Shaun shoves the blade away; its blunt side slams into Bati. He stumbles backward into me. Zora swipes with the blunt end of her stick. Kai ducks when Zora strikes and Zora blocks as Shaun does. It’s a dance, one Zora and Kai have practiced. One Shaun isn’t prepared for.

Kai’s next blow lands and his face is bloody. Her girls hiss in delight. Shaun’s alone and I remember what Jhamal says about the Beerchi. If he can’t hold his own, one of his tribe mates will take his place. I chew my lip, waiting, hoping, wishing someone would jump in and stop this. But the Beerchi stand around arms folded, watching how he handles it. He pummels toward Kai in brute strength. I can’t stand and watch this anymore.

“I said, stop!” Magic shoots like daggers from my hands, my arms warm all over, pinning Shaun and Kai back from each other. Veins bulge in Shaun’s corded throat as he huffs. Kai is more stoic, but the speed of her chest rising and falling says she’s anything but calm.

“We can’t fight like this!”

Bati pulls himself up. “Jelani is right. It is beyond time. We will flounder without proper leadership. Get to your rooms. Make your preparations! Kowana Yechi at High Moon.”

Kowana, what?

Everyone stands around, shock written into their faces in lines.

“Now!” Bati yells, and people scatter. Kai cuts a glance at me before leaving. A look that could kill. The same one she gave Jhamal.

CHAPTER TEN

KOWANA YECHI IS THE ritual the Ancestors used to nominate a tribe leader from one of the clans, or at least that’s how Jhamal had explained it. They haven’t done one since fleeing into Yiyo. The crowd filters down the thin corridors to where I’d guess the sleeping quarters are. The light from the fissures has dimmed. But it’s a long way until High Moon. Jhamal snaps his armor around himself.

“They wouldn’t… no one in their right mind would think of me that way.”

“Tribe members have to be present for two years before they can vote or be nominated by their clan,” he says, sensing my paranoia.

My face flashes cold, grateful that the weight of the decision making won’t feel like it’s squarely on my shoulders anymore. I’ve proven in more ways than one I’m a fighter, not worthy of such responsibility.

“But you do bear the Ancestors’ magic. So you should be able to vote, at least.”

“Voting is important where I’m from. If I can chime in here, I want to.”

“I’ll talk to Bati. But I can’t imagine it wouldn’t go over fine.”

A Beerchi, a Yakanna, or a Gahlee will rule. This is good. “Electing a leader should help with unity,” I say.

“I agree.”