The memories flooded Duja’s mind with a vengeance. Her brother’s laughter. Imeria’s screams. Her nose stinging with the caustic scent of ash. Angry, black clouds billowing above the eastern wing, where Pangil’s fires continued to rage. Ear-piercing screams ringing out from inside the building, but all Duja could focus on was Pangil’s face.

His head lolled back into Imeria’s soot-streaked hands. He stared up at the smoke-filled sky, unseeing. Inky pools seeped out from his irises, blotting out the whites of his eyes.

Duja could barely bring herself to speak. “Imeria⁠—by the gods,” she had whispered.

“Duja. I can explain,” Imeria said, releasing Pangil as if his skin burned. She reached for her, but Duja recoiled from her touch.

“It can’t be,” she said in a strangled voice as she stared back at Imeria. Her gut knotted in dread. She squeezed her eyes shut, blinding herself to the horror. She wanted to scream. Not you, my heart. My dearest heart.

Duja blinked away the memories of ash and smoke. Imeria’s shadow disappeared. Laya was still sitting beside her on the bed. She clutched Duja’s hand, impatient for her reply.

“You wish to know what danger?” Duja’s voice cracked. The inside of her throat had gone dry. She shook her head once more as she pulled away from her daughter. “Let Luntok go. If you don’t, I fear you may not survive the consequences,” she said. The words came out harsher than she intended.

Laya’s eyes widened. “I don’t understand.”

“Let him go, Laya,” Duja repeated. “I don’t want to hear of this again.”

“No,” she said, her voice rising with the threat of oncoming sobs. “Mother, please⁠—”

“Enough of this.” With a heavy heart, Duja swept away from the bed. Laya’s sniffling followed her on her way out. Duja hadn’t told her what she wanted to hear. She could not bear to reveal the truth about Imeria’s powers, but how else could she make Laya understand? She paused, leaning against the doorway. “I promise you, Laya. You will find a better man⁠—a man worthy of your affection. Luntok is not him,” she added without turning around.

This time, Laya did not answer, but Duja could sense the storm inside her. Duja could say nothing to console her.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she eased the door shut behind her. It was too late to summon Maiza, even though every inch of Duja’s body protested at the slightest movement. Each step she took away from Laya was harder than the last. Her joints groaned as she made her way to her own chambers, where Hari Aki was in bed, reading. He set his book aside and looked at her with a somber expression.

“Well?” he asked.