She stretched her hand farther out of the torn sleeve of her robe to study the old thing. Its weave had loosened over time, some hairs snapping so they stuck out of the bracelet messily. “Do you think you could become my familiar and lend me power to find him?” she murmured to the dragon-lily spirit.
But the dragon-lily spirit hissed and huddled against her neck. It pinched her earlobe for balance as she turned toward the tail of the garden, having heard the sound of careful, deliberate footsteps.
“Nothing?”
It was Sky.
Nothing hugged her knees to her chest and waited.
“I know this is your place of refuge, Nothing, but I must speak with you.”
“Speak, then,” she said, still hiding.
Sky sat upon the rim of the lily pond, putting the potted cluster lilies between them. He gripped the stone in his strong hands, flexing muscles up his bare arms. He’d been dressed in formal black today, for the investiture ritual, and new black lacquered armor. But the armor was gone, and only the black finery remained, edged in vivid blue silk the same color that streaked his hair, for Sky was one of the demon-kissed, born to those families cursed generations ago by the Queens of Heaven. All such children had the demon-blue in their hair or eyes or underlying their skin tone and all received some additional gift: perfect pitch or night sight or an inability to lie. Sky’s gift was physical strength. He was rather huge. Once Kirin dared him to toss Nothing over a palace wall with only his forefinger. Sky had declined, as he’d not needed to prove anything.
“They won’t find him,” the prince’s bodyguard rumbled. More than hear it, Nothing seemed to feel it reverberate through the stone rim of the pond and into her spine, which pressed there. “They sent the Warriors of the Last Means in only four directions.”
Surprised, Nothing leaned forward, peering around the cluster lilies. The spirit grasped her hair. “Four is a balanced number,” she said. “And only a Mountain Sorcerer could have made such a convincing imposter. Of course they sent to the Four Living Mountains.”
Sky closed his eyes. “But the sorcerers of the Four Mountains do not have him, and the warriors will not hunt for him where he is to be found. Kirin was taken by the Fifth Mountain and the Sorceress Who Eats Girls. You must go with me to steal him back.”
FIVE
NOTHING THREW HERSELF TO her feet, and the dragon-lily spirit hissed its fear as it clung to her hair. She said, “You are lying! The sorceress would not take Kirin! She only takes girls.”
Twenty-three girls in the past seventeen years.
Sky stared at her, eyes dark, haunted, and said, “You must not speak of this to anyone.”
“Speak of what?”
Nothing’s heart pounded as she clenched her fists and shoved them onto her hips, trying to appear stronger than she felt. Suspicion arrived in a burst of images and memories, tiny shards of Kirin’s life thrusting themselves suddenly into clarity: side glances and swallowed words, almost-confessions and very soft sorrow when he glanced at certain things.
The demon-kissed bodyguard forged ahead. “Kirin trusted you over all others.”
“Even you,” she said, lashing out in her fear.
His eyes slid to her shoulder and the spirit dangling there. “Will this flower spirit tell? If so, I must strangle it into a demon and plant it in salted earth.”
Nothing bit her lip and raised a hand to cradle the flailing claws of the dragon-lily spirit. “Tell what, Sky? Tell what?”
The large young man knelt before her and tilted his face up in a pleading, penitent angle. “When I traveled the long roads this summer with Kirin Dark-Smile, I traveled with a wife.”
“Oh no,” she whispered.
Sky held her gaze. “Kirin said, ‘Sky, go with me for this three-month journey as if you go with an adventuring daughter, not a son. I will put on gowns and braid my hair with flowers. I will walk and speak as a woman might, and you will be like my husband, not my dearest friend. This is my only chance to live as I wish to live, Sky, with you. Do not make me beg. Do not deny me.’ And so what was I to do, Nothing, but agree? What would you have done?”
His copper cheeks flushed with his deep-purple blood. “What would you have done, Nothing?” he demanded again, low and rough.
Nothing had not guessed he had such depth of emotion in that hard body of his. Though she was afraid, she stepped close to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I always give Kirin everything he asks, even if I shouldn’t.”
“Will you give me what I ask and go with me to the Fifth Mountain?”
The Fifth Mountain, far to the north of the empire, was a dead mountain: its heart had erupted more than a century ago, its spirit transformed into a great demon. At the time, the Emperor with the Moon in His Mouth had bargained with the demon, sending it tributes in return for peace. But since the Sorceress Who Eats Girls had come, there had been no peace: she took girls from across the empire and turned emissaries away at her gates. The sorcerers of the Four Living Mountains would not attack a great demon so long as it held the border, and the great demon of the palace refused to rally itself.
Nothing said, “Why do you think I can help, Sky?”
“They say nothing can penetrate the Fifth Mountain.”
She pursed her lips in a frown. A trick of words did not a rescue make.
Sky added, “You knew what it was. You knew it was not Kirin and…” He ducked his head in shame. “I was not brave enough to admit the truth and act. You are fearless.”
The dragon-lily spirit snorted and leaned down, one claw tugging on her hair.
“You are friendly with the great demon of the palace and so maybe can be friendly with the great demon of the Fifth Mountain. And while the sorceress will not be interested in me, not enough to open her doors, you are a girl with a heart she can eat.”
Nothing imagined an elegant lady cracking open her chest to lick the bloody mass of her heart, and she held her tongue.
Sky said, “I will do whatever I must to save the Heir to the Moon, Nothing. Will you?”
“I want to go too,” the dragon-lily spirit said, and its blister-pink eyes sparked with determination.
“You must remain with your house,” she said absently. She felt light-headed and wondered if this decision had been made the moment she stabbed her knife into the imposter’s neck.
“Meet me at the gates of the seventh circle in two hours,” Sky said. “I will have some food and supplies. You need only bring sturdy shoes and layered robes. Do you have one in wool, or leather? As we go higher, it will grow colder and damp.”
Nothing said, “I will manage.”
The demon-kissed bodyguard stood stiffly and departed.
SIX
NOTHING SLIPPED INTO THE elaborate corridors of the Second Consort’s tailoring suite to find Whisper. The young woman’s stitches were so tiny it was said she did not sew seams but murmured pretty songs to convince the silks and threads to join together of their own accord. Her nature of tender tolerance had made her ideal for befriending Nothing, and she’d done it with glances and the occasional touch that never was followed by a demand or a need. Whisper had simply made it known to Nothing that she was available, and interested. To most, Nothing was an oddity or no better than an exotic pet, or a trick to be suspicious of. It was a relief to be welcomed into Whisper’s space like a ray of quiet sunshine.