Farid took a breath that seemed to steal all the air from the room. “I know. And I’d do anything to have her back, for even just a day.”

The urge to tell Farid about the Rite of Resurrection burned on the edge of Karina’s tongue. However, she held back, not only because Farid would surely disapprove of utilizing forbidden magic but because discussing the ritual would lead to a line of thinking she couldn’t face: Of all the people the world had lost, what right did she have to bring back just one?

Solstasia would end with only one king. Karina had one chance to bring someone back from the dead, and the choice of who it would be had been made for her the second she’d watched the Kestrel’s body fall still.

But perhaps it was because Farid seemed so frail that she blurted out, “I think there’s a traitor on the council.”

“What?”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Karina regretted them. She’d promised Commander Hamidou she wouldn’t tell anyone about the traitor. But Farid wasn’t anyone. Farid was Farid. He’d been there when she’d broken her first bone and listened to her awful beginner recitals back when she’d barely known the difference between a note and a rest. Farid was the only family she had left.

“Commander Hamidou told me after the Opening Ceremony that they’d found the bodies of all the servants who had access to the Kestrel’s garden,” she explained. “Someone who works in the palace and knew the servant schedule had to have been behind the attack, or at least gave the information to the person who was.”

Farid nodded slowly, lines furrowing on his brow. “I don’t want to believe it, but it makes sense. I will handle this. In the meantime, there is still some time left before the Second Challenge. You should rest while you can.”

Karina shook her head. “Not yet. I’m checking over guard rotation to make sure there aren’t any more raids planned tonight.”

“No one would fault you for sleeping after the day you’ve had,” Farid said gently, but Karina shook her head.

Fatigue wound through Karina’s muscles, but she couldn’t rest, not when there was still so much she needed to do to protect Ziran.

Besides, when night fell in a few hours’ time, she’d finally be face-to-face with the Champions for the first time. She needed to mentally prepare herself to meet the boy she’d have to kill.

The air in Karina’s personal box had changed when she returned for the Second Challenge. Glimmers of respect brightened people’s eyes, and they nodded their heads in deference as she passed. The council members were cordial, but none tried to speak to her.

“If I had known all I needed to do to earn the people’s respect was best someone in wakama, I would have done so a long time ago.” Karina turned to Aminata, only to remember the maid was back at the palace per Karina’s own orders. Not even a full day had passed since their falling-out, yet it felt like she’d gone decades without her friend’s comforting presence.

But there was no way she could ask Aminata to come back after sending her away, so Karina ignored the gulf of loneliness and returned her attention to the stadium. A team of servants had constructed a massive stage on the dry dirt, and now the five remaining Champions stood waiting as all of Ziran cheered for them.

The priestess signaled for Karina to begin, and she cried out, “Solstasia afeshiya!”

“Solstasia afeshiya!” came the reply, fifty thousand strong.

“As the sun sets on this third day of Solstasia, we have gathered once more in the name of our Great Mother, who created all! Tonight, I invite every person who draws breath, infant and elder, rich and poor alike, to watch as our Champions regale us with performances to please even the gods!”

Karina took in each of the remaining Champions, staring for half a second longer at Adil than at the others. He was so plain—round face with even rounder eyes, a runner’s body with nowhere to run. The poor boy shook so hard Karina could see it all the way from the stands.

“Champions, are you ready?” she called.

They touched their fingers to their lips, and then their hearts. “We’re ready!”

“Ziran, are you ready?”

“We’re ready!” screamed the crowd.

Karina gave a single clap that resounded through the air. “Then let us begin!”

While the servants prepared the stage for Driss’s performance, Karina pondered the riddle of the blood moon flower. The gods who weren’t had to refer to the pharaohs, like Adil had suggested, but what Afua—or Santrofie or whatever being they’d contacted—had meant by “darkness beyond darkness,” Karina couldn’t fathom.

A low drum boomed through the stadium as Driss commanded the stage. He was dressed for a battle, with the takouba he’d pulled from the box in one hand and a tall wooden shield embellished with the emblem of the Sun-Aligned in the other. His bronze armor shone as bright as the sun in whose name he fought, and the markings drawn on his face, chest, and torso resembled a lion in midhunt.

A group of terrified servants carried a cage full of adjule onto the stage. The wild canines were each the size of a baby elephant, with copper fur and wicked fangs that had almost gnawed through the bars of the cage. Many members of the court sighed and giggled as Driss slid into a warrior’s stance across from the snarling bush dogs. If Driss had anything going in his favor, it was that he certainly looked like a king.

He barked an order, and the servants unlocked the cage and fled the stage. The pack swarmed Driss in a mad rush, but he deflected the first dog with expert speed, then whirled around to slash the next one before it could tear into his leg. The crowd screamed encouragement as Driss defeated each of the dozen dogs in turn, his sword moving too quick to see. By the time the last adjule lay on the stage, everyone in the audience was going wild over the performance except Karina, who was disgusted by the unnecessary display of violence. The strength and expertise of the hunter was something to be revered, but this wasn’t a proper hunt done with respect to the animals. This was a slaughter.

Still, out of all the Champions, Driss was probably the safest choice to marry. He already knew all the courtly protocol, his family had extensive assets, and he was popular in the city. He was also the Champion she’d feel the least remorse about killing. His temper was well-known, and rumors said he’d hurt more than a few of his trainers in fits of rage. Try as she might, Karina couldn’t muster much sorrow at the thought of Driss lying dead.

Next up was Khalil, the Wind Champion. He followed Driss’s bloodbath with a poem he had composed about the mirror he’d pulled from the box, and two lines in, the crowd began to boo and jeer. Khalil lasted five minutes before he ran off the stage in tears, and Karina shook her head with pity. Looked like the next era wouldn’t be a Wind one after all.

After Khalil came Dedele. The Fire Champion stopped in the center of the stage holding the flute she’d pulled from the box. She glanced at Karina before turning to the audience and saying, “Kind people of the mighty city of Ziran, it is with great pain in my heart that I formally withdraw myself from Solstasia as your Fire Champion.”

Shouts of outrage rose up from the Fire-Aligned portion of the stands. Karina did her best to hide her grin.

After their wakama match, Dedele had accepted Karina’s command to drop out of Solstasia with dignity.

“A deal is a deal, and no one will ever be able to say that Tolulope’s daughter does not honor her deals.” Her tone had remained even, but the pain in her eyes had been clear. “I’m guessing this has something to do with the betrothal prize?”

Karina had paused before saying, “There is someone I very much wish to be with, and that person must win the competition. Surely you understand.”

Dedele had snorted, shaking her head. “I cannot say I do. But I pity any person who tries to stand in the way of you getting what you desire, Your Highness.”

A part of Karina was ashamed to have interfered with Solstasia in such an underhanded way. But it was worth it, because now she could use the winner’s heart for the ritual, no matter the outcome. Besides, she respected Dedele far too much to kill her.

There wasn’t much else for Dedele to say after her announcement, so she hurried offstage to clear the way for Tunde. A lump formed in Karina’s throat at the sight of him, much to her own annoyance. Though she didn’t regret ending her relationship with him, there were times she missed the friendship they’d had before. But they were both too prideful to be the person who budged on their informal silent war, so she did not see a reconciliation anywhere in their future.

Karina once again turned her thoughts to Santrofie’s riddle as Tunde began an impressive archery display while conducting a rather acrobatic routine that involed balancing a tower of items in the basket on his head.

Darkness beyond darkness. What was darker than darkness? Nighttime? Midnight? What part of this riddle did she not understand?