Though I did not remember moving, the tip of my sword pressed against the mercenary's neck just below the brown curls on his jaw. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, my lungs expanded and expelled air in violent gusts, and my arm shook.

His eyes widened to circles interrupted by curling fur. "What are you —"

I hissed the words through gritted teeth. "You killed my mother."

His mouth snapped shut fast enough the wooden teeth clacked, and his gaze flicked over my shoulder to the silent group behind me. "What is this? I didn't come here to be attacked. Don't you think you should control this mad woman?"

Izra responded from behind me, voice soft. "No. I think she deserves the truth."

He released a laugh and rolled his eyes skyward. "Look, I don't know who your mother is, but you all are mistaken. I haven't killed anyone in many years."

I shifted my grip on the sword but did not lower it. "How many years? Twenty, perhaps?"

He froze, eyes locking on mine. Then his chest deflated with a ragged sigh.

"You look just like her."

I had imagined this moment so many times, fantasies stained glorious red. I had imagined terror flooding his eyes, his scream breaking into a gurgling gasp as my sword plunged through his gut. This was all wrong. This was not how the meeting was supposed to happen.

I swallowed twice before croaking a reply. "Why? Why did you do it?"

His shoulders lifted in a lopsided, uncomfortable shrug. "I'm a mercenary. I do what I'm paid to do."

"Paid by who? Who paid you?"

He furrowed his brows. "You really don't know, do you?"

Trepidation spilled poison through my veins. "Who?" I repeated, but before he even opened his mouth, I knew what he would say.

"Your King paid us to do it. King Makapu."

The words rang tinny in my ears, and a fuzzy memory overlaid reality. The handsome warrior with the twinkling smile kneeling at my bedside... my hero. Darkness drenched the world around me like ink, my knees weakened, and my body swayed.

Then a hand slid into my free one, warm fingers squeezing. In a sea of dark, Izra's eyes shone bright. I squeezed back — hard, as though to pass on the weight of my burden through my grip. Her hand held fast.

I turned back to Snuggles. "Why? Why would the King do that to his own people?"

"I don't know. Never bothered to ask. The money was good enough to keep us quiet."

"And good enough to justify murder?"

Snuggles blew out a sigh, rippling the fur around his lips. "The Trogolese mercenaries don't kill anymore. We even refused the King's latest request a few days ago."

Izra edged one step toward Snuggles, still holding my hand tight. "The King made another request? What did he want?"

"He asked us to sail up the Barzatuk River into Busk and attack a few independent tribes. We were supposed to capture a couple hundred Lesser God worshippers for Rakim to sell to Kulas and Kalasiki as slaves."

A gasp passed over the group behind me, but I found myself unable to breathe at all. My chest burned with rage. Angry I had taken so long to see the truth. Angry at the monster who had destroyed my life with a smile. Angry even at the night's tranquility, stars twinkling above, gentle waves lapping the boat, wet breeze sifting through my tunic.

I wanted a storm.

Izra broke the silence. "When was this supposed to happen?"

"I don't know," said Snuggles. "Like I said, we turned him down. If he wants to take slaves from Busk, he'll have to send his own Royal Guard to do it."

"Is he still planning to do it?" Izra asked. "Will he send his Royal Guard into Busk?"

He tipped his head. "Expect so. The Kingdom needs to sell more slaves if they want to remain powerful enough to —"

A patter of feet on sand turned everyone's attention back to the wagon. A tiny figure darted toward us and flung herself up into the Trogolese woman's arms.

"Aunty Rolina!"

Rolina rubbed her face against Rona's, grinning. But then her eyes returned to me, and her smile faded.

Rona twisted in Rolina's arms. When her eyes locked on the sword in my hands, she frowned and cocked her head. "Epsa? Is... is there a problem?"

I sucked in a breath and shook my head, but I could neither form words nor lower the sword. Cold confusion swamped my gut, along with a deep sense of loss. This fantasy of revenge had fueled me through so many years... but nothing made sense anymore.

Then Izra whispered a command. "Epsa, look at me."

The soft words snagged my heart like a fishing hook, and my gaze jerked to meet hers. Her eyes held steady, the black irises flickering with light, with depth, with compassion.

I've heard her eyes are as black as her soul.

Black, I thought right then, was the most beautiful color of them all.

"It's your decision, Epsa," she said. "Whatever you decide, we'll figure it out. Whatever you decide, I'm here."

Behind me, I heard one of the brawny men take a step forward and clear his throat. "Izra, do you really —"

The other man and the twins hushed him.

Izra's eyes never left mine.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, a ridiculous reaction I attempted to quash. I was facing the man who killed my mother amid a group who planned to kill my former hero, and the thing that broke my composure was the invitation to make a decision?

My gaze returned to Snuggles. "How do I know I can trust you?"

He sucked his lip into his mouth, craggy wooden teeth snagging in the fur. "You don't, really. But I have been paid to bring a child to Trog safely, and I always do what I am paid to do. Well, always except for once."

"Once? Once when?"

A small smile twitched the fur on one side of his lips. "The King wanted no survivors. The girl who offered me cinnamon crisps clearly survived."

An involuntary exhale drained my breath, and my voice crackled. "Why didn't you kill her?"

A shrug lifted both his brows and shoulders. "I don't know, she was just... she was tiny."

An image flashed before me in clear details — Pim standing before Rona, hands waving as though to catch the words from the air. She's so... tiny.

I sheathed the sword and choked out words over the rising knot in my throat. "Go. Go bring Rona back to Trog."

Though no longer threatened by my sword, Snuggles continued to hold my gaze. His tongue swiped his lip, his throat bobbed, and I thought I could read the unspoken words in his eyes: I'm sorry.

But apologies only worked for broken toys or forgotten dates.

So Snuggles turned back toward the boat.

Then Rona squirmed free from her aunt and dashed toward me. When she buried her face in my stomach, I dropped into a crouch and pressed her to my chest. Though her tiny form and furry brown face contrasted Pim's hulking frame and pale skin, I had the strangest sensation I was hugging him, too.

And saying goodbye.

Rona squeezed tighter and sniffled. "Will I see you again?"

"Rona, I don't..." When her head tipped so her eyes could meet mine, I saw the vulnerability, the fear, the tentative hope — and my words changed course. "If you want to see me again, I'll make sure it happens."

"I want it," she said. "I really, really want it."

"Then it will happen."

After Rona released me, I watched the next moments as though in a dream. Snuggles untied the rope wrapped around a rock on the shoreline. Rolina carried Rona to the boat, and Snuggles hooked hands under her armpits to lift her in. He set her down so gently... almost as gentle as Pim.

Wood scraped sand, and the boat drifted through the waves. I watched the sail's triangular shadow waver over the flickering waters. Then the boat escaped the lighthouse's reach and winked out of sight.

* * *

As soon as we returned the rebel base, Izra ordered Ru and Plu to gather everyone for an emergency meeting. I waited for Izra to lead me back to the cell. Instead, she untied my blindfold and asked me to stay.

I hesitated, blinking at her as my eyes adjusted to the light. "Izra, do you really think it's a good idea for me to hear this meeting? What if I tell the King what I've heard?"

She held my gaze, unblinking. "Will you?"

In her eyes, I saw an echo of a question from long ago: Can I trust you, Epsa? I swallowed and averted my gaze.

"If he tortures me..."

She exhaled sharply. "Epsa, if you really think the King might torture you, then you can't go back to him."

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the two brawny men shoving tables around the room. "I won't pass up an opportunity to help."

"But you can't just..." She sighed. "Look, we are just debriefing the meeting with the mercenary tonight, and you were there for it. Besides, you might have valuable input. You know the King better than anyone here."

"I don't know. I'm starting to think I knew him least of all."

Izra's hand brushed mine, wrenching my gaze to meet hers, and her eyes and voice both emanated quiet certainty. "Stay."

Zander appeared first and wagged a finger at the two bulky men moving the tables. "Not like that! Good Goddess, Janafir and Jek, has fifteen years with me taught you nothing?"

Both men ducked their heads, and one ran a hand through his flaming red hair while the other tugged on his braided black beard. With hunched shoulders, they followed Zander's guidance to adjust the tables into an even line.

Izra sat at one end of the tables and gestured to the chair on her right. As I sank down beside her, the tread of footsteps and quiet chatter carried through the door. The twins reentered, followed by Navi and a number of men and women I did not recognize, and chair legs screeched against the floor. A few cast wary glances at me, but one look from Izra closed their mouths.

Izra started by relaying the mercenary's revelation about the Day of Blessings attack. Then she said, "The King's efforts to destroy the Lesser God worshippers did not stop with the Massacre or even with the attack on the Day of Blessings. The King now plans —"

"The Massacre?"

I hadn't intended to say the words aloud. When the room silenced and attention shifted to me, I cursed myself for interrupting Izra and for reminding everyone I was an outsider. Someone who did not know what they all knew. Someone who should not be trusted.

Izra's voice remained smooth and unaffected. "Of course, the King has all but erased that event. Epsa, six months before the Trogolese attack, the King ordered the Royal Guard to capture and execute hundreds of suspected Lesser God worshippers. I believe the subsequent Trogolese attack allowed the King to eliminate even more people of our faith while uniting the Kingdom against Trog."

Heads around me nodded, but I just furrowed my brow, unable to fit the puzzle pieces together. "But... but my mother was not a Lesser God worshipper."

Ru leaned forward to glance at me over Jek's shoulder. "You must have been young then, Epsa. Plu and I didn't know our parents were Lesser God worshippers until Izra told us. How can you be sure your mother wasn't one?"

Eyes examined me with a wide variety of expressions, an unnerving collage. But the face I cared about most held only soft curiosity. I took a breath.

"I remember our house was covered in statues and paintings of Rashika. And my mother always told me, 'The Goddess blesses those who obey without question.'"

Past Ru and Plu, Alira's hands thumped the table, and she stared at me wide-eyed. "Your... your mother told you that?"

"Yes," I said, fighting a prickle of unease. "Why? Have you heard it before?"

Alira shook her head with a humorless puff of laughter. "That's a Kalasiki slave mantra. Epsa, was your mother a slave?"

"No." The word shot out, harsh and unthinking. Then I released a breath and attempted a level response. "I mean, I don't think so. We lived in our own house, and my mother only cooked and cleaned for the two of us."

Alira's eyebrows crawled high enough to wrinkle her forehead, and her voice grew quiet. "So... how did she make money?"

I swallowed. "I... I don't know. I only remember..." My mind drifted back to long hours laying on my bed perusing story books while the visitor spent time with my mother. When the stories could no longer hold my interest, I used to gaze up at the ceiling and smile to myself, anticipating the Goddess's blessing.

For the first time, I wondered why I had to hide from the visitor... and what the fuck he was doing with my mother.

The large man with the black beard interrupted my thoughts. "Izra, you said the King has a new plan?"

Izra cleared her throat. "Yes, thank you, Janafir. According to this mercenary, the King wants to attack Lesser God worshippers once more — and boost Rakim's dwindling wealth at the same time. He plans to sell entire villages into slavery."

A ripple of reaction passed over the table. Ravi emitted a whimper, and Plu patted his shoulder. The red-haired man's knuckles cracked as he fisted his hands on the table, and he huffed a breath powerful enough to rustle his flaming locks.

"Let's kill the fucking King tonight. Why don't we just break into the palace and —"

"Slow down, Jek," said Janafir. The dark skin on his bald head glinted in the lantern light as he shifted toward Jek. "If we attack without a plan, we will throw our lives away."

"And if we don't attack, we'll throw away the lives of my family in Busk. Is that what you want, Janafir?"

Janafir laid a large hand on top of one of Jek's equally-large fists, and his voice softened. "We won't let that happen. They won't take any more of your family."

Jek leaned back in his chair with an exasperated sigh, though his pale hand remained under Janafir's dark one. "Then how do we stop them?"

Izra drew in a breath. "Well, first we need to confirm it is happening and find out when."

Zander leaned forward, two fingers aggressively evening the part of his mustache. "But how in Acrador's name will we find that information?"

A short silence.

Then I said, "I'll do it."

"No."

All eyes flicked to Izra. I raised my eyebrows at her, but she refused to look at me. If she valued my input, why was she shutting me down?

"Why not, Izra? I'm technically still on the Royal Guard, so I can probably find out —"

"Epsa, you said yourself the King might torture you."

"Do I know any secrets? Anything that could hurt the Resistance?"

When Izra did not immediately answer, Jek spoke up again. "Well? Does she? Because if not, it seems like we have nothing to lose."

"She doesn't," said Izra, voice sharp, "But she is not expendable."

Jek lips popped open with an explosive breath. "This is about Izkar, isn't it? You still feel guilty for letting the incident —"

"Jek." Janafir clucked his tongue and patted Jek's fist. "Don't. Any good leader wants to keep her people safe."

I shook my head. At the palace, I had always held my tongue during meetings. I would not do that anymore. Maybe the Goddess blessed those who obeyed without question, but people who made their own decisions didn't need any fucking blessings.

"I didn't come here to stay safe," I said. "I came here to take down the King."