did, except Enoba. Woo In can vouch for me.”
“You know where my son is?” breathed Hye Sun. “He is safe? Alive?”
I nodded. “He sent me.” I didn’t mention that I’d left him feverish and bleeding from an arrow wound.
“When it comes to the people he trusts, my brother has shown foolish judgment in the past,” Min Ja pointed out. “Why should we believe that your emperor was ignorant of the curse? And what does it matter if he was? The Arit throne is soaked in the blood of our children.” Her face was white with rage. I felt the prickle of what Woo In had called sowanhada in the air, and in one graceful movement, the princess summoned a wind that upended Enoba’s shield. It landed at my feet, its crimson contents splattered onto the dais. The abiku hissed, but Min Ja showed no fear. “Songland withdraws itself from the Redemptor Treaty.”
The abiku smiled, four identical sets of tiny pointed teeth, in mouths that unhinged at the jaw. “Then it is war you want,” they said. “A return of the Underworld above ground. A millennium of death, and disease, and the earth teeming with flood and fire. Very well. We accept.”
“No,” Dayo cried out. “No more war. We’ll make a new treaty, one that protects Songland.” He bowed deeply to Hye Sun, who inclined her head. Min Ja only crossed her arms. “We’ll make new terms for the Redemptor Treaty,” Dayo continued. “The abiku will continue refraining from attacks on the continent, including Songland. However—to make up for the unfair selections of the past—the next generations of Redemptors will be born in Aritsar.”
I cringed, anticipating what happened next. Delegates and courtiers from every Arit realm yelled and shook their fists, protests deafening as they threatened to rush the dais.
“Please,” Dayo breathed. “It’s only fair—” But the din drowned him out, and he watched in a panic as the crowd grew in unrest. Below us, the abiku’s grins broadened.
My council siblings fell in place to defend the throne. Sanjeet leapt on the dais, unsheathing his scimitars, barking orders to the Imperial Guard.
Over them all I announced, “No more children will be sent to the Underworld.”
The hall quieted. I planted myself on the largest dais echo-stone so my words carried. Then I spoke slowly to hide the shaking in my voice. “Instead of innocent children,” I told the abiku, “I offer you a true prize. A flavor you have never tasted, blood previously forbidden you. In exchange for permanent peace—for a treaty requiring no renewal and no more wars—I offer you the soul of a Raybearer.” I swallowed hard. “I offer the soul of an empress.”
“No,” Sanjeet rasped.
I can walk through fire, I Ray-spoke to all my siblings. Dayo’s face contorted as he remembered my words from so many years ago, when I had carried him from the burning Children’s Palace. All you have to do is trust me.
“Empress?” scoffed Min Ja. “There has been no empress since Aiyetoro.”
“And I bear her mask,” I said, and invoked the ancient title: “Obabirin.” The mask’s eyes flashed, and the hall took a collective breath, roiling with whispers. “I am Tarisai Kunleo, niece of the late emperor. The priests of Am may examine my blood,” I went on, “and confirm that it flows with the Ray. But these are the only witnesses who matter.” I pointed to the abiku and growled, “You know what I am, spirits. Do you accept my offer?”
For the first time, the abiku shifted, features piqued with greed. They whispered among themselves, and then fixed their pink eyes on my face. “What you are,” they purred, “is the bearer of a weak Ray. Until your blood runs with the power of all twelve Arit realms, you would be a paltry prize for the Underworld.”
“You require that I have a council?” My pulse pounded with hope. I could simply share a council with Dayo. My council siblings already loved me; they would have no trouble receiving my Ray alongside Dayo’s. “Done,” I said.
The abiku smirked. “Not just any council, Obabirin. We require potent realm blood. To be an acceptable Empress Redemptor, you must anoint the twelve rulers of Aritsar as your council.”
Around me, the realm rulers began to cluck in protest. My heart sank. How was I supposed to convince twelve rulers to trust me? More than that, they would have to love me, or else the Ray wouldn’t work.
But I set my jaw and said, “Done. But while I’m assembling my