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MIKAIL

CITY OF JEUL, GAYA

T he long tunnel led us to carved stone stairs that ended in another hollowed-out tree.

A few steps later, we left the sacred woods behind and walked onto the Perimeter Road, the main roadway that circles the Gayan coast. I knew exactly where the road would be because I used to study maps of Gaya when I would get homesick as a boy.

“You don’t mind that I look?” I asked Ailor as I pored over his war maps.

“It is your home,” he said. “One day, you’ll return again, Mikail—you should know it.” He rested a warm hand on my shoulder.

“But you’re my home as well,” I said.

He smiled, true joy shining in his brown eyes. “Then you will always have two.”

I take a breath as we ride into Jeul. I don’t know where Ailor is, and I’m not sure what awaits me in the old capital.

We stopped overnight in the small town of Bramble. We were worn out from the day of walking, and we needed horses for the remainder of the trip. After a hot meal and a good night’s sleep, I felt ready, but as we approach the ancient city walls of Jeul, I’m suddenly not as certain.

It’s not that I doubt my ability to murder the governor, and he certainly has it coming—Gaya has suffered under his long rule, the people riddled with addiction, poverty, and constantly at the mercy of Yusanian soldiers.

No, it’s that I’m uncertain of how the Gayan people will react.

Will my own people stand by me? Or will they be like the innkeeper in Berm? Do I have a home anywhere?

I grip the reins and hang my head. I’ve dealt with more than anyone should endure, and I have survived it, but I don’t know that I could handle the heartbreak of losing Gaya—of Gambria being right.

“We’re with you,” Aeri says, looking over at me.

“To the bloody end,” Sora adds.

Royo nods, too.

Then I remember that this is home. Right where I am now, wherever the three of them are.

I lift my chin as we pass the fortress. The soldiers are the scourge of the island.

Not all the king’s guard went to the war of the realms, but the fort is barely manned.

My estimate is that they left a skeleton crew of five hundred, maybe a thousand soldiers for the whole island, and most oversee the laoli production on the northern end.

Those numbers would be easily overwhelmed if the people are with us.

Are they?

I look around as we pass through the city gate. It’s both familiar and not. I grew up not in Jeul but a small village outside of it. The old capital is the largest city on the island, and it could rival Umbria or Quu with its size and bustling feel.

We’re not far inside Jeul when there, in the town square, are our faces.

An enormous wanted poster hangs in the center, featuring life-size drawings of the three of us and Euyn.

But I barely notice it because up on the hill, visible from any part of the city, is Rose Palace.

The colonnaded white marble marvel was built by Alta and was the ancestral home of the Miats.

My house, occupied by usurpers for years.

I spur my horse, and we take the sun-brick streets toward Keen Hill.

“So what now? Are we knocking on the door?” Royo asks, riding beside me.

“Don’t be silly,” I say. “I’m going to make a scene in the backyard until the governor comes out to face me.”

“Oh good,” he says, running a hand down his face.

None of them like the idea, but I do have a plan. Keen Hill is steep. It’s not nearly as large as Oligarch Mountain, but it’s the highest point in the middle of the city, visible from any part of Jeul. And I will use that.

As I said to Royo, we can’t just go to the front door of the palace.

The grounds are guarded and patrolled like any of the counts’ villas.

There have been numerous threats on the governor’s life over the last nineteen years.

The city never warmed to the idea of a Yusanian living in the royal palace.

Yet Gambria was told differently…allegedly.

Outside Rose Palace are the most beautiful terraced gardens in the world, and in the middle is the Fountain of Life. That’s where we need to go.

We ride until we reach the groundskeeper’s cottage near the base of the hill. Although all of Keen is technically palatial grounds, this area shouldn’t be monitored much, as it’s for workers and servants. We dismount and tie up the horses.

I’ve just tightened the knot when an older Gayan man comes around the nearest hedge. He’s probably sixty years old, clean-shaven, and wearing trousers with a white shirt. He has wrinkles and freckles on his brown skin.

“Who goes there?” he says.

“Fugitives from Yusanian justice,” I say in Gayan.

It’s a gamble. He could call out an alarm, but I have to know what he—what the people—thinks of Yusan. Especially those old enough to remember the Festival of Blood.

“There is no such thing as Yusanian justice,” he says. He stops and squints an eye at me. Recognition flashes after a moment. He knows me from the wanted poster. “What do you want here, son?”

“I’m going to kill the governor and free this island.” I hold my breath, waiting for his response.

“Very well. Be on your way, then,” he says with a nod.

Shock and joy fill my chest. I put my hands to my forehead. “Thank you, Uncle.”

Aeri tilts her head, confused, but I gesture to the three of them, and we hurry up the base of the terraced gardens, scaling the four-foot retaining walls.

We’ve climbed two levels when footsteps approach.

I put out my arm, and we stop behind a tall hedge.

Readiness fills my limbs, my body preparing for the kill, but the patrolman continues down the path.

We could take him out easily, but I don’t want to murder Gayans unless I have to, and I don’t want to kill anyone before I get to the fountain.

We scale another level. Seconds later, we all have to dive down behind flower bushes. I mistimed it, and a guard walking his patrol came too close. I breathe in the floral-and-dirt smell, my hand on the hilt of my sword, waiting, but his boots stomp past us.

My heart drums steadily with the anticipation, but I can’t just murder the governor with my sword.

I have to make a scene of it. I must let this island know that the Miats survived.

It would be easier if I had the real Flaming Sword.

If I had the Gayan relic, I could send fire arcing over the palace.

I grind my teeth at another part of our identity stripped away by Yusan.

I will pry the relic from Joon’s dead body before this is all over. I swear and I vow it.

Enough on that for now, though. I have the Water Scepter, and that is enough.

Once the next guard is far enough away, we run to the spring of Alta. I take the Water Scepter out of the case. The golden staff vibrates in my palm, calling to my mind, eager for my command.

I’m ready.