I frowned with confusion. How could a supernatural war be better than my death in the Underworld?

Her wrinkled features grew distorted. The sprites began to wane and disperse, and so Mongwe spoke quickly. “The kuso-kuso is fading. Malevolent spirits work against me, and I may not soon visit you again. More advice: In the Underworld, the abiku may not touch, harm, or kill you without your consent. These are the laws of the Storyteller—laws to separate life and death—by which even the abiku must abide. Spirits of dead humans are different, but they seldom leave Egungun’s Parade. Oh—and no matter how you much you want to, don’t you dare trust the—”

But then Mongwe vanished, and the sprites dispersed, ascending from the clearing in a buzzing cloud.

“Don’t what?” I yelled after them. “Don’t trust the what?”

But Mongwe was silent, now nothing but a purple scatter of lights across the sky.

CHAPTER 30

“You kissed him?” Kirah Sputtered, wisps of hair escaping from her prayer shawl. “You kissed the king of Djbanti?”

I laughed, tossing a fig at her as our legs dangled over the edge of the Children’s Palace roof. The fruit missed her, bouncing on a balustrade and tumbling to the courtyard far below.

“Out of everything I just told you, that’s what you remember? Kirah, there was a whole battle! A Djbanti revolution.”

“I know! But . . . Zuri?” she squealed, and wrinkled her nose, an expression I had sorely missed these past several months. Then she looked apologetic. “Sorry, I shouldn’t make fun. Now that he’s . . . you know—”

“No, it’s all right.” I smiled at her. “You’re allowed to tease, after the hard time I gave you about Woo In. By the way, have you finally forgiven him and admitted you’re crazy about each other?”

Kirah’s moonlike face flushed. The setting sun dyed An-Ileyoba in rose gold, and orange blossoms floated on the Oluwan City breeze. I could almost pretend we were small girls again, braiding each other’s hair and trading secrets before scampering back down to the Hall of Dreams. I’d asked Kirah to come here for old times’ sake—and to avoid Woo In, who followed Kirah around the palace like a sullen, lovesick lapdog.

Woo In and Kirah had only just returned to Oluwan, their peace campaign in Songland a tentative success. With Min Ja’s blessing, they had brought an entire barge of Songlander merchants and dignitaries to Oluwan, all of them eager to establish their presence in the Arit capital.

“My relationship with the prince of Songland is political,” Kirah said primly. “We work well together, yes, but the priorities of our realms come first—”

“You sing his name in your sleep,” I deadpanned. “You dream about him flying you around the moon, and going on mountaintop picnics, where for some reason, neither of you have any clothes on—”