to do that here? The Kunleo boy is miles, leagues away.”
I glared. “You know I refuse to hurt him.”
He turned away. “As long as you keep running from him, you will always be The Lady’s plaything. And I will always be her caged bird.”
My hands clenched into fists. Sanjeet, who stared up at the ehru with horror and wonder, placed a restraining hand on my arm. “Tar.”
I had heard once that alagbatos were difficult to persuade. They were wary of sharing secrets with mortals, even in the direst of circumstances. But I had seen deep into Melu’s gold-flecked eyes, gazing at a spark identical to one in myself. Melu had given me his pride: a trait as old as the Swana sky, and as deeply rooted as the grasslands.
“Are you telling me,” I said coolly, “that the mighty, all-knowing guardian of Swana has no idea how to free himself?” Sanjeet’s grasp tightened, but I shook him off and stalked after Melu, refusing to let the ehru turn his back on me. The sunstone warmed on my chest. “Are you telling me that hurting an innocent person—killing Dayo—is the only way for an alagbato to be free of a human’s whim?”
Melu stiffened.
“You’re too strong to let a mortal decide your fate,” I told him. “And you sure as hell aren’t going to decide mine.”
Sanjeet swore and fumbled for his weapon halter as Melu began to glow, radiating blue heat like a smoldering coal. The ehru hovered closer, closer, bending down until his shimmering face was level with mine.
Then he smiled, giving a deep-throated chuckle.
“Put away your sword, Dhyrma boy,” the ehru said. “My daughter has nothing to fear from me.” He touched my brow with a long, slender finger. “You were well-named, Behold-What-is-Coming.”
“Then tell me,” I demanded. “How do I break The Lady’s hold on me?”
Melu considered. “Only one thing is more powerful than a wish, and that is a purpose.”
“You’ll have to be more specific than that.”
Melu’s wings stirred with agitation, as if he struggled for the right words. “Every creature has a purpose. A place in a grand story, a tale as old and pure as life, and stronger than any mortal’s wish. To diverge from the path your mother has set, you must find your place in that grand story. Otherwise, The Lady will decide your place for you. That is all I know.” Melu paused, looking ashamed. “Killing the Kunleo boy was a simpler solution, and that is why I urged you to do it. But I see now that your fate will never be simple, and if you are ever to find your purpose, then you must know who you really are. You must know who The Lady is.”
My pulse quickened. “Tell me everything.”
Melu rose again, ascending until he hovered over the smooth amber pool. “I will tell you, and show you.” The pool’s surface rippled, and from its depths a young face appeared.
It was Dayo. No—a boy who looked like him, playing with wooden spears in the Children’s Palace. The pool rippled again, showing a council woman who had just given birth, cradling a baby girl. A barrage of moving pictures illustrated Melu’s words as he spoke.
“An emperor sires many children in his lifetime. But you only ever hear of one: the Raybearer. Any other heirs are considered irrelevant. As a result, Kunleo daughters—and Rayless sons—are born without fanfare, sent away after weaning, adopted by nobles who raise them away from court.
“By custom, Kunleo girls are not christened. But when a daughter was born to Olugbade’s father, the young crown prince took a liking to her. Prince Olugbade’s sister was so beautiful, clever, and precocious, he gave her a nickname: The Lady.”
Cold washed through my veins and froze, rooting me in place. I shook my head, slowly, and did not stop shaking it until the story was done.
“The Lady worshipped her older brother. At night she would steal away from her nursery to Olugbade’s bed, lisping his name. The prince was flattered. Breaking centuries of custom, he brought The Lady to the Children’s Palace, where he kept her as his pet. For many moons, Olugbade showered The Lady with trinkets. He taught her at his knee, and for as long as The Lady was young and ignorant, Olugbade loved her.
“But one day, The Lady began to interrupt Olugbade’s lectures. She started to talk circles around him in history and philosophy, stumping him with riddles and beating him at chess. Olugbade had suffered from a stutter