A red string appeared, connecting me to Bandur. Seeing it, I gasped.
“Nothing,” he whispered. Then a haze of smoke lifted from Ammi’s limp form, and he was gone.
Ammi didn’t wake when I shook her, but she was still breathing. Thank the gods for that.
I slammed my fists on the table so hard that the walls shook. Anger swelled in my chest, fury choking me. “I never, never should have brought her with me.”
I tore off my pendant, ignoring the wash of dizziness that came over me, and placed it on the table beside the mirror of truth.
I thought hard of Edan, searching for him to tell him I was going to Lapzur and that he must not come for me. I was going to Lapzur alone.
My blood still pulsating with rage, I picked up the mirror. Then the walls of my room in the inn disappeared, and the glass misted.
Edan.
He sat in meditation, but his eyes flew open before I called his name. At the sight of me, his lips formed a faint smile.
“Maia,” he said softly, slowly lingering on the music of my name.
“I’m not coming to you,” I said abruptly. “I have to go to Lapzur before…” My voice trailed. I didn’t need to finish what I was going to say.
The softness of Edan’s tone vanished. “Let go!”
The edge in his voice startled me. “Don’t use the amulet. The more you rely on its magic, the harder it will become for you to resist turning into a demon.”
“It’s not a demon’s amulet,” I argued. “It’s a pendant, full of Amana’s power. The dresses will help me defeat Bandur.”
“The power of Amana sings through the dresses you have made. But now that power has been exposed to your pledge to Bandur. You must not use it, you must not corrupt its magic. Be strong, xitara. You’re stronger than this.”
My eyes were starting to burn, and I turned away.
It was the truth I’d been afraid to confront—to even think about. Sometimes, when a shadow fell over me, I looked down to see my pendant bathed in darkness, the way it had become when I’d made Emperor Khanujin’s cloak. One day, I feared, it would blacken forever, like the amulets belonging to Bandur and Gyiu’rak.
“You’re already changing, aren’t you?” he said.
The words stung, but I couldn’t deny them. “I summoned you to say goodbye,” I said. “I’m not going to meet you at the temple.”
“I don’t care what you’re becoming, I want to see you.” Even through the cloudiness of the mirror’s glass, his cool blue eyes pierced mine. “Meet me in the forest with the poplar trees. I’ll find you.”
There were hundreds of forests with poplar trees in A’landi, but I knew which one he meant. We’d been happy there, before we had journeyed to Lake Paduan.
“If you won’t come see Master Tsring, at least come for me.”
One last time, I thought, and nodded just before the mirror fogged and the vision of Edan left me. My pendant rattled against the mirror, the crack in its center gleaming.
Sentur’na, Sentur’na, Bandur mocked, his voice creeping into my mind. The shadow of a wolf prowled my walls.
“GO AWAY!” I yelled.
Your enchanter cannot help you. Neither can his master. This is my final caution: come to Lapzur. Now.
“Or what?” I retorted. “You’ll send your ghosts to fetch me?”
Worse, Sentur’na. Worse. I’ll take away everyone who matters to you. Perhaps I will begin with your friend here. Bandur’s shadow eclipsed Ammi’s sleeping figure, a claw stroking her cheek. She has such a sweet and caring disposition…a true friend.
“Leave Ammi alone!” I lunged for my pendant, which flared hot with power.
Bandur’s laugh grew louder and louder, boiling from the walls until I thought I might burst with rage. Sparks of light hissed from my fingertips, but I was too furious to wonder what was happening. Angrily, I hurled a stool at the wall, until his shadow disappeared.
From behind, Ammi grabbed me and a tide of relief washed over me. She was herself. Except terror was twisting her face, and darts of light flashed in her eyes as she shouted something I could not hear.
Then the edges of my vision came into focus, and my hearing returned.
“Fire!” she was shouting. “Fire!”
Our room had burst into flames.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The fire snaked ruthlessly across the ceiling and raced down the walls. I lunged for my pouch, stamping out the sparks that clung to its tassels.
Ammi bolted for the door, and I was right behind her when I remembered Edan’s mirror still on the table. I needed it, and I spun back, only to be greeted by a flash of blistering heat.
A high wall of flames shot up, dancing around the perimeter of the table. No coincidence that the shape of a wolf emerged from the blaze, eyes glimmering, milky-white teeth in its jaw stretched open in a silent laugh. Come into the fire, Sentur’na.
Smoke bled into my eyes and scorched my cheeks, but it wasn’t the heat that made me hesitate. Nor was it Bandur….
“Leave it!” Ammi yelled, pulling me toward the door. She couldn’t see Bandur, couldn’t hear him taunting me.
I yanked my arm away from her and turned back for the mirror.
Bandur vanished, leaving only his wall of fire behind. It roared at me hungrily, the high flames blackening the edges of my sleeves and my trousers to near-ashes.
No more hesitation. My fingertips closed over the mirror’s handle, and its glass shimmered, glazed with heat. Touching it should have seared my flesh, just as rushing through the fire should have killed me—yet I felt no pain. If anything, the fire was feathery and soft, its warmth melting the cold inside me. This was what I had feared. This was why Bandur had wanted me to come into the fire….
Did I imagine it, or was my skin glistening as if ignited by a thousand sparks? I watched, mesmerized, as my nails became as pale as the blue heart of the flames—
“Hurry, Maia!”
Behind me, the fire gathered in intensity. The walls were about to cave in. Grabbing the mirror, I took a step back, toward Ammi’s voice—and I tripped.
The mirror tumbled out of my hand and shattered.
NO! A strangled scream came out of my throat as I fumbled on the floor to gather the broken shards. Sparks flared at my face, ashes flying into my eyes. I coughed into my sleeve. The smoke was getting thicker, the fire stronger.
Ammi yanked me to my feet. “We have to go! Maia!”