Sora let it sink in for a moment.
Hana turned to her, the moss pressed like a pillow against her face. “Is something wrong?”
Sora sighed. “What’s wrong is Prince Gin and what he’s doing.”
Her sister sat up suddenly. “What are you talking about?”
This was it. Sora was about to reveal that she’d broken free of the Dragon Prince’s spell. Instinctively, she sat up too and began to reach for her weapons, anticipating a fight.
But then she looked at Hana. The sweet little tenderfoot had been there only minutes ago, asking for their bedtime story. She wasn’t a ryuu, not entirely. And she had accepted Sora back into her life. Hana was capable of seeing the world in more than black and white. Sora had to do this—for Hana, for herself, and for her parents, who, if they knew their baby was still alive, would do everything in their power to shake her from her misguided faith in the Dragon Prince.
Sora moved her hand away from her knife. “I know Prince Gin is using ryuu magic to take over people’s minds. I’m not sure how I broke free from the hypnosis, and I understand that you may want to bring me to him for the execution I was originally sentenced to, but if I’m to die . . . please give me a minute to explain. It’s all I ask.”
Hana’s shock painted itself in circles across her face—round eyes, open mouth.
The freckles across her nose jerked as she wrinkled it and pulled herself together. She rose to one knee and drew her sword, the short one she wore at her hip. “You’d better talk quickly.”
Sora swallowed and nodded. “Prince Gin is playing god. He’s stealing people’s free will and making them his toys. He wants to start wars, using not only us, but also ordinary Kichonans, as his soldiers. And for what? To pursue the legend of Zomuri and his immortal paradise? Stories are fun to tell, but they’re just that. Stories.”
“No,” Hana said, shaking her head like she was trying to wake from a bad dream. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hana, lives are at stake, for a mythological reward that either doesn’t exist or is impossible to attain. I know Prince Gin raised you, and you helped to build this army, but it’s not too late to change your mind, to leave the sky like some constellations do.”
That was how ancient Kichonans had explained stars that inexplicably disappeared. They were the god of night’s children, making the choice to leave their father to return to their mothers on earth.
Her sister pointed her sword at Sora’s chest. “No. Prince Gin wants what’s best for Kichona.” A sob caught in her throat. “That’s what he told us. That’s what he told me.”
Her blade wavered. Sora inched closer and slowly reached over to Hana’s hand. Her fingers closed over Hana’s.
“I’m going back to the Citadel,” Sora said gently. “Come with me. We’ll defend our right to possess our own minds, and the peaceful way of life that Kichonans have had for centuries.”
“But Prince Gin promised us more,” Hana said, dropping her arm by her side.
Sora could see the wanting in her sister’s eyes. Hana had grown up in an impoverished camp for exiles, in the rough mountains of Shinowana. To her, life was an injustice that needed to be corrected. And what the Dragon Prince promised must really seem like heaven on earth.
“Hana, you’re home,” Sora said. “This is a blessed kingdom, with plentiful harvests, joyful traditions, and friends and family. It may not be Zomuri’s Evermore, but it’s real. Come with me.”
Her sister looked at the outline of the Citadel and Rose Palace on the hilly horizon beyond that.
“Sora . . . I love you.”
“I love you too.” Her heart soared like a nightingale taking flight.
Hana raised her sword again.
Sora tumbled backward on the moss. She scrambled for her own blade, but Hana had her sword point at Sora’s throat.
“I love you,” Hana began again, focused intensely on Sora’s eyes, “and that’s why, if you want to leave, I won’t stop you. But I won’t come with you, because my place is here. And if you go . . . it will be the end of us. For good this time.”
Sora’s nightingale heart plummeted from its height, wings broken.
“But—”
“My decision is made,” Hana said. “Now it’s up to you.” She held Sora’s gaze.
It was an impossible choice.
At the same time, there was no choice. Sora couldn’t stay with the ryuu and fight for Prince Gin. She had to put the kingdom first. She had to defend the possession of their own wills, their lives.
Even if it meant losing Hana. Again.
Sora’s lungs constricted. Her breaths came in short, tight gasps. Then she couldn’t breathe at all.
But Hana seemed to understand what the conclusion was. She nodded sadly at Sora, sheathed her sword, and walked away.
And Sora cried.
Chapter Fifty-Five
The tenderfoots were evacuated from the Citadel the same evening, and the Council called a meeting of all the remaining taigas. There were more than usual, for many taigas had been summoned from their posts around Kichona to the Imperial City.
The sound of wine-barrel drums filled the amphitheater as taigas filed in, finding places to sit on the arced benches carved into the grassy knoll. The commander and the rest of the councilmembers stood in the center of the black stage. Daemon and Broomstick settled into the back row with the rest of the Level 12s.
When everyone had sat down, Glass Lady stepped forward and said, “Thank you all for coming. As you know, the Dragon Prince is approaching with his army. They wield formidable magic different from ours and intend to finish what they started with the Blood Rift ten years ago. Not only that, but the Dragon Prince is also actively recruiting taigas to his side, using a powerful form of hypnosis. We must be prepared to use everything we have to fight them.”
A taiga warrior in the front row rose and bowed to indicate that he had a question.
Glass Lady nodded at him.
“Commander, can you tell us more about their magic?” he shouted so the entire amphitheater could hear.
“I think the one best suited to answer your question would be a taiga who has actually witnessed what the ryuu can do.” She found Daemon in the audience. “Wolf or Broomstick, would you brief everyone?”
This was so unexpected, Daemon’s nerves hardly had time to twitch. But Broomstick was actually twitching, so Daemon would have to be the one to address the audience. He stood from the bench and hurried to the stage, taking the steps in a single bound. He bowed deeply to each councilmember before turning to the crowd.
Stars, there are a lot of people, he thought, his nerves finally catching up. He clasped his hands together behind his back to still the jittering, hoping the gesture came across as confident military poise rather than what it really was—an apprentice not used to being the center of attention. That was usually Sora’s job.
This is for her as much as it is for Kichona. Daemon took a deep breath, enough to calm himself so he could speak, and began.
His voice carried through the cold night air. He told the taigas about the green particles of magic and how the ryuu could control them without mudras or chanted spells. He told them about the initiation ceremony, with Prince Gin giving new recruits Sight and the ryuu shoving them off the roof. He told them about the fearsome powers that the ryuu displayed, each one with a different talent far beyond what taigas could do.