Sometimes Domi wished he were a less principled person. If only Merula had not raised him as a believer in the Eternal Radiance. Were he burdened with less of a sense of decency, he would be rich. The New Year's Observance offered the perfect opportunity to strip Urbs Hostiae of much of its wealth.

The whole city glittered and gleamed like a pocket turned inside out. Every single person capable of getting out of bed poured out into the streets. Best of all, most wore their observance finery.

Everywhere Domi turned, his eyes landed on something worth snatching: A hand-painted sash. Silver and gold ear cuffs. A belt of fine, colorful glass beads. Strands of necklaces, dripping with glittering jewels. Leather-bound or hand-illustrated copies of the Holy Ovidiana, with intricate cover art. Hairpins, broaches, tunica cufflinks, and paenula clasps. Not to mention the goblets, crystalware, and painted porcelain cups many people brought with them.

Domi would have brought his own dented but sturdy tankard for the ceremony. If he hadn't pawned it.

He elbowed his way between two youths, earning a curse, and grinned over his shoulder at his ma, wondering if the same thoughts crossed her mind.

But Merula did not pay attention to the fine trinkets all around them. She wavered on her feet, hunched with her hands on her knees and coughing between wheezing gasps. Like Domi feared, the short walk from the slums to the streets outside Urbs Hostiae's amphitheater had been too much for her.

He hurried near and rubbed her back, helplessness making his belly churn. "Let me take you home."

"N-no." She swatted his hand away and managed to lever herself halfway upright. She squinted at him in the crimson evening light, her face so glossy her skin reflected the sullen red sunlight more than her hair did. "And miss the f-feast?"

"But—"

"Boy, leave me be. Look, it's starting."

In the cloudless sky above, the Trellis's gentle evening glow dimmed until only the faintest golden threads crisscrossed the heavens in a delicate net.

A hush fell over the crowd, and despite his worry, Domi's heart swelled with awe. There was something magnificent about knowing everyone around the world saw the same thing he did now. They were all watching magic, the real magic upholding heaven and earth, together.

Hunters watched in the night-side borderlands. Farmers stood in their fields, gazing at the sky. City dwellers here and in the faraway world capital of Vola Apertus, where the Rex and Princepses led the planet in these yearly devotions, witnessed the magic together.

Some people needed to travel from deep in the night-side to watch beneath the light of a Trellis Isle. Others gathered under the day-side lattice. Yet all shared the same experience. Pullati, commoners, and middle-class folk in the streets beheld the same splendor as rich people and Promethidae in city amphitheaters. All around Aquarius, everyone witnessed this miraculous gift of light and beauty as one.

Each year, the New Year's Observance followed the same script but varied in presentation. Last year, the Rex and four Princepses appeared in the sky in images so realistic Domi had been half sure he could touch his rulers if he reached his hands high enough. Two years ago, the five ruling priests had not been visible at all but instead filled the sky with abstract impressions and the air with scents and sounds to mesmerize the mind.

This year's observance would be a spectacle of spun light and shadow.

A silhouette appeared in the center of the sky: a man's dark figure, imposing, with a shock of crimson fire blazing around his throat like a garnet choker. The Rex raised one shadowy hand high above him, and as his fingers stretched toward the firmament, six crimson stars appeared in the sky.

Domi sighed wistfully. He had no idea why starholders sensed the Six Stars—and why they only sensed some stars but not others—and nobody else had a clue either. Over the years, he heard some ridiculous ideas. His favorite was that when starholders died, their eidolons sailed aboard the gods' heavenly barges, using the Stars to navigate the Dark Waters.

He didn't believe that crap, but he still liked the idea. He would love to escape Aquarius on a heavenly barge, though preferably while he still lived. As a Pullatus, he would never become an eidolon or enjoy an afterlife. Still, it would be wondrous to live the life he'd been given sailing the Dark Waters with the Eternal Radiance to light the way.

Whatever caused starholders to sense the Six Stars, the strange gift set them apart from the rest of their peculiar, powerful race. Domi heard other Promethidae learned magic from a young age, like he started learning to lockpick while still in clouts. Starholders needed careful instruction for most of their powers but were born reaching for the Stars in the sky as surely as Domi emerged into the world reaching for shiny trinkets.

He sighed in pleasure as golden bands of light stretched like comet-tails between the Six Stars, forming a constellation.

A woman's husky voice sounded across the heavens, thundering in every ear and whispering in every mind. Domi shivered in awe. The Princeps Mindholder.

"Come, O People," the royal priest said. "Let us gather to welcome a new year. Tomorrow, the eight hundred seventieth year since the Restoration shall begin, but this eve, let us pause to reflect. Let us remember the distant days of the Pyrrhaei Rebellion with sorrow."

Domi frowned as she continued. Like always, he wondered why the ancient Pyrrhaei had thought they could rise up. Didn't they understand the Eternal Radiance wanted the Promethidae to rule? Didn't they fear the Sublime Light's wrath?

"May we vow never again to return to those dark days when the Eternal Radiance almost abandoned us for our transgressions," the Princeps Mindholder said. "Let us give thanks for the Restoration and renew our commitment to walk the path the Sublime Light illuminates before us. We dedicate this eve's rite to the six virtues guiding all our days and doings, from the most mundane day to today's most holy observance."

Domi lowered his head with the others and chanted the daily virtues as they unfurled before the Rex in a golden script. He could not read them, but that was fine. He could recite them, and the rest of the Holy Ovidiana scriptures, by heart.

Fides, the first day of the week, dedicated to trustworthy allegiance.

Pietas, the second day of the week, dedicated to dutiful devotion.

Cultus, the third day, a time of personal discipline.

Disciplina, the fourth day, set aside for study and teaching.

Gravitas, the fifth day, a day of unperturbed self-control before life's hardest challenges. As his ma coughed behind him, Domi focused extra hard on the virtue.

And last came Constantia, the sixth and final day of the week, devoted to unwavering tradition.

As Domi and the others chanted each of the six virtues in unison, the Trellis began to warm and brighten above them. When they reached Constantia, the lattice flared incandescent white. Domi gasped in thrilled delight with the crowd as sizzling heat washed through the air and dissipated.

The Trellis returned to its previous faint, spider web glow. The Princeps Mindholder's soft croon floated through the air once more. "By living virtuously every day, we walk the path the Eternal Radiance placed before our people and journey together toward the Garden of Light."

Domi craned his head, trying to spot the part that always came next. He wasn't disappointed.

At the edges of the streets far ahead, glimmers of violet light sparkled, half-hidden within pale hooded paenulas. The local forgeholders had stepped out of the amphitheater down the road, where they and other highborns gathered in the premium seats to watch the ceremony.

The trio lifted their arms, and gouts of flame burst from their hands. Three bonfires ignited around the arcade.

Runners made their way up and down the street with torches, bearing flames from the bonfires to kindle the countless other firepits placed throughout the city.

All around Aquarius, the same rituals unfolded.

"Come forward, children of the garden," the Princeps Mindholder invited the world. "Bring forth the useless, ugly, and choking weeds you brought."

Domi had not brought any weeds with him this year. He had not been able to find the time. But all around him, people pulled black and red leaves from their pockets, purses, and satchels.

Domi glared at the odoratus through his lashes. Every week, he and the invasive night-side weed waged war. Merula expected him to dig the weed up whenever the inedible plant's creeping roots threatened to damage the Black Flight's flimsy walls. Domi tried to keep ahead of it, but the plant always grew back. At least it could be pulped and made into black Pullati tunicas. And burned.

He must admit, the obnoxious weed smelled glorious when ignited, making it perfect for New Year's Observance. Once the forgeholders lit the bonfires near Domi, it didn't take long for the streets to fill with smoke and the sweet, spicy scent of the odoratus.

When people cast their offerings into the fire, they should think about all the unvirtuous emotions, thoughts, and actions they wanted to remove from their lives. But Domi suspected half the people chucking offerings into the bonfires just enjoyed burning things.

The Princeps Mindholder's voice floated over the smoke. "We need not fear any evil with the Eternal Radiance's favor upon us. So long as we follow divine will to the best of our ability and return to the Path of Light when we err, the Eternal Radiance will bless us. The power and goodness of the Sublime Light will transform even the foulest chaff into the sweetest incense."

Behind Domi, the "sweetest incense" gave his ma another coughing fit.

He bit his lip, shifting from one foot to the other. Should he take her home? She said she wanted to stay for the feast, but she wasn't doing well at all.

Should he force her to go home? Could he force her? She was frail, but he was shorter than her. He had always been small for his age.

She cast him a surly glare out of the corner of her eye, and he wilted. No one could make the Rex Pullati do something she did not want to do.

"And now, children of the Garden of Light, attend with open mind and heart to the Great Story."

He listened with half a mind as the Princeps Mindholder recited scripture passages from the Holy Ovidiana. The fears keeping him awake every night circled his heart like crows.

"When there was no Aquarius yet, but only Primordius—the dark first world—the Eternal Radiance pitied the land. The Light reached down from the Heavens and touched the cruel black and red forests with a golden ray."

Domi peeked at his ma, biting his lip as she wheezed. The street healers Merula visited were all in agreement. She suffered from phthisis. Lung rot. No herbal decoctions, steam baths, or healing unguents would save her from the cruel disease. The consumptive sickness would be fatal—and soon—unless a lifeholder physician intervened.

But no lifeholder would pity or stretch out a hand to treat a Pullatus. Domi swallowed hard, but the anger and fear stayed lodged in his throat.

"The ray burned away dark chaff and kindled green plants and the First People. Red Primordius became green Aquarius. The Sublime Light gave Aquarius to the First People, Pyrrha and Promethiades."

He drew a slow breath, trying to calm himself. If only Merula were Promethidae. The prometus flowing through sorcerers' veins bestowed good health and protection against disease along with magical talent. It could save her.

"Then the Eternal Radiance created a Seed. Within the Seed burned the Light's own Spark. The Sublime Light planted the Seed in Promethiades."

Domi studied the Princeps Mindholder's blazing laurel. Legend said the luminous prometus, which traveled through sorcerers' bodies and pooled just under the skin around their necklines, cured everything.

Domi meant to test that theory.

"And the Light said, 'With this Seed, do My will. Make this world a Garden of Light and care for Pyrrha, who lacks the Seed.' Then the Light told Pyrrha, 'Obey Promethiades. Help make this world a Garden of Light. Follow My guiding light in Promethiades.'"

Domi snorted. He meant to do more than follow that guiding light. He would snatch a bit of it for himself. For his ma.

He couldn't let her die.

"The Eternal Radiance is still with us today. We behold the Holy Light in the Heavens. The Trellis, born of the Sublime Light, holds the world with a sacred sustaining hand. The Promethidae, born of Promethiades, hold the Trellis with a wise sustaining hand. And the Pyrrhaei, born of Pyrrha, hold the Promethidae with an obedient sustaining hand."

Domi had learned about a promenia tool: the lapis translationis. The Appraiser almost drooled whenever he described the indigo stone Promethidae used to extract prometus from a Lightbearer and transfer the magical particles to a recipient.

Domi needed that stone, but the artifact lay somewhere within the Silvula Salutis Collegium, where Provincia Sicarii's sorcerers lived, worked, trained, and governed in the heart of Urbs Hostiae's forum. Hence, the dye-job. He needed a strong disguise to help him sneak into that stronghold and perform the most audacious snatch of his life: First, the stone. Then a little sorcerous blood and the life-giving prometus in it.

"Thus, we all do the Eternal Radiance's will, holding Aquarius and one another to make this world the Garden of Light."

Sparks of green ignited in the corner of his eye. Down the street, the local lifeholders stepped out of the amphitheater.

Meanwhile, the Princeps Lifeholder's shadow appeared high in the sky, her throat wreathed in emerald flame. When her hands stretched out in silhouette, the local lifeholders mirrored the gesture.

Domi stood too far away to make out what the local sorcerers held, but in the spun Trellis light, the Princeps Lifeholder's hands cradled a basket of shining rose buds.

"Thank you, Eternal Radiance, for outstretching Your generous and sheltering hand. Under Your glorious power, we all enjoy lives of plenty. We remember everything is subject to Your will, and all may be used by You to build the Garden of Light."

The lifeholders down the street held their hands above something in their arms. In the Trellis, the Princeps Lifeholder caressed the air above the basket of buds, which blossomed and bore plump red apples.

A moment later the fruit followed the earlier weeds into the fire as the Princeps Mindholder said, "Eternal Radiance, we give all to You in obedience. May we be ever dutiful in following Your will."

Domi's belly rumbled. He would love one of those apples right about now.

Fortunately, the ceremony was almost over, and he would get to fill his empty stomach soon. Runners made their way out of the amphitheater and down the streets, dragging carts laden with earthen jars of ebriamen, an intoxicating liquor from an otherwise-inedible night-side flower. They passed out small portions of wine to everyone within the first few blocks who brought a cup or glass of their own.

The Princeps Mindholder led everyone in taking six ceremonial sips of the wine, saying after each libation, "We drink to you, starholders. We drink to you, mindholders. Worldholders, we drink to you. Lifeholders, this drink is to you. Forgeholders, we honor you also as we imbibe. And this final drink is to you, our Rex, our four Princepses, and our four-hundred Praetors."

She cast the rest of the wine into the flames as she added, "And ourselves we offer to You, oh Eternal Radiance. We understand the Garden of Light cannot exist but through self-sacrifice and submission to Your will. May this smoke carry our prayers to You. May You protect our rulers, our new Princeps Worldholder—Keeper of Heaven and Earth—and all who dwell in the Garden of Light and imbibe Your life-giving wine."

With that, the Trellis flared once more before the shadow figures faded and the sky resumed its evening gold-laced burgundy hue. The mandatory part of the observance was over. At last, the public feast would begin.

Domi sniffed the air in appreciation as the scent of fresh-baked bread and the other treats attendants wheeled out on carts reached his nose. But as his ma hunched over in another coughing fit, his appetite fled.

"T-take me home, D-Domi," she said between ragged, gasping coughs. Around them, people eyed her with disgust and stepped away.

She staggered into him, and with his heart pounding, he slung her arm over his shoulders and helped her home.

He was not disappointed to miss the feast or the chance to fill his empty belly. How could he think about eating when she was dying? How could he stay here and listen to his neighbors share stories about the heroes of old? If he wasted any more time, his ma would die. He was not going to wait around anymore and let that happen.

He needed to stop wasting time. No more lifts. No more plotting and planning. No more caution. No more worrying about how to survive with his own worthless skin intact. No more trying to earn coin to pay a heartless lifeholder for a dye-job. He didn't have the time. Not anymore.

He gritted his teeth and nodded. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, he would go to the Silvula Salutis Collegium. Tomorrow, he would snatch magic from the Promethidae.