Thus, Malik was eating once again, albeit more slowly, when Life Priestess entered the room, her ever-present hare now in her arms.

“Champion Adil, how happy I am to see you looking so refreshed,” she said. “I hate to interrupt you during a meal, but we have much to do before the Opening Ceremony. Could you please come this way?”

Ignoring the Mark twisting in nervous circles over his lower back, Malik followed Life Priestess into a circular room with a podium in the center. Acolytes from the Life Temple were seated around the room, and behind them were servants holding long skeins of fabric, measuring tapes, and different kinds of garments.

“On the podium, please,” said Life Priestess. “Arms out.”

Malik obliged, and Hicham removed his robe, leaving him standing in his underclothes in a room full of strangers. Malik had had more than one nightmare centered on this exact scenario, and he struggled to keep his face calm as Life Priestess circled him, her eyes narrow. He hid the Mark beneath his foot again just in time.

“Please state your name once more,” said Life Priestess.

The usual fear of strangers clogged Malik’s throat, and he hesitated for a beat too long. Life Priestess’s eyes narrowed as beads of sweat formed on his lip. He wanted to curl up into a ball and hide, but Nadia’s life depended on him convincing these people that a goddess had really chosen him as Champion. If he couldn’t get past his fear for himself, he’d have to for his sister.

“Adil Asfour, Auntie,” he choked out, his voice small.

“Your parents’ names?”

“Adja and Mansa Asfour, Auntie.” These names had also come from the forged papers. The smuggler who had sold them to Malik had sworn that the information would pass any investigation into their backgrounds.

“Where are you from?”

“Talafri, Auntie. My parents sold spices for a living.”

“Are they here now?”

“They passed three years ago, Auntie. The only person with me is my older sister.”

Malik’s arms began to shake. How much longer would this interrogation go on? Soon Life Priestess would ask a question he didn’t have an answer to, and then they’d discover he was an impostor, and he’d be beheaded or worse.

But instead of asking another question, Life Priestess turned to the acolytes fidgeting behind her.

“First impressions of our new Champion?”

A dozen hands shot up at once.

“Lithe frame and strong leg muscles suggest he’d be good at challenges involving running, like the footrace challenge of the sixth Solstasia!”

“He speaks concisely and clearly. That could be useful if we have an intelligence-based challenge this time around.”

“But what about his overall lack of muscle strength? Our predictions say the First Challenge will likely involve physical activity, and Champion Adil seems to be lacking in that area.”

Malik was not sure how long he stood there listening to the acolytes run through his potential strengths and weaknesses. He answered every question they threw at him as honestly as he could—no, he had no major illnesses that could interfere with his duties as Champion; yes, he was a devout believer in the Great Mother and had received all the proper blessings as a child; no, he had never lied to a member of the temple or any other official for any reason.

All the while, the servants poked and prodded him, measuring each of his limbs and at one point even examining his teeth. He felt like the prized horses Papa used to sell at the market, albeit one that smelled of shea butter and fresh flowers. Through it all, Malik kept the image of the lemon tree in mind, because if he didn’t, the intense discomfort of having so many people touching him at once threatened to spiral him into a full-blown panic attack.

Nadia, he reminded himself as another servant tugged on his arm. He was doing this for Nadia.

Finally, Life Priestess gestured for Malik to lower his arms, which he did gratefully. Scratching her hare under his chin, Life Priestess said, “Our goddess has chosen her Champion well. I am pleased by her decision.”

Murmurs of agreement went up through the room, though a few acolytes still looked concerned.

Life Priestess continued, “I doubt I need to tell you this, but it is my duty to do so nonetheless. Our goddess, Adanko, has chosen you to be her Champion, which means that for the duration of Solstasia and beyond, you are expected to conduct yourself in a manner befitting this great honor. Is there any reason whatsoever you feel you are not suited for this task?”

Malik’s mind flew to the weapon hiding in his skin. “No, Auntie.”

Life Priestess nodded. “Chief among your duties as Life Champion will be competing in a series of three challenges hosted by our illustrious sultana. The first of these challenges will occur tonight, directly after the Opening Ceremony, and then on the third night and the fifth night thereafter. After each challenge, two Champions will be eliminated. The one who remains will prove which patron deity the Great Mother has decided should rule over the next era.

“Whatever you have been told about Solstasia, whatever ideas you have about what the challenges might entail, forget them now. These tasks are not meant only to test you—they are meant to break you and reveal to the world what lies in your true heart.” Life Priestess’s eyes glinted, sharper than the tip of a blade. “Are you prepared to fight for this and more, in the name of the Great Mother, Adanko, and all the people of Ziran?”

The weight of dozens of eyes hung like a thousand-ton stone around Malik’s neck. Life Priestess’s gaze in particular pierced through him, and for a wild second, Malik thought he saw Adanko staring back at him through the woman’s knowing black eyes.

This was his last chance to withdraw from this charade, to let them give the fancy clothes and warm baths to someone who deserved them more, someone who could be the Champion the people wanted and deserved.

Malik opened his mouth.

He closed it.

He looked at Gege laying forlornly on a towel, waiting to reunite with the one person who loved him most.

“I am, Auntie,” said Malik, and he got the strangest sensation of a door slamming shut and another opening wide open. The tension in the room burst into an array of excited chattering among the acolytes. Life Priestess took a step back, her hands folded in front of her and a small smile on her pointed face. Her hare twitched his ears.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

“Wait, Auntie!” said Malik, before his courage could falter once more. He was the Life Champion now, for better or for worse; surely he could make this one request. “My older sister and I were in the process of securing our lodging for Solstasia when Adanko . . . chose me. Is there any way she could be brought to the Azure Garden as well?”

Life Priestess frowned. “Unfortunately, only the Champions and those tending to them may live in the Azure Garden during Solstasia. To make an exception for you would mean we must allow the other Champions’ families to live here as well.” She paused. “However, nowhere in the rules does it say that I can’t host a Champion’s family member. What is your sister’s name? I’ll have my guards bring her to the temple, and she can stay there as my guest until Solstasia ends.”

“Eshaal. Her name is Eshaal Asfour,” said Malik, praying Leila would remember to respond to her false name. “Thank you so much.”

Life Priestess gave a small laugh. “It is the least I can do for the Champion our goddess descended from the heavens to pick. Now, if you have no further questions, let us move on to the fun portion of the day. We don’t have much time until the Opening Ceremony, and we need to have all your clothes ready before then. Wind Priestess will never let me hear the end of it if my Champion is not as well-dressed as hers.”

Life Priestess clapped, and a dozen servants ran forward, their arms laden with piles of clothes. She grabbed an outfit and held it up for Malik to see.

“Tell me, how do you feel about capes?”

10

Karina

The Opening Ceremony began with the beat of a single drum.

The beat boomed from the talking drum of a lone griot as she wound her way through the streets of Ziran, summoning anyone and everyone to Jehiza Square. Those who saw the woman would soon forget the details of her face and the clothes she was wearing, but they would forever remember her laugh, a body-shaking cackle that was both joyous and bone-chilling all at once.

After the griot came the trumpeters, blowing arm-length ivory horns to a tune that brought tears to the eyes of the elders. Many thanked the gods that they had lived to see their second Solstasia, while others mourned for those who had not.