That moment at my Rising—when I had ordered her to be kinder. To change her demeanor at court and protect the weak.

To this day, she had kept her word. I had seen her in the hallways, flocked by a cloud of shy, plainly dressed girls, fussing over them like a hawk defending her chicks. I had expected Adebimpe to improve for a day, perhaps two. But ever since, she’d been a different person.

There had been other times too—when I ordered the nobles at my Rising to be silent. When I had compelled the rulers to sit at my Peace Banquet. And now . . . when Zuri had fallen to his knees, offering up the mask when I willed it.

“It—it can’t be,” I stammered. “That isn’t what the Ray is for.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Am the Storyteller,” I snapped. “Or Am’s memory, anyway. On a cave in Mount Sagimsan. I saw it all—where the Ray came from, what it’s for, everything. Melu granted the Ray to Enoba the Perfect, so the emperor could unite a council and gain immunity to death. That’s it.”

“No,” Zuri said quietly. “That is only one purpose of the Ray. Melu granted Enoba three wishes, remember? The first—to make one land out of many. The third—to unite souls. And the second?” He watched the memory dawn across my face, before saying it aloud: “The power to rule an empire for eternity. And what is power, but the ability to command the powerful?”

“How do you know all this?” I whispered. “And why haven’t I heard it before?”

“The Kunleo family is fond of secrets,” he replied vaguely. “I imagine Olugbade would have told Ekundayo, had he not died prematurely.”

“You haven’t answered all my question,” I hissed. “How do you know Kunleo secrets? Does this have something to do with how you know Prince Woo In?”

His face went blank. “I only owed you the answer to one question. You wasted it asking about Thaddace.” He flashed a rakish grin. “Dance with me at another banquet, and I’ll answer more.”

“Or,” I said, “answer them now, and I won’t lodge this spear in your backside.”

He stepped closer, gaze cold and bright. “Why stoop to violence, when you can compel me with your mind?”

I stepped back, faltering. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t deny what just happened,” he snapped, suddenly severe. “You made me give you that mask. So . . .” He leaned in, breath tickling my cheek. “Make me say what you want to know.”

My palms beaded with sweat. Whatever I had done to Zuri had scared me more than anything in months. I hadn’t felt so angry, so powerless since . . .

Since I knelt over Dayo beneath Enitawa’s Quiver, a knife sticking out of his gut.

At my horrified expression, Zuri sighed and held up his hands. “How about this?” he said. “I’ll tell you everything I know, as long as you don’t ask how I know it. Deal?”