the inferno. We collapsed on the other side, rolling, then I seized his hand again and we lurched down the inky corridor. Gasping, coughing, retching, we stumbled at last through the Children’s Palace antechamber, where frenzied courtiers swarmed to claim us.
“His Imperial Highness—his skin, oh gods—the Storyteller will never forgive us—”
A low, throbbing voice chanted through the hubbub, and the voices gasped as the disfiguring burns across Dayo’s skin began to smooth and heal. The melodic chanting continued as Kirah and Sanjeet parted the crowd, Kirah’s hand outstretched as she sang, tears streaming down her face. Dayo’s marred skin knit itself together, leaving nothing but a raised pale scar along his jaw and collarbone.
“Don’t leave us again,” she said, touching his cheek. Then she turned and seized me into a hug. Sanjeet scooped up all three of us, crushing the air from our lungs, and we laughed until the army of fretting attendants broke us apart.
“Wait,” Dayo croaked, before the healers could whisk us away to the infirmary. “There’s something I have to do. Something … I have to ask.” He turned to me and grinned that impossibly bright smile.
I squirmed, feeling awkward as everyone stared at us. “You almost died, Dayo,” I muttered. “Go with the healers. Anything else can wait.”
“No, it can’t.” Dayo drew a chain from beneath his ruined shirt, and on the end dangled a gold-encrusted vial. “Do you love me now, Tarisai of Swana?”
My heart raced. “Dayo,” I whispered.
“Your mind connected with the Ray,” he said. “You passed the test. You heard me … saved me.” Shakily, he knelt on the marble floor and uncorked the vial of pelican oil. He smiled and said the scripted words so many emperors had before him: “Shall you be moon to the morning star? Are you willing, Tarisai of Swana? Do you accept my hand in councilhood?”
The room burst into excited murmurs. I blocked them out.
Say yes, screamed every cell in my body. Rule the world. Have a family. Think of Dayo. Think of Kirah, and Sanjeet, and the castle by the sea.
But I couldn’t. The Lady’s wish had been clear: The moment he anointed me, I would become a monster. My cursed hands … they would fly around his neck, here, in front of everyone, and they would never let go. I was not normal, try as I might. I was broken. And The Lady’s words were carved into my mind, a permanent scar, unless—
Unless they weren’t.
Slowly, my gaze found Sanjeet, who watched me anxiously among the whispering throng of candidates. I remembered how he had looked when we first met: haunted. Hunched with nightmares and shadows, the Prince’s Bear. But now his back was straight, and his brow was grim but clear. I had helped him. I had healed the scars on his mind. I had made him forget his story. Why couldn’t I do the same for myself?
Inhaling deeply, I dug my fingers into my temples and laid waste to my own memories.
I was an invader, kicking down the doors of my mind’s palace, and setting flame to every room. First I burned Kathleen and Woo In, letting their faces and voices smolder into hazy smoke. My mind fought back, desperate to fill in the new gaps. Who had brought me to Oluwan? A man and a woman. Or … had it been two women? I didn’t know. What had they talked about? The Lady—Hallows—a mission … The words turned rapidly to mush, like fallen mangoes decaying in dry season. I knew nothing of my journey to Oluwan, and the people who had brought me were ghosts. My head swam, but ruthlessly I pressed on.
Next room.
Now the flames engulfed Bhekina House, and Melu’s savannah, and the memory of Mother’s first two wishes. My body began to swelter and shake. Distantly, I heard Dayo and the other children murmur in concern. Someone brought a stool and I sat, Dayo kneeling before me worriedly.
“Just a moment,” I croaked. “I just—need a moment.”
Most of my memories were located in just a few areas of my mind, but Melu was all over, a virus in every vein, bending me to The Lady’s will. His spirit was living, reaching with difficulty from his savannah to speak into my mind.
Stop, he bellowed.
“No,” I rasped.
Stop! No good can come of this. You are half-ehru, and your destiny is—
NO, my mind roared back at him, and with a wave of snickering flames, Melu’s face and voice turned to ash. I knew him no