Toads and Diamonds Read Online Free PDF

diamonds in a dish that held a few dried petals instead of the flowers, fruit, or incense they had offered the gods in more prosperous times. The older woman knelt and touched her forehead to the floor, praying under her breath. Diribani followed her stepmother's example, heaping the dish with flowers and jewels.
    Tana couldn't move. Her limbs were too heavy; her mind was untethered, a butterfly flitting between blossoms. Oddly, Tana could hardly decide what she felt. She didn't think the cold, heavy weight inside her was envy.
    Naghali-ji had sent her snake messenger to judge Diribani's soul, and found it worthy. Tana doubted she could have been as brave. With her life in the balance, Tana would probably have begged for mercy she didn't deserve. But Diribani was beautiful inside and out.
    Hadn't she welcomed Tana and her mother, five years earlier, instead of being angry at losing a share of her busy father's attention when he married the widowed Hiral? Diribani had never shown, by word or deed, that she resented her stepsister's growing skill with gems, or Ba Javerikh's praise. When his death had changed their circumstances so dreadfully, Diribani hadn't even claimed a greater share of grief. Without a murmur of complaint, she had sold her costly dresses and paints, and accepted the lowly task of fetching water. Tana had heard about Gulrang and others teasing Diribani at the sacred well. The jealous girls mocked her for clumsiness when they could find no other fault, but Diribani refused to answer taunt with taunt.
    39
    If anything, Tana was pleased that Sister Naghali had shown her favor to such a truly good person. Rather than envy, Tana thought, despair was the emotion that crushed her chest like an iron weight. Had Tana been so tested, the goddess would have seen her sins, her secret fears, her failings. It would no doubt take Tana many lifetimes to learn the generosity of spirit Diribani naturally possessed.
    Like the majority of the empire's common folk--outside of the Believers at the royal palaces, governor's fort, and overseers' quarter--Tana prayed to the twelve at the temple grove on feast days. She left offerings at their household shrine and tried to conduct herself with honor.
    But with proof, clear proof, of Naghali-ji's existence piled on the floor around her, Tana realized that she had gone through the motions of religious practice without any real devotion. She hadn't imagined that a miracle would happen to her family. When she thought of gods and goddesses, she had considered them rather like the emperor and his courtiers at Lomkha: distant, glorious beings she would never encounter.
    The understanding that a person might actually glimpse one of the twelve in her ordinary life, while engaged in her chores, took Tana's breath away. Longing filled her, pushing against the despair. How could she earn the privilege of experiencing the awe that Diribani's face reflected? At the very least, Tana resolved, she would be more patient with her mother's peevishness, more accepting of adversity, more steadfast in faith. A goddess had shown herself to Diribani. Tana vowed never to forget that such a miracle could happen.
    A stinging slap tested her determination to be good. "Ma!" she cried, rubbing her arm. "That hurt."
    40
    "Get up, get up, lazy girl. What are you waiting for?" Her mother thrust the silver pitcher into Tana's hand and pulled her upright. "You must go to the well at once."
    "Why?" Tana said, shocked into bluntness. "Naghali-ji won't show herself to me."
    "Maybe not, but we still need water," her mother pointed out. "If the beggar woman asks for a drink, you can serve her properly. A silver pitcher that has been passed down from mother to daughter across six generations shows more respect than a clay pot, don't you think? And, practically speaking, silver won't break like clay if you happen to drop it."
    Tana turned to Diribani. Her stepsister shrugged and smiled before jumping up to tuck a pink rose