AND WE WASHED THE BLOOD from our clothes.
Dayo rested, feverish and delirious, in one of the keep’s rarely used bedrooms. “He was sleepwalking,” Kirah told our council siblings. “He took a fall.”
The keep servants fussed, bringing tea and poultices from the kitchens. Thaddace and Mbali did not send word to the emperor, because no one was afraid that Dayo would die. Raybearers were immune, after all, to everything.
Everything except me.
Kirah prevented servants from fetching healers from the capital. “We have it all under control,” she told them, smiling a little too brightly. A bandage hid the stab wound on Dayo’s side, which could not yet pass as a bruise from an innocent tumble.
I knew Kirah and Dayo would keep my secret, though Sanjeet was unpredictable. If the rest of my council siblings found out what I had done, I would lose everything. The council would side against me, and Kirah and Dayo would join them. They would have no choice.
I stayed far away from Dayo’s sleeping body, memorizing the silhouettes of my council brothers and sisters as they huddled together, lighting incense to Am for Dayo’s recovery. Without seeing them, I could summon their voices, their tics and mannerisms. Kameron’s tongue, lolling thoughtfully in his cheek. Ai Ling’s jaded, strident laughter. Umansa’s sleepy smile. Thérèse’s pale eyebrows, furrowed in meditation.
Why do you hate them so much, Mother? How could you take away the person they love most?
Melu was my only hope. But even if he broke my ehru curse, I might never earn my council’s trust back. Perhaps it was best if I never returned.
Unable to say goodbye, I stole away to my chamber. Clothes lay in piles from last evening, when my only anxiety had been impressing Sanjeet on Nu’ina Eve. None of my possessions seemed appropriate to pack for the journey ahead: rainbow wax-dyed wrappers, jeweled council regalia, High Judge case scrolls. I especially avoided touching the piles of handmade gifts from villagers. Every item held a story of sweat and sacrifice, of love I did not deserve. Biting my lip, I remembered the last gift I received.
“I’m sorry, Amah,” I whispered, and slipped the cowrie shell anklet from my foot.
The pallet in my chamber was dusty from neglect, since our council always slept together in the banquet hall. But I had not rested for two days, and sank gratefully onto the mudcloth blankets. The coarse cotton, dyed with earth-toned patterns of brown, black, and white, chafed my face. I counted them feverishly until sleep fell like a shadow. When I woke, I was still clutching the anklet.
“Time to go,” Sanjeet said. He stood in my doorframe and tossed a pile of leathery items on the floor. “Get dressed.”
I rubbed my stiff face and squinted at the pile. “Imperial Guard uniforms?” Sanjeet already wore the dark draping pants and protective padding strapped across his bare chest and arms. An oval shield leaned beside him in the doorway. I frowned. “Wouldn’t peasant clothes draw less attention?”
“Imperial Guard warriors patrol the valley, changing shifts every three hours. If The Lady is watching the keep, Guard uniforms allow us to leave undetected. We must conceal your absence from Yorua for as long as possible. If The Lady knows her weapon has been compromised, she may try to reclaim it.”
“Weapon,” I repeated. “Is that my name now?”
“It has always been your name,” he said, and shut the door flap.
I changed into the black-red-and-gold armor. I had already cried every tear my body could spare, and so my face was dry when I looked in the mirror. A dark silk turban bound my telltale yarn braids. A dust mask would conceal the lower half of my face, helping me blend in with the guards leaving and entering the keep. I strapped a pack of supplies to my back, and as an afterthought, added Aiyetoro’s drum.
I had barely touched the empress’s artifact since Woo In and Kathleen had brought it to me in the temple. They had thought it would restore my memories; perhaps it held a clue to breaking my curse as well.
When I was finished, I presented myself to Sanjeet, holding out my arms like a spear dummy. “Search me,” I said. He balked. I reminded him coolly, “I’m a weapon, remember? If you’re traveling alone with me, you’d better make sure I’m not armed.”
He paused, and then felt down my arms, breast, and thighs. Surgical and efficient. Never meeting my gaze. “Clean,” he grunted.
“Good. Now you can be sure I won’t