creases beneath each eye.
I asked, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“You’re tired, sunshine girl,” he sighed into my turban. His embrace was sudden, catching the air in my throat. “I’m sorry for taking you so far. The sun’s too high for walking. But it’s cool in that cave. We could rest for a while. Sleep.” He pulled back and smiled, his tone gently suggestive. “Or not.”
“I—” I shook my head, as if to clear it. “I don’t understand.”
“What happened last night wasn’t your fault.” His lips brushed my forehead. “I see that now. Your mother forced you to hurt Dayo; you had no say in it. I’m sorry for saying those cruel things. You’re nothing like The Lady.”
“Nothing you said was wrong,” I faltered. “I am The Lady’s daughter. And I chose to join the council. Even though I knew it would put Dayo in danger—”
“It wasn’t your fault,” he insisted. Slowly, my muscles relaxed. He unwound the turban of my disguise, letting my braids spill heavily over my back as his fingers grazed my neck. “You did nothing wrong. There is no reason to feel guilty.”
It was more soothing than his lullaby. More potent than any of Kirah’s chants. It was all I needed to feel blameless and beloved, and everything I wanted to hear.
“Tarisai,” said Sanjeet. “Come into the cave.”
My blood cooled. In a daze, I extracted myself from his arms and backed away.
“What’s wrong?” Sanjeet’s face was a perfect portrait of concern. “I need you, Tar. I trust you more than anyone. I never should have doubted—”
“Stop,” I rasped.
“Tar? I don’t understand.”
“Sanjeet of Dhyrma would never lie to make me feel better.” I snapped a slim branch from a tree and brandished it in front of me. “What are you?”
The person froze. Then he—it—smiled with Sanjeet’s face. The Bush-spirit distorted, body rippling as it melted into acrid fog that billowed around me. I couldn’t move—couldn’t see. Ghostly laughter shook the corkwood trees.
My feet began to advance, laboriously, as though a powerful weight pressed behind each heel. I realized with horror that I was heading toward the cave. I was sure it led to the Underworld, or some horrible limbo like it. If I entered, would I become like it? A malicious Bush-spirit, trapped for all eternity?
I pulled against the weight, fighting, thrusting myself in the other direction. For a moment, it worked. But I was aimless; the fog muddled all direction. Before long that push, push, push toward the cave returned. I threw myself again. I was tiring. I would never keep this up for long, and then the only thing left would be to—
“Give in,” the spirit murmured, still using Sanjeet’s voice. “You would be safer with us. Dayo would be safer. Don’t be selfish, killer-girl.”
“Shut up,” I growled. But already my muscles were weakening. My feet began their advance again. One step. Two. Three …
And then a new voice echoed from the ground, vibrating in my limbs, as though it had traveled through thick layers of dust and leather. But it wasn’t someone. It was Aiyetoro’s drum, strapped to my back, pounding of its own accord: pum-bow, pum-bow, gigin, go-dun-go-dun-bow.
The meaning of each pitch came together in my mind: Stone. Stone. Vine-covered stone.
I peered wildly through the mist. There, beyond two trees, a rock lay covered in vines … and in its shadow, a kiriwi bush.
I lurched for it, scaling the ground as the Bush-spirit howled, doubling its efforts. But the closer I got to the kiriwi, the thinner the fog became. I saw through illusions everywhere—trees grew transparent, and a path previously concealed sprung into view. The kiriwi bush was one of many, dotting the way I had lost earlier. When I reached the path, the pull on my limbs melted away. I looked back. The circle of trees and Bush-spirit were gone … but the cave remained. That ominous place had not been an illusion.
I shivered in a heap on the ground, wanting to vomit. But I couldn’t rest. Not now.
“Sanjeet,” I whispered. “Where are you?”
I WOULD NOT DISOBEY CAPTAIN BUNMI AGAIN.
Stay by the kiriwi. I walked so close to the fragrant bushes, their branches scraped my sore legs. The Bush had transported me away from the border the moment I left the path. Sanjeet—the real Sanjeet—must have watched me disappear. Had he made it through to the other side?
At least I didn’t have to worry about human adversaries. Most bandits and thieves valued their lives too dearly to risk the