By degrees, he read the stubbornness on my face, and his hardened with disappointment. Then his features grew strangely peaceful—distant. Resigned. “Well then, Idajo,” he said, still holding me, “you had better anoint me right now.”

My heart pounded. “Why?”

“Because I’m going down there,” he said. “It’s as you said—that battle is my doing. I won’t let those peasants fight alone. So in case I don’t see you again—”

“Stop it,” I rasped, scanning him with fearful eyes as his words sank in. “Stop talking nonsense. And I can’t anoint you. You don’t love me.”

He smiled, as calm as a madman. “Yes, I do.”

Reeling with anger and grief, I flung the Ray at him out of contempt, knowing he couldn’t hold it—knowing it would hurt him. You don’t love me, I Ray-spoke.

But he didn’t fall or cry out and press his temples. Instead, his voice sounded in my mind, setting all my nerves on edge.

Wrong again, Idajo.

I watched, speechless, as he drew a knife from his pocket, making a shallow slit in his palm. Then he sheathed the knife and took my hand. “Isn’t this how we seal it?” he asked. “The blood oath.”

I nodded woodenly, wondering how he knew that—anointings were usually done in private. Still, I allowed him to make a cut, pressing our palms together. I inhaled sharply as my Ray flowed into him: a permanent, thrumming tether.

That’s better, he Ray-spoke, then looped his fingers beneath the collar line of my dress, pulling out my obabirin mask by its cord, and setting it to rest on my chest.

Twelve bold colors glittered on the face of the lioness: every immunity but old age.

A thrill ran up my spine: I was a full Raybearer. I had fulfilled the command of the abiku. My mask was complete.

“How?” I asked, as he tore his tunic to wrap our hands. “How is this possible? Zuri, you barely know me.”

He shook his head, features glowing with that expression I’d seen twice before: hazy, as though recalling an old, fond memory. Then he drew me into a kiss—deeper than the one on the boat, stealing the air from my lungs as, dazed, I kissed him back.

I loved you once before, he Ray-spoke. A version of you. It’s how I knew you’d be perfect.

A cold, stinging suspicion crept into my veins.

He was vulnerable now—I could tell, from the way he trembled against me—and so when I sent my Hallow into his mind, the usual barriers were gone. He stiffened as I rummaged through his memories, my lips still pressed to his—but he did not stop me. Then I froze and pushed him away, eyes wet with disbelief. In his mind, I had found the face I was looking for. He had kissed her once too. He had bonded with her—lived as one of her Anointed Ones.

“Mother,” I gasped. “You . . . you were one of hers.”

He continued to smile. “I was, my Idajo. And in a way . . . now I’m hers again.”