“Kill them,” said Zuri. “Order their hearts to stop and the battle will end immediately. Thousands of lives saved . . . and a new Djbanti born.”

“Zuri, what are you talking about?” I wrenched from his grasp, my head reeling. “I can’t just murder seven people in cold blood.”

He blinked. “If you don’t,” he said calmly, “thousands of peasants will die.”

“Peasants you incited to rebel!”

“Yes. Incited to stop bowing to people like those warlords. To people like me, for Am’s sake. To royal families, who have profited off the backs of the poor for decades.”

“You’re using me,” I whispered.

“Of course I’m using you.” He blinked at me without an ounce of shame. “To save thousands of people. Just like you’re using me to complete your council and save thousands of Redemptors.”

“That is not the same,” I snapped. “I never manipulated or lied to you. If I kill those warlords, you might not abdicate the throne of Djbanti. You could just seize all their land for yourself. Rule with absolute power.”

He exhaled slowly. “There’s no reason for you to trust me,” he admitted. “I wish I could prove myself, but I can’t. Still, Idajo . . . if you don’t deliver justice to Gakuru and his fellow cretins, the blood of innocents will be on your hands.”

“Don’t,” I shrilled. “Don’t you dare blame me for a massacre you orchestrated.”

“You could kill me,” he said, with sudden inspiration. “If I don’t abdicate. You could use my okanoba to stop my heart. That’s it—there’s your insurance. If I break my promise, you stop my heart where I stand.”

He was right. And even if I didn’t have that power . . . deep down, I knew Zuri wasn’t lying to me. I may not have known him as well as I thought I had, but anyone could see that Zuri was extraordinary. He would never connive for a life of mere wealth and comfort. It was too unimaginative. Every muscle in his body strained for purpose. If I did what he wanted, Zuri would toss away his crown without a second thought. And those people below . . .

My eyes slid to the peasants. The longer I waited, the more people fell. How many times would my cowardice cost human lives?

“You already used your okanoba to save me,” he said fiercely, drawing me close. His hands found my waist, and my breath shortened. “Deep down, we think the same, Idajo. You stepped into your power like a second skin. It was beautiful. You used it then, for one life. So why not now, for many?”

The logic entrapped me, clouding my thoughts. Already I could feel the heat rising in my chest. I wouldn’t even have to speak—if I thought of Gakuru’s cruel features and let the reins on my anger slacken, he and the other warlords would drop dead. Still—

I balled my hands into fists. “When I saved you, I didn’t have to kill anyone. I didn’t play god.”