“Come,” Imeria announced to the awaiting crowd. “It’s time to return to the palace for a celebration feast.”

Gently, Luntok helped Laya to her feet. He made to lead her to the carriages, but she held him back. “Luntok,” she called breathily, as though flustered by the beauty of the cliffs, by the weight of their nascent union.

“What is it?” He looked at her worshipfully, lovingly, in spite of everything he had done.

But Laya finally understood that to love a Kulaw was dangerous. And she would not yield herself to him.

Laya grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him close. He didn’t have time to react before she pressed a harsh kiss to his lips. He kissed her back hungrily. Foolish boy. She planted her palm flat against his chest, right above the wound where the dagger had pierced him.

Luntok looked down and, finally, noticed the broken chain between her wrists. His eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to yell⁠—but not fast enough.

“Goodbye, Husband,” she sneered and raised her other palm to the sky, then heaved him back with a jet of wind. Luntok flew high above the heads of the datus and the Kulaw guards. He crashed to the ground several feet away, skidding to a stop near the carriage path with a groan.

Imeria whipped around, nostrils flaring. She threw her hand in Laya’s direction. “You stupid bitch!”

Roughly, Laya shoved Eti behind her. She closed her eyes, readying herself for the inevitable onslaught of pain, when the ground beneath their feet rumbled with tremendous intensity. Laya would have fallen had Eti not grabbed her arm and jerked her upright.

Over her shoulder, Maiza cried out, “Hara Duja. By the gods!”

Barreling down the path on a great floating slab of earth was the queen. She wasn’t alone. Hari Aki and Bulan stood beside her. Laya counted about a hundred warriors at their flanks, including the towering figure of General Ojas.

“Ariel and I,” Eti whispered excitedly, “we got them all out. And then we⁠—”

“The Orfelian?” Laya let out a startled laugh. “Really?”

Hara Duja released the earth she had been wielding. It sank down, shuddering, onto the flat face of the Black Salt Cliffs. Inches away, Luntok had only just begun to come to his senses.

“Imeria,” Duja cried. A gale from the coast swept over the cliffs, whipping back her wild hair. She stalked toward the other woman. The Kulaw warriors clustered behind Imeria, their hands poised on the hilts of their weapons.

If Imeria was afraid, she didn’t dare falter. “You cannot defeat me now, Duja. The ceremony is finished, and I have double your men.”