The moment Zander entered the cell, his eyes widened, and he propped his fist on one hip and his stump arm on the other.

"Rashika have mercy, what is all this? You intend to torture me, is it?"

I blinked at him. "All this? Torture? What are you talking about?"

"The, the.." He waved the stump wrist as if to rotate a hand, frowned at the zigzagging stitches, and then flung both arms wide. "The chaos!"

I glanced around the room. The mattress still nestled into the corner, though it had shifted a bit during my recent nap. The bucket propped in another corner, the metal handle still stuck upward from when it had recently been dumped. The tan tunic and trousers I had worn to Pim's house draped over a metal drying rack in the corner, still stained with the blood I had not been able to scrub out.

"What chaos?"

He jerked up his hand to smooth both sides of his mustache. "Of course, you don't see it. If you don't mind, I'll just..."

Though I still had no idea what he was talking about, I nodded consent. Then I watched as Zander hobbled around the room. He pushed the mattress straight against the wall, lowered the handle of the bucket, and straightened the tunic and trousers. Then he puffed out a sigh deep enough his shoulders sank with it and flashed me a smile.

"Alright, now let's have another look at your shoulder."

I sat cross-legged on the mattress, unlaced the top of my tunic, and slid the fabric off one shoulder. Zander sank to the mattress beside me and began to peel back the bandages. As he worked, he spoke quietly.

"Daresay Rona is delightful."

A sad smile touched my lips. "She is, but she's been through the seven hells."

"I hear one of those hells was just this morning." He laid the bandage beside me and I heard liquid splash over a cloth. "And I hear you killed Royal Guards to save Izra and Rona."

"Izra told you that?"

He chuckled and dabbed the wet cloth over my shoulder. "Who else would have?"

I furrowed my brow, remembering the confusion in her eyes, the tension in her shoulders. "Where is she now?"

Zander sucked in a breath and blew it out through flapping lips, the warm gust of air tickling the cold sweat on my shoulders and neck. When he spoke, his voice turned sour.

"With Denavin."

I swallowed. "Do you think she's alright? If Denavin turns on Rashika's Resistance because of me..."

"This is nothing new, Epsa. I knew Denavin was bad news even back when I first met the group fifteen years ago."

"Fifteen years ago? Izra must have been a child."

"She was twelve. Small, scared, and stuttering." He swiped at my shoulder once more, and I twitched away with a half-suppressed whimper. "Plu and Ru were even smaller, maybe five or six. Denavin was sixteen, I believe, but she already carried herself like an adult."

I struggled to imagine Izra as a frightened little girl. What made her scared? And why were the four of them already together?

"How did you meet them? Were they seeking medical attention?"

"Oh, you think I'm a medic, is it? No, I'm a farmer." He chuckled. "And that group was stealing my vegetables. Happened that I needed a hand on the farm anyway, seeing as I'd just lost one of mine, so I offered them food and board if they helped me out."

"What about their parents? Where were they?"

The cloth paused against my back. "So no one told you about the incident."

"The incident?"

Zander dropped the cloth and fiddled with the bandages. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, Epsa? Where are your parents?"

I imagined Queen Romalda the last time I had seen her, hands trembling and head lolling back to the headrest of her chair. I am sorry about Pim. Did she know I was here now? Then my mind conjured her delicate snort and the flick of her bony wrist. Frankly, dear, I just don't care.

"My mother died when I was small," I said.

He pressed a bandage to my wound and wrapped it over my shoulder, tying it behind my armpit. "And your father?"

I saw King Makapu's dimpled smile and heard the warm rumble of his voice. I know it's difficult to accept, Epsa, but not everyone is who they first seem to be.

"Never had one."

"Siblings?"

A younger version of Makandi breached my mind, flashing a cheeky smile as he scooped handfuls of forbidden sweets into his pockets. I blinked once, and the current version of Makandi replaced my vision, smile blazing with insolent indifference.

"No siblings."

"A good friend, then?"

The other questions each carved into my gut, but this one plunged a dagger straight through my heart. What would Pim say if he could see me now? Would he applaud my bravery or condemn my betrayal?

Or perhaps, knowing Pim, he would only respond with contemplative empathy.

That's not something you should go through alone.

I choked on my numb tongue for a minute before I could answer. "Not... not anymore."

Zander crawled past me to perch at the edge of the lumpy mattress. A frown twisted the edges of his gray mustache as he studied me. When he finally spoke, his voice held soft resignation.

"Daresay you have lost more than a hand."

The door opened, and two familiar people filed in — Ru and Plu. Both hung their heads, hands behind their backs and feet scuffing the floor.

"We've taken your advice, Zander," said Ru, and then she lifted her head and looked straight at me. "We're here to apologize."

I shook my head. "You don't need —"

"Ep, ep, ep!" Zander raised his stump arm to silence me. "And Plu?

Plu's eyes remained on her feet, and she fiddled with one greasy strand of blonde hair. "Sorry, Epsa. You did not deserve what we did to you."

I furrowed my brow as conflicting emotions swamped my gut. Just that morning, I killed two guards who were like I had been weeks ago. How could I claim any moral high ground?

"I don't know. Maybe I did deserve —"

Zander cut me off with a loud parting of his lips. "You think you are talking to perfect people, is it? Daresay the polite thing to do is accept the apology."

I hesitated. "I suppose we've all made mistakes."

"And?" said Zander.

I looked at Ru and Plu. "And I forgive you."

Zander flashed a mouth of half-missing teeth and rocked his head in a deep nod.

"Great," said Ru. "Then let's drink." She pulled her hand out from behind her back to reveal a glass bottle of amber liquid with swirling specks.

Zander's smile vanished.

"What is this, now?" he croaked, brown eyes almost comically large. "You two think you are old enough for prak, is it?"

Ru and Plu exchanged a glance and giggled, shoulders shaking.

"We are not five anymore, Zander," said Ru as Plu handed her a mug. Ru plucked the cork out of the bottle, and liquid glugged into the mug. "In fact, we'll be twenty on the Darkday after next!"

"That's the Day of Acrador," I said without thinking.

All eyes turned to me, Plu and Ru with eyebrows raised and Zander with head cocked.

"You worship Lesser Gods, is it?" said Zander.

"No, but my friend does." I swallowed at the pain that rattled my chest. "I mean, did."

A unison murmur of condolences. Then Ru offered me the mug of prak. I accepted it with a nod and took a sip. The harsh liquid burned my tongue, but the spicy warmth calmed my nerves. I stared into the liquid as I continued speaking.

"He always traveled to Busk at this time of year. Supposedly it was for his mother's birthday, but he let slip a few times that it was really for Day of Acrador."

Zander scrunched his lips and then immediately flicked his thumb and finger over his mustache to straighten the misaligned hairs. "Well, your friend might not have been lying, exactly. Lesser God worshippers frequently celebrate their birthdays on Day of Acrador. You see, Acrador is the god of bounty, and it's the day farmers begin planting their new crops. Though this year, the ground is too dry for us to plant any crops."

"We don't even know our actual birthday," said Ru as she filled another mug. "We started celebrating on Day of Acrador because Izra told us to."

I raised my eyebrows. "Izra told you to?"

The door cracked open again, and a young man shuffled into the room. His gray tunic and trousers strained over a meaty neck, a generous waistline, and plump thighs. Loose black curls hung over his forehead, partially obscuring his eyes.

Plu took a big gulp of prak and averted her gaze, but Zander and Ru smiled in greeting.

"Hello, Navi," said Zander.

The newcomer licked his lips. "Oh, um, hello." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "Um, my mother is coming."

A moment later, a short, stout woman whisked in the room behind him, her silver-streaked dark curls bouncing against her broad back with each step. Then, holding the hand of the woman, Rona entered.

Rona's eyes flicked between the twins and Zander, and she hunched her shoulders and edged closer to the woman. But when her eyes landed on me, her face lit up. She bounded toward me, hopped onto the mattress, and nestled into my side.

I bit my lip over a grin and wrapped my free arm around her. "Well, hello. Are you doing alright?"

Her head shifted up and down against my shoulder. "Uh-huh. Alira is really nice."

I reached one hand up to stroke the back of Rona's head the way I usually did to Makari, and she slumped even further into my side with a soft sigh. Then I glanced up at the middle-aged woman, who now watched us with a smile, hands folded over her belly.

"You must be Alira. Thank you."

"Don't mention it." Her voice again reminded me of my mother's, a gentle lilt like a finger passing through chimes. Then her brow furrowed. "You look familiar. Have you been to Kalasiki?"

"No, but I've met some people from Kalasiki when they visited the palace. Were you an advisor or a guard?

"Advisor or guard? Ha!" The laugh jiggled her belly. "No, dear. I was a slave."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I knew Kalasiki and Kulas both permitted slavery, but I had never met a slave before. Knowing it happened was entirely different from looking into the eyes of someone whose life had been destroyed.

"Oh," I said weakly. "That's... I'm sorry."

"Luckily, I escaped when I was pregnant with Navi." She rubbed his shoulder, crinkling the tunic sleeve. "Thank Rashika that Navi never had to experience that. And now I am honored to fight in Rashika's Resistance so we can one day free all of the slaves."

"Rashika's Resistance is fighting to free the slaves? I thought the movement was focused on the treatment of Lesser God worshippers and the poor."

Alira tilted her head. "We have as many goals as the King does shortfallings, my dear."

I studied the twinkling passion in her gaze, her hand fiddling lovingly with her son's sleeve. "After so many years of slavery, how are you not bitter?"

"Oh, but I am bitter," she said, voice still melodic and pleasant. "Every night, I pray that Goddess Rashika will send the Three-Legged Lion to help us destroy the King and everyone else who has ever stood against me. I pray the lion's claws will rip them to shreds, leaving nothing but mangled entrails and —" She eyed Rona and then flashed me an apologetic smile. "Well, you understand what I mean."

I imagined the one-eyed Snuggles on my bedside table, the centerpiece for years of vengeful fantasies, and I gave a slow nod. "Yes. I do understand."

"Well, then," said Ru, "Who else wants some prak?"

The mugs passed around the room and met lips. Ru and Plu brought in chairs for everyone and arranged them in an apparently uneven circle, a malady Zander quickly rectified. Then conversation began to flow, postures relaxed, and a warmth filled the cold space. Even Navi opened up enough to share a joke which lacked any punchline but still made Plu tear up with snorts of laughter.

In that moment, the cell felt more like home than the palace ever had.

Still, I couldn't help glancing at the door from time to time, wondering when Izra would return from visiting Denavin. Wondering if she was alright.

When Rona unsuccessfully stifled a big yawn, Alira whisked her off of the mattress and carried her off to bed. Zander excused himself to sleep as well, and after a few seconds of lip-licking and blinking, Navi followed them out the door.

Ru turned to flash me a pink-cheeked grin and shook the half-full bottle so the liquid sloshed up the sides. "One more round?"

I shrugged and lifted my mug.

When Plu and Ru refilled their own mugs and settled into two chairs on the other side of the circle from me, I asked, "Do you think Izra has returned yet?"

"I don't know," said Ru. "Denavin wouldn't hurt her, though."

Plu nodded in agreement. "Denavin loves Izra. She always protected Izra and Izkar."

"Izkar?"

The twins exchanged a wide-eyed glance, and Plu bit her lip.

"A friend from before the incident. But please don't tell Izra I —"

The door opened, and Izra slipped into the room. She leaned back against the wall, folded her arms over her chest, and crossed one ankle over the other. But while I could find no physical signs of harm, I thought I saw something dark in her gaze — something haunted.

"Do continue," she said easily. "Don't tell Izra what?"

Plu froze, cheeks flushing pink, but Ru flashed a bright smile and spoke cheerfully.

"Hello, Izra! How did it go with Denavin?"

"It went fine. She said she feels no need to return to Rashika's Resistance as long as I visit her every Darkday."

Plu and Ru both chuckled, and Plu said, "I knew she was only here for you!"

"Hmm." Izra sauntered toward me and dropped into the chair beside mine, though her eyes remained on Plu and Ru. "Also, I was able to meet with my contact who knows a Trogolese mercenary. We'll bring Rona to the lighthouse in two nights, and the mercenary will take her back to Trog."

I exhaled a sigh of relief, though wariness still simmered in my gut. "Are you certain this mercenary can be trusted?"

Izra sideglanced me, and her eyes softened a little. "You really care about her, don't you? You can join us for the hand-off and judge for yourself." Then she nodded to the mug of prak in my hand. "What is this? Are you celebrating something?"

Ru cleared her throat. "We were just, um... reconciling."

"Reconciling," Izra said slowly. "Then where is my mug?"

Plu's eyebrows shot up. "But you never drink."

Izra shrugged. "I do tonight."