He scanned me with eyes like half-moons, lifting a tan, angular jaw. A blue cape draped over his arm. Besides that, he wore nothing but trousers, and every inch of his body—face, arms, chest, and feet—was covered in what appeared to be geometric purple tattoos. I probably imagined it, but for a moment, they seemed to glow.
He gave a sardonic bow, straight jet hair shining over his shoulder. “A pleasure, Lady’s Daughter. My name is Woo In. My homeland, thank the Storyteller, lies outside this unnaturally unified empire.”
I gaped. “You’re from Songland!”
“You make it sound like a fairy world.” He rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m from Songland. I’m covered in these pretty pictures, aren’t I?”
His tone was sarcastic. But I did think they were pretty, if a little unsettling. Patterns twisted up his face and neck, like a logic puzzle with no solution. I gulped: Woo In was a Redemptor.
Songland was a poor peninsula nation on the edge of our continent. Their ancestors had refused to recognize Enoba as emperor—and as a result, the tiny realm was excluded from Aritsar’s bustling trade. A jagged range of mountains cut Songland off from the mainland. Aritsar might have ignored Songland altogether, if not for the Redemptors.
Enoba the Perfect had bought peace for our world at a steep price. Every year, three hundred children were sent into the Oruku Breach: the last known entrance to the Underworld. In exchange for this sacrifice, the abiku refrained from ravaging human cities and villages. The children, known as Redemptors, were born with maps on their skin, meant to guide them through the Underworld and back to the realm of the living. Few survived the journey. As a result, some families hid their Redemptor children at birth. But for every missed sacrifice, the abiku would send a horde of beasts and plagues to raze the continent.
Redemptors were supposedly born at random, to any race and class. But for some reason, every Redemptor in the last five hundred years had been born in Songland.
No one knew why. But guilt-ridden Arits, relieved from the burden of sacrificing their own children, had plenty of theories to help them sleep at night. The Songlanders had offended the Storyteller, they guessed. The Redemptor children were punishment for some historical sin of Songland’s. Or perhaps, Songland was blessed by the Storyteller, and their children were saints, chosen to sacrifice themselves for the greater good. The greater good, of course, was Aritsar.
I peered at Woo In. He did not strike me as particularly saintly. But he must have been special to survive the Oruku Breach. In the rare event that Redemptor children came back alive, they were scarred in mind, if not body.
I smiled at him and Kathleen. Maybe if these strangers—my permanent guardians—liked me, then I could stop talking to invisible emperors. Maybe, for the first time, I could have friends. Real ones.
Don’t think I’m a demon, I prayed. Think I’m a girl. A normal, market-caravan, not-scary girl.
“Do we have to nanny her?” Kathleen whined to The Lady. “Can’t you hire some mute nursemaid, or bribe one into secrecy?”
“No,” The Lady snapped. “Once my daughter leaves Bhekina House for Oluwan City, I cannot control what she sees and hears. She must be with people I trust.”
Leave?
Leave Bhekina House?
Kathleen crossed her arms. “You’re sure this … wish-creature is ready?”
“We are running out of time. Children are already being chosen. If we are not quick, there will be no more room on the Prince’s Council—” The Lady broke off abruptly, tossing me a nervous glance.
“Don’t fret, Lady,” said Kathleen with a smirk. “We can always make room.”
The Lady frowned. “I’m hoping that won’t be necessary. The emperor and his Elev—” She stopped again, glancing at me. “The emperor’s … friends … are too smart for that. My daughter’s selection must happen as naturally as possible.”
Kathleen laughed. “Do we have to keep censoring what we say? She’s going to find out eventually.”
“Ignorance will make her seem pure,” The Lady said grimly. “The emperor loves girls like that.”
“Then you’re making the wish today?” Woo In asked. The Lady nodded, and to my shock, she cupped Woo In’s face just as she had cupped mine. He leaned into the touch, kissing her palm. I was jealous immediately.
She said, “I know you’ll keep her safe.”
He scanned her features with hunger, a moth before a candle. “I believe in this cause,” he said.
She fondled his hair. “And I believe in you.”
“Why are we going to Oluwan?” I demanded. “Mother, are you coming too?”
“No, Made-of-Me.” The Lady reclined on one of our hall’s broad window seats. The sun backlit her frame in a halo. “I will come for you when the time is right.” She patted her lap, nodding at me.
For the rest of my life, I wished the universe had given me a sign then. A warning of what was about to happen. But no—the air was warm and serene, and honeybirds sang in the distance as I scrambled, eagerly, into my mother’s arms.
She stroked my back for a moment, gazing at the hazy Swanian sky. “How frightened you must be,” she told someone I could not see. “You caged me like a bird, but you could not make me sing.” Then she told Kathleen, “Give her the portrait.”
A gilded oval frame was placed in my hands. A boy stared back at me, with tightly curled hair and the brightest smile I’d ever seen. Naive brown eyes shone from a dark, broad-featured face.
“Why is he happy?” I asked.
The Lady raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you curious who he is?” I shrugged, and so she answered my question. “He is happy because he has everything you want. Power. Wealth. Legacy. His father stole those things from you, and gave them to him.”
“Be careful, Lady,” Kathleen muttered. “Remember: She must fall in love with him.”
My brow creased with confusion. I couldn’t remember ever wanting power or wealth. And why did I have to love him? But The Lady’s pressing arms and the scent of jasmine jumbled my thoughts. I snuggled against her, forgetting the boy with his stolen happiness. I would trade all the wealth in Aritsar to be held. To be touched without fear. To never be called dangerous.
“Are you listening, Made-of-Me?” The Lady whispered. I closed my eyes and nodded, resting my cheek on her breast. Her heart raced like a hummingbird. Her next words were halting, cautious. “When you meet this boy in the portrait …”
Something that had slept for years rose in my belly, searing my skin, like the cuff on Melu’s arm had done. I opened my eyes. For a moment, in my reflection on the portrait’s surface, my pupils glowed like emeralds.
“When you love him the most, and when he anoints you as his own …” The Lady touched the boy’s face, blotting out his dazzling smile. “I command you to kill him.”
I RETCHED INTO THE BOWL BETWEEN MY LEGS, stomach lurching with the jostle of the mule-and-box.
“I told you traveling by lodestone was a bad idea,” Kathleen snapped at Woo In as she emptied my sick bowl out the window. “We should have taken camels. Lodestones are nasty powerful. She’s never been exposed to magic before.”