“B-but I mean, sure, let’s try it,” she says.

“I agree, Bati is our best option for Elder DNA,” Zora says. “But the enemy hair?”

“Sneaking into the Chancellor’s tower to steal a hair from his head has gotta be, like, plan Z.”

“Shaun,” Zora says with scowl. “Taking the crown by force, breaking the agreement to conduct Kowana Yechi when everyone is back together.” Her jaw flinches. “He’s made himself an enemy of us all now.”

She’s right.

“A hair from Shaun sounds only moderately easier,” Bri says, tapping her lips, probably literally calculating the difference in risk.

“It’s our only shot,” I say. “We’ve got to find Bati and catch Shaun off guard.” I turn to Bri. “The Seer said to combine them on the Ancestors’ grave and chant at High Moon.” I point to Yiyo in the distance. It’s a crumbled chunk in a bed of foliage. The taller trees rise high, knobby and twisty, unburnt. But I remember smoke rising. I remember… my failure. “Those were the only other steps. Bri, is there any other prep work a potion needs?”

“Nope.”

A sea of eyes stare back at me. There’s so many of us… what I have to do needles at me. I don’t like the idea of splitting up, but I don’t see another way. I’m responsible for them now, temporarily, but still.

“I’ll get the ingredients. And since we don’t know how hostile things might be, it’s probably best the Macazi wait at the Ancestors’ burial site in the forest outside Yiyo. I don’t think taking you to meet our people, announcing this new alliance right now, is the way to go.”

“I agree,” Zora says.

“That’s a hike,” Bri says. “We’re all the way in the City. But Julius and I should be able to wait at the grave site in the brush, well hidden. It’s good cover. Good idea.”

“Julius stays with me. But, yes, the Macazi can camp there until I get what we need and come back.” I bite my lip. “I’d transport us there, but there’s so many of us.”

“Let me take the Macazi,” Zora says. “They could run into trouble.” Her eyes dart to Bri. “You go with Jelani. It’s safer.”

“I can show you a route that is fairly concealed,” Grag says, joining the huddle, and I can feel something I’m too scared to believe is real blossoming in my chest, the same thing I saw in the little girl’s eyes: hope. Maybe unity isn’t a foolish dream.

“That’s big,” I say to Zora. “Thank you.”

“We’re in this together, saisa.”

Saisa… sister.

“We should move soon,” Grag says.