They were at the platform near the pyre now, and the heat from the blaze pressed in on all sides. The crowd was in a frenzy as all the energy of Solstasia built up to this one, final moment.

“I promised Hanane I would find a way to destroy that wretched Barrier.” Farid’s voice cracked. “I promised her that when I did, we would have a lifetime together anywhere we wanted. You took that from me. Hiring and training that assassin, manipulating Mwale Omar and the council—all of that has been for this.”

In the sharp outline of Farid’s profile, Karina saw the Kestrel laying her hand on his shoulder, gently encouraging him to take care of himself.

“My mother raised you like her own son!” Karina cried.

“Your mother never knew what I really was,” snapped Farid. “Do you think she would have let me live if she had? She would have sentenced me to death the day I arrived at Ksar Alahari.” Farid’s voice was sharper than the sword at his hip, but still it wavered, as if he were trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “Hanane was the only person who ever knew the full truth about me and accepted me without judgment.”

Karina wished that she could tell Farid he was wrong, that the Kestrel would have loved him even knowing he was of the Ulraji Tel-Ra. But she had seen firsthand her mother’s anger in the Queen’s Sanctuary at just the mention of the ancient sorcerors. If she had known her ward was one of their descendants . . .

At her silence, Farid’s eyes darkened, and his mouth set in a thin line.

“Thank you for finding the blood moon flower,” he said. “I’ve searched for years but couldn’t figure out how to access the necropolis. Now I can take back the future you stole from me.”

He called for the guards, and Karina did not cry out as they shoved her out of the litter.

She did not scream when they forced her to her knees in front of a crowd of thousands.

When the griots immortalized this night in their tales, no one would ever be able to say Karina Alahari had faced death like a coward.

Farid took his place in front of the entirety of Ziran.

“This morning, Her Highness Princess Karina announced that Her Majesty Haissa Sarahel had passed. However, what the princess did not tell you is that it was she who orchestrated our sultana’s death.”

Karina had thought Farid could not sink any lower, but she had been wrong. Not only had he planned the Kestrel’s assassination, he was also going to frame her for it?

“Liar!” Karina roared, thrashing uselessly against her restraints. Her migraine pulsed in time with the fire roaring beside her. Farid was lying about this, just like he’d lied about her killing Baba and Hanane.

Farid continued, “Not just her mother’s death, but her father’s and sister’s as well. Even as a child, her lust for power was so strong that she was willing to murder her own kin.”

Even if Karina had words with which to defend herself, they would not have been heard over the chaotic din of Ziran screaming for justice. Her mother’s displeasure with her had been no secret; now that Farid had twisted the narrative to suit his needs, there was nothing Karina could say to bring the people back on her side. Through the haze of hatred and jeering, she saw someone clad in purple duck down near the platform.

Farid raised a hand. “Tonight, we will see justice for our queen. Guards!”

Two Sentinels carried a human-sized bundle wrapped in a white funeral shroud onto the platform. Only then did Karina realize what he meant to do.

“No!” Karina twisted and flailed to no avail. “It’s not going to work! Farid, it’s not possible!”

Farid only had eyes for the corpse before him. “But it is. My ancestors mastered this ritual thousands of years ago.”

The tattoo slid down Farid’s arm and pooled onto the ground, where it spread out like ink dropped in water. The crowd cheered as a figure uncoiled from the black mass. Idir straightened to his full height, narrowing his eyes at Karina.

“We meet again, Granddaughter.”

Fear had taken hold of her senses, but still Karina snapped, “Of course you’re behind all this. Was betraying our family once not enough for you?”

“Growl at me all you want, but this encounter was entirely his doing.” Idir nodded toward Farid. “He is the one who traveled to my realm to ask for my assistance in resurrecting your sister. When I realized Solstasia would be the perfect chance to destroy the Alaharis and the Barrier at the same time, I couldn’t refuse. Your magic mixed with the boy’s turned out to be just as powerful as I suspected.”

Karina bit down a cry as her migraine seared. “But we’re your descendants as well! Why would you harm your own family?”

“You stopped being my family the moment my dear wife killed our son to build her Barrier and banished me to a rotting hellscape.” Idir scanned Ziran’s sprawling skyline. “All this exists because of my power. I have every right to take it from this world like Bahia took it from me.”

“I upheld my end of our deal, Idir,” interrupted Farid. “The Barrier is down. Now perform the ritual.”

Idir rolled his eyes. “A deal is unfortunately a deal. First, the petals of the blood moon flower, which grows only in the city of the dead.”

Farid upended the contents of the pouch at his waist over the fire. The orange flames transformed into the deep blood red that gave the flower its name.

“Next, the heart of a king.”

The Sentinels handed Farid Tunde’s heart, and he tossed it into the fire as if it hadn’t belonged to a living, breathing person. Tunde’s mother’s overjoyed face flashed through Karina’s mind as the flames burned yellow. The woman still didn’t know her son had died.

“Last, the body of the lost.”

“Don’t touch her!” Karina screamed as the Sentinels brought Hanane’s corpse to Farid. “Even if it works, things won’t be like they were.”

Farid looked Karina straight in the eyes. “Of course they won’t. This time, they’ll be better.”

Lifting Hanane’s corpse with nothing less than a lover’s care, Farid fed her body to the flames. For the second time in her life, Karina watched her sweet, laughter-loving sister disappear into a raging inferno. She retched, but nothing came out. Those closest to the platform had stopped cheering.

The flames turned white, leaping so high they seemed to touch the stars. The fragmented sky had returned, blue light pulsing in the jagged cracks.

“Now the nkra will bind these items together to bring back what was lost,” said Idir. “Until then, remember your promise.”

Both Farid and Idir turned to Karina. Unstrapping the Kennouan sickle from his waist, Farid stepped toward her, genuine anguish in his eyes.

“It’s the only way,” he said, more to himself than to Karina.

Just as Farid’s blade began to curve downward, someone screamed, “Idir!”

Appearing from thin air, Malik dove onto the platform near Farid, startling him enough to pause his swing. Idir locked eyes with Malik, and his lips curled into a smile. Two guards unsheathed their swords and started toward the boy, but Idir called out, “Bring him here.”

The soldiers dragged Malik to Idir’s feet. Karina struggled against her bindings once more, but they held tight.

“I thought I smelled you around here,” said Idir, looking Malik’s battered form up and down. “Why aren’t you rotting in your cell?”

“Your Majesty, during the First Challenge, I had a magical request granted for me without paying tribute to you. I would like to rectify this now.” Malik’s voice shook, but he never broke the spirit’s gaze. Even now, some primal part of Karina pulled toward him, like a compass pointing ever north. “You have waited centuries for the chance to have your revenge against the Alaharis. Why give someone else the pleasure of ending Bahia Alahari’s bloodline when you could do it yourself?”

“Do you think I have not fantasized about doing just that?” Idir barked. “Were it not for the magic we share, I would wring the necks of each of her descendants myself.”

“Then do so.” Malik extended his hand to Idir. “Through me. I offer you myself as payment.”

“This is ridiculous. Slit his throat,” ordered Farid.

“Don’t move,” Idir roared, and the Sentinels froze. Rearing back, the Faceless King narrowed his eyes. “Explain yourself.”

“I am not bound to the Alaharis as you are,” said Malik. “If you take my body, you can use it to kill the princess directly.”

Something between a sob and a hysterical laugh escaped Karina’s lips. She was a fool, a hopeful, delusional fool for ever thinking this boy might have feelings for her. He’d already tried to kill her once, and now here he was offering his body to a monster just for the chance to do so again.

Several emotions spilled over Idir’s face, each more feral than the last. “Why are you offering this?”

“Because then I fulfill my other task as well. If you kill the girl through me, you let my sister go.” Malik glowed with the light of the pyre illuminating him. “Do you accept my offer?”