“I have no idea,” I lied, and punished him with silence for the rest of the journey.

Hyung did not take us into Eunsan-do. When we climbed out of the pass, the frost abruptly disappeared, and green leaves crunched under the beast’s massive feet as we climbed a ridge that hugged the mountainside. By the time we arrived at a small clearing, clouds had smothered the moon. Tents, plows, and animal pens loomed around us. A single house with a raised foundation creaked beneath a curved, broad-lipped roof. When we staggered inside, the winter air dispersed. Numbness melted away from my feet, though the room had no fire.

“Magic,” I whispered.

“Songland,” Woo In corrected. “We build fireboxes outside. Smoke canals lead under our homes and heat the floor.” The inviting warmth increased when Hyung parked itself in front of the door, effectively sealing the entry shut. “Watch your step,” said Woo In.

“Why should I watch my—”

Then I stumbled over a lumpy bundle. It moaned. My eyes adjusted to the darkness, and across the long, low-ceilinged chamber, tiny bodies sprawled on the floor, faces peering up at me sleepily. Children—every single one covered in blue birthmarks.

“What is this place?” I whispered.

Woo In paused before answering: “A refuge.” Then he pulled me down a corridor to a windowless chamber that smelled of pine needles. “There’s a pallet in the corner,” he murmured. “Rest. We travel tomorrow morning.”

“Where?” I demanded, dizzy with fatigue and council sickness. “Why am I here? What do you want from—” But he closed the sliding wooden door and clicked a lock into place. Only when Woo In’s steps retreated down the corridor did the cries from An-Ileyoba sink in.

The emperor has gone to the village. He will not be back soon. Long live His Imperial Majesty: Ekundayo, King of Oluwan, and Oba of Aritsar.

“Dayo,” I rasped as sobs came with sudden force. “No. I can’t be here; he’ll be alone.” I pounded on the doorframe. “You have to take me back. I didn’t get to explain. He’ll think I abandoned him again. He’ll think—” He’ll think I chose my mother after all.

But I didn’t have a mother. Not anymore.

I staggered back from the door, collapsing onto something soft: a thin leather pallet, piled with musty-smelling blankets. Then I cried my face stiff, sputtering in a pool of sweat and mucus as the empress and princess masks dug into my breasts. I moved only to twist my council ring, around and around until a red ring blossomed around my finger, and my demons dropped fitfully to sleep.

I winced at the morning light trickling in from the corridor. Children’s voices and lowing animals sounded faintly through the walls, and my temples were on fire. I lurched upright from the pallet and regretted it. Nausea rolled over me.

I hadn’t felt council sickness since my last year at the Children’s Palace, during an outbreak of pox. The testmakers had quarantined Dayo’s council, forcing us to sleep in separate rooms. Even Dayo had been required to stay away, because even though the Ray protected him from illness, he could still spread it.

As it happened, none of us had the pox … but we might as well have, since council sickness felt several times worse. Through the fog of my headache, I noticed that my hand throbbed, swollen where I had twisted my seal ring.

My heart skipped—another person was in the room. Above me stood a girl in a leather vest and patched trousers, with tan cheeks and stony brown eyes. Patterns shimmered faintly on her skin. No longer blue, as they had been nearly a year ago, but deep violet.

“Ye Eun,” I breathed. “You’re alive. You made it out. Of course you did; you’re brave and strong, but Am’s Story, I worried about you so much …”

I reached to embrace her. She caught my arrow-wounded arm with a small, firm hand.

“I have to clean this,” Ye Eun said. Her face was a cold mask. “You could lose the arm if it gets infected. It happened to one of the younger boys.”

She clutched a rag that reeked of astringent herbs, and shifted a bundle strapped to her back: a tuft-haired infant Redemptor, who babbled against her shoulder.

“Ye Eun … don’t you remember me?” I asked. “We met at the temple in Ebujo. I—”

“Of course I remember you.” Her voice was toneless, and her gaze was full of ghosts. “You’re the one who was supposed to keep me safe.”

My belly turned to stone. “I’m sorry. I tried—”

“We don’t need you, you know,” she said. “I’ll save the others, just like I saved myself.” The baby cooed and nestled into her back. More blue-marked faces, ranging from toddlers to older children, peeked into the room from behind Ye Eun’s legs. Except for Ye Eun, none of them looked older than ten.

“Where are we?” I asked. “Where’s Woo In?”

“You mean the Traitor Prince?” Ye Eun shrugged. “He’s checking the rabbit traps. He said to feed you, and to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself. I only checked your hands and arms.”

I glanced down. Dried blood crusted at the base of my finger, where I had twisted my ring last night.

“I have to clean your wound and watch you eat,” she said, and took my hand impatiently. Her small, deft fingers swabbed my wounds and wrapped them in linen. A bowl of gray porridge steamed by my pallet, as well as a bucket and washcloth. As I washed and ate, Ye Eun peered at me more closely and huffed.

“You’re already infected, aren’t you? Now Traitor Prince will be angry, and I’ll have to hike down to the village for garlic. I’m already behind getting the others ready for the Underworld—”

“It’s not infection,” I cut in, wincing at the cotton sensation in my throat. “It’s council sickness.”

Ye Eun’s scowl remained. “Then you should have brought someone. You’re like Traitor Prince. He gets fevers when he comes without Kathleen, or one of the others.”

“Well, he won’t get fevers anymore,” I snapped, making the girl jump. I swallowed and winced. “I’m sorry. I just meant … Woo In isn’t part of a council anymore. The Lady is dead. And I’m his prisoner.” I smiled weakly. “So I wasn’t allowed to bring a sibling.”

“If you’re a prisoner, we all are,” she retorted. “This is Sagimsan: the mountain where Redemptor babies are left. Sometimes it’s easier to abandon us at birth instead of waiting till we’re ten. Traitor Prince flies over the mountain and brings the babies here.”

“Oh.” My heart twinged at the tiny curious faces in the doorframe. “Why do you call Woo In a traitor?”

Ye Eun shrugged. “All Songlanders do. After he promised his soul to The Lady, and Crown Princess Min Ja disowned him. But I don’t really care if he is a traitor. He’s good to us.” She paused. “I didn’t think I’d come back to Sagimsan. After I escaped the Underworld, I thought I’d find my parents. They gave me to the mountain, but—I thought maybe—they might want me back.” She smiled dimly. “They didn’t. No one wants a girl who’s walked through hell and back. So my emi-ehran led me back here. I help make the Redemptors strong. I teach them how to survive, like I did, so they’re ready when it’s time. It’s not always enough. But it’s better than waiting for people in capes.”

I winced, remembering how reverently she had eyed my wax-dyed cape at the temple banquet.

“You should eat your breakfast,” said Ye Eun. She watched my spoon, and I noticed for the first time how her cheekbones jutted, with no fat to soften them. “Traitor Prince will be back soon.”

I held out the steaming bowl. “You finish it.”

She swallowed, then shook her head. “If you don’t want it, we should give it to Ae Ri.” She turned, presenting her back to me. “Help me untie her.”

I froze, terrified. I’d never held a baby for more than a few seconds, when peasants thrust them into my arms on goodwill campaigns. I had kissed the infants, as expected, and returned them as soon as possible.

“She’s hungry,” Ye Eun insisted. “Don’t worry, she’s clean.”

I huffed, gripped the baby’s underarms, and wriggled her from the harness. She was alarmingly light, even wrapped in a homespun shift and loincloth. Her soft curly hair smelled of hay and milk, and curiously, her skin was several shades darker than Ye Eun’s.

I squinted. “Is Ae Ri …”

“An isoken?” Ye Eun shrugged. “Maybe. There are illegal camps on the border, where Songlander merchants trade with Aritsar. That’s how I learned to speak Arit: buying supplies there for the refuge. It’s rare, but I’ve heard of merchants taking Arits as lovers.” She looked askance at Ae Ri. “Maybe that’s where she came from.”

The baby squirmed in the crook of my arm as Ye Eun fed her, smacking up the porridge with pink, wet lips. Then she clutched the front of my gown and gurgled a greeting.

“Hello,” I said uncertainly.

Ae Ri cooed, and examined me with brave, dark eyes set in a lattice of blue birthmarks. My heart swelled with a familiarity I couldn’t explain. Suddenly, I was enraged.