"I am her husband; I demand she be burned to ash!" Xihe's shout cut through the Tribunal like a blade.
"Burn her! Burn the traitor!" a chorus answered.
"Silence!" the Warden struck the obsidian gavel once. The sound broke the chant and left a rough stillness that every god felt press down.
"Speak, Sun Lord," the Warden said. "State your accusation."
"She forged the sun with forbidden soul-blood," Xihe said. "She bound what must not be bound. She traded lives for light. She lied in the light of our courts. She must be unmade."
"Unmade," repeated a voice from the High Chorus.
Lian stepped forward. Her silk did not move with breath. Her voice was a blade wrapped in sugar. "He speaks true," she said. "She stole a second sun and hid what it cost."
"Name the cost," the Warden commanded.
"You will watch," Lian said. "We will watch her memories. Let the Tribunal see who she saved and who she slaughtered."
"Order the sphere," Xihe demanded. "Let every god and warden witness the thread she cut."
A dozen gods murmured assent. Others glanced at one another, hungry for scandal, hungry for a verdict that proved their suspicions right.
"Will you speak for yourself, Nan Xiwan?" the Warden asked.
Nan Xiwan hung at the altar, cords biting her wrists. Her scale-scarred skin caught the dim light. She did not move until the Warden's question carved space for her voice.
"I am tied here, and I will
