All three looked up, surprised that I had managed to creep up on them. Had I been that much clumsier before, as Maia, or did becoming a demon give me the gift of catching everyone unawares?
Lady Sarnai’s gaze pierced mine. “Your enchanter already pleaded the case for you. I’ve come to believe that along with the loss of his powers comes the loss of his reason. The only reason you still stand free, tailor, is because of what you did for me and Xina in the Autumn Palace.” She paused deliberately, so I’d understand even that generosity was more than I deserved. “But you will not be leaving the Winter Palace.”
“You cannot keep me here,” I said, the edge in my tone sharp as a knife.
At that, Lady Sarnai stiffened. Lord Xina reached for his sword, but she stopped him.
“Can’t I?” she said, rising. Her long black hair, freed from its warrior plaits, flew behind her back. “Edan says that your heart is still good, but I’ve known demons all my life. The seed of all magic is rooted in greed.”
“I don’t believe that.”
She scoffed at me. “That is what my father used to say. You know, he was still a young man when the old emperor, Tainujin, united A’landi. Every shansen must make a mark for himself through war, and my father worried that with a united country, there would be little chance for him to bring honor upon his name.
“My father craved war. It was not his intent to divide A’landi in two. Far from it. But he was angry that so many of my grandfather’s victories for Tainujin were attributed to the Lord Enchanter, and he vowed the same would not happen to him.
“Gyiu’rak came to him, offering to help him defeat Tainujin’s enchanter and usurp the throne—for a price.”
“Ten thousand lives.”
“Yes,” Lady Sarnai said grimly. “I was there that night—it was the first time I ever saw a demon.” She stared into the fire. “My father refused to pay, but she’d planted a terrible desire in him, one that couldn’t be quenched even after he’d assassinated Tainujin and his heir. He grew greedy; he wanted Edan’s amulet so he would control the enchanter himself. But Khanujin discovered their plans and took it first, and my father was forced to retreat to the North.
“Gyiu’rak lurked in the forests there, and preyed on him when he returned. She extracted a blood oath in exchange for her dark magic to defeat Khanujin and his enchanter and take the throne.”
Sarnai lifted her gaze from the fire, her hard eyes meeting mine. “My father was never the same after that day. During the Five Winters’ War, I hardly noticed the change, but slowly…he was overtaken by bloodlust.” Her voice became thick, her features twisting from the memory of something terrible. “I tried to show him what was happening to him; I begged him to stop. But he would not listen.”
I swallowed, understanding in my own way how good the anger felt. I could still taste its sweetness.
“You have no choice but to bring me,” I said evenly. “None of you is a match for Gyiu’rak.”
Lady Sarnai’s nostrils flared. “Didn’t you hear anything I said? I don’t trust you.”
She was wise not to. Little did she know it, but I could have easily slipped into her mind, the way Bandur had with Ammi, and compelled her to do as I wished. The possibility floated in me now, muddying my own restraint with its appeal. But I held back.
“If you’re worried I will betray you,” I said, “Edan has a dagger that can be used against demons.”
“Maia,” Edan whispered. “Maia, that’s enough.”
I pretended not to hear him. “He has it now.”
Lord Xina raised his arm, beckoning Edan to hand over the weapon. Reluctantly, he passed it to the warlord, who, in turn, gave it to Lady Sarnai.
“An ordinary-looking thing,” she commented.
As she surveyed the dagger, taking in the intricate lines carved onto the scabbard, I continued, “Should I begin to turn against A’landi’s cause, hold the hilt and utter the word ‘Jinn.’ That will unsheathe the blade. And then you must pierce my heart—” I held up my amulet, for it was my true heart now, more and more with each day.
There was a crack in my voice, but I wasn’t finished. “I will be wearing the last dress of Amana when I fight for you. The dress of the blood of stars.” My throat closed up. “It is the source of my strength. If you wish to kill me, you must destroy it as well as my amulet, and I will die.”
It was obvious from the grimace on Edan’s face that I was telling the truth.
“You must not blame Edan for withholding this from you. He believes there is still good in me. But I know better.”
For the first time, I knelt before Lady Sarnai. “Now you know how I may be slain.” I thought of my last dress, the one that protected my soul from the demon’s grasp. “Let me help you with Gyiu’rak.”
To my surprise, she rose from beside the hearth and gave the dagger back to Edan. Without explanation, she said, “We will march for Jappor, and you will join us.” She lingered on the words, adding, “Do not disappoint me, Maia Tamarin. If you do, I swear upon the Nine Heavens that you will not live to regret it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
We followed the coastline of the Cuiyan Ocean upward, and gradually the terrain eased into steppes and grasslands, lightly laced with snow. Violent winds tore across the grass, the bitter chill whistling into my lungs. In the far distance, I could make out the famous northern forests—where demons were said to lurk.
During our march to Jappor, I scanned the sky for my birds. Only one returned, alone, which made my heart sink. But then I saw more, soaring above a convoy of ships along the northern coast of the Cuiyan Ocean. Fishermen’s boats with ragged sails, merchant ships, and, praise the gods, a fleet of dragon battleships flying Emperor Khanujin’s banner.
Soldiers came on foot, on horseback, in wagons, and in carriages. Some brought their wives and sisters, who in turn brought food, blankets, tools for making bows and spears, for sharpening daggers and swords. Most found us thanks to my birds, but others were men Lord Xina had summoned. Reinforcements arrived by the hour. By the end of the day, hundreds had joined Lady Sarnai’s forces.
I’d seen what fighting in the Five Winters’ War had done to Keton, how it had dimmed the light in his eyes. These soldiers’ faces were the same as my brother’s, hardened by war. Now I viewed them with respect rather than pity.
But still, how cruel I felt asking them to fight again.
“Their coming here isn’t magic, is it?” I asked Edan worriedly. “I didn’t force them to come, or summon them the way the shansen tried to summon me?”