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Not the queen, insists the demon in my mind. She is too strong. Take the king instead.

“But—”

The king.

There’s no time to argue. “I have your promise?”

Immortals are bound to their promises, and the demon plucks a near-invisible red string from behind my neck with a single claw and loops it around our hands. A piece of my soul, to seal the oath.

With that, the deal is struck, and all that’s left is to make my victory look convincing. I twirl my spear and stab its blade between the demon’s eyes.

The demon gurgles, foam rippling from its mouth. Its legs collapse underneath me, and hooves skid as the rest of it falls.

I catch my breath, keeping to the fence’s shadow and out of the blistering sun. Sweat stings the cuts on my skin, and my clothes cling to me, slick with mucus and blood.

“I’ve won!” I shout, raising my spear in triumph while the crowd cheers.

Then, as fast as I can, I act. From afar, it’ll look like I’m impaling the demon by the throat. But really, I’m hacking at its collar. With all my strength, I stab. Worms and smoke peel out of the demon’s neck, and I mutter a silent apology to it before I apply more brutal force.

At last, the chain breaks.

Onto my back, utters the demon, whose wounds are already healing. Quickly.

I don’t waste a second, and together we leap high, bounding across the arena. Meguh’s shouting, the spectators are fleeing. Chaos is in bloom, and the demon loves it.

I ready my spear as we charge toward the gilded pavilion. For a fraction of a second I aim at Angma, not the king. But the demon is right. I have a chance to slay an enemy; I must not waste it on the one that cannot be killed by sword or spear.

One chance, one throw.

As we draw closer, I think of the story Angma told me: of the soldier who won Ishirya’s love. That soldier was Meguh. I wonder what he was like, if he was cruel to begin with or if his years living with a demon warped him into the monster he is. But I don’t wonder too long.

I launch my weapon into the air. Loaded with years of hatred, it flies straight and true—and pierces Meguh in the heart.

Just like I’ve dreamed for years, he stumbles, already white with shock. Time brakes, and every memory I have of Meguh comes flooding back. The young elephant, the vipers, all the creatures he’s ever killed and tortured: avenged. All the terror he’s brought into my sister’s life—and mine: avenged. My only regret is that his agony will be quick, but I am a smart hunter, not an indulgent one. Dead is dead.

My spear juts out of his chest, and death claims him midbreath. The moonstone around his neck pools red with his blood.

He’s the first man I’ve ever killed.

“Get her!” Angma screams.

The demon and I don’t wait. We leap over the barricades.

A hundred bowstrings twang to life. The air tenses, and I glance behind my shoulder, expecting to find a wave of arrows arcing after us. But my gaze lands on a hulking blue-green figure ramming past the arena gates.

There is gold in Hokzuh’s eyes as his wings unfold, casting a wide silhouette over the cliffs and stone teeth.

For the first time, I am afraid of him. I know without a doubt that he is after us, sent to get revenge. And he will not stop until I am dead.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The Kumala Sea sounds like thunder. Or maybe that’s just my heart. As we race away from the arena, the waters thrash against the cliffs, and I hardly breathe until we are bounding over land once more.

We make it to the menagerie, and the demon tosses me off its back. The red string around its claw and my hand dissolves into the air. Without so much as a goodbye, the demon bounds away, and it’s gone in two blinks.

I hurry past the cages, and I can’t help but wonder if one was meant for me.

I creep past three sentries guarding a leopard. It’s moaning with hunger, too weak to even flex its jaws. The guards laugh and poke it with a dry stalk of bamboo. There’s a piece of meat skewered in the middle of the stick, tauntingly out of reach.