Within the walls of Ksar Alahari existed an extensive network of passages that had been built during the Pharaoh’s War. Back when there had been enough Alaharis to fill every room in the palace, servants had used this network to maneuver around the grounds without being seen. But after the schism that had massacred most of her family long before Karina had been born, there had been no need for so many servants, and thus many of the tunnels had been abandoned.

It was through one such passage that Karina now raced, a small lantern she’d taken from her bedroom the only light to guide her way. She held the lantern at arm’s length, her gaze avoiding the flickering flame within. The dark stone of the tunnel muffled all sound, and though she’d never feared the dark, Karina had never had to face it on her own before.

The tunnels popped her out at the edge of Ksar Alahari, where she snuck out through one of the servants’ gates. Twenty minutes later, Karina slipped easily into the throngs of people crossing the gorge from the Old City into the Lower.

Solstasia raged as Karina made her way to River Market. She passed beneath a troupe of performers dancing on stilts and around teams of jugglers tossing animals skulls back and forth for delighted children. Young couples ducked into multicolored tents to have their fortunes read while handlers offered rides on tamed lizard beasts with smoke trailing from their nostrils.

Throughout it all, a beautiful symphony of bells and drums and instruments Karina didn’t recognize filled the air. If anyone was bothered by how badly she had botched the Opening Ceremony, they did not show it in the way they celebrated. She had brought Baba’s oud as an alibi in case someone from the palace caught her, but now she longed to pull it from its case and start playing on a street corner, like any one of the musicians who actually belonged down here.

She crossed the dried canal from which River Market took its name, and a city of tents blossomed before her. The population of River Market had swelled since the stampede on Solstasia Eve, and Karina wove her way between tents the size of houses and others the size of closets, tents of sea blue and rose red and glittering gold, until she stopped by a plain brown one barely larger than a small wagon. The only remarkable feature was its flag, a green, black, and gold banner sporting the boar symbol of Arkwasi. A single guard slept with a spear in hand on a wooden stool outside the entrance, drool leaking from the corner of his mouth onto his black-and-white-striped smock.

Karina gently nudged, then sharply kicked, the guard in the shin until he awoke screaming, “Our dimensions are within regulation!”

“Good to know, but I’m not here about your tent,” she said. “I have a message from the palace for the ambassador’s daughter, Afua Boateng.”

The guard squinted at her. “Who are you?”

“Someone who hopes she doesn’t have to explain to the princess why her message did not reach Afua.” Karina held up a letter that she had embossed using the Kestrel’s signet ring before she left. The man gulped and jumped to his feet, backing into the tent.

“Please wait just a moment.”

Karina gave the structure a confused once-over as the guard slipped inside. The Arkwasian delegation had turned down staying at Ksar Alahari for this?

A few minutes later, Afua’s head popped through the tent flap. Her eyes widened in surprise, but before she could say anything, Karina stepped forward and said, “I have a message for you from the princess. I was told to give it to you alone.”

Karina’s emphasis on the last word was clear, and Afua nodded quickly and muttered a few words to the guard in Kensiya. She led Karina behind the tent, where they squatted in its shadow. Afua had changed into a simpler outfit than the one from the comet viewing, just a blue-and-yellow patterned band over her chest and a raffia skirt hanging past her knees, her hair in two cloud-like puffs. Bright glass beads clacked at her waist as she grinned up at Karina.

“Hi! How have you been? Why are you here? Did you bring my goatskin?”

“I’ve been better. I have a question for you. And no.” Karina made a mental note to send someone to buy Afua a new goatskin. And also a pony for her trouble. Everyone loved a gift pony. “I have a favor to ask. But before that, what do you know about nkra?”

Afua gave an unconvincing laugh and looked everywhere but at Karina’s face. “Never heard of it.”

“Yes, you have,” Karina insisted, and Afua squirmed in the usual dance of a child caught in a lie. “You said it to me the night of the comet viewing. Aside from then, the only other place I’ve seen the word nkra is in a book titled The Tome of the Dearly Departed.”

Karina had been prepared to give a long list of reasons why Afua should help her. She had not been prepared for the way the girl shrieked at the mere mention of the tome.

“So you’ve heard of that book before?” asked Karina. “Is it dangerous?”

After making a gesture to ward off evil, Afua replied, “Of course I’ve heard of The Tome of the Dearly Departed. It’s only the most thorough record of the Ulraji Tel-Ra in all existence. Nobody has seen it for a thousand years!”

Well, now Karina felt extra bad that she’d accidentally dropped the book down a gorge. She’d also sat on it at least twice before that. Whoops.

Plus, there was that name again, the Ulraji Tel-Ra her mother had told her about. The sorcerers who had worked for the Kennouan pharaohs. If the book was a record of their spells, then perhaps it was truer than she realized.

“Do the Ulraji Tel-Ra have something to do with nkra? What is it?” When Afua shook her head instead of answering, Karina added, “I promise you anything you say tonight will be kept between us.”

“Blessed Adanko, oh, the evil this girl has brought to my house.” Afua moaned and made a gesture to ward off malice. “No. I don’t like it. How do you even know about magic?”

“I’m a princess. Knowing secrets comes with the job.”

It was clear Karina was going to need a different tactic if she hoped to get information out of this girl. With an exaggerated sigh, she straightened up. “You know what, never mind. I shouldn’t have expected a child to know anything about magic.”

Afua’s face switched from apprehension to pure indignation. “I know about magic!”

“I’m sure you do, but clearly not enough to help me.” Karina waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll find someone with the skills I need. You go back to playing in the mud, or whatever it is children do for fun these days.”

This was low, even for Karina, but she couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty because as she began to walk away, Afua replied, “I can do it! I can help you! But can I at least know why you’re asking?”

It would have been easy enough for Karina to lie, and perhaps it would have been safest to. But before she could stop herself, she blurted out, “My mother has died.”

It was the first time she had shared the news with someone who did not already know, and she forced herself to remain upright as Afua’s face twisted with shock. “Oh.” The girl pressed her palm against her chest. “May the Great Mother guide her to the Place with Many Stars.”

“Thank you, and I trust you will keep this knowledge to yourself. There was information in the tome that could help me solve the mystery of her death, but I don’t have it with me anymore. Aid me in this, and you will always have a friend within Ksar Alahari.”

Karina decided against mentioning which technique from the book she wished to try. No doubt Afua would be less than willing to aid her if she knew they were dabbling in necromancy.

Afua paused, and for a terrifying moment, Karina sensed the girl was going to refuse her once again. However, something bright and wild filled her eyes. “I can help you, but not out here. This way!”

After muttering something to the guard, Afua gestured for Karina to follow her into the tent. Without any hesitation, Karina dropped to her knees and crawled in after Afua, and the world faded to nothing behind her.

15

Malik

As far as bad ideas went, agreeing to go drinking with the other Champions was quite possibly one of the worst Malik had ever had.

First of all, both Dedele and Khalil declined Tunde’s invitation, the former because she was preparing for tomorrow’s wakama tournament, the latter because he had already promised to attend a prayer session at the Wind Temple. Thus, it was only Tunde, Malik, and Driss who sat around a low table in the Dancing Seal, and a more mismatched trio had likely never graced the restaurant’s doors.