name, over and over, until at last I brushed his temples, plucking the memory of his comrade’s mangled body from his mind. He stilled, sighed, and fell fitfully asleep.
Sanjeet and I spent the night side by side on straw mats in the inn’s best room. The floor was packed dirt, strewn with fresh hay. More than once, I wanted to touch him. He twitched often, as if he wrestled with the same temptation. But our arms stayed by our sides, and I stared up at the wattle-and-daub ceiling, knowing we couldn’t go back.
The children who had kissed by the sea were gone. We were different people now, more jaded and honest. If I touched him that way again, I would be making a promise that I had no power to keep. How could I swear to love anyone when The Lady still held my puppet strings?
I turned away from Sanjeet so he wouldn’t see my features contort with anger. “It’s my story. Mine, you hear me?” I hissed at a woman only I could see. “And I’ll get it back. You’ll see.”
When we said our goodbyes to the Imperial Guard warriors the next morning, their faces shone with grave new respect. This time, they did not challenge us when we kept our destination secret and nodded when we insisted on going alone.
“If you had left the Bush without rescuing my warriors,” said Bunmi, “no one would have blamed you. You are Aritsar’s future. Your lives must be preserved. But you came back.” She squinted and locked her jaw, restraining tears. “I will never forget what you did, and neither will any of my comrades. The Imperial Guard shall always be loyal to Tarisai of Swana and Sanjeet of Dhyrma. For the first time in many moons … I smile for the future of Aritsar.”
As Sanjeet and I walked away, her last words rang strangely in my ears. For the first time in many moons. The Imperial Guard was more loyal to the empire than anyone. Why would a captain have doubts about Aritsar’s future?
A three-hour walk from the village, a bustling town guarded a lodestone port to Nyamba, the realm northeast of Oluwan. Sanjeet and I had planned the journey with a map the night before. Each lodestone could transport travelers to only one place. Nyamba was the opposite direction from where we needed to go, but from there, another port could take us directly to Swana. Going the wrong way via lodestone was faster than going the right way on mule or on foot.
“Names and reason for travel,” barked a scowling old man when we arrived at the port. The lodestone, a smooth bed of black rock ten men wide, was nestled in a copse of trees at the edge of town. A palisade fence surrounded the port, with openings on either side, flanked by guards. I could feel the power pulsing in the stone from several feet away. My stomach gurgled, anticipating the nausea. The last time I had taken a lodestone had been when my council moved to Yorua Keep. We had taken two days to recover, lying on our pallets and clutching our middles.
Sanjeet flashed our council seals at the guard, and the man’s eyes widened. “Your Anointed—”
“Keep your voice down,” muttered Sanjeet, and paid our fare.
“Of course, Anointed Honors. You’re free to cross … No. Wait.” The man peered at the lodestone’s surface, from which lines of ghostly black script began to rise. “Someone’s coming.”
With a thunderous crack, a cohort of imperial militia burst into view from thin air. “No time to waste,” the captain shouted to his comrades, stepping off the lodestone and shrugging off the nausea. He flashed his identification at the guards. “We may have captured the abomination, but her servants still lurk in the empire. They were last spotted not far from …” His voice trailed off as the cohort left the port, running in formation.
“Who knows what all that was about?” said the old man, smiling at us with nervous courtesy, then waving us on. “It’s safest if you hold hands,” he called after us.
I looked at Sanjeet askance, but he held out his calloused palm. I stared at our clasped hands as we stepped onto the lodestone. Warmth pulsed into my soles, and vibrations traveled up my legs, belly, and chest until my eardrums rang. We stepped again. The scene around us shimmered, and I could no longer see our hands. We continued to walk, blinded by a growing