“Your envy serves you ill, Jata,” said the mansa. “Go out and look again. Find him.”

The nephew’s eyes flared with anger, but he made no retort. Instead, he tramped out.

The mansa gestured toward my sword. “However curious I am about you, Catherine Barahal, I will order my soldiers to kill you and your companions if you cannot bring me Andevai.”

Rory’s lips curled back. Bee took a step toward me.

I was not a fool. I lowered my blade. “Andevai is in the spirit world. Perhaps with your help, I can get him back.”

The mansa laughed, but the djeli did not.

With a frown, the mansa reconsidered. “Bakary, is she telling the truth?”

“A mirror is the water that allows me to look onto the other side, Mansa,” said the old man. “It should be possible to discover if she lies or speaks truth. Especially since the mirror in this house is the mirror through which their marriage was chained.”

I had been racing down one path, thinking I might convince the mansa to convey us to Haranwy. Like a noose at my throat, the djeli’s words yanked me to a halt.

“What do you mean, Honored One, that a mirror is the water?” I asked.

“It is not solid, like stone, and yet not lacking substance, like air. Therefore, it is water, for we djeliw can see through it to the spirit world which lies both beneath and above us.”

I caught Bee’s gaze with my own, looked down at the packs, and back up to her. Her brow wrinkled as she grasped and considered my unspoken plan. I was playing a very deep game of batey, about to try a hit whose arc would pass right over every person near me with but a small chance of reaching the stone eye that was the goal.

Upstairs, the front door opened and closed. Footsteps approached.

A soldier appeared at the kitchen door. “Mansa! The legate has arrived.”

With a sucked-in hiss, Bee closed her hands into fists. We managed to grab the packs before soldiers herded us up the stairs after the mansa. The chest, with most of Vai’s dash jackets, had to be left behind, but fortunately no one seemed to notice that my sword was still unsheathed. I wondered if they could see the blade now that the mansa’s magic had faded.

In the entry hall the mansa greeted Amadou Barry and Lord Marius, speaking with his own voice to equals. “It is good you came quickly. I have momentous news. I received word this morning that General Camjiata has landed at Gadir.”

Bee and I glanced at each other as Lord Marius exclaimed, “At Gadir! He has returned to Iberia! That is the news we feared most!”

Amadou Barry marked us as we climbed into view. His red-and-gold half-cape glistened with raindrops, and made him look quite dashing. “Beatrice! I knew you would return to me!”