Also, Princess Karina sounded awful. She had to be if she could rattle the otherwise unflappable Tunde this easily. That certainly made Malik feel better about killing her.

“Enough of this.” Tunde waved a hand through the air as if that might clear the heavy feeling away. “Back to my idea. Driss, you have the support of the largest temple, and your mother is on the royal council. Adil, a goddess came down from the sky to choose you—for that alone, the people love you. And I know everything there is to know about the court. If the three of us work together, no matter who wins, we all end up on top.”

There was merit to Tunde’s idea. Even though Malik did not plan on staying in Ziran past the end of the competition, it seemed unwise to turn the boy down and risk offending the only ally he’d made. But the more time he spent with the other Champions, the more chances they’d have to poke holes in his alibi. All they needed to find was a single discrepancy to prove he was not really Adil Asfour, and then what would happen to Nadia?

And what Tunde had said about the people loving Malik, was that really true? Malik looked at the far wall, where a betting board for Solstasia had been strung up. On one side, people had listed their ideas as to what the remaining challenges may entail, and everything from sword fighting to elephant racing had been scribbled down. On the other side, people had placed bets on which Champion would emerge victorious at the end, big red Xs over the faces of the two who had already been eliminated.

Unsurprisingly, Driss had the most bets beside his name. But much to his own shock, Malik was in second place. Dozens of people had gambled their hard-earned money on him winning Solstasia and delivering the Life-Aligned their first era in more than two hundred years. People who didn’t even know him, yet were so sure he could win.

People Malik was going to let down by killing their princess.

Finally, Driss responded. “I think your proposal is an awful idea and that you are an embarrassment to everything Solstasia stands for, though I doubt someone of your background would understand that.”

Malik froze in his seat, but Tunde simply laughed. “Please go on.”

“To be chosen as a Champion is an honor. It is a chance to show the glory of our gods before the entire world. I have trained every day of my life to be worthy of this title, yet you wish to use this opportunity as nothing more than political maneuvering.”

The earnestness in Driss’s voice was surprising. For all the boy’s grumbling, he truly believed in Solstasia and the unity it was meant to bring.

“Forgive me if I say it is quite naive to believe that no political maneuvering is involved in Solstasia whatsoever,” replied Tunde. “In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the sultana secretly chooses the winner each time.”

Fury washed over Driss’s face. “Are you implying that my grandmother didn’t deserve her win?”

Malik began to search for the exits, in case this verbal dispute devolved into a physical one, but Tunde’s tone was light as he replied, “I don’t think anyone here deserves to win more or less than anyone else, nor do I think that any of the past winners didn’t deserve to win. But I think—no, I know that whoever wins and ends up marrying Karina needs to understand that ruling people is not the same as winning three random challenges.”

This time, Tunde was looking at Malik as well when he said, “Do you know why the Botyes and the Barimas can’t be invited to the same event without risking a civil war? Or why the matriarch of the Sebbar family has to pay six tons of wheat to the royal coffers every four months? Do you understand how every decision made by a few dozen families affects all of Sonande?”

When neither Driss nor Malik replied, Tunde shook his head. “I didn’t think so. This Champion thing? This is child’s play. The real competition will begin the moment the Closing Ceremony is over. That’s the competition I care about winning.”

Malik had not given any thought as to what would happen after Solstasia ended. The other Champions would live the rest of their lives with their status as a badge of honor, and most of them would probably go on to high-ranking positions within the court. One would even be the next royal consort, the second-most-powerful person in the city. Solstasia would end in five days, but its effects would linger for decades.

And what about Malik? Even if he completed Idir’s task, and did so without being caught, there was no way he could keep up this Adil charade long-term. But once a Champion, always a Champion. Would returning to a life of anonymity after this be possible?

Did he even want that?

Through this exchange, the smile never once left Tunde’s face. It was clear now that a calculating mind lurked beneath the Water Champion’s friendly demeanor, and this realization shed a new light on all of his and Malik’s prior interactions. Had Tunde helped Malik earlier as a way to endear himself to him? And even so, how was Malik any better when he had only agreed to come tonight to glean information about Princess Karina?

He had wandered into a web, one Driss and Tunde had been born to navigate despite their differing views, spiders at home among the interlocking threads that made up the court.

And what was Malik compared to them? Just a fly waiting to be swallowed whole.

A vein bulged in Driss’s temple, and he looked as if he might vault over the table straight for Tunde’s neck. But then his shoulders sagged, and he sat back with his arms crossed, scowling.

“Get me another drink,” he barked, and Tunde gladly used his awful Darajat to call for another round. Malik fiddled with the band on his wrist, grateful the crisis had been averted. Hopefully, he’d get another chance to turn the conversation back to the princess and her movements.

But until then, all he could do was have another glass of wine and pray that the most intense portion of the night had come to an end.

16

Karina

The sounds of River Market disappeared into the night, and a shiver ran down Karina’s spine, though the feeling was not wholly unpleasant. Just as she began to fear she had made a horrible mistake, she emerged into a world of starlight and greenery.

Trees stretched in every direction, the canopy around them so tall it seemed to brush against the constellations overhead. The air was laden with moisture, and within minutes sweat rolled down Karina’s neck. The soft cries of cicadas, hooting owls, and other night beasts filled the air as Afua led her to a wide clearing in which half a dozen thatched huts surrounded a large campfire and campground filled with people.

Though she had never been there herself, years of lessons were enough for Karina to recognize the vast jungle north of the Odjubai Desert. The ancestral home of the Arkwasian people.

In an instant, Karina forgot about Solstasia, the Rite of Resurrection, even the Kestrel, as she caught her first glimpse of the world beyond Ziran’s walls. She took a deep breath, her heart in her throat; the air smelled like sunlight and rain.

“This tent is completely against regulation,” she muttered, rubbing the yellow petals of a hibiscus flower between her fingers. It felt as real as any she’d seen in Ziran.

“The outside fits the space your officials gave us!” argued Afua. “They never said anything about the inside.”

“Is that some kind of portal?” Karina nodded to the small sliver of city visible through the tent flap at the other end of the clearing.

“It’s a size spell mixed with a perception enchantment.” Afua puffed out her chest. “I fashioned it myself. When you’re far from home, it helps to bring a little bit of home with you.”

Karina gestured to the jungle around them. “And you used nkra to make all this?”

“You don’t use nkra. It’s more like you direct it.” Afua wrinkled her nose at Karina’s confused look. “The scholars in Osodae could give you a better explanation. They taught me everything I know.”

“So what is—”

“Afua! There you are!” Before Karina could finish her thought, a heavyset woman who looked too much like Afua not to be her mother approached from behind. “Help me dish out the soup for dinner.”

“But, Mama, I need to help this girl first!”

“Last time you ‘helped’ someone, wasps manifested in my home.”

“That was a coincidence! Mama, the princess sent her—”

“Then she’s welcome to join us and do her business after we’ve eaten.”

“That’s very kind of you, but I don’t really have time to—” Karina began, but she was no match for Afua’s mother’s desire to feed her. The woman dragged her to the largest hut in the compound, within which even more people bustled around preparing the night’s meal.