He cocked his head, aghast. “Not even a little?”
“Of course not.” He looked so heartbroken, I wanted to comfort him. “It’s just, I’ve never met you before,” I stammered.
“But everyone loves me. Though I guess they could be lying. Father thinks I trust people too much.” Ekundayo frowned, then brightened with comical speed. “Maybe you’re lying, Tarisai of Swana. Maybe you do love me after all.”
My mouth curved up. I couldn’t help it: Just like in the portrait, his broad, gap-toothed smile was infectious.
“I don’t have any secrets,” I said, and then a fist twisted my insides. I stepped away from him. “I should go. Your Imperial Highness—”
“My friends call me Dayo,” he said eagerly. “Or they will. When I have friends.”
In my backward shuffle I stumbled on the tasseled edge of a rug. Dayo caught my arm to steady me. I jerked away.
“Did I do something wrong again?” he asked.
“No. But people don’t usually touch me. They avoid it.”
“Why?”
Maybe if I scared him, he would stay away from me. “Because I’m a half-demon,” I whispered, wiggling my eyebrows for effect. “A spy. I can see everything—everything—you’ve ever done.”
Dayo’s gaze widened. “That’s amazing.”
That wasn’t right. He should have been frightened. No one liked having light cast on the shadows of their thoughts. Unless … Perhaps, they had no shadows to hide.
Why in Am’s name did The Lady want me to hurt him?
“Do it,” he said, taking both my hands and placing them on his face. “Do it, Tarisai. Try your spy trick on me.”
I paused, feeling shy. No one had ever been excited about my Hallow before. I ran a thumb over his cheek, then remembered what my hands had itched to do just minutes earlier.
My mouth went dry.
No, I protested silently. That girl wasn’t me. I didn’t have to hurt anyone. I didn’t. I wouldn’t.
My body relaxed, and I let Dayo’s memories flood my vision. Hundreds of small faces barreled toward mine, drowning me in presents and kisses, sickly sweet voices feverish with desire: I love you, Ekundayo … I’d die for you, Ekundayo … Pick me, Ekundayo … pickmepickmepickme—
Most of the children had frightened him. Every now and then, a child made him feel safe, but they almost always failed some strange test I didn’t understand. Then Mbali would take the child away, and Dayo would return to his hiding place behind the curtain, heaving quiet sobs that no one ever heard.
My feelings began to mix with Dayo’s and I grew dizzy, pulling out of his mind. Just like Dayo, I had also watched the people I liked walk away. I had wondered why no one ever stayed—why I was surrounded, yet always alone. I tried to drop my hands from Dayo’s face, but he held them there, eyes pouring wistfully into mine.
“You’re going to be another one, aren’t you?” the prince murmured. “A person I like. A person they take away.”
“Maybe I won’t,” I said. Though our minds had separated, a strange energy hung in the air between us, tethering me to him. “Maybe I won’t go anywhere.”
He let me go. “There’s only one way to make sure. There are lots of tests, but only one really matters.” He dimpled. “If you pass, you have to stay with me.”
I frowned. “Do not.”
“Do too.”
“Do not—”
“All right,” he admitted. “You don’t. But you’ll want to; I just know it. When there’s twelve of us, they send us to Yorua Keep, a castle far away by the ocean. We’ll live there all by ourselves, and train to rule Aritsar, and go on adventures. I’ll see you every day. Forever, until we’re dead.”
“But won’t our parents miss us?” I frowned at the carpet. “Why do they always send us away?”
“They don’t,” Dayo laughed. “Not normal parents. But Father’s the emperor. He’s preparing me to rule.”
For what future, I wondered, was The Lady preparing me?
“Won’t your mother miss you?” I asked.
“Oh …” He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t have one. I mean—I know who she is.” I noticed then that his chin strongly resembled Nawusi’s. “But I’m not supposed to show favoritism to any of Father’s council members. I call them all ‘uncle’ or ‘auntie’—even my mother. It’s best for diplomacy. There are lots of rules here,” he admitted, “but don’t worry. If you pass the test, we’ll make our own rules. Far away, at Yorua.”
My stomach fluttered in spite of my crossed arms. A castle full of friends who never left? A chance to see the world? To see the sea?
“Well?” I said. “What’s the test?”
The answer was a jarring bolt ripping through my body, hurling me to the ground. Spots of light swirled painfully in my vision, and I could barely sense Dayo’s anxious voice as he knelt beside me, shaking my shoulders.
“Tarisai? I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have tried it. I shouldn’t—”
“What happened?” I moaned, shoving him away.
“I tried to unite your mind with mine,” he said. “It’s what emperors do with their councils. But it only works if you love me.”
“I sure don’t love you now,” I said, rubbing my throbbing temples.
The hidden door burst open and Mbali swept in, making tut sounds. Dayo flew at her, blubbering, “It wasn’t her fault, Auntie Mbali, I swear it wasn’t; don’t take her away …”
“Dayo,” Mbali said, extracting herself from his grip and helping me up. “You administered the test. She failed. I’ve warned you about trying the Ray too early.”
Dayo sob-hiccupped. “I—I just wanted her to stay.”
“You know the rules. Candidates have only one chance to succeed.”
“But—”
“Say goodbye, children.” She took my hand firmly in hers and walked me toward the door.
I had wanted to get away from Dayo. To keep us both safe. But now my heart was torn. I’d never had a friend in my life, and—I liked him. How could I let him vanish like The Lady, and Melu, and Woo In, and Kathleen?
Why did everyone always leave me?
The memory of the screaming Nontish boy, wrestled away by guards, still lay fresh in my mind. I knew I couldn’t fight Mbali. Heart racing, my mind shifted solutions like puzzle pieces. Invisible tutors breathed down my neck, and Woo In’s words echoed.
You have been prepared for this.
I crossed my arms and told Mbali, “I take orders from the prince, not you.”
She fixed her large dark eyes on mine. “Say that again, child.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t take orders from you. ‘Nothing is more important than loyalty.’ You said that earlier. So I’m not going anywhere …” I pointed a finger at Dayo. “… unless he wants me to.”
Mbali gave a slow, cunning smile. “Congratulations, Dayo. Your friend has passed a test that no candidate has before her.”
Dayo gaped. “That was a test?” Mbali nodded, and Dayo’s features grew puzzled. “So all the candidates you took away before … None of them had to go?”