“Then we’ll do that. But—” He took a deep breath. “First things first, though, right?” His eyes softened as he looked at me, then at his brother.

I nodded as I slowly breathed in through my nose and out through my mouth. “Yes, of course. First, little Rish.”

My abum once told me that you must excise the cause of infection for the good of the body or it would fester and spread. In Rish’s case, it certainly had.

Just like Uruku was infecting the city of Alu.

Filled with purpose, I stared down at the bone saw. The needle and thread. The sterilized dagger for the easier work. The myrrh, sikaru, and the clean cloths. I mentally worked through the steps I’d need to take to sever Rish’s lower arm from his body.

And when I was finished, I’d cut Uruku out of the body of Alu with the sharpest blade in the entire fertile valley: the Koru.

IN THE ABANDONED city of Wussuru, the Manzazu warriors lined up in neat rows like markings on a tablet, their copper helmets shining in the sun. In their fists were maces. Spears. Sickleswords. Battle-axes. Bows. Their armored cloaks glimmered like snake’s scales when they moved, shifting a battle-ax to a better hand. Repositioning a spear.

I would not want to be the recipient of this army’s punishment. In front of them, several of the army’s commanders stalked, their faces stony. And next to them walked Higal and Commander Ummi, gesturing angrily at one another.

Dagan stood in front of Assata, who’d changed into the Manzazu uniform. She looked lethal with the sickleswords in sheaths at her waist, an armored tunic on her back. Dagan’s face fell in grief as he finished telling her of Warad. When he stopped, hands on hips, head hanging, she screamed and shoved him hard in the chest, tears springing to her eyes and rolling down her cheeks in fury.

We’d debated telling Assata at all about Warad. But after talking with Arwia, we decided the only compassionate thing to do was to relay the news and pray it redirected her to join forces with us in our bridal scheme.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Assata pushed Dagan once more, slapped his cheek, and stormed away, howling and beating her chest.

Dagan stood there a second, kicking the sand, before walking back toward us. He rubbed his jaw where he’d been slapped and Nasu clapped a hand on his shoulder. Tears flooded my vision. That poor woman.

“Well, that was a terrible idea. She’ll never forgive us,” Dagan told me as he shielded his eyes from the sun. He and I had made the trip to Wussuru, leaving Nanaea to care for Rish and Kasha for the day we would be gone. While she did, she and the weaver friend would make the Koru’s bridal tunics. Rish’s skin had pinked up immediately when the infected arm had been removed, and I’d stuffed him full of enough poppy to sleep for a full day. There was once a time I wouldn’t trust her to the task of watching him. But now? She was proving herself competent and efficient. Startlingly so.