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to scream.

Unlike Enebish, I have no doubt he would kill me—if he could.

“Do your worst, cousin,” I taunt him.

The shepherds yowl even louder. Some fall to their knees, begging for mercy.

“They’re your family?” Ivandar looks at me, completely flabbergasted.

But I keep my eyes on Serik, who deliberately raises his hands. I chuckle. I can’t help it. It’s such a ludicrous fantasy. So Serik. “Still clinging to hope?”

Columns of fire burst from Serik’s palms, snapping the tip of my nose. I stumble back and crash into Ivandar, who catches me. But I’m too horrified and confused to care.

“H-how—” I gawk at Serik.

It shouldn’t be possible. He’s far too old, not to mention too disagreeable, to have proven himself worthy of power. Yet the angry welt on my nose says otherwise.

I laugh even harder. Only now I’m laughing at myself—at the irony of life. The Kalima betrayed me, Serik is a Sun Stoker, and I’m traveling with the Zemyan prince.

The world has truly gone mad.

There’s nothing left to do but join in.

“Well, this is an interesting development.” I crack my knuckles one by one and stretch my head from side to side. Readying for the fight Serik and I have been spoiling for the better half of our lives.

“Stop, Ghoa.” Ivandar grabs my arm and hauls me back for a second time, and I swear on the memory of the Sky King, I’m going to kill him. Slowly.

“Remove your hand!” I growl.

“We didn’t come to fight!” he calls out to the group. “We’re just passing through! We need to reach the Kalima.”

“I’m sure you do,” Serik spits. “You don’t stand a chance against us without them. Not when we have three Kalima warriors.”

Three? I stop straining against Ivandar to squint at their sorry group. Who is the third?

“Varren! Cirina!” Enebish turns a slow circle in the middle of the street, calling for my warriors, as if they’re lying in wait behind the boarded-up homes and shops. “We know you’re here!”

“It’s honestly just the two of us,” I say.

The beginning of another piercing headache is tapping at my temples. Lacy frost edges my vision, and for a moment I consider freezing the entire street. That would simplify everything.

That would also be a terrible waste. Think of your reception at the rendezvous point if you arrive, not only with the Zemyan prince, but with Enebish and Serik. The Kalima will be forced to acknowledge you. No one in the empire will be able to refute your worthiness.

I drop my hands and take a deep breath. Patient. Calm. Whatever it takes. “I’m not hunting you, and I haven’t abandoned or betrayed my country by aligning with Zemya.”

“Then what is he doing here?” Enebish glares at Ivandar. “What are you both doing here?”

“We’ve formed a temporary truce to address a more pressing issue,” I say carefully.

“What could be more pressing than the Zemyans taking the entire empire?” a nameless shepherd calls from the back of Enebish’s sorry group. As if they’re part of this conversation and have any business addressing me.

“Tell your ‘followers’ to stay out of it,” I bark.

Ivandar’s fingers slide around my neck and squeeze. I nearly scream before I realize it’s an illusion. He releases his invisible grip, shoots me a warning look, and steps forward. “While your commander was imprisoned in Zemya, it was revealed, through her torture, that the generál supreme has ambitions far beyond Ashkar and the continent. We believe he’s attempting to infiltrate the land of the First Gods, as some sort of reckoning on behalf of Zemya—to strip the Kalima of their powers and restore our goddess to Her rightful home. Needless to say, the Lady of the Sky and Father Guzan will be in grave danger if he succeeds, so we’re trying to intercede. Kartok seems to think he needs Kalima warriors to access the gateway, so we are determined to reach the Kalima first. You must stand aside and let us pass.”

No one utters a word when Ivandar finishes. The way the entire group is gaping at him—at both of us—makes me wonder if he was actually speaking Zemyan, if all that time in his abhorrent country infected me more than I realized.

“You were imprisoned in Zemya?” Serik says at last, looking at me with a dramatically cocked brow. “How did they capture you? Where were your loyal minions?”

Of course he’s the first to respond, and of course that’s the detail he latches onto.

Enebish remains much more focused. “You honestly couldn’t concoct a more believable lie? Neither of you care about the Lady and Father! You don’t believe They exist”—she points at me, then asks Ivandar—“and shouldn’t you want Kartok to succeed in avenging Zemya?”

“I don’t have to believe in your gods to want revenge,” I say curtly. “Kartok tortured me for weeks. And he’s trying to seize my power.”

It’s near enough to the truth. I may not plan on thwarting Kartok by protecting their old gods, but if that’s what’ll convince Enebish and Serik to follow me to the Kalima, so I can reclaim my position, so be it.

Ivandar shoots me an irritated look, as if he expected me to press my face to the earth and grovel at their feet.

Which is precisely what he does.

He bows his fair head, presses his palms together at his chest, and kneels as if praying. Or pleading. As if my cousin and former sister outrank us both. “Just because I worship Zemya doesn’t mean I want to see the Lady and Father deposed. They created Zemya—They created everything. Surely there would be consequences if They perished. Please, don’t slow us any further by forcing us to engage with you.”

The shepherds murmur among themselves. I haven’t a clue if they’re believers like Enebish or if they’re loyal to the New Order, as the law decrees. And I suppose it doesn’t matter, now that the Sky King is gone. I try not to think about what it means, that a god on earth perished without consequence. Without a breath of

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