Urzula looked away from him to the water. “I hear of your adventures at sea.”

“I hear Ernold and Money plotted against Nuar, Samina, and my children.”

“Lilot says Council talk is of pirate raids—barbarian cities burn in acid-conjure and scoundrels steal Zamanzi children for brothels, mines, and warships.” She blamed Djola for Pezarrat’s breaches.

“Zamanzi villagers are easy prey with their warriors out raiding Empire caravans.”

Urzula gritted her teeth. “So much unrest since you left my husband’s side.”

Djola stepped between her and the sea. “He banished me.”

“The masters wanted to kill you. Should Zizi have let them?”

“You’re my wife’s friend. Have you seen her?”

“I travel the coast from the Golden Gulf to the Zamanzi north, trying to hold the peace against renegades.” She lit a spark torch. “Lilot, my cook, watches over Azizi while I’m gone. Rebels run riot and Council plays into their hands.” Lilot was a more powerful witch than Urzula. Griots claimed they were lovers, and Lilot was willing to do anything for her queen. “I’m here visiting my children. They study at the library.”

“Did you see my children before you left?” Djola lay on the ground at her feet, his face in gravel. “Please. Tell me.”

“They came to Arkhys City a while ago. Why do such a thing?” Urzula sighed. “I hear rumors of a trial. They live still.”

“Alive, but in the hands of my enemies.” He struggled up.

“Azizi’s masters say you’re a rogue pirate who deserves worse than death.”

“My family suffers”—his voice cracked—“in my place.”

“Azizi and the Master of Arms won’t let anyone hurt your family.”

“This is my hope.” He leaned close. “Perhaps you could—”

“Samina waits for you”—Urzula’s jaw was set, her dark eyes slits—“to finish your mission and rescue her and your children.” She took his hand. “What will you do?”

Djola snatched his hand away. “I’ll make my mind a fortress.”

“Iyalawo crossroads conjure. You could lose yourself.” Urzula sighed. “Do what you must do, but hurry.”

Djola raced off, arguing with Samina all the way down the mountain. Why take the children to their enemies, even searching for him? Nothing reasonable occurred to him. Spark torches glittered on the walkways—weapons and nightlights. He wanted to steal one, storm Council, and blast his enemies like a fire-breathing beast of legend. But men had burnt themselves up trying to wield stolen torches. “Zst!” Djola longed for a flask of seed and silk.

On a barge to the flagship, Orca chattered about stepping through a sky window, being touched by a demon, and seeing wonders no one had painted before: a bridge of stars and a great blue eye watching over the light. “In sky windows, you see what you imagine.”