When I finally fell asleep, I jerked awake just an hour or so later, rage coursing through my veins and heart pulsing in my ears. Various schemes danced on the ceiling above me, starting with finding Rona and then diverging into a hopelessly tangled web of possibilities. But all paths converged to one nonnegotiable ending.

King Makapu would die.

A large part of me wanted to march straight into his office, draw my blade, and slash it across his throat. I would watch the shock and horror pass over his eyes, watch him keel forward as his knees buckled, watch his last breath shudder out on a whimper. But if I killed him now, the guards would likely kill me, and worse, Makandi would take his place as King, continuing the cycle. If I wanted a real shift in power, I needed support.

I needed to join Rashika's Resistance.

At sunrise, I swung up onto a speckled mare and set off towards Pim's house. I distantly registered the passing scenery and crunch of brown grass under hooves as I plotted my next course of action. The only place I knew to find Izra was the Coupling. Could I really feign loyalty for six more days? And where would I hide Rona until then?

Within twenty minutes, I pulled up on the reins in front of a dilapidated cottage on a sloping hill. I strode toward the door, but I stopped before touching the handle. Pim had swung the door open and swept out an arm as though welcoming a guest at a grand ball, but when he followed me, he had to shimmy sideways and duck through the diminutive doorframe.

Oh, Pim.

I choked back a rising sob and tugged the door open. A tidy kitchen greeted me, undecorated but purposeful. An array of pots, pans, and utensils hung above the stove. Two large wooden chairs flanked a clunky wooden table. But unlike my previous two visits, dusty footprints now tracked through the kitchen, most leading to a door sequestered by a dangling hacked-apart padlock.

The padlock clunked against the wood as I pushed open the door. The sunlight behind spilled into the dark room, illuminating statues of silver, gold, bronze, and obsidian. A giant silver Lord Acrador stretched across half of the back wall, his rigid V-smile contrasting the round swell of his belly and the fluid curves of his four arms. The two-headed cat, Goddess Valavira, prowled near the entrance. Several others scattered the floor, howling, lurching, and fluttering in discord. Paintings cluttered the walls, depicting the statues in front of them.

And a gold Goddess Rashika splayed palms in the corner of the room, welcoming the chaos.

You were right, Pim, I wanted to tell him. You can swear fealty to Goddess Rashika and still worship the Lesser Gods. You can fight to defend Najila and still love a Trogolese child.

Rona. I needed to find Rona.

For Pim.

I paced around the room, hunting for a hidden nook or a sign of disturbance, but I could not even find any tiny footprints in the dust that settled between the bold statues. When I exited the room, I explored the granite bathroom and the small bedroom devoured entirely by a lumbering bed frame. A small closet revealed only a broom and a few extra-large crinkled tunics and trousers.

Where had Rona slept? And where could she be hiding now?

I slipped out of the house and picked my way around the perimeter, stopping to rustle bushes, peek under stray boards, and poke at rabbit holes in the ground. She's tiny. But even someone so tiny could not disappear entirely.

Perhaps the King had already killed her, too.

I quashed the thought and resumed the search, circling a larger perimeter around the home. With every shifting shadow behind a tree, my breath caught. With every scuttling rabbit and flutter of leaves across empty ground, my heart sank.

After two hours, I returned to my horse. She cantered back toward the palace with a bounce in her step, indifferent to the rigid grasp on the reins and the weight in my heart.

I dismounted at the palace entrance, and one of the five posted guards looped a hand through the horse reins as I strode up the steps. Just before I reached the arched entrance, one of the doors swung open, and a short, broad-shouldered man nearly collided with me.

Pamil.

We both lurched back a step and blinked at each other for a moment before my eyes drifted down to the shiny gold badge pinned to his uniform.

Head of the Royal Guard.

My stomach curdled with disgust, but I only raised my eyebrows. "Well, that's new."

Pamil fidgeted with the badge and ran his tongue over his lower lip. "I understand if you are upset."

I forced a nonchalant shrug, trying to clamp down on the shaking of my fingers. "No, I'm just as impressed as the King. Not just anyone would be able to turn in such a good friend."

His Adam's apple bobbed as he shook his head. "Espa, he worshipped Lesser Gods."

I inhaled a slow breath to cool the flaming rage in my chest, but the air only fanned the flames. The urge to watch him die like Pim had nearly consumed me, but I knew this was neither the time nor the place. I clasped my hands behind my back to hide the rageful tremor.

"So I have seen. Thank the Goddess he's not worshipping anything anymore."

He released a pained breath. "I'm not happy about this, either."

"Right." My eyes flicked the badge and back to his face. "You have made such a brave sacrifice."

"That's not the only reason for the promotion, Epsa. This morning, a group under my leadership captured the lead rebel bitch."

The ground beneath my feet tipped sideways, and I clenched my muscles to remain upright. I realized the King had never asked for my report on Izra when I returned from the Coupling the night before. But how could they have captured her so quickly? How had they managed to take her alive?

"You captured Izra? How?"

He shrugged. "It was easy, really. One of the guards saw her chatting with a boy in the market last week, so we figured the child must be part of Rashika's Resistance. At today's market, we captured the boy and told the crowd we would kill him if Izra did not turn herself in. Sure enough, she fell for it!"

"Fell for it," I repeated numbly. "So you would not have killed the boy?"

Pamil blinked. "I don't see how that matters."

I drew in a breath and let it out slowly, and with the exhale, my lungs shriveled and ribs crunched. All the shining glory of the Royal Guard now faded to a wispy, transparent facade — shimmering blue waters with shark fins gliding just inches below the surface. How had I never seen it before? Pim had died for my blindness.

Was Izra next?

"Is she — has she given you any information yet?"

"Everything is being prepared now. In the morning, we'll get some answers fast."

Then Pamil flashed a smile of straight white teeth.

And my mind conjured the crooked spot in Izra's smile.

I shouldered past Pamil and jerked the door open. The row of Goddess Rashika statues gleamed on my left as I swept past down the entry corridor and popped into the dining room. Then I stopped, indecision and despair swamping my gut. What would I do when I found the King? Beg him to be merciful? Pleas had not saved Pim, and they certainly would not save Izra.

Queen Romalda sat alone on one of the wooden chairs, one trembling hand tilting a vial of sleeping medicine over a chalice. She glanced at me, and the vial quivered, splashing a generous portion of clear liquid into the prak. My old self would have worried about her imbibing so much sleeping medicine so early in the day.

My new self did not care.

"Epsa." She screwed the cap back on the vial and tucked it into the pouch at her hip. "I am sorry about Pim."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," fell from my lips while vile cynicism festered in my mind. No need to pretend now, Romalda. It's too late.

Queen Romalda tipped the chalice to her lips for a swig and then lowered it to the table with jerky, uneven movements. The chalice rang a resonant hum as it settled against the marble surface.

"The King quite liked Pim, you know."

"I'm sure," I said. "He does like those loyal to him."

The Queen breathed a chuckle. "It's not about loyalty, Epsa."

"It's... not?"

She drooped in her chair, head lolling back to settle on the wooden headboard. "Makapu likes whoever he can control."

Then the idea hit me.

I stared at the Queen, no longer seeing the weary lines across her frail face but rather the plan shaping in my own mind. Pleading with the King would get me nowhere. If the King wanted a puppet, a puppet I would be.

I just needed to convince him he still pulled the strings.

I swiveled on my heel and broke into a jog. Five corridors, three turns, and two stairwells later, I knocked at the door of the King's study. When he rumbled a welcome, I pushed the door open, clasped my hands before me, and bowed my head.

"Your Majesty, now that I have seen the evidence for myself, I am deeply sorry for questioning you last night. I can't believe I trusted someone who would display such blatant disrespect for our Goddess."

Head still bowed, I lifted my gaze to watch the King from beneath eyelashes wetted by tears. The King tsked and drew his eyebrows together.

"Epsa, sweet child, it is not your fault. I myself fell for Pim's declaration of fealty to the Goddess supreme."

"I know, Your Majesty. I just feel so..." My voice choked over the words, and my shoulders shuddered. "Betrayed."

His warm bass wrapped me like a satin scarf, drawing tight around my neck. "I know exactly how you feel, child."

I shook my head and sniffled. "I wish I could do more to bring down the Resistance and all of the heathens, Your Majesty. The information I gather from Izra at the Coupling each week is so inadequate, and capturing her would be no better."

The King straightened in his chair, and his eyes held mine for several long seconds. I blinked back my tears and drew my face into an approximation of my former guileless devotion. He rolled his shoulders back and spoke softly.

"Capturing her would be no better?"

"No, Your Majesty. Once the rest of the Resistance found out she was compromised, they would shift their base and change their plans. Most of the information we could force from Izra would soon become obsolete."

He lifted the quill from the jar and tapped the feathered end against the table with a rhythmic swish. "A fair point, but I'm not sure what other option we have."

I sighed, allowing my shoulders to fall with my breath. "I wish I could think of a better alternative, Your Majesty. If only I could do something drastic enough to really gain Izra's trust and earn passage to all of the Resistance's inner workings."

The quill stilled just an inch above the table as the King's gaze locked on mine.

I tilted my head an inch to one side. "Your Majesty?"

He slipped the quill back into the bottle and breathed a laugh, nodding at me. A small smile ticked at the corner of his lips.

"I just might have an idea."