This was wrong.

Overhead, the sky burst into flames, and the world resumed motion as Karina’s heart returned to her chest. Light exploded across the sky in bursts of dazzling silver and bloody red, delighting the crowd. In all the hundreds of documents Karina had seen detailing the intense preparations for Solstasia, there had not been a single mention of fireworks. However, she didn’t truly see them, for her eyes never left her sister.

Her living, breathing sister.

The delight at the fireworks was such that no one noticed that several of the lion puppets had wandered too close to the platform. Someone gave a shout, and a stream of people burst from the puppets and rushed the stage, their swords flashing as they charged for Karina and Farid. Two of the guards jumped in front of Farid, but he bellowed at them to take Hanane to safety.

“Don’t touch her!” screamed Karina just as a sharp tug sent her toppling into the jaws of a lion.

Karina braced for impact, but strong arms broke her fall. Karina stared as Commander Hamidou held her steady with one hand and began to cut the cords binding her with the other. Her surprise lasted only a moment before she remembered how the Sentinels, her former protectors, had followed Farid’s every order without question.

“Get off me!” Karina cried, struggling against the commander’s grip.

“Karina, it’s all right!” Aminata’s sweat-drenched face popped up over Commander Hamidou’s shoulder. “I swear you can trust every person here, so please stop fighting and move!”

This had to be another one of Farid’s tricks. Karina struggled harder, and the commander tightened her bindings and forced a gag into her mouth. Aminata barked an order, and the lion split into two halves, complete with a second head. The half that Karina had fallen into raced to the right of the platform, and from the sounds of the shouts around them, a whole team of soldiers followed after it.

Commander Hamidou and Aminata smuggled Karina through a flap of cloth leading to a giant zebra puppet, and then a giraffe, passing her from person to person like a sack of rice. In this manner, they fled from Jehiza Square.

The fireworks boomed overhead, muffled by the stifling fabric covering them. All Karina could see was the shadows moving around them as the crowd parted to let their massive cloth monstrosity through.

Through it all, a single thought resounded through her mind.

That thing on that platform was not her sister.

And Hanane had only died in the first place because of Karina. The memories she had pressed down for so many years were bursting to come free, but they were hazy and unfocused. She and Hanane had been arguing about something, and Karina had gotten so angry, then there’d been a flash and—

Her head screamed in protest. Whatever memories she needed to recall were hidden too deep within the pain for her to find.

What felt like an eternity later, Aminata gave the order for them to stop, and they threw off the lion’s facade. They were in River Market, somewhere near the Western Gate. Before them stretched a dark alley, unnervingly silent after the cacophony of Jehiza Square.

Commander Hamidou finally removed the gag from Karina’s mouth and unbound her limbs. Karina backed against the wall, wishing she had a weapon. “What the hell is going on?”

“We’re saving you, obviously,” said Aminata. “Your mother made me promise that if I ever felt the palace had become unsafe, I was to do everything in my power to get you out. We’ve been waiting since her death to make our move, and the cover of the Closing Ceremony seemed like the perfect time.”

“But earlier this evening, you said you agreed with Farid.”

Aminata sighed, wiping at her sweat-drenched face. “There were, and still are, a lot of problems within Ziran. Nothing good can come of a place that refuses to see the pain of the people on whose backs it was built.” She frowned. “But Farid’s methods are wrong. Whatever I can do to stop him, for as long as he doesn’t suspect me, I will.”

Karina stared at Aminata, seeing for the first time more than just the girl she had grown up with. Even when Karina had given up on Aminata, Aminata had never given up on her.

An emotion Karina could not name overtook her body, and she flung her arms around her friend. “I’m so, so sorry for everything.”

Aminata pulled away and placed her forehead against Karina’s. “Don’t worry. There’s still far too much left for us to do for this to be goodbye.” She nodded at the commander. “I’m going to hide the lion somewhere to throw them off our trail, then I have to be back at the palace before anyone notices I’m gone. Follow Commander Hamidou. She’s taking you to people who can help you.”

Fear shone in Aminata’s eyes, but her voice held strong. Nodding, Karina wiped her face with her sleeve and stood beside Commander Hamidou at the entrance to the alley.

“I’ll see you again soon,” said Karina, raising her hand in a small half wave. This wasn’t goodbye. It couldn’t be.

“I’ll see you again soon,” Aminata repeated.

Through knot-like twists and crumbling alleys, Commander Hamidou pushed Karina as fast as she could go. Every time she was certain she would not make it another step, she remembered the fake Hanane, and she surged forward. After what felt like hours but could have only been minutes, Karina collapsed against a crumbling wall, her body heaving.

“I have . . . to rest . . .” she wheezed out.

“We have to keep moving, Your Majesty,” said Commander Hamidou as she scanned the area. “Though our contact should be meeting us somewhere around—”

“—here!” A hooded figure popped out from one of the street’s darkened corners. “Hi, Commander! Hi, Princess!”

Karina nearly cried for joy at the sound of Afua’s voice. “I thought you were under Sentinel custody!”

“I was! But nonmagic prisons aren’t very good at keeping magic people in.” Power brimmed at each of Afua’s movements, similar to the nkra Karina had sensed when the Barrier shattered. Perhaps she had underestimated the young girl.

“It’s time to . . .” Commander Hamidou stilled, hand flying to her blade as the sound of shouts and heavy footfalls pounded in their direction. “Afua, take the sultana and go.”

A look passed between Karina and Afua that encapsulated all the Sentinel did not say: Commander Hamidou, for all her strength and battle expertise, would certainly die facing this many soldiers on her own. But she might be able to buy them time to get away. Before Karina could protest, Commander Hamidou had her cloak off her shoulders and clasped tightly under Karina’s chin.

“Your mother never blamed you for their deaths. None of us did,” said the commander, and Karina could not stop the tears that fell down her face. “When you return, remind us all why it is an honor to wear this armor in your family’s name.”

When, not if.

Throat too raw to speak, Karina nodded and bowed as low as she could. She pressed her fingers to her lips and then her heart. Commander Hamidou nodded her way, then turned to face the attackers. She held up her left palm, and something sparked in the center of her emblem.

“Besides, Your Majesty, you aren’t the only one who has magic to reclaim.”

A jet of fire burst from the commander’s hand, engulfing the oncoming Sentinels. Karina flinched on instinct, and millions of questions ran through her mind, but there was no time to waste; the clash of steel and roar of fire rang through her ears as she and Afua raced forward and took advantage of the commander’s last sacrifice to get away.

“Where are we going? What’s the plan?” asked Karina as they reached an area near the Outer Wall so long abandoned it had no name.

“We’re meeting a friend!”

The path ended at what looked like an abandoned foundouk, built to house hundreds of travelers. In the center of the space, Dedele stood at one end of a flat sand barge with an unassuming brown sail. She grinned, clearly amused by Karina’s shock.

“Nice to see you again, Your Majesty,” said the Fire Champion as Afua and Karina scrambled on board. “I was told you would have a Sentinel with you.”

“She didn’t make it,” whispered Karina, her stomach turning over as she remembered Commander Hamidou’s flames. The commander was—had been—a zawenji, just like Afua.

. . . and just like Karina as well.

Afua sat cross-legged in the middle of the barge. “Let’s get out of here.”

Despite herself, Karina hesitated, the memory of the Barrier urging her to turn back even though the spell itself was gone. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to hold still as Afua placed her palms flat against the dark wood. Sand barges were usually powered by camels or similar other creatures, but this one shot forward from Afua’s touch alone.

Joy shot through Karina’s chest as they cleared the Outer Wall without incident.

The Barrier was truly gone. She was free.