“Good,” he panted. “Now make me do something hard. Something I don’t want to do.”

I gulped and shook my head. “Get up. And I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Come on,” he goaded, upright again. “You hate me. So why not show it?”

“Stop being stupid. I don’t hate you.”

“No?” He cocked his head, locs falling in thick strands. “Could have fooled me.”

“I can’t stand you,” I said, flushing. “There’s a difference.”

He smiled, leaning close. Eucalyptus and peppermint washed over me in a cloud. “Still,” he said, “haven’t you wanted to see me squirm? What about when my agents covered you in blood at that market? Or the time I tricked you into dancing at your Peace Banquet? Or—” He paused, as if considering whether to cross a line. “Shall I tell you a secret? I know what High General Sanjeet has been up to.” I started, but before I could interrupt, Zuri continued, “And no, it isn’t searching for alagbatos, or even finding the new entrance to the Underworld. My spies keep me informed—he finished with all of that over a month ago. Now he’s doing something new . . . almost as if he’s trying to stay away from Oluwan. Funny—I used to be jealous, watching the two of you. I could have sworn you two were in love. But he’s been away so long, I must have been mistaken—”

“You shut up,” I snapped, heat surging through the mask. Before I knew it, Zuri was clutching his neck, eyes wide as he doubled over onto the deck, seeming to gag on his own tongue.

The bosun hurried over in alarm, and for half a second, I watched, fascinated and horrified. Then I snapped back into sanity, kneeling by Zuri’s side.

“Breathe,” I yelped. “For Am’s sake, Zuri. Breathe, I command it.” Only then did his rasping ease, and his hands dropped from his throat . . . but it didn’t end there. When I commanded him, a fleeting thought had overcome me: Okanoba is more trouble than it’s worth.

And though I had not directly commanded that thought—my will took shape in Zuri. I could sense the power fading from his body, leaving him alive, but weakened. Smaller. Even his muscles seemed diminished. Panicking, I willed the reverse . . . and Zuri grew vibrant again, his breaths strong and even.

The bosun stared daggers at me, but Zuri only laughed, waving the man away.

“Admit it,” he croaked, “that was fun for you.”

I collapsed against a barrel of oranges, feeling sick. “It wasn’t.”

“Not even a little?” He rolled onto his stomach, propping his chin in his hands.

“I took it,” I breathed. “Just now. I took your okanoba away.”

He nodded slowly. “Yes. Then you gave it back. I told you that was within your power. You could try it again.”

“When Blessid Valley freezes over.”

“Make me tell you things.” He used his wheedling courtier voice. “How I know Prince Woo In. Where I found out about the power of okanoba. Why I won’t let you see my memories.”