Fannie picked up speed along the new wall that led to the Thunder River Gates. Father and Kenu had fashioned silver-mesh that gave off an iridescent light, the purple-green of sea sparkle. The latticework of moonbeam and crossroads Vévés reminded Awa of Djola’s tattoos. When he called up Dream Gates, this would be fortress-conjure that held her spirit and protected everyone she loved. Awa trailed her fingers over cold latticework. Shocks made her heart skip a few beats.

“It tingles.” Meera brushed fingers along the chilly surface. “Like being startled in the night or turning the corner onto a surprise.”

The oasis garden was the final stop before the River Gates. They slid off tired horses and walked down a winding path. The trees were brooding columns turning bitter against creatures nibbling at shoots and leaves. Across the river, spark lights in the shape of raintree blossoms lit up citadel windows—Azizi’s libations to Samina, queen of misrule. Awa sang with rustling branches and let her bones catch the rhythm of a hundred hundred roots thrumming under her feet. Meera slipped into the bushes with Rokiat. Bal disappeared with the clowns for last-minute preparations. Crows screeched at roving owls and Fannie munched sweetgrass. Awa took a brush from Djola’s conjure bag and combed burrs from her mane. She stroked the warhorse from withers to tail.

“Fannie, my heart, when I’m gone, you and Bibi take the herd, and Soot too, and run away, across Mama Zamba to sweetgrass fields and berry bushes, and no people riding you off to war.”

Fannie nickered, happy to hear this.

Djola appeared under a treehouse, leaning on Urzula’s cane. Lilot had put a fresh bandage on his foot. The crystal’s facets were filled with smoke. Mango clutched the hem of his cape in her trunk, flapped her ears, and cooled them both. “Council eats while they wait for you,” Djola murmured.

“I must return this to you.” Awa held out the conjure bag.

“It’s too heavy for me.” He pushed the bag gently against her chest. “You keep it.”

Awa used Elder discipline to remain calm. “If something should happen to me, I don’t want Hezram or one of them to get it.”

“Hezram could not carry such a bag.”

Insisting Djola take it would reveal her plan to be a willing sacrifice. Azizi and Council needed Djola to check Hezram. Mount Eidhou needed Kyrie to defend it against Ernold and greedy masters. Meera could take care of Mango, Rokiat, Fannie, and the horses. Bal and Soot would protect everyone. Awa, the best smoke-walker, was the right choice to power the Dream Gates. She’d have to give the bag to Kyrie or Bal. She’d never gotten to read through its countless treasures. Someone should.

“All goes as planned.” Djola stroked Fannie. Awa marveled at his faith. “What? You don’t believe me?”

“I don’t know what to think,” she whispered.