“Are you ready for this?” Ayla retied the bandage around her thigh, pulling it tight. They were both in Toby’s cell and their doors were open.
“How can I be?” Toby touched his toes. “We’re going to be fighting our friends.”
“We weren’t here to make friends, Toby. I didn’t forget that,” Ayla replied.
He groaned. She was right: this would be easier if he’d kept his distance. “Let me help you with that.”
“No need.” Ayla tightened the knot with her teeth.
“You did point Arthur to his key in the maze. I haven’t forgotten.”
“Only because I’d rather face Summer today than Moira.” Ayla scowled.
“You didn’t know about today back then.”
Ayla pretended not to have heard him. Her boots jiggled on the ground. “When are they coming for us?”
“Now.” Lenka was standing in their cell doorway. Her fists were wrapped much like Ayla’s leg and she had tied her fine, flyaway hair off her face with a strip of bandage. “Can’t you hear the bells? They’ll be coming any minute.”
“What do you want?” Ayla snapped.
Lenka shuffled from one foot to the other.
Ayla stood and put her hands on her hips. “You got some insult?”
Lenka shook her head. “Whatever happens today, it’ll be over. One of us is losing their tongue. It might be me.” She frowned. “So, I just wanted to say –” she leaned around the door to find Toby – “I won’t forget what you did in the sea. You didn’t have to wake me up and get me out of the water. You didn’t have to help Moira.” Lenka flexed her bound fists. “When we get out there, I won’t hold back. So I just wanted you to know … I won’t forget.” She cleared her throat and looked at the stairs. “Mother Hesper’s coming.” She stepped away from the cell and her face hardened. “I won’t say good luck.” She turned and moved quickly back to her own cell.
Ayla suddenly looked around. “Toby, what if we don’t come back here after…”
“Ashes – you’re right.” Toby’s eyes widened. “I’ve got to get the…”
“Do it.” Ayla marched into the doorway, blocking Mother Hesper’s view of Toby’s cell as she appeared at the bottom of the steps.
“Toby’s not ready.” Ayla pulled the cell door closed behind her. “He’ll be out in a moment.”
Mother Hesper narrowed her eyes. “He’s got until you’re all lined up outside your cells.”
Arthur was first to emerge. He was shirtless and his skin looked like it had been oiled. With what, Ayla didn’t know, but she knew that it would make it difficult to get a grip on him in the fight. As he stretched his muscles moved like those of a big cat. He was ready.
“Summer,” he called.
Summer appeared in the passageway. Instead of hanging loose, her hair was wrapped tightly around her head in two thick plaits. She had pulled off her shapeless cream dress and now wore nothing more than a breast strap and shorts. Ayla blinked as she saw that the girl had the muscles of a fighter.
“By the Sun,” Lenka whispered. “We’ve been played!”
Ayla reached behind her and began to knot the long side of her hair. There was nothing she could do about the short side – it would provide a handhold for anyone who got close enough.
“Matus,” Summer called in a sing-song voice unlike the doll’s squeak that she had been using. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
Matus limped out of his cell. Two days had passed since the last challenge, but his ankle remained swollen and his shoulder was bruised with a green-yellow smear where it had been dislocated.
Ayla stared at him, then at Lenka. “What are you going to do?”
“Fight like hell.” Lenka stepped towards her partner. “Ready, Matus?” He nodded, his eyes grim.
Mother Hesper moved towards Toby’s cell and Ayla sidestepped, blocking her.
“He won’t be a minute.”
“Out. Now,” Mother Hesper growled.
“Toby,” Ayla called.
The cell door opened and Toby stood in the doorway. Ayla’s gaze flicked to his fingers; his nails were crusted with dirt. He nodded to her.
Then he caught sight of Summer and his face tightened.
The teens were marched through the sanctuary. Toby looked neither left nor right, but the golden glow of the decorations burned in his peripheral vision. Ayla’s boots rang against the marble floor.
The inverter was a hard knot against his stomach. He had taken his bandages from his legs and used them to secure it, but he still worried that it could come out during the fight.
Toby push the inverter from his mind. He couldn’t afford to be distracted.
The locks clicked and slowly the sanctuary door opened. There was a collective intake of breath.
The square in front of the cathedral was full. The sundial had been removed. Now in the centre was a large ring, wider than the bridge of the Phoenix and twice the height of Arthur, created by sharp-edged junk-shards like gaping jaws. The sun glittered from the metal teeth and gaps between the junk allowed Toby to see inside to what seemed to be an empty arena.
Around the fighting ring there were tight circles of attendants on raised benches, more than two hundred brothers, sisters and uncles; even the sunblind in their different-coloured robes. The whole Order had come to witness the final trial.
“There’re Noah and Leila.” Ayla pointed and Toby shivered. Beside them, Toby saw Aldo and Celeste, chins lowered, unwilling to look up.
“Can you see the others?” Lenka whispered.
“Zahir and Uzuri.” Summer nodded to the opposite side of the ring, where the African couple were almost invisible inside hooded robes. “I can’t see Adele or Adrien.”
“And Brody and Moira are still in the infirmary,” Ayla murmured.
“The others seem all right.” Arthur pushed in front of Toby. “Don’t you think?”
“I doubt they’ve said a word of complaint,” Matus said quietly, releasing some of the tension in the air.
“I might’ve liked you, Matus,” Ayla murmered.
“Yeah? Well, now I’m going to kick your arse.” Matus’s words were defiant but his shoulders remained slumped and Lenka’s hand slipped into his.
Toby turned and saw Father Dahon proceeding up the central aisle of the sanctuary towards them, his long robes brushing the pews, his face questing for sunlight.
“Move aside,” Mother Hesper ordered.
Toby pulled Ayla closer to him and Father Dahon walked into the space, stopping on the very edge of the steps.
The watching crowd grew still.
“It’s time,” Mother Hesper said. She looked at Summer. “Make me proud.”
Summer nodded and an attendant uncle opened a wrought-iron gate set into the arena. He gestured at Toby. He and Ayla were going to be first down the steps and through.
Once the wrought-iron gate had been locked behind the teens, they instinctively took up positions around the outside of the ring: Matus beside Lenka, Arthur next to Summer, and Toby with Ayla.
From inside the wall seemed even taller, as oppressive as the junk dam the Phoenix had used to enter the Gozitan waters. Even though the area they had to fight in was perhaps three metres square, the wall loomed, creaking as if it might collapse on them, and sharp spikes protruded, shrinking the arena even more.
Toby could see the attendants through gaps in the rusting junk, none big enough to let any of the fighters slip out, but wide enough to allow the audience to see what was going on.
The weight of two hundred rapt gazes fell on Toby and he bounced on his toes, feeling as if insects were crawling beneath his skin. On the surface Ayla seemed calm, but Toby caught the twitch of her jaw that told him she was wound tight.
Toby knew Ayla could fight, but she had exposed weaknesses to the others – her burned and clawed shoulder, her injured thigh. Summer, by contrast, had no injuries and a lot more fighting experience than they had realized.
He shifted closer to Ayla. “Stay on my right,” he murmured.
“If I can.” She nodded at Arthur. “They’re playing to win.”
“From the beginning,” Toby added.
Ayla blew a stray hair out of her eyes. “Do you think they really had no idea about the challenges?”
Toby didn’t answer. It didn’t really matter now.
Father Dahon appeared on a raised platform to the right of the arena.
He raised his arms. “You may have heard that this is a fight, but it is not a mere battle. It is a challenge.” He signalled and two attendants lowered ropes, one on either side of the arena. They dangled almost two metres above Toby’s head, far out of reach. From one rope hung a wooden staff, from the other a magnifying glass.
Then Toby heard the rasp of a panel opening. His eyes followed the sound to see a wooden hatch the size of a small box set into all the sharpened metal. It was open at the back so that he could see the crowd through it.
It too was out of reach.
Mother Hesper’s face appeared in the opening. She held up a glittering diamond sun pendant, ensuring that everyone inside the ring and out could see it.
“Here is a single pendant,” she called. “Diamond. The truest representation of the Sun that we have.” The attendant crowd gasped in awe. Many of the brothers and sisters had never seen the Reliquary. “The winning couple will be the first to hold this pendant in their hands.”
She placed the diamond inside the box and closed the hatch, cutting off Toby’s view.
Father Dahon raised his own arms. “The Sun will aid his favoured pair.”
The crowd cheered and they all heard a bolt close.
Toby felt some of the tension slide from his shoulders. It was not, as he had feared, to be a fight ‘to the death’, but instead a physical and mental challenge. How could he use a staff and a magnifying glass to open a bolted door?
Across from him, Arthur cracked his knuckles. He was frowning.
“Every few minutes a bell will ring,” Father Dahon called. “When you hear it you must stop fighting, turn to the Sun and pray until the next bell – at which point the challenge will continue. Those who stand and pray will receive the Sun’s aid. The ringing of all five bells will signify the end of the trial and the selection of the new Sun and Moon.”
“We need to get the staff and the magnifying glass,” Toby whispered.
“No. We take out the competition first,” Ayla countered. “Worry about the puzzle when we’re alone.”
A bell rang. The teens hesitated, looking at one another, then the brothers and sisters outside began to roar their support for the different couples.
Lenka swaggered towards the centre, leaving Matus standing awkwardly at the edge of the arena. Summer nudged Arthur and he powered towards Matus with a burst of speed. As soon as Lenka realized what was happening she turned, but Arthur was already there.
Matus barely had time to lift his hands before Arthur raised a fist like a mallet and hammered him in the forehead, exactly where he had been injured in the maze.
There was a crack and Matus hit the ground.
Arthur shook out his fist and turned to Lenka, who skidded to a halt and back-pedalled.
“I-I think he just killed Matus,” Toby gasped.
“He put Matus out of the fight,” Ayla hissed.
Toby ran to stand next to Lenka and raised his hands, palms out.
“Arthur…”
Arthur powered forwards like a juggernaut.
Toby took his foot in the thigh, where his skin had been badly burned by the salt. He turned from the force of the blow, instinctively crouching to take the weight on his other leg, then he shot out with his elbow, aiming for Arthur’s ribs.
Arthur was pushing past to reach Lenka, but Toby’s blow knocked him off balance.
Lenka took her chance and went at his face with her nails. Arthur pushed her away, his cheek bleeding and she retreated towards Ayla. Perhaps she thought that if Toby was trying to help her, then Ayla would, too.
Her mistake.
Ayla flew into a spinning kick at Lenka’s chest and knocked her straight back into Arthur. He grabbed her in a sleeper hold and squeezed. Her fingers scrabbled on his forearms but her movements grew weaker with every passing moment.
Arthur was going to kill Lenka.
“There’s no need for this.” Toby hurled himself on to Arthur’s back. His fingers slid from Arthur’s oily skin and, unable to secure a grip, Toby slid back down.
“Ayla!” he yelled.
“It’s a competition,” Ayla snapped.
“He’s going too far!”
With a final quiet exhalation Lenka went still and her head flopped forwards, but Arthur kept the pressure on.
Toby ran for him again, this time launching into a kick that swept Arthur’s back leg out from under him.
Arthur thudded to the ground and Lenka was thrown out of his grip like a rag. She lay unmoving and Toby’s heart sank.
Arthur curled a lip and turned to Toby. “You shouldn’t have interfered.”
Toby started to retreat and then the bell rang.
“Stand and pray.” The noise caught Toby by surprise. It was as if there had been nothing but the six of them. Now the world came crashing back in.
Toby was suddenly aware of the sun beating down, the swell and surge of the attendant’s cries and the scent of unwashed bodies and dust. Above, the staff and magnifying glass swayed on their ropes.
As Ayla moved to his side, Toby looked for Summer. She was watching Arthur with a small smile on her face.
Summer raised her arms. After a moment Arthur copied her. Toby looked at Ayla.
“We have to,” she muttered and she too lifted her hands to the sky.
Toby grimaced and did the same. “Praise the Sun.”
“Stand and pray,” Father Dahon repeated.
Toby realized that he was talking to Lenka and Matus.
The crowd began to chant: “Stand and pray, stand and pray.”
“Stop it,” Toby yelled. “Can’t you see them?” His arms began to ache.
No one came to remove Lenka and Matus and no help arrived for the four who were standing and praying as ordered. They had been promised help, but perhaps it was purely spiritual aid that Father Dahon had meant.
Then Ayla pointed. “Look.”
The staff was lowering. Now the rope hung a good arm’s length closer to Toby’s head.
The second bell rang. It was time to fight.
“Stay with me.” Ayla raised her fists.
Toby rotated his wrists and did the same, never taking his eyes from Arthur. The bigger boy was snake fast, he had already seen it.
This time, with a howl like the Banshee, Summer pounced on to Ayla’s back and spun her. Toby turned to look and that was when Arthur hit him.
He ploughed into the earth. Knowing Arthur would be on him immediately, Toby closed his hand around a handful of loosened earth. Aiming for Arthur’s eyes, he flung the sand up, rolled sideways, and checked with one hand that the inverters were still wrapped tight against his stomach.
He scrambled up as Arthur cried out and began to circle towards Ayla.
Arthur followed. “Give up, Toby,” he growled in a low voice. “I’ll make it quick.”
Toby shook his head. Arthur’s curls were sticking to his forehead with sweat and he seemed to be growing larger and more powerful with each breath he took. How the hell could Toby have a chance against him?
A shriek of pain almost took his attention, but Toby didn’t dare turn. If it was Ayla, there was nothing he could do to help, if it was Summer … well, good.
Frantically his mind took him through Callum’s lessons in hand-to-hand combat. Eyes, ears, nose, throat and groin: those were the weak points.
Toby had already targeted Arthur’s eyes. The boy was happy to go sunblind anyway. Would that make it all right to gouge?
Toby opened his fist.
He would distract Arthur with a knife hand to the throat and then go for his eyes.
When Arthur charged, Toby was already moving. Arthur dodged backwards to avoid Toby’s hand at his throat but Toby shot upwards with his fingers, aiming for the eyes. He missed with his index finger, but his middle one struck home.
Arthur screamed and knocked Toby away. The crowd noise built to a crescendo. As Arthur staggered, Toby took the opportunity to check on Ayla. She and Summer were on the floor. Summer was underneath, desperately trying to punch Ayla in the left shoulder, but Ayla was holding her down and leaning close. Toby remembered their own first meeting. Summer was about to get that same headbutt.
He turned back to Arthur. “Why don’t you give up?”
Arthur kept one hand over his eye and began to pace towards Toby.
There was the sound of a smack and a cry from Summer. Both Toby and Arthur looked. Ayla was sitting back and Summer was groaning, her nose bleeding and her eyes unfocused. Ayla raised her fist just as the bell rang.
Ayla’s fist came down.
“Stop.” Mother Hesper’s voice reverberated around the arena. “You must stand and pray.”
“Stand and pray. Stand and pray,” the crowd chanted.
“Cheater,” Ayla roared. But she rolled off Summer.
Arthur ran and lifted Summer to her feet. Her plaits were coming loose and a red mark was blossoming between her eyes.
Toby took Ayla’s hand and raised it into the air. “Praise the Sun,” he yelled.
Above them the rope with the glass on it began to come down.
When the bell rang again, instead of attacking, Arthur boosted Summer on to his shoulders and she reached for the long staff.
“Stop them!” Ayla shouted.
Toby ran. Ayla was just behind him, limping now on her injured leg.
The staff was out of Summer’s reach, but Arthur grabbed Summer’s feet and lifted her higher. She balanced on his hands and got hold of the staff.
Toby bowled into Arthur’s legs, knocking him flying, but Summer was already somersaulting down, staff in hand.
Toby bit down on a curse as Summer stood, spinning the staff as professionally as Dee.
Ayla came to a halt. “You think that’ll change things?” she said. “You think I can’t take it from you?”
In one smooth movement, Arthur kicked Toby away and rolled to his feet. As Summer ran at her, Ayla used a crescent kick to knock the staff sideways with her boot. Then she stepped in close, so Summer couldn’t use the staff against her and Toby relaxed: she had this.
Ayla turned so that her back was against Summer’s chest and she gripped the hand holding the staff. As Toby watched, hands like steel bands wrapped around his biceps. He should never have taken his eyes off Arthur.
Toby struggled as Arthur began to run him backwards towards the jagged shards of metal that lined the arena wall. He tried headbutting, but could get nowhere near. His arms were pinned. He tried to raise his knee, but Arthur was moving too fast.
“Toby!” Ayla screamed.
The shadow of the wall fell on Arthur’s face; cool shade bathing them in grey. Toby dropped his whole weight into the other boy’s arms, aiming to throw Arthur off balance. It worked, and quickly Toby wrapped his legs around Arthur’s knees to trip him. They rolled and came to a stop, centimetres from the junk-metal ring.
Arthur tried to force him nearer and Toby wriggled frantically.
Wham! Ayla landed on Arthur’s back and punched down on his neck with both hands knotted together. His grip on Toby went slack.
As Toby squirmed out from under Arthur, Summer appeared as if from nowhere and slammed the staff down on Ayla’s back. She cried out.
The bell rang.
The four teens pulled apart, panting raggedly.
Toby grabbed Ayla’s arm and pulled her into the centre of the arena, away from the baying crowd and the rusting metal spikes on the wall.
Arthur was bent over, his hands on his knees. Blood dripped from his damaged eye.
Summer clutched the staff tightly.
“We need a plan,” Toby rasped.
Ayla nodded as she raised her hands. “Praise the Sun.”
But there was no time. The magnifying glass began to lower and the bell rang once more.
This time Summer and Arthur approached Toby and Ayla together, moving as one.
Ayla rubbed sweat out of her eyes. “How long did they practice?”
“A lifetime?”
Ayla was already moving. “Get Arthur,” she cried. She ran straight at Summer. She was fast, but her limp had become much more pronounced. A small smile played on Summer’s face and she adjusted her stance, aiming her weapon at Ayla’s left leg.
Arthur circled Toby, his arms spread. Both of them were half watching their partners.
At the last second Ayla switched her gait, threw all of her weight on to her left leg and swept her right heel around. As she took Summer’s feet out from under her, the staff came down. Ayla hissed in pain as it struck her back, but she reached up and grabbed the weapon from Summer’s fingers.
In one smooth move she snapped it on her knee and threw half to Toby.
“No!” Toby screamed. Had Ayla forgotten the puzzle? They needed that staff.
He caught the broken shard and faced Arthur.
“Your partner just screwed us all,” Arthur yelled.
Toby glanced at the splintered point of the broken staff in his hand.
Arthur started to back away from him and Toby drove him towards Lenka’s crumpled body. Too late Arthur saw her outflung arm. He tripped and fell. Instantly Toby leaped on his chest and held the pointed stick at his throat.
“It’s over,” he yelled.
The crowd howled their fury and frustration. Arthur and Summer were the clear favourites.
There was no bell; no sign that anyone had heard him.
“I could kill him,” Toby shouted. “We’ve won.” He looked for Ayla: she was lying on top of Summer, choking the girl with her own half staff.
What were the sun worshippers waiting for?
Summer’s blue eyes drifted closed and the attendants surrounding the arena seemed almost ready to rush them and save her. Through the gaps in the wall Toby could see them sway. His heart pounded and he touched the inverters.
Ayla stood and marched towards him.
“Finish it,” she snapped.
Toby shook his head. “I can’t – not without killing him.”
Ayla glanced towards the cathedral steps. Father Dahon and Mother Hesper now stood side by side, watching. “They’re not going to stop the fight. We haven’t finished the trial.”
Arthur began to struggle and Toby pressed the stick against his throat, hard enough to break skin.
“I’ll deal with this,” Ayla said. “Get out of the way.”
Toby shook his head. “I won’t let you kill for me.”
“How long are you planning on sitting there then?” Ayla said. “I won’t kill him.”
Ayla gripped Arthur’s chin, twisted his head to the side and raised her stick.
Her weapon came down so fast it was a blur. There was a thud as the blunt end of the staff connected with the soft spot behind Arthur’s ear.
With surgical precision, Ayla had knocked him out.
Trembling, Toby sagged back on to his heels. The bell rang and he and Ayla stood up.
“Pray, pray,” the attendants chanted.
After so much practice the words came easily. “We believe in one Sun, The Father, the Almighty, Heater of heaven and earth, Revealer of all that is seen, and unseen…
Slowly the magnifying glass was lowered until Toby could reach up and grab it. His hands closed around the metal circle surrounding the central glass. He pulled it from the rope and the attendants started to call out. Some shouting for Arthur to waken, others cheering Toby on.
He caught sight of Zahir, smiling painfully at him through one of the gaps and nodded.
On one side of the metal there was a hole, if the magnifying glass was stood upright, the hole would be hidden. Toby could fit his thumb inside. He touched the glass through it, then he compared the hole to his broken stick.
“What’s the problem?” Ayla cocked her head.
Toby looked at the panel in the wall; it was well above his head and surrounded by metal spikes.
“We need the full length of the staff.” He avoided her gaze.
“Is that all?” She knelt by Lenka and tugged the cloth binding from the girl’s hair. Then she handed the linen strip to Toby. “Here, now you can fix it.”
Toby fitted the ends of the staff together again. The cloth was long enough to wrap three times around the break, holding it tight.
Sounds of appreciation broke over the wall. Toby glanced at the sanctuary steps. Mother Hesper stood with her arms folded, glaring at him.
He turned back to Ayla. “Did you think of that before you—”
Ayla raised her eyebrows. “Of course I did.” She laughed quietly. “You really thought I broke the staff without considering how to fix it afterwards.”
Toby flushed. “Sorry.” He brightened as he slotted the staff into the hole in the side of the glass. “There.”
“Now what do we do?” Ayla put her hands on her hips.
“Now we use the sun.” Toby stepped over Summer as he made his way to the wall beneath the panel. “It doesn’t just give out light, but energy. Think of the solar panels.” He held the staff up above his head, angling it so that the light from the sun hit the magnifying glass and shone through on to the wooden plate.
The crowd began to cheer; Summer and Arthur forgotten.
Ayla grinned as the wood began to smoulder. Finally, with a hiss and pop, a flame burst into life. He fed the flame with the sun’s rays until a hole big enough for his hand was eaten into the panel.
Then he dropped the staff.
Together they stared up at the blackened wood. “It’s still out of reach.” Ayla rubbed her temples. “If I wrap your shirt around my hands I could climb—”
“No.” Toby shook his head. “You’ll be cut to shreds. Maybe they’ll send us another bit of equipment at the next bell.”
But no bell rang. The crowd grew restless, Toby felt disapproval radiating through the junk walls.
“How long are we going to stand here?” Ayla whispered. “Arthur and Summer will wake up soon.”
“I know,” Toby said. Then he slapped his forehead. “Remember how Arthur and Summer got the staff?”
Ayla nodded, already moving towards him.
“You think you can balance on your bad leg?” Toby bent so she could climb on to his back.
Ayla ignored his question. She leapfrogged on to him and landed sitting over his shoulders. Toby took her weight and straightened.
“I’m not high enough.” Ayla put her hands on his head. “I’m going to have to stand.”
“Let me get closer.” Toby walked carefully towards the wall. If he tripped or lost balance, he would tip Ayla on to metal spikes. “I don’t like this,” he muttered.
“Compared to climbing the masts or standing watch in a high wind, this is nothing,” Ayla whispered.
Toby relaxed. She was right. He stopped a small step away from the wall and planted his feet.
“Put your hands on your hips,” Ayla said.
“You don’t want me to hold your feet?”
“No, I need your shoulders wide and stable.”
Ayla got her left foot on his shoulder and then her right. He held his breath as her injured leg trembled. Then she got her balance and began to stand.
Behind them, Arthur groaned and Toby caught his breath. “Hurry,” he muttered.
“All right.” Ayla extended one arm; her fingers brushed the splintered hole. “I can’t quite reach…”
Toby slid one foot nearer to the spikes. His heart thudded as Ayla rocked but held her position. Then her fingers slid inside the hole. The burned wood left charcoal smears on her wrist as she pulled her hand out and held the pendant high.
The crowd roared.
“Do you think we get to keep this?” she said, admiring the glitter of sunlight from the diamond.
“The bell’s not rung.” Toby turned to see Arthur trying to get to his feet. “They’re waiting for him to take it from us.”
“I don’t think so!” Ayla leaped from Toby’s shoulders, wrapped her fist around the pendant and punched Arthur in the jaw. He thumped back down and lay still.
The bell began to ring and the crowd shouted for them. “Sun and Moon … Sun and Moon.”
Once more Toby touched the inverters hidden under his shirt. They had done it.
He didn’t watch as the others were removed from the arena.
Ayla hunched at his side, her fist clenched around the pendant as though daring someone to take it from her.
Mother Hesper and Father Dahon appeared at the arena’s exit and the attendant crowd hushed. Mother Hesper’s lips were pursed and her eyes tracked Summer as she was dragged away. Then she turned back to Toby and Ayla.
“Our Sun and Moon,” she said.
The air rippled with the crowd’s ecstatic cries.
Then Father Dahon spoke. “The favoured pair – your Sun and Moon – will now be prepared for the festival.”