“After my mother died, I set out to find my father and confront him,” he said. “I vowed to become a man he could never ignore. That’s why I found that busker who gave me the elixir and killed him. Why I approached the then-underboss of Creije with his head as a trophy and earned my place in the ranks. Back then the underrealm was barely organized and poorly maintained, but I had vision. I saw the opportunity to be great and eventually I took charge of the magical trade and became the first ever Kingpin.”

He looked to Zekia.

“When the War of Ages broke out across the realms and the Crafters revolted, my eyes were open to the way the world should be,” Ashwood said. “But by then it was too late. Still, the Many Gods did grant me one favor. Can you guess what it was?”

He continued circling the table until he settled in front of Zekia again and placed a hand on her small shoulder.

“I met my father on the battlefield. I saw the Realm Doyen of Uskhanya, surrounded by death. It was a sign from the Many Gods that my path was true. And so I approached that man, under the light of a shadow moon, the magic of my Crafters embedded into me. I told him who I was. I watched his face change. And before he had the chance to speak, I gutted him.”

Zekia’s hand still itched from the apple, but she was too scared to move to scratch it.

“You see, leaders are born and family must sometimes be sacrificed for the greater good. You know that my vision for the realms will have Crafters take back the world from the weak. I will have magic be worshipped like the gift from the Many Gods that it is.”

He placed a hand on Zekia’s cheek and it was cold, cold, cold.

“I will keep our family safe, little warrior.”

Your family is with me, Wesley said. We’re still in Rishiya and we haven’t given up on you.

I don’t have a family, Zekia told him. I don’t have anything anymore.

Yes, you do, he said. You have me, kid.

Wesley had never referred to Zekia as family before, no matter how hard she tried and how good she was. If something had happened in Rishiya to change that, then Zekia felt very sad that she had not been there for it. She felt a little left out that half of her—the old, with Amja and Saxony and their father—was mixing with the new. With Wesley. All without her.

“You still believe in our future, don’t you?” Ashwood asked.

You never told me your name back when we first crawled into each other’s minds, Wesley said. I guess I never told you mine, either.