the part born of wishes and fire, calmed down as The Lady’s voice echoed in my ear.
When he anoints you as his own.
My shoulders sagged in relief. It wasn’t time yet. Something else had to happen before I could hurt this boy. Perhaps I could escape before it did.
“Dayo,” said Mbali, “this is Tarisai of Swana, your newest candidate. Tarisai, this is His Imperial Highness Ekundayo Kunleo of Oluwan, Crown Prince of Aritsar.” She added gently, without accusation, “You will be watched.”
Then she made to leave. I clutched at her, afraid to be left alone with this stranger. Afraid of what I might do to him.
Mbali chuckled, misunderstanding my fear. “He won’t bite, dear. Sometimes, I wonder if our Dayo has any teeth at all.” Fondly, she ruffled the boy’s tightly curled hair. “Have fun.” Then she slipped a key from her neck, unlocked a subtle door painted into the chamber wall, and slipped through without a sound. Strangely, Mbali’s gaze still pressed on me even after she had disappeared.
Ekundayo and I stared at each other. I was taller than him, though he drowned in robes of blue-gold wax-dyed cloth. He shifted from foot to foot, looking as awkward as I felt.
“Well,” he said. “Aren’t you going to try and touch me?”
I blinked. “Why would I?”
“The rest of them do. They all try to hug me or kiss my fingers and sandals. They say—” He shrugged. “They say they love me.”
“Well, I don’t love you.”
He cocked his head, aghast. “Not even a little?”
“Of course not.” He looked so heartbroken, I wanted to comfort him. “It’s just, I’ve never met you before,” I stammered.
“But everyone loves me. Though I guess they could be lying. Father thinks I trust people too much.” Ekundayo frowned, then brightened with comical speed. “Maybe you’re lying, Tarisai of Swana. Maybe you do love me after all.”
My mouth curved up. I couldn’t help it: Just like in the portrait, his broad, gap-toothed smile was infectious.
“I don’t have any secrets,” I said, and then a fist twisted my insides. I stepped away from him. “I should go. Your Imperial Highness—”
“My friends call me Dayo,” he said eagerly. “Or they will. When I have friends.”
In my backward shuffle I stumbled on the tasseled edge of a rug. Dayo caught my arm to steady me. I jerked away.
“Did I do something wrong again?” he asked.
“No. But people don’t usually touch me. They avoid it.”
“Why?”
Maybe if I scared him, he would stay away from me. “Because I’m a half-demon,” I whispered, wiggling my eyebrows for effect. “A spy. I can see everything—everything—you’ve ever done.”
Dayo’s gaze widened. “That’s amazing.”
That wasn’t right. He should have been frightened. No one liked having light cast on the shadows of their thoughts. Unless … Perhaps, they had no shadows to hide.
Why in Am’s name did The Lady want me to hurt him?
“Do it,” he said, taking both my hands and placing them on his face. “Do it, Tarisai. Try your spy trick on me.”
I paused, feeling shy. No one had ever been excited about my Hallow before. I ran a thumb over his cheek, then remembered what my hands had itched to do just minutes earlier.
My mouth went dry.
No, I protested silently. That girl wasn’t me. I didn’t have to hurt anyone. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.
My body relaxed, and I let Dayo’s memories flood my vision. Hundreds of small faces barreled toward mine, drowning me in presents and kisses, sickly sweet voices feverish with desire: I love you, Ekundayo … I’d die for you, Ekundayo … Pick me, Ekundayo … pickmepickmepickme—
Most of the children had frightened him. Every now and then, a child made him feel safe, but they almost always failed some strange test I didn’t understand. Then Mbali would take the child away, and Dayo would return to his hiding place behind the curtain, heaving quiet sobs that no one ever heard.
My feelings began to mix with Dayo’s and I grew dizzy, pulling out of his mind. Just like Dayo, I had also watched the people I liked walk away. I had wondered why no one ever stayed—why I was surrounded, yet always alone. I tried to drop my hands from Dayo’s face, but he held them there, eyes pouring wistfully into mine.
“You’re going to be another one, aren’t you?” the prince murmured. “A person I like. A person they take away.”
“Maybe I won’t,” I said. Though our minds had separated, a strange energy hung in the air between us, tethering me to him.