He proceeded through the opening in the bushes and into the maze. Someone’s swallow-call whistled from the field as they jogged around the bend.

“Do you hear the birdies, Zaeth?” Wekesa repeated the call and ran up the path, his arms draped lazily over the motumbha stick across his shoulders. “They’re singing a certain prisoner is missing. He flew away.” His fingertips flitted as he barged in front of Zaethan. “Flew like Owàa in the morning, yeah?”

“Kàchà kocho.” Zaethan’s thumb wiped away a bead of perspiration from the match. “Birds fly. If you’d borrowed his wings, you might’ve won. Now, get to your post.” His boot shifted off the gravel path. “That was an order.”

His windpipe collapsed when Wekesa sidestepped, hooked his rod over Zaethan’s head, and propelled them behind a hedge, forcing a gulp of greenery down his throat.

“I played your game.” Wekesa’s spit sprinkled the back of Zaethan’s spine. “Well, this is mine. You took from me, yeah? Now, I’m taking it all!”

“Using which prisoner?” Zaethan’s snicker made it harder to breath. “You failed,” he taunted, wedging a hand between the stick and his throat. “Uni, nothing to show the tribes but dead cross-castes.” He used the little space to twist forward, wrap his arm around, and pound his knuckle into Wekesa’s kidney. “Return to the valley,” he wheezed, “take your pryde, leave the city, and I won’t tell the commander what you’ve done.”

Bent over, Wekesa laughed cruelly. “But Zaeth,” his eyes rounded in mock horror, “what about all those helpless roach cubs? You tested Jwona. Freed their murderer.”

Zaethan’s fist collided with Wekesa’s mouth. Blood foamed around the other alpha’s teeth as he smiled wildly. Standing over his rival, Zaethan stepped away, though every fiber of his being wished to beat Wekesa to within an inch of his life.

“Do it…I attacked my alpha.” Wekesa sneered, dripping pink saliva. “We both know who he’ll punish.”

Panting, Zaethan dipped down and picked up the motumbha sticks strewn in the grass. “You’ve taken back plenty,” he huffed, electing to walk away. “Enough.”

Zaethan unraveled the blue cord and chucked it to the ground. As he exited the hedge maze, that swallow song echoed through the exterior garden once again, partnered by a faraway promise.

“Do you hear the birdie, Zaeth? I’m going to take everything.”

“Ano, ano. That’s not how he’s doing it.”

The four Darakaians huddled in Zaethan’s snug office, Kumo barely squeezed between the desk and Jabari. He fidgeted awkwardly to avoid the corner of the wood. Its orientation was a little too intimate for the beta’s liking.

“Ah, see.” Zahra punched his bicep and gestured to the topmost map on the desk. “I told you, uni, those tunnels are shut up. Packed full of rock and shtàka.”

Zaethan leaned back on the hind legs of his chair, letting his third harass Kumo while he considered an alternative.

“He has to have help,” he said finally, throwing up his hands and bringing the front legs to the floorboards. “Wekesa can’t be everywhere, yeah? He was in Fahime when you found the first body.”

“And what about Arune, and that yancy’s estate maid?” Zahra added, hand on her hip. The muscles in her arm flexed when she reached for a map underneath the stack.

“Arune could be an outlier.” Zaethan bounced his heel. “Ira said it resembled an animal attack. Maybe a coincidence.”

“Coincidence hillman trap, Alpha Zà.” Jabari’s coils swung back and forth. “Never trap a trick, ano. Trick trap the hillman or kakk keep a calling.”

Kumo glared at Jabari. “I hear kakk calling now.”

The mountaineer cautiously pointed to the map. “Because you hillman, being trapped by the trick.”

“Jabari’s right,” Zaethan interjected before someone received a black eye. “Even if he enlisted help, the killings multiplied once he arrived. Depths, he all but admitted it!”

“Alpha Zà.” Zahra leaned against the desktop and leveled with him. “He tell you plain? We know your shared past. What if it’s a distraction, yeah? Let you believe it’s him, distract you while he rallies support for a challenge.”

Kumo rubbed his neck, then dropped his arm. “Makes sense, Ahoté.”

“Wekesa said that more children will die,” Zaethan articulated each syllable, “because we let his thief escape. He looked me right in the eyes, and said they’d die for it.”

Zahra shared a glance with Kumo. Her brow lifted, sending creases across the sheen of her smooth scalp, disrupting some of the inked Andwele markings. “All right, then. Uni zà.”

Pinned against the door jamb, Jabari watched the older three warriors deliberate. Zaethan sighed and ripped a different map off the floor, unrolled it, and massaged his temples.

“You’ve watched him for weeks, Zahra. Even if he walked straight out the gate into Marketown, he couldn’t come back the same way.” Zaethan waved to the web of streets in his lap. “Not after that. Not after what he does to them.”

“Wekesa goes where we all go,” she replied. “The guard house, his suite, the hall, kitchens, the war room—” She trailed off as the parchment crunched in his hands.

“The sentries on our payroll don’t know anything, either.” Kumo scowled. “Even threw in a couple extra dromas. Nothing.”

Hammering at the door caused Jabari to jump. Zaethan nodded for him to permit the newcomer. Tripping into the already crowded room, Takoda nudged Jabari into the hall to fit in front of the desk.

“We have it, Alpha Zà!” He beat the surface of the desk and announced, “I found how he’s sneaking past us! Eh.” Takoda poked his thumb at Zahra and stood taller. “Past you, at least.”

Zaethan’s third whacked Takoda upside the head. “Owàamo to you, too, cocky cub-rub.”

Takoda recovered and flipped through the papers, rotating a blueprint of the palace main. His index finger glided over the lower level and tapped the kitchens fervently.

“Here.” He flopped his braids over, bending down. “It’s an unlocked access to the sewer. Kitchen hardly touches it, yeah? Nasty, kakka-shtàka sludge canal, but the lock is rusted. Never fixed.”

Zaethan chewed the inside of his cheek and peered at Takoda. “How’d you learn this?”

“Eh…” A rosy blush swept his forehead, and he grinned sheepishly. “So, there’s this yaya in the pantry, and she was giving me a, uh…” Takoda cleared his throat. “…a tour.”