Natesa presses a finger to her lips to shush me. “We don’t have long. You have to show me the way to the sick tent.”

More bhuta guards are flung back by the rajah’s power. When no more Janardanians charge him, the rajah raises his arms. “My army! Come out from hiding!”

The men gradually leave their tents. Natesa unburies me faster, releasing my shoulder. I pull my arm out and help her dig out my other side.

“My good people,” Rajah Tarek calls. “Sultan Kuval sought to betray us. Prince Ashwin learned of his deceit and called upon the gods before our enemies infiltrated our city and claimed our homes. Anu has seen your suffering. He sent me back in my previous form and bestowed upon me the power to avenge you.”

“He lies,” Natesa whispers. “Prince Ashwin unleashed the Voider, and he came as the rajah.”

“Impossible,” I say. The man before us is a demon? He looks exactly like Rajah Tarek. But Natesa’s assessment must be true. That thing’s power is not of this world.

“We will march on Vanhi, and I will lead you,” the demon rajah continues. “But we will not leave the land of our enemies until our wrongs have been righted. Janardan has taken advantage of our weakness. Now is the time to rise up in strength of numbers. We will bring down Iresh, and then we will march upon Vanhi stronger than before!”

Our men listen in stunned rapture. The Voider’s strategy is clever but horrible. He will topple Iresh and then cannibalize the city to supply his army with food, weapons, and more soldiers. Once preparations are finished, the demon rajah will target Hastin.

Natesa digs my other arm free. She tugs while I push, and together we liberate me from the pit. I brace against the doorway, my legs stiff from disuse. Manas stands at the front of the crowd, captivated by the return of our ruler.

“Surrender,” the Voider yells to our captors, “and the gods will spare you.”

A Galer throws a wind at the demon rajah. He dissipates the gust with a blast of blue fire. The burning ball throws the guard down. Those around him drop their weapons and raise their hands in the air. In a matter of minutes, the demon rajah has defeated guards that have held us captive for days. An ominous feeling inside me spreads.

“Natesa,” I say quietly, “where is Kali?” I heard the cheers from the amphitheater as the vizier said but have not heard the outcome of the tournament.

“She won the duel, but she’s injured. She’s on the way to the riverfront. A boat is waiting to take us to Lestari. I’ll bring Yatin. Can you get Prince Ashwin? Opal and Rohan will arrive soon to help. They may already be here.”

I waiver, debating whether or not the prince is worth the risk. Prince Ashwin released a demon. He deserves to suffer the fullness of his consequences.

“Captain!” Natesa snaps. “I don’t know if you’re jealous of Kalinda and Prince Ashwin or if you have another reason to abandon your ruler, but you’re an imperial soldier.”

“I know what I am.” And I am certain that this is my godly purpose. I am a soldier. I may not have been born with powers that enable me to knock down walls or heal people, but I still have the gods on my side.

“Then do your duty.” Natesa points at the Voider. “That is not our rajah. Ashwin is.”

Before I can reply, a blast of blue fire brightens the sky. We flinch away from the explosion, and then I peer around the corner. The men have broken into the guardhouse.

“The sick tents are on the other side of the quad,” I say. “You should go. The men will break into the small armory in the vizier’s study and soon be armed.”

“Get the prince. We’ll meet at the waterfront. And, Captain? Kalinda will burn me alive if she finds out I left you, so don’t die.” With a half-joking grin, Natesa slips out of the hut.

Men run out of the guardhouse armed and wearing Tarachand soldier jackets they must have found inside. The demon rajah and Prince Ashwin wait at the gate for the soldiers to fall into formation. On the other side of the exit, bhuta guards gather to defend their homeland. I remain out of sight until the Voider’s back is turned, and then I dart across the yard and slip inside the guardhouse.

The vizier’s study has been ransacked. The last weapon left is the decorative khanda hanging on the wall above the desk. I take down the sword and spot one last uniform on the floor. I hold up the bloodred jacket with the black scorpion emblem on the front. This is not how I envisioned I would earn back my uniform, but I tug it on. The familiar fit is like a second skin.

I peer out the door. The men are ready to march out. The Voider leads the newly armed ranks through the open gate and blasts the bhuta guards with blue fire. They fall back, and our soldiers cut down the remaining Janardanian guards at the barricade around the civilian camp.

The Voider destroys the gate to the second compound and addresses the shaken refugees. “I have returned to free my people. Come join our crusade against our enemies!” The demon rajah blows open the main armory door with his powers. The people descend on the weapons like ants on ripe fruit.

A handful of men have stayed behind in camp to round up the Janardanian soldiers who surrendered. They hold them captive across from the guardhouse.

Gods above. Opal and Rohan are crouched at the back of the group of prisoners.

I cross camp with short, official strides and wave Opal and Rohan forward. “You two come with me.” One of my men raises his arm to halt me, but I beckon them again. “These Galers were personal guards to Prince Ashwin. He wishes to discipline them himself.”

The guard lets Rohan and Opal pass. I pretend I am leading them to the prince. Once we are out of the gate, I urge the Galers into a run. We scurry around the corner of the north wall and duck into the jungle. We sink low in the bushes, my heart thudding against my ribs.

Opal listens for pursuers. “I don’t think anyone saw us.”

“We need to get to the riverboat.” I will think of how to sneak past the army once everyone is accounted for. “Where are my brother and mother?”

“We thought you knew,” Rohan answers. “The sultan closed the border two days ago. Brac and Mathura haven’t crossed into Janardan.”

They aren’t here. I am struck by an unsatisfactory blend of relief and worry. “Can you take your wing flyers and find them?”

Rohan sets his chin. “We want to stay and fight.”

“You look like you’ve had enough of that,” I remark of his injured face. “Please. I need your help.”

Rohan starts to protest, but Opal speaks right over him. “I’ll find your family. Rohan will stay with you. My wing flyer is on the other side of the civilian camp—”

She cuts off, and then both she and Rohan dunk into the ground cover.

“Captain?” Manas calls from beyond the tree line. I unbend and face him. The underbrush conceals Rohan and Opal near my feet. “Where did the prisoners go?”

“What prisoners?” I reply.

“The palace guards. I saw you exit the gate and come here with them.” Manas lowers his hand to his khanda and starts cautiously into the trees.

“Oh, those prisoners. They ran off that way.” I point at a bamboo thicket that would be nearly impossible to traverse through.

Manas stops a handful of steps out, near Rohan. “How did they escape?”

“They were Galers. They overpowered me.”

Manas pulls his sword. “They were Kalinda’s guards. You let them go.”

“How do you know Opal and Rohan were guarding Kali?”

“I . . . I heard about it,” Manas stammers.

He could only have heard about them from someone who was in and out of our compound. None of the prisoners were, so the messenger had to have been a guard or . . . The truth rattles me. “You’re Vizier Gyan’s informer.”

Guilt radiates from Manas, but he shuts it down with hardened pride. “Hastin let me live to serve as his informant. He sent me to tell the vizier what I knew about you and Kalinda.” I lock my jaw against a string of curses. Manas jabs his sword at the air between us. “Don’t look at me that way. You’re the traitor. You fell in love with a filthy bhuta.”

“This isn’t about bhutas. Vizier Gyan found the Zhaleh. That thing that came back to free us isn’t Rajah Tarek; it’s a demon.”

“All you do is lie!” Manas slashes at me. I block his khanda with my ornamental sword, but my dull blade bows. He strikes again, hacking my sword off in the middle.

I throw the useless stub away and step back from Rohan, closer to Opal. They both remain down. Neither of them can summon their winds without revealing our presence to the army beyond the trees.

“I am not lying,” I say to Manas. “You need to trust me.”

“No.” Hatred dispels all traces of the boy who was once my friend. “You were my captain. You didn’t just betray the rajah; you betrayed me too.”

Manas raises his khanda to stab at me. Opal lunges from the undergrowth and grabs his leg. He tries to kick her off, but Rohan rises from the ferns and punches Manas in the back. Manas whirls on Rohan and aims his blade at his chest.

As I move to intervene, Manas jerks and then goes still. Rohan scrambles away, and Manas drops his sword. He clutches at his throat, choking. Opal pulled up his pant leg and pressed her hand against his skin.

Manas’s eyes bulge, his lips bobbing for air. I remember the agony of having the sky squeezed from my lungs.

“Opal, stop,” I say. She continues to hold on. Manas falls beside her, bucking on the ground. I fortify my voice. “I said enough.”

She lets go and shrinks away from what she has done. Manas claws at the ground, panting. I pick up his sword. He rolls onto his back, too weak to run.

“I’m letting these Galers go,” I say.

Manas scrunches his face and spits at Opal. “Dirty demon.”

Tears shine in her eyes. She regrets winnowing him, but Manas would kill her without remorse.

I hit him in the head with the hilt of his sword, and he droops into the dirt, passed out.