“It’s all right,” I told them, shaking my smarting fingers. “That’s not a monster. It’s an emi-ehran, isn’t it? A soul guardian.” I smiled down at Ye Eun. “All Redemptors have them.”

“Only if we survive the Underworld,” Ye Eun corrected.

“Right.” I frowned awkwardly. “Didn’t you say your emi-ehran was a phoenix?”

“Hwanghu is a phoenix,” Ye Eun retorted, stroking the bird’s breast. “But their essence isn’t fire. It’s water. The language of my sowanhada.”

I should have guessed that a Songlander girl as strong as Ye Eun was gifted in elemental speaking. Could she command water, like Woo In and Min Ja controlled the wind?

“Don’t mind them,” Ye Eun told the shimmering creature. “I’m not in danger—right now anyway. Go play.”

Hwanghu nuzzled Ye Eun’s cheek, threw us all a haughty look, then flapped its wings and dispersed into crystalline droplets, vanishing through the bedroom window.

I glanced around with sudden caution, searching for a flash of lurid orange and black, or the tip of a massive striped paw. “Uh—is . . . Hyung here too?” I asked Woo In. “I never got to thank him—them—for my ride. After bringing me to the palace, your emi-ehran just . . . disappeared.”

“Sounds like Hyung,” Woo In replied with a wry smile. “My pet cat, as Kirah liked to call them, always comes when summoned. But even after all these years, I’ve never quite figured out where they vanish to. I imagine Hyung in a void, playing with some cosmic ball of string.”

“I suppose,” Zuri said presently, bowing to me, “you’ll want to know why your friends are here. Well . . . Woo In offered to bring Ye Eun to help you train for the Underworld. And I assumed the expense of their lodestone journey. It was no trouble, I assure you.”

Dayo cocked his head in confusion. “That’s very kind of you, King Zuri. But why does Tar need to train for the Underworld? After all—once she’s anointed her council—she’ll be immune to all thirteen deaths except old age. It may be . . . difficult for her to find her way back from the Breach. But she’ll be fine,” he insisted, nervously. “I know she will.”

“Except,” Ye Eun said, crossing her arms, “there are more than thirteen deaths.”

The air in the room chilled, plunging into silence.

“But how is that possible?” I asked. “I’ve never heard of more than thirteen. No one has.” All of Aritsar knew the story. Warlord Fire, consort of Queen Earth, had grown jealous of her union with King Water, and had cursed Earth’s children with thirteen deaths in revenge. But Woo In shook his head grimly.

“Ye Eun’s right,” he said. “Tarisai . . . there’s something you need to know about the Underworld. Death is not a concept there. In the Underworld, the Deaths are living things—prowling monsters. And when I saw them as a boy, there were more than thirteen. Way more. Some of them were expected: Burning, Drowning, Heart-Death, the like. But others were strange . . . like Despair. Avarice. Yearning. I think, perhaps, there’s a way humans can die while their hearts are still beating.” His jaw tightened. “One of the Deaths didn’t have a name at all.”