Julius and Bri pop a squat on the ground, and Rojala sits beside them. The Seer is folded up next to a tree in the distance. Her eyes are closed, but I know she’s listening. I look for jade-dotted armor one more time but don’t spot any. Jhamal must be with Kai, too. Julius gives me a head nod to begin, and I dig out words I should have found a long time ago.

“Listen, I don’t have all the answers and I can’t pretend to.” Hundreds of eyes stare back at me between the trees. Macazi, Ghizoni, Beerchi. People on this island who have watched their understanding of the world crack and crumble these past several weeks. I have to show them I can put it back together, rightly, stone upon stone.

I take a deep breath and keep going. “I-I’d hoped raising the Ancestors was the way to go, that they could fix this. And in some ways they helped. We know your magic can be restored, that we have to return the stolen onyx on the traitors’ wrists to the earth. But it didn’t fix everything. It’s not what I’d envisioned would happen.” I huff a breath and steady my feet. “We can’t fight each other anymore. I’ve been saying that, but until we have a leader that unifies us, we’ll continue to crack from the inside. I get that now. And we really need to turn our eyes outward—to them.”

I point east, toward the Chancellor’s tower, an ivory emblem in the distance. “The true enemy. So I’m asking you now to trust me. Not because I have all the answers. Not because I do everything right. But because I’m not giving up on this fight. And I have a pretty good plan this time, I think.” I hope. “But I can’t finish it without you, Bati, your wisdom. And you, Rojala, your precision with a blade. And you Bri, your gadgets. All of you. My people. My family.” Jhamal’s name hangs on my tongue and somewhere inside me pangs with sadness. “We rise from the ashes together.”

I blow out a big breath.

“So, I ask you to swear your loyalty to me and I promise you, I’ll make a way out of this for us or die trying. If you would have me… I humbly ask for the honor of serving as your Queen.”

Leaves rustle under Bri, Julius, Rojala, and a few others who plant on their knees in fealty, bowing their heads. Others follow, nearly all the Macazi, Joshi flicking a tear from his cheek. The Ghizoni kneel in waves and a flutter cinches in my chest. I stand a little straighter. But the Beerchi still stand. Shaun unfolds then refolds his arms.

I swallow. “This does not have to come to blows, Shaun, please.”