He eyed me sternly. “Demon magic feeds off destruction. An unquenchable rage. The desire for vengeance. These are signs of changing.”
With a shudder, I remembered my anger at the shansen’s soldiers, Emperor Khanujin, even Ammi…how much I’d wanted to hurt them. How easy it had been to give in.
When I said nothing, Master Tsring continued. “A demon’s power resides in his amulet, which can be destroyed only by the demon himself, or by a source of powerful magic such as the blood of stars. As sentinel of the Forgotten Isles, Bandur guards it zealously, for it can bring his demise.”
I was fingering my amulet without realizing it. Its color had darkened, the ridges of the walnut shell were charcoal gray, and the glass crack in the center was murky instead of clear. The change in color made my heart jump. “What about the power of Amana’s children?”
Master Tsring watched me, his expression unreadable. “A curious question few would ask. Gen told me you were able to sew the dresses of Amana.”
“Yes.”
Tsring chewed on a stalk of sugarcane, considering. “The demon grows stronger in you every day. Since you are the creator of the dresses, they will succumb to the darkness along with you. But the dresses are both your salvation and your ruin; they are the source of your power in your amulet. If you destroy them, you will be free of Bandur.” A deliberate pause. “But you will also die.”
I fell silent, choking back a cry.
“That is not an option,” rasped Edan. His next words came quickly, as if he wanted to forget what Tsring had said. “What if we were to destroy the Forgotten Isles?”
Tsring shook his head. “Even if that were possible, there is no way to free her. Her promise is sealed twofold, by the demon, and the goddess.”
His words sank into me. “I’ve already destroyed one of the dresses,” I said tightly. “The laughter of the sun.”
The master’s expression darkened. “In doing so, you have hastened your end. Those three dresses are your body, your mind, your heart.”
I stiffened at the revelation. Since I’d sacrificed the dress of the sun, my body had become numb to all but extreme heat and cold. Since recovering from my wounds in the Winter Palace, I hadn’t felt pain either.
“What Gen says is true,” Tsring continued. “You have already lasted longer than most. Your devotion to your family, your love for Gen and his for you—these are your strength, the barrier that protects you from Bandur. But you know better than any that the wall is crumbling. Your memories will be the next to go. Without them, we are nothing but empty husks. You are running out of time.”
“So you’re saying I should give up and let Bandur win.” My nostrils flared, a surge of anger quickening inside me.
Tsring stared into my simmering eyes. Whatever he saw there did not please him, for his lips wrinkled into a frown. “Stay tonight, but leave tomorrow for Lapzur. Any longer and you will become a danger to my disciples and the peace here in this temple. I will be forced to subdue you.”
What makes you think you can win against me? I nearly spat. But I bit my tongue to keep the words from spilling out. They drummed in me, the urge to show Tsring I would not cower before him. Him, a mere enchanter.
I squeezed my hands together tightly as Master Tsring rose and left the dining quarters, leaving Edan and me alone.
“We’ve wasted our time coming here,” I said.
Edan put his hand over mine. He’d been quiet the past few minutes. “You didn’t tell me you sacrificed the dress of the sun.”
I swallowed, some of my anger fading. “The Autumn Palace was under attack. Hundreds of lives were at stake.”
“I should have been there with you.”
My shoulders fell, and I pulled my hand away from Edan’s. “It’s better that you weren’t. There wasn’t anything you could have done.”
Immediately after I said it, I wished I could take back the words. They stung him. They stung me, too.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“Master Tsring is wrong about you,” Edan interrupted. “He blames himself for what happened to Bandur, so much that he cannot see you are different. Talk to him again.”
He stood. “I’ll be in the library.”
Alone, I slammed my fist on the table. If not for Lady Sarnai, I wouldn’t have had to make these damned dresses, the root of everything that had gone wrong. And if not for Emperor Khanujin and the shansen and their stupid war, I would have grown up with my brothers and never had to go to the palace in the first place.
Lady Sarnai, Khanujin, the shansen. I hated them all. I even hated Master Tsring for giving Edan false hope that I could be saved.
But most of all, I hated Bandur.
I inhaled a breath.
“Remember what Master Tsring said,” I murmured, working to calm myself. “Vengeance is the path to your fall.”
But you’re going to fall anyway, spoke the demon’s voice inside me. You might as well destroy those who’ve hurt you along the way.
I felt my blood begin to chill. Groping for control, I clenched the edge of my stool, digging my nails into its stiff wood. “Go away.”
But how can I do that, Sentur’na? I am you. I AM YOU.
I shot to my feet, heart thumping madly as my stool toppled behind me. Silence greeted me when I burst into the hall. The demon had not followed.
Relieved, I leaned against the wall to wait for my ears to stop ringing.
“Edan?” I called out then.
The hall was empty. No sign of Edan or Master Tsring.
I started toward the courtyard, when a flicker of my reflection in the window caught my eye. Against my better judgment, I stopped to look. My face had grown gaunt, my cheeks so sunken I could see the slant of my bones curving to my chin.
That wasn’t all. My pupils flickered like two flames, and my skin was so pale that blue veins shone through.
All the air left me in a rush. My body tensed and tipped. “That isn’t me,” I insisted, rapping my knuckles against the window’s glass. “Show me who I am. The real me.”
I waited, but my reflection did not change. This was no enchanted mirror of truth, just a sheet of glass.
Even if it were an enchanted mirror, it would show you the same. This is who you are now.
I glared up at the ceiling, looking for the shadow of the demon that had just spoken. But it was my demon, the one inside me.
And she was right.
A fit of anger came over me, my fists shaking at my sides. I couldn’t control it, the hot, boiling rage bubbling in my throat.