Si’s hand closed around a shard from an earthenware vase that had stood in a corner.

Her heart pounded with heavy, painful blows.

Am I really going to do this?

Her thoughts returned to Suyai’s words. She had lost her daughter in this godhouse. Many other women had died here, because of a man who claimed to be a god.

That would not be her end.

And yet… Mutilating her face? No man would ever want her after that. Not even the one she was promised to. She would always be alone, even though there was a chance the god might not want her at all. She clenched her free hand. She didn’t have much time to decide. Soon, she would be presented to that man, and after that, she had no idea what would become of her.

Her gaze darted to Suyai’s. There was resolve in it. She believed this was the lesser of two evils.

Maybe being alone wouldn’t be so terrible. Suyai seemed to be managing just fine. Soon, they would probably both be put to work on some estate. From there, they could escape. This price… this was a price she had to be willing to pay. 

She placed the shard against her face, just above her left eyebrow. She pushed.

Harder, harder.

The pain was sharp, made her squeeze her eyes shut, and she wanted to pull her hand back.

No. Keep going now. Come on, all at once.

She clenched her teeth. In one motion, she dragged the tip of the shard diagonally downward from beneath her eye, across part of her cheek, straight over her lips, along her chin. The wound burned; blood rushed down. She smelled it, tasted it.

Suyai squeezed her free hand.

“Is it enough?” Si asked.

The woman hesitated too long. Si raised the shard to her face again.

Suyai closed her fingers around Si’s wrist to stop her. “I think it’s enough.”

“That’s not a certainty.”

This time, she couldn’t stop herself from screaming as she mutilated her face again. Her tears mixed with the blood. Never in her life had she felt such pain. She staggered, searching for support against her attendant.

The woman pulled the shard from her hand. Then she wrapped her arms around Si and drew her into an embrace. “You are a brave young woman, Si.”

The words barely registered. All she felt now was pain—pain and regret. This was irreversible. From now on, people would stare at her, or turn their faces away in disgust.

The door opened; they must have heard her cries in the corridor.

“What happened here?” shouted the warrior who had been standing guard outside. With wide eyes he stared at Si’s bloodied face. Then his gaze snapped to the shard in Suyai’s hand.

Oh no.

“It’s—”

With a single look, the older woman silenced her. “Now we have equal chances,” she said, lifting her chin defiantly. “Let’s see if the god still finds her so attractive now. Perhaps he’ll be willing to overlook my age.”

Si’s eyes widened. Was she telling the truth? Had Suyai fed her nonsense to improve her own chances? Had Si mutilated herself for nothing?!

The warrior stepped into the room. “I can assure you that His Holiness will not appreciate this action.” He grabbed Suyai by the upper arm. “You have robbed this woman of her beauty. Beauty that belongs to His Holiness. You have stolen from the god, and for that the punishment is death.”

Si’s legs gave out beneath her. “W-what?”

Suyai looked at her, a sad smile on her lips. Had this been her plan? Had she meant to take the blame so Si could be free?

“But… I…”

Suyai shot her a stern look. She was sacrificing herself—and she did not want that sacrifice to be in vain. The warrior seized her by the arm and dragged her toward the door.

Si scrambled to her feet. “Suyai!” She couldn’t just let them take her away without a fight. Before she reached the door, it slammed shut. She yanked it open again; two armed men blocked the passage. “Suyai!” she screamed.

Past them, she caught a glimpse of the woman. It’s all right, her lips seemed to say.

But it wasn’t all right. Not at all. Far from it.

The warrior closed the door. Si sank numbly onto the sleeping mat, drew her knees up, and wrapped her arms around them. Now she was completely alone. Was Suyai truly being sentenced to death? The thought froze her from the inside out.

Drops slid down her face. Tears, she thought at first—until she saw the dark stains on her tunic. Blood. Once she became aware of it again, the pain returned as well. Throbbing, stabbing.

Si had thought she had been required to make a great sacrifice for her freedom. It paled beside what the older woman had done for her. Suyai had given up everything. Everything to keep Si from meeting the same fate as her daughter.

Assuming she would no longer remain a guest in this godhouse, Si took a corner of the blanket and gently pressed it to her face to dab at the blood. Would the bleeding stop on its own? Did it need tending? Si had no idea how to do that. The thought of foul-smelling, festering wounds spreading across her face made her stomach twist.

The door opened. Si let the wad of fabric fall from her hands. Maybe she was imagining it, but the wound seemed to be bleeding less than before.

A young woman in a colorful tunic with golden bands around her neck stepped into the room. A few heartbeats later she stood right in front of Si.

Si rose hesitantly.

Nothing could be read from the newcomer’s face. No revulsion, no sympathy. Silently, she let her gaze travel over Si, starting at her crown, downwards, and then back up again. The wounds throbbed as she looked at them.

“A shame,” she said at last. “The gods have clearly rejected you.”

Had they? Perhaps they had. Her valley had been invaded, her sisters taken away, her parents and little brother possibly dead, her beauty destroyed, and her only confidante was about to be executed.

Something I cannot simply allow to happen.

Maybe she could find out where the woman was being taken. Surely she wouldn’t be killed immediately, would she? She could free her!

“Come with me.”

Si followed the woman out of the room and into the corridor. She wanted to ask where Suyai was being taken, but the question lodged in her throat. Silently, she strode past the guards.

They passed through two doors, each opening onto a different corridor. Then they stepped outside.

“You have been deemed unworthy of His Holiness,” the woman said. A small smile played around her lips—almost sadistic. “There is, however, a sort of company that will not take offense at your… appearance.”

Without thinking, Si moved her hand to her ruined face. She flinched as soon as she touched the end of the wound. Immediately, her entire face began to throb viciously.

The woman crossed the garden. The greenery and the colors of the flowers looked dull. Si walked with her, though her limbs felt heavy as lead. Thoughts raced through her mind—that she had to escape, that she had to save Suyai—but they were fleeting and chaotic, and she couldn’t manage to focus on anything except the woman ahead of her.

Before they had even left the gardens, her feet were aching and pounding. The bandages her attendant had wrapped around them earlier that day kept dirt from getting into the wounds, but walking still hurt all the same. Limping, she followed the woman toward wooden buildings at the edge of the grounds.

Stables. Llamas and alpacas, probably. They'd had those too, important for their wool and transport.

The woman led her inside and addressed a gaunt man. “This one will shovel shit.” She glanced over her shoulder, a contemptuous smile on her lips.

Si averted her gaze. The woman had probably understood that she was a daughter of the gods, and that a place like this was foreign to her. She seemed to find it all highly amusing. Si refused to show it bothered her and waited quietly. Right now, anything was better than becoming the god’s new spouse. She much preferred working in the stables. From a place like this, it would be easier to find her sisters than if she were bound to the god-house. Getting her hands dirty didn’t bother her nearly as much as that woman seemed to think. She could always wash them clean again.

The gaunt man came toward her. The blood on her face startled him; she could see it in his eyes. His face was weathered, but not so hardened that she missed the trace of compassion in his gaze. He inclined his head in greeting.

“I’ll take her from here,” he said to the woman, who then turned and walked away.

His voice was surprisingly warm; after everything she had been through lately, it felt like a kind embrace. “Nalin has made soup,” the man said. “Come. What is your name?”

“Si,” she said softly.

“I’m Diriq, the stablemaster.”

Diriq led her to a small building a few meters from the stables. A fire burned outside. There was no door in the clay wall, and Si stepped through the opening. It was a square space she could cross in about ten steps, with no furniture. Seven others sat in the straw, some of them children. All of them were spooning from earthenware bowls.

“This is Si,” the stablemaster said to the others. “She’ll be working in the stables as well.”

“Don’t you have a home either?” asked a girl who looked about half Si’s age. There were smears of mud on her face—or Si hoped it was mud, given the work they had to do.

Si silently shook her head.

“What happened to your face?”

“Leave Si be for a moment, Maryam.” A woman had come to stand beside her. “Come, let me tend to your wound first. After that, you can have some soup and try to sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

“I can’t stay here,” Si said miserably. “I have to save Suyai. She’s been sentenced to death.” Her lip trembled. Carefully, her fingertips slid over her bloodied cheek. “They think she did this. B-but… I have to save her!”

“Did you come from the godhouse?”

“Yes! Do you know where they keep the prisoners?” Si lifted her gaze to the woman, hopeful.

The woman looked at her with pity. “The cell complex is heavily guarded. There’s no way you can get in.”

“But—”

“Nalin is right, Si,” Diriq interrupted gently. “I’m sorry. In three days, it will be Blood Night. That is when all criminals are put to death.”