Death by nine degrees. That meant not only the execution of the guilty party, but also their parents, children, grandparents, aunts, uncles—the entire bloodline.
Numbly, I watched the crowd scatter, eunuchs and craftsmen and soldiers and servants all searching for Lady Sarnai. I needed to move too, before someone noticed me—or in case someone had seen my eyes glowing red.
But I couldn’t move, not while the drums boomed so violently the clouds themselves seemed to shake. They rattled me, each thud resonating deeply into my bones and reminding me of what I was becoming.
“Did you know they used to play drums to scare off demons?” I could still hear Bandur taunting me. “Soon the drums will only remind you of the heart you once had. Every beat you miss, every chill that touches you, is a sign of the darkness folding over you. One day, it will take you away from all that you know and cherish: your memories, your face, your name. Not even your enchanter will love you when you wake as a demon.”
“No,” I whispered, pressing my hand over my heart, feeling its unsteady rhythm.
Still there.
I wasn’t a demon. Yet.
Once the emperor married Lady Sarnai and peace for A’landi was secured—once Baba, Keton, and all A’landans were safe—I would spend every waking moment trying to break my curse. Until then—
Someone seized my elbow, pulling me out of my thoughts—and out of the square.
“Ammi!”
“Get moving, Master Tamarin,” she said brusquely. She tossed a braid over her shoulder. “You’ll get yourself sent to the dungeon standing around like that, especially now that everyone knows your leg isn’t really broken.”
Then she turned abruptly and disappeared into a throng of serving girls.
I was stunned. My hands fell to my sides, my feet forgetting where they’d meant to go.
Why had Ammi spoken to me so curtly, as if I’d offended her?
Master Tamarin.
A lump rose in my throat. The way she’d said my name, I suddenly understood why she was angry with me.
She’d known me as the tailor Keton Tamarin, not as Maia. The morning I’d returned to the palace, the emperor had divulged to all my true identity. How betrayed she must have felt to learn of my lie from him, not from me, after all her kindness to me during the competition to become the imperial tailor.
“Ammi!” I called, running after her. “Please, let me explain.”
“Explain?” Her round eyes narrowed at me, trying to be cold but not entirely succeeding. “I don’t have time for you. There’s ten thousand jens at stake. Might not be much to you anymore, but it’s a fortune to the rest of us.”
“I can help you.”
“I don’t need your—”
“I can find her.”
My friend’s words died on her lips, and she drew in a sharp breath. “What do you know?”
To be honest, I didn’t know anything. The old Maia, being a terrible liar, would have confessed that right away. But in this small, seemingly insignificant way, I had already changed.
“I’ll show you.”
I started off before Ammi could refuse, and when I heard her reluctant footsteps following me out of the square, I headed for Lady Sarnai’s residence. I should have been glad that she’d come, and I should have tried apologizing to her again, but I didn’t want her asking more questions about Lady Sarnai’s whereabouts. Besides, something else weighed me down. A leaden heaviness in my chest that took me a moment to recognize.
I envied Lady Sarnai. Envied her the chance to be together with the man she loved.
The chance I couldn’t have with Edan.
Come with me, I could still hear him plead.
How I’d wanted to, more than anything. The warmth of his hand on my cheek, the press of his lips on mine—they were enough to melt me.
But even if I could relive that moment, I would still have told that painful lie to make him leave. It was better to endure whatever suffering that would befall me alone—Edan would be free from the bonds that had held him captive for so long.
“Where are we going?” Ammi said, sounding irritated. “Everyone else is looking outside the gates.”
“This way,” I said, cutting into the garden. My voice came out strangled, but I hoped Ammi wouldn’t notice. “I know a shortcut to her apartments.”
“Why would she still be there?”
I didn’t reply. Just started running.
I pushed Lady Sarnai’s doors open. Incense burned, a thick haze pervading the room. I grabbed a lantern, waving it around for any signs of a struggle.
A shadow fluttered from within the bedchamber.
Ammi shivered. “Maybe we should g—”
I put my finger to my lips and beckoned to her with my other hand.
Quietly, we followed the movement into Lady Sarnai’s resting chambers. The bed’s silk curtains were swaying, but the air was still; there was no wind tonight.
Setting down the lantern, I flung open the curtains.
Lady Sarnai’s attendants lay on her bed, gagged, their wrists and ankles tied together with the bedsheets. Unconscious, but beginning to stir.
I spun away from the bed. A pile of clothes had been strewn across the floor, a torn yellow sleeve peeking out from under a table. I crouched and picked up the scrap, examining it.
Lady Sarnai despised yellow, and neither she nor her maids would ever have worn material so coarse.
It was from an imperial guard’s uniform. The rip looked recent, the edges of the sleeve wrinkled as though someone had clutched the fabric tightly.
I scanned the rest of the bedchamber. A sword, too thick and unwieldy to be Lady Sarnai’s, leaned against one of the large trunks by her changing screen.
In a burning flash I could not control, I saw Lady Sarnai and Lord Xina just outside the palace. They were dressed as imperial guards, blending in with the search parties sent to look for them. My eyes flickered back to normal.
“She’s not in the palace,” I murmured. “She’s disguised as a guard.”
“How do you know that?”
Instead of replying, I grabbed the sword off the trunk. “Don’t look,” I ordered Ammi.
She paled, but she obediently backed out of the room. Holding the sword high, I smashed open the lock and lifted the lid. From the stench that rushed out, I knew what I’d find inside.
An imperial guard, his eyes cloudy with death.