“If there’s anything I’ve learned from having eleven partners bonded to me for life,” he said gently, “it’s that there are all kinds of love, Tar. You talk about things with Kirah that you never share with Jeet. And you have—things—with Jeet . . . that you’ll never have with me. And that’s fine. We’re the only Raybearers on earth. What we have is . . .” He trailed off, words failing, and flooded my mind instead.

Warmth coursed from the roots of my scalp to the soles of my feet. All of a sudden, everything was Dayo—his thoughts, his earthy smell, his steady heartbeat—and yet I was more myself than ever. On both our chests, the oba and obabirin masks glowed, and for a moment, they almost seemed to float, drawn to each other like two halves of a perfect whole. Then Dayo withdrew and the masks faded.

The guards were glancing back at us. Sheepishly we fell in step again, and Dayo linked my arm through his.

“You’re doing it again,” I mumbled, resting my head on his shoulder. “Making me feel like I belong.”

Faintly, the glyphs on my arms began to sting. I shuddered, fighting off the surge of ghostly whispers.

Not enough. Not enough. He is blind. Do more.

Dayo paused, considering. Then he dipped to drop a kiss, experimentally, on my cheek. “That’s fun,” he concluded. “I can do without the rest, I think. But we should kiss more often.”

I laughed, shoving him as he aimed another peck at my nose. “I’m not sure how Jeet would feel about that.”

“He stole your heart,” Dayo pointed out. “He can spare your nose every now and then.” He dimpled, then grew suddenly distant. “This world is going to be so much brighter for future Raybearers. Can you imagine, Tar? Just think. Now that we know there are two, they’ll have soulmates . . . instead of growing up lonely. Like we did.” He draped an arm around me. “I mean, it, Tar. When you and Jeet finally have children, it’ll be the best thing that ever—”

I stopped dead in my tracks, dropping my arm from his.

Dayo blinked. “What’s wrong?”

“When Jeet and I what?”

Dayo smiled, shifting his feet. “You know. I just assumed. Since you and Jeet are always finding excuses to slip away, be alone together . . . I figured it was . . . bound to happen. Eventually.”

“We haven’t been together like that,” I said, my voice shrill. “Not yet. And even if we had been . . .” I thought of my panic that night with Sanjeet, how I froze in his arms. A realization formed in my stomach, hardening into conviction. “Dayo, I don’t think I want to be a mother. Ever.”

“Oh.” He looked stunned. “Well, not now, maybe. But later . . .”

“Later I’ll change my mind?” I crossed my arms. “What makes you think that?”

His shoulders sagged. “I’m sorry. I just . . .” He sighed. “We have to make more Raybearers somehow. And what it takes is—you know. Not in the stars for me.” He leaned against the Watching Wall, looking queasy.