Ryzek pointed to the side of the room.

"Stand over there and don't say a word," he said. "I brought you here to watch what happens when you don't keep your servants under control."

I was shivering, burning, and I looked like I was standing under a canopy of vines, marked by their shadows. I stumbled to the side of the room, my arms clutched tightly around me. I heard Ryzek's order to enter.

The huge doors at the other end of the room opened. Vas walked in first, armored, his shoulders back. Behind him, flanked by soldiers, was the sagging, stumbling form of Akos Kereseth. Half his face was covered in blood, coming from a gash in his eyebrow. His face was swollen, his lip split. Beaten already, but then, he had gotten good at taking a beating.

Behind him walked Eijeh-also bleeding and beaten, but more than that . . . vacant. His face was rough with a patchy beard, and he was gaunt, a shred of the young man I had seen from my hidden vantage point two seasons ago.

I could hear Akos breathing from where I stood, sputtering. But he straightened at the sight of my brother.

"My, my, aren't you a sight," Ryzek said, descending the steps slowly. "How far did he get, Vas? Past the fence?"

"Not even," Vas said. "Got him in the kitchens, coming out of the tunnels."

"Well, let me clarify your miscalculation, for future reference, Kereseth," Ryzek said. "Just because my late mother enjoyed the old-fashioned appearance of this house doesn't mean that I didn't outfit my home with the most advanced security measures possible after her passing. Including motion sensors around secure rooms, such as your brother's."

"Why are you keeping him here?" Akos said through gritted teeth. "Does he even have a currentgift? Or have you starved it out of him?"

Vas-casually, lazily-backhanded Akos. Akos crumpled, clutching his cheek.

"Akos," Eijeh said. His voice was like a light touch. "Don't."

"Why don't you tell him, Eijeh?" Ryzek said. "Have you developed a currentgift?"

Akos peered past his fingers at his brother. Eijeh closed his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again, nodded.

"Rising oracle," Akos murmured in Shotet. At first I didn't know what he meant-it was not a phrase we used. But Thuvhesit had different words for all three oracles-one falling, close to retiring; one sitting, prophesying from the temple; and one rising, coming into the fullness of his or her power.

"You would be correct in assuming that I have not been able to make him use his gift for my benefit," Ryzek said. "So instead, I intend to take it."

"Take it?" Akos said, echoing my own thoughts.

Ryzek stepped closer to Akos and crouched in front of him, his elbows balanced on his knees.

"Do you know what my currentgift is?" he said lightly.

Akos didn't answer.

"Tell him about it, Cyra dear," Ryzek said, jerking his head toward me. "You are intimately acquainted with it."

Akos, bracing himself with one hand, lifted his eyes to mine. There were tears mixed with the blood on his face.

"My brother can trade memories," I said. I sounded empty. Felt like it, too. "He gives you one of his, and takes one of yours in return."

Akos went still.

"A person's gift proceeds from who they are," Ryzek said. "And who they are is what their pasts have made them. Take a person's memories, and you take the things that formed them. You take their gift. And at last . . ." Ryzek ran his finger down the side of Akos's face, collecting blood. He rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger, examining it. "At last, I will not have to rely on another to tell me the future."

Akos threw himself at Ryzek, moving fast to give the soldiers the slip, his hands outstretched. He pressed his thumb hard into the side of Ryzek's throat, pinning his right arm with the other, teeth bared. Animal.

Vas was on top of him in seconds, yanking him by the back of his shirt and punching him hard in the ribs. When Akos was flat on his back, Vas pressed a shoe to his throat, and raised his eyebrows.

"One of my soldiers did this to you once," Vas said. "Before I killed your father. It seemed to be effective then. Stay still or I will crush your trachea."

Akos twitched, but stopped thrashing. Ryzek picked himself up, massaging his throat and brushing dust from his pants and checking the straps of his armor. Then he approached Eijeh. The soldiers who had walked in with Akos were now flanking Eijeh, each one with a firm grip on one of his arms. As if it was necessary. Eijeh looked so dazed I was surprised he was still awake.

Ryzek lifted both hands, and touched them to Eijeh's head, his eyes focused and hungry. Hungry for escape.

It was not much to watch. Just Ryzek and Eijeh, joined by Ryzek's hands, stares locked, for a long time.

When I first watched Ryzek do this, I was too much of a child to understand what was going on, but I did remember that it had taken only a moment for him to trade one memory. Memories happened in flashes, not as drawn-out as reality, and it seemed strange that something so important, so essential to a person, could disappear so quickly.

Breathless, all I could do now was watch.

When Ryzek released Eijeh, it was with a strange, bewildered look. He stepped back, and looked around like he wasn't sure where he was. Felt his body like he wasn't sure who he was. I wondered if he had thought about what trading his memories away would cost him, or if he had just assumed that he was so potent a personality there was more than enough of him to go around.

Eijeh, meanwhile, looked at the Weapons Hall like he had only just recognized it. Was I just imagining the familiarity in his eyes as they followed the steps up to the platform?

Ryzek nodded to Vas to take his foot from Akos's throat. Vas did. Akos lay still, staring at Ryzek, who crouched beside him again.

"Do you still blush so easily?" Ryzek said softly. "Or was that something you grew out of, eventually?"

Akos's face contorted.

"You will never disrespect me with silly escape plans again," Ryzek said. "And your punishment for this first and only attempt is that I will keep your brother around, taking piece after piece from him until he is no longer someone you wish to rescue."

Akos pressed his forehead to the ground, and closed his eyes.

And no wonder. Eijeh Kereseth was as good as gone.

CHAPTER 13: CYRA.

THAT NIGHT I DIDN'T take a painkiller. I couldn't rely on Akos to make it anymore, after all, and I didn't really trust myself to make it alone yet.

When I returned to my room I found the dagger I had given Akos on my pillow. Left there as a warning, by Ryzek, I assumed. I locked Akos's room from the outside.

It was hard to say whether he wasn't speaking to me, or I wasn't speaking to him. In any case, we didn't exchange words. The Sojourn Festival carried on all around us, and I was called to stand at my brother's side, dark-streaked and silent, at some of the festivities. Akos was always at my back, his occasional touch compulsory, his gaze distant. Every time his skin grazed mine to bring relief, I twitched away at first, all trust gone.

Most of the time I spent at the arena, presiding over challenges at Ryzek's side. Arena challenges-one-on-one, public fights-were a long-standing Shotet tradition, originally intended as a sport to hone our combat skills in the days when we had been weak and abused by almost everyone in the galaxy. Now, during the week of the Sojourn Festival, it was legal to challenge almost anyone you had a grievance with to fight, either until one person surrendered, or until death.

However, a person couldn't challenge someone whose social status-arbitrarily decided by Ryzek, or someone he appointed-exceeded their own. As a result, people often chose to provoke their true enemies by targeting the people around them, friends and loved ones, until the other extended the challenge. As the festival advanced, the fights became bloodier and more deadly.

So I dreamt of death, and death filled my days.

The day after I turned sixteen, the day before we boarded the sojourn ship, and five days after Ryzek began trading memories with Eijeh, Akos Kereseth received the armor he had earned long ago, at the soldier camp.

I had just finished running sprints in the gym, so I was pacing back and forth in my bedroom, catching my breath, sweat dripping down the back of my neck. Vas knocked on the doorframe, a polished armor vest dangling from one of his hands.

"Where's Kereseth?" Vas said.

I took him down the hallway, and unlocked Akos's door. Akos was sitting on his bed, and judging by his unfocused gaze, he was drugged by hushflower, which he now consumed petal by petal, raw. He stashed them in his pockets.

Vas tossed the armor at Akos, who caught it with both hands. He handled it like it might shatter, turning it over and running his fingers over each dark-blue panel.

"It is as much as you earned, I'm told, under Vakrez's teaching last season," Vas said.

"How is my brother?" Akos said, throaty.

"He no longer needs a lock to stay in his room," Vas said. "He stays of his own free will."

"That's not true. It can't be."

"Vas," I said. "Go."

I knew rising tension when I felt it. And I didn't really want to watch whatever happened when it broke.

Vas tilted his head as he regarded me, then bowed slightly, and left.

Akos held the armor up to the light. It was built for him-with adjustable straps to accommodate his inevitable growth, flexibility through the rib cage, extra padding over his stomach, which he always forgot to protect when we trained. There was a sheath built into the right shoulder so he could draw over his head with his left hand. It was a high honor, to wear this kind of armor, especially at such a young age.

"I'm going to lock you in again now," I said.

"Is there any way to undo what Ryzek does?" Akos asked, like he hadn't heard me. He looked like he had lost the strength to stand. I thought of refusing to answer him.

"Short of asking Ryzek nicely to trade the memories back and hoping he's in a giving mood, no."

Akos stood and dropped the armor over his head. When he tried to tighten the first strap over his rib cage, he winced, shaking out his hand. The straps were made of the same material as the rest of it, and they were hard to maneuver. I pinched the strap between my fingers, tugging him toward me. My own fingers were already callused.

I pulled at the strap, working it back and forth until it was pulled tight around his side.

"I didn't mean to involve you," Akos said quietly.

"Oh, don't patronize me," I said tersely. "Manipulating me was a crucial part of your plan. And it's exactly what I expected."

I finished with the straps, and stepped back. Oh, I thought. He was tall-so tall-and strong and armored, the dark blue skin of the creature he had hunted still rich with color. He looked like a Shotet soldier, like someone I could have wanted, if we had found a way to trust each other.

"Fine," Akos said, again in that quiet voice. "I meant to involve you. But I didn't expect to feel bad about it."

I felt choked. I didn't know why. I ignored it.

"And now you want me to help you feel less bad, is that it?" I said. Before he could answer, I walked out, bringing the door closed behind me.

Before Akos and me were the dusty streets of Voa, behind a tall metal fence. A large, shrill crowd waited for us beyond it. Ryzek stepped out of the house with his long, pale arm raised to greet them, and they let out a dissonant cry.

The Sojourn Festival was almost over. Today all the able-bodied and of-age Shotet would board the sojourn ship, and soon after that, we would leave this planet behind.

Vas followed Ryzek out the door, and then, dressed in a clean white shirt and looking more present than I had ever seen him: Eijeh. His shoulders were back, his steps wider, as if for a taller man, his mouth curled at one corner. Eijeh's eyes passed over his brother and scanned the street beyond Noavek manor.

"Eijeh," Akos said, his voice breaking.

Eijeh's face betrayed some recognition, as if he had spotted his brother from a great distance. I turned toward Akos.

"Later," I said harshly, grabbing the front of his armor. I couldn't have him breaking down with all these people watching us. "Not here, not now. Okay?"

As I pulled away, released him, I watched his throat work to swallow. He had a freckle under his jaw, near his ear; I had never seen it before.

His eyes still on Eijeh, Akos nodded.

Ryzek descended the steps, and we all followed him. The sojourn ship shaded us, casting Voa in shadow. Decades of the sojourn had produced the city that surrounded us, a patchwork of old stone structures reinforced with clay and new technology scavenged from other cultures and lands: low buildings with glass spires built on top of them, reflecting images of other planets; dusty, dirt-packed streets with sleek reflective ships gliding above them; street carts selling current-channeling talismans next to carts selling screen implants that could be wedged beneath a person's skin.

That morning, between surges of pain, I had traced and shaded my dark eyes with blue powder, and braided my thick hair. I wore the armor I had earned at the edge of the Divide when I was younger, and the guard around my left forearm.

I looked back at Akos. He was armored, too, of course, with new black boots and a long-sleeved gray shirt that pulled too tight around his forearms. He looked afraid. He had told me that morning, as we walked to the entrance of the manor, that he had never been off-planet before. And then there was Eijeh, changed, walking right in front of us. There was plenty to fear.

As we passed through the gate, I nodded to him, and he released my arm. It was time for my eleventh Procession, and I wanted to make it to the transport vessel on my own strength.

The walk passed in a haze. Shouting, applauding, Ryzek's fingers finding outstretched hands and squeezing. His laugh, my breaths, Akos's trembling hands. Dust in the air, and smoke from cooked food.

I finally made it inside the transport vessel, where Eijeh and Vas were already waiting. Eijeh was adjusting his own straps with the ease of someone who had done it a dozen times before. I pulled Akos toward a seat in the back, wanting to keep him separate from his brother. A great roar sounded from the crowd as Ryzek waved from the doorway.

Just after the hatch closed, Eijeh fell into the straps holding him in his seat, his eyes wide but also blank, like he was staring at something none of the rest of us could see. Ryzek, who had been fastening his own restraints, undid them and sat forward, his face inches from Eijeh's.

"What is it?" Ryzek said.

"A vision of trouble," Eijeh said. "An act of defiance. Public."

"Preventable?" It was almost as if they had had this exact conversation before. Maybe they had.

"Yes, but in this case, you should let it come," Eijeh said, now focusing on Ryzek. "You can use it to your advantage. I have a plan."

Ryzek narrowed his eyes. "Tell me."

"I would, but we have an audience." Eijeh jerked his head toward the back of the vessel, where Akos sat across from me.

"Yes, your brother is an inconvenience, isn't he?" Ryzek clicked his tongue.

Eijeh didn't disagree. He leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes as we launched.

The loading dock of the sojourn ship was one of my favorite places, vast and open, a maze of metal. Before us was a fleet of transport vessels ready to take us to a planet's surface-polished to perfection now, but soon to return streaked with dirt and smoke and rain and stardust, badges of where they had been.