Every bone in my body turned to ice.

“It shouldn’t take more than a few weeks per person, I think,” Dayo went on brightly. “Her memories work like dreams, hours compressed down into seconds, and”—

Are you out, I screeched at him through the Ray, of your yam-loving mind?

—“though it might feel strange, once you get to know Tar . . .” He grinned. “You can’t help but love her.”

Dayo, you’re going to get me killed. How can I show these people my memories? They hate me enough already!

He blinked, confused at my distress. But it’s the only way. They can’t bond with you if you don’t open up a little.

Open up? I was hyperventilating. Open up? Dayo, this won’t be like sharing a few secrets after a night of honeywine. This is my life. My whole life. I tried to murder you, for Am’s sake.

They’ll know why you did it, though, Dayo protested. They’ll feel your love for your mother. Your love for me. Tar . . . your memories tell your story better than you ever could.

My throat closed with fear. I won’t survive this, I thought numbly, and Ai Ling took my hand.

Dayo, she Ray-spoke, you should have asked Tar first. Announcing it like this wasn’t fair. If she does this, there’s no going back.

Dayo deflated with guilt, fumbling with the mask on his chest. You’re right. I’m sorry, Tar. I was just trying to help. He paused. But they don’t have to like you to love you, you know. They only have to understand.

As I processed this, Ai Ling said aloud, “A good time to go around the table, I think.”

She signaled to the attendants, who passed kola nuts to every ruler, and then held up the empty vessel. “If you accept the invitation of the emperor and empress to stay at An-Ileyoba and secure the future of Aritsar,” Ai Ling said, “then place your token in this bowl. Or, if you would rather risk a future of eternal child sacrifice, permanently interrupted trade, and another War of Twelve Armies against the Underworld . . . keep the token to yourself.”

The air in the room chilled. But as I watched with both relief and terror, one by one, kola nuts dropped into the bowl.

“Accept—accept—accept.”

Reluctant words of assent from Min Ja, Uriyah, Helius, Sadhika, Ji Huan, Nadrej, Edwynn of Mewe, Danai, Kwasi of Nyamba, and Uxmal. Zuri threw in his kola nut with a flourish and a wink. Even Beatrix tossed hers in, with a haughty shrug.

My banquet had been a success. But still my hands sweated, numb with fear. I may have promised to enter the Underworld . . . but nothing scared me more than the promise to which Dayo had bound me: exposing my ugliest memories to twelve complete strangers.