“No,” I screamed. Only the drummer flinched. Olugbade’s Eleven remained perfectly still, letting the emperor’s Ray unite them in focus. Hundreds of feet below, spectators filled the courtyards, squinting up to view the execution.

“You should have stayed away.” When Olugbade turned to face me, his tone was maddeningly gentle. “A child should not oversee the death of her parent. I see that now. The stress of such a decision caused your misbehavior in the Imperial Hall. So tomorrow, you will revoke your ruling and express your apologies. Then I think you must be sent away for a while.” He smiled in a manner so benevolent, it made my bones shiver. “A young girl must be given space to grieve.”

The only space you want for me, I thought, is the bottom of a crypt. “You can’t kill her,” I shot back. “She hasn’t had a trial.”

“Ah.” Olugbade tutted, shaking his head. “I never needed a trial to kill her, Tarisai. But I needed to test you. To unmask the monster that I raised beside my own son.” The emperor sighed. “I was kind, Tarisai. Any natural child would have given me their loyalty. But I see now that an egg laid by a python, no matter how small, will always sprout fangs in the end.” He turned back to his council. “Release.”

I screamed again, and arrows flew through the sky. The crowds below grew still … and then began to rumble, agitated with wonder.

Eleven arrows hovered in the air around The Lady, inches from her skin, before falling harmlessly to the floor. The roof fell silent except for the drummer, who fainted as one who had seen a god.

His instrument fell with a resounding thud, rolled over the edge of the tower, and splintered on the ground far below.

The Lady asked, “Am I still a fake, brother?”

“It’s an illusion,” Olugbade said firmly. “Enchantment. Sorcery. We’ll try another way.”

“We can’t, Olu,” Thaddace said without taking his eyes off The Lady. “I don’t know what happened. But what we saw … Everyone saw.” He gestured at the teeming crowds below. “You can’t kill her now, not like this. People will have … questions.”

My chest tightened with hope. Olugbade’s pride had trapped him. He should have murdered The Lady in private, trying every form of mortal death until he found one that worked. No one would have seen his failed attempts. No one would have guessed at The Lady’s power.

But my First Ruling had made Olugbade rash. Like a snake gripping a branch in flood season, he clung to his belief in The Lady’s illegitimacy. By insisting on this public execution, he had trapped himself.

“Poison,” Olugbade said, reaching beneath his agbada to produce a vial of noxious liquid. The emperor’s pupils were dilated as he produced a knife from his robes, shaking the contents of his vial over the blade. The smell stung my nostrils, and Olugbade smiled. “Enchant this away, witch.”

The Lady was immune to poison too. I had seen the empress mask, and remembered the glow of a vibrant green stripe. But to my surprise, The Lady agreed.

“Fine. I submit to you, brother.” She paused. “But an honorable emperor would allow me my last rites. Before you kill me, let the High Priestess read me the Ending.”

After terse whispers from his council, Olugbade set his jaw and nodded for Mbali to step forward.

The High Priestess was shaking as she made the sign of the Pelican on The Lady’s chin. “I’m sorry,” Mbali whispered as the mirrors from her prayer shawl scattered gold orbs across The Lady’s face. “You know I didn’t want this.”

To my surprise, a tear dropped silently to The Lady’s cheek. “I know, Mbali.”

“Do you know the words?”

The Lady nodded. The Ending was a prayer most Arits learned as children: Tonight I may join Egungun’s Parade; tonight I may be purified. Am, who wrote my birth and death: Guide me to Core, the world without end. The women swayed as they held each other, speaking in unison. “Tonight I may join Egungun’s Parade …” Again, Mbali made a sign on The Lady’s brow. “Tonight I may be purified. Am, who wrote my birth and death: Guide me to—”

The Lady seized Mbali under the arms, toppling them both to the ground. Still gripping Mbali with her lean, muscular arms, she swung the High Priestess to dangle over the edge of the tower.

The crowd below shrieked.

“Decision time, brother,” The Lady panted. “If only—if only you had let us be a family.”

The Emperor’s Council surged forward, but halted in fear when The Lady’s grip loosened. Olugbade placed his knife on the ground with calculating calm. “It’s me you want dead,” he said, “yet you cannot kill a Raybearer. This is futile, Lady. If you hurt Mbali, you will only die a villain. Come. Give her to us and end this with dignity.”

“Someone is going over the edge of this tower,” she replied. “Someone dropped, or someone pushed. I don’t want to hurt her, but the choice is yours.”

“It is not for you to give choices,” Olugbade retorted.

But The Lady wasn’t looking at the emperor. Her eyes were locked on Thaddace … who stood right by the emperor, and the edge of the tower. The High Lord Judge turned ashen.

No. She couldn’t mean … It wasn’t possible. How did The Lady even know that Thaddace …

Then my heart turned to lead.

She knew, because I had told her. I had wanted to make her laugh. I had betrayed Thaddace and Mbali’s secret: the only leverage that could turn a council member against his emperor. I had sold Thaddace’s soul for a smile.

“Don’t do it,” Mbali rasped at Thaddace. “Remember what you believe. There is no justice. Only order.”

“You don’t believe that,” Thaddace whispered. “You never have.”

Mbali gave a faint smile. “Some lies we believe to survive.” Then she dug her nails into The Lady’s arm, and The Lady yelped with surprise. Her grip on Mbali loosened.

“No,” Thaddace bellowed. The whites of his eyes flashed, and the air crackled as his heat-precision Hallow spiraled out of control. The energy was so strong, I could see his memories without touching him. A childhood of poverty and crime blossomed in my mind’s eye, along with a freckle-covered Mewish boy who longed for stability. I floated through the day he arrived at the Children’s Palace, gaping at the first clean clothes he had ever worn. I hurled forward years. Thaddace’s heart swelled with disbelief: Olugbade, the young prince he had grown to worship, had just named him High Judge of all Aritsar. Him—a thief from the rat-ridden slums of Clough-on-Derry!

I flew forward again. The boy was a man now, enforcing law with the penitent severity of a former criminal. He fell for a priestess girl from Swana, for her eyes that saw the truth, and her kiss that tasted of mercy. With a single nudge from her smooth dark fingers, his idols of stability crumbled.

Years passed. He grew fond of a child who reminded him of himself. A feared child, born into dishonor: the daughter of a criminal. He watched her grow in the Children’s Palace, smiling at her tenacity. He put his faith in her, and when the time came to pick his successor, he offered her the same chance at redemption that had been given to himself.

More years. Gray crept into the man’s red hair as he struggled to live in the tension. He loved the law. He worshipped Mbali. He revered Olugbade, his lord and brother.

How could Thaddace know that the girl he had chosen—the child he had given a chance—would cause that tension to snap? That she would betray his secret? That she would topple everything he held dear?

“I’m sorry,” I gasped. “I’m so sorry.”

Then Thaddace, High Judge of Aritsar and beggar boy from Clough-on-Derry, sobbed, swiveled, and pushed the Emperor of Aritsar over the edge.

The Lady fumbled at the same time. With a cry of horror, she dropped Mbali.

It was quieter than I would have expected, the crack of a body meeting stone. Louder was the sound that followed, a continuous shrill that cut to my eardrums like needles. The crowds were stampeding, fleeing as cohorts of Imperial Guard warriors filled the courtyard. Thaddace was being dragged away by his council, limp as a rag doll, his green eyes deadened with grief.

A single crack.

Which body? My pulse roared in my ears. Which body?

Then a figure rose in the sky, blocking the sun’s merciless rays. His jet hair floated, a corona in the wind. The symbols on his body glowed, curving down his sinewy arms, which held a shivering burden: Mbali.

Alive.

The man set the High Priestess down, and she scurried, gasping down the stairs leading back into the palace.

“You came back to me,” breathed The Lady.

“I came back to you,” Woo In agreed. Then he grabbed Olugbade’s knife from the ground and swiped at The Lady.

“That’s for lying to my people,” Woo In cried as a long, thin line of crimson blossomed on The Lady’s cheek. “Now you’re marked, like I am—like the thousands of Redemptors you would send to their graves. You can forget about Songland’s help. When you’re empress, I’ll make sure they want nothing to do with you.”