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They were interrupted by Ogidu stepping out through the sliding doors onto the back porch. "Mistress Yasmin has arrived, Clan Mother."

"Maman!" Cyra ran to her, the rose clutched carefully in her small fist. "Look what the Clan Mother let me pick!"

"It's beautiful," Yasmin said, but her eyes were on Annani, questioning.

"She was a delight as usual," Annani assured her.

After they left, Annani returned to her living room and studied Cyra's drawing more carefully. Five figures in the sand, flickering between existence and void, waiting to be found.

"Ogidu," she called her butler. "I wish to visit Esag. Have the golf cart ready."

He bowed. "Yes, Clan Mother."

For the past week, Esag had been deflecting all of her inquiries about his carvings of Khiann, saying that he had nothing to show her because they were all subpar.

Annani was tired of waiting.

Twenty minutes later, the golf cart stopped outside the house Esag shared with Davuh and Roven. The sound of a chisel on stone drifted from an open window, probably the skylight the males had installed in the walk-in closet they had converted into a workshop.

"Esag?" Annani called out. "May I come in?"

The chiseling stopped. After a moment, Esag appeared at the door, stone dust in his hair and shadows under his eyes.

"Princess Annani." He bowed. "I don't have anything to show you yet. None of them is right. None of them capture Khiann's essence."

"I came to see the others you have carved over the millennia. I assume you had enough time to put them on display?"

The shelving units had been delivered to the residence two days after the three had moved in. Surely they had enough time to unpack at least some of them.

Reluctantly, Esag led her into the house, and as she entered, Annani's steps slowed. The living room had been transformed into a gallery. Simple shelving units lined the walls, and on them, arranged with loving care, were dozens of figurines from Esag's collection.

Her father's imperial face gazed down at her from the highest shelf, captured perfectly in pale marble.

Beside him stood her mother, serene and beautiful, her stone lips curved in the gentle smile Annani remembered.

The detail was extraordinary—every fold of fabric, every strand of hair rendered with seemingly impossible precision.

"We've only unpacked about a third of them," Esag said apologetically, misreading her silence. "We are still in the process of setting them up."

Annani moved closer, her trained composure the only thing keeping her features smooth. There was her Uncle Ekin, who had taught her most everything she knew. Her cousin Toven, who was in the village, alive and well. Her Aunt Athor, who had tried to explain genetics to her.

If only she had listened.

Khiann's parents. Gulan's. All gone, yet there they stood, preserved in stone with such life that she almost expected them to move, to speak.

"They are magnificent," she managed, her voice steady despite the storm of emotion within.

On a lower shelf, she spotted more familiar faces—courtiers she had known, guards whom she had played stones with, even the old tutor who had been fired so Khiann could replace him and court her in secret.

Her fingers itched to touch them, and she wished she had Fenella's gift so she could see what memories Esag had embedded in each piece. But that would mean feeling their loss all over again, and she could not endure that.

Not today.

"You have honored them all. I am amazed at how well you remembered them. You must have possessed an artist's eye for detail even before you became one."

"I did my best." Esag wiped his hands on a rag that was dirtier than his palms. "I did it so I wouldn't forget." His gaze shifted to the figurines on the upper shelf. "Do you want to hear something really crazy?"

She tilted her head to look up at him. "Always."

"I have dreams of the gods all being alive. I know they are wishful thoughts just as my dreams about Khiann are, but they are so vivid." He chuckled. "Do you remember the slaves from the north that Mortdh brought as a present for you?"

She grimaced. "The poor primitive tribesmen that Mortdh somehow caught in the northern lands and brought to me as a novelty because they were all blond and pale.

" Later, when she had escaped, Annani had gone to their lands and found refuge there.

"They are all probably dead, murdered when the assembly and the palace were bombed. "

Esag nodded. "They talked of auroras, and back then, I didn't know what they were and thought that they were making them up.

Now I know that auroras are a real phenomenon, and that's what I see in my dreams. I see the gods living in a place where auroras are constantly in the sky.

" He chuckled. "Maybe that's my idea of paradise. "

"I lived among those northern tribes," she said.

"That is where I escaped to avoid capture by Mortdh when the council deliberated endlessly about how to bring him to justice.

The auroras are indeed beautiful, but it is a harsh land, and as far from paradise as you can imagine.

Sumer was the real paradise before it was destroyed. "

"I know," Esag said quietly. "Mortdh destroyed more than a beautiful land. He eradicated the gods and by doing so doomed humanity."

Annani had not told Esag about the Eternal King and Anumati yet, not because she wanted to keep it from him, but because he had been busy setting up his workshop, and they had not had the opportunity to talk.

"It might not have been Mortdh who did that."

Esag frowned. "Then who?"

"I have so much I need to tell you, but I do not want to distract you from your work. I need you to make a figurine of Khiann that will make you dream of him and help me find him. We are running out of time."

She thought about the flickering Cyra had talked about, and her gut clenched.

Esag swallowed. "I'm doing the best I can." He motioned for her to follow him.

They continued through the house to Esag's makeshift workshop—the closet had been transformed, the skylight flooding the small space with natural light, and the shelves lining the walls holding tools and materials instead of clothing. But the figurines were what drew Annani's attention.

Khiann's face gazed back at her from multiple angles, carved in different stones.

Each was exquisite, capturing some aspect of the man she still loved with every fiber of her being—his strength, his kindness, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled.

But Esag was right about something missing from each one of them.

"They're technically perfect," Esag said miserably. "But they're dead stone. No spirit, no spark. Nothing like how I remember him."

"I have a portrait of Khiann in my bedroom." Annani lifted one of the figurines. "The clan works with an artist who can draw eerily accurate portraits of people just from their descriptions. Would you like to see it?"

"I would love to." Esag reached for a clean rag and resumed wiping his hands as if their cleanliness would provide him with the answers he was seeking.

"Come to think of it." Annani put the unfinished figurine back on the shelf. "Perhaps I should ask Andrew to arrange a meeting between you and the artist. If he draws a portrait of Khiann from your memory, it might help you with the carving."

Esag looked doubtful. "I don't really see how it could help, but at this point, I'm willing to try anything."

"Then it is settled. I will have Andrew arrange a meeting as soon as possible. In the meantime, you should come to my house, so I can show you Khiann's portrait."

He dipped his head. "I would be honored, Princess."