Daemon frowned as he read to the end of the legend, where Luna killed the warrior and sent his soul to the hells as punishment for distorting the magic she’d given the taigas. That part Daemon had inferred from what Zomuri had told Prince Gin.
But the part that bothered Daemon was that there was no mention of what happened to Kitari, other than the warrior asking Luna to spare her. Had the girl survived? Or maybe the author hadn’t wanted to include the grisly death of a child in the story.
But then why mention her at all?
Maybe there’s something else about her in this book.
He flipped farther into the book, and sure enough, one of the other dog-eared pages marked a tale titled “Kitari and the Curse.”
Fairy returned to the desk. “Nothing in the walls,” she said. “What are you reading?”
Daemon explained the legend of Dassu, then shifted the position of the open book so Fairy could read Kitari’s story at the same time he did.
Magic did not belong to humans. Only the Society of Taigas was permitted its use, and even then, solely in the limited capacity granted by Luna. Kitari was well aware of this, for she had watched her father die for his transgressions, his soul sent to the hells to be tortured for all eternity. Because of this, she hid the devilfire he’d given her, hoping to avoid the same wrath of the gods.
The years passed uneventfully. Kitari grew from a child to a woman, making a quiet living as a laundress in a town by the sea. She married a shrimp fisherman and bore him three children. Their hut was filled with the contentment of a small but safe existence, and as the years passed, Kitari let down her guard and began to use devilfire here and there, but only innocuously, to light a fire in the hearth when they were out of wood or to put on shadow puppet shows for her children. After a long life, Kitari passed away peacefully in her sleep.
But her spirit did not walk through the tunnel of light to the afterlife. Instead, the path led her down, down, down, until it ended at an archway made entirely of flames.
“What is this place?” she cried as her skin began to crisp and blacken, like fish too close to the charcoal.
A figure emerged from the archway, holding out his hand. His face was partly ash, flakes falling off as he approached, and yet she knew him from his first step.
“Father.”
“Kitari,” he said as he ran to her. “I am so sorry. I gave you devilfire, and thus you are condemned to the hells.”
She looked wildly around her, all while frantically slapping at her arms to stop the relentless burning. “But I tried to be good!”
“It doesn’t matter. You possessed illegal magic, and thus you are here.”
Kitari sobbed, but it made no difference. Her skin began to turn to ash like his. When she was completely burnt, her skin healed itself, and the fire began the process of frying her all over again.
“I hate you,” she said to her father.
“I know.”
But he took her hand, and they walked through the archway of the hells, to suffer through eternity together.
“Stars,” Fairy said when she finished. “That was one of the darkest things I’ve ever read.”
Daemon stared at the book. He pointed at the Dragon Prince’s handwriting in the margin, which said, Must achieve the Evermore. “D-does that mean what I think it means?”
Fairy cocked her head at Daemon. “I don’t follow. I must have missed something.”
“If Prince Gin brings the Evermore to Kichona, he and all his warriors will be immortal. But if he doesn’t, I think this means that anyone with ryuu magic will be damned to the hells for eternity after they die.”
“Oh gods,” Fairy said as understanding settled in. “Because Prince Gin stole Sight from the afterlife, and he’s gifted it to the ryuu, just like the warrior gave devilfire to Kitari.”
“Which affects every single one of our friends and teachers that Prince Gin hypnotized. And . . .” Daemon couldn’t finish the sentence.
He leaned heavily against the desk.
“Including Spirit,” Fairy said. All the color in her face drained away. “We have to send a message to them right away!”
“No,” Daemon said quickly. “You can’t tell someone via dragonfly messenger that she’s damned for eternity. I . . . I want to break the news in person.” He sagged against the desk.
Fairy looked at the floor. “That makes sense. But I can’t just do nothing. Maybe we could find a way for Spirit to be forgiven?”
“You saw Kitari’s legend. She possessed illegal magic, and that was that.”
“But who decides which souls go to the peaceful afterlife and which go to the hells?” Fairy asked. “It’s the gods. We could appeal to them to pardon Spirit. It wasn’t her fault she got ryuu magic, and she’s using it for good. That has to count for something.”
Daemon shrugged listlessly. “Maybe it does. Maybe it doesn’t. Kitari used devilfire peacefully, and she was still condemned.”
“Liga promised he wouldn’t forget us. I’m going to try summoning him again and ask if he can help.” Fairy took Daemon’s hand. “Hope isn’t lost yet, all right? The League of Rogues has always considered rules negotiable, and I’m not about to stop now. So come on. We’ll get to the bottom of this and find a way out.”
He sighed but nodded. “You’re right. We can’t give up without a fight.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Invisible, Hana slithered to the floor of the study. She’d been watching Wolf and Fairy the whole time, amused by their complete obliviousness to her presence. She had intended to spring on them when the moment felt deliciously dramatic enough.
But then they’d found that story and the possibility that the ryuu were eternally damned. . . .
Was it true? The implications were so overwhelming, Hana felt suddenly paralyzed, and she’d let Wolf and Fairy escape.
“Why would Emperor Gin do this to us?” Hana asked the empty room.
But maybe he hadn’t known. Yes, that must be what had happened. Emperor Gin had discovered ryuu magic a decade ago. Back then, he was about the same age Hana was now. He couldn’t have known the repercussions of taking Sight from the afterlife. Maybe he only read that story later, and that’s when he wrote the note in it.
Or maybe Wolf and Fairy were wrong, and their theory was just plain stupid.
The only way to find out was to ask.
Hana pulled herself off the floor, smoothed her tunic, and exited the study. Emperor Gin had told his war council he’d be in the throne room if anyone needed him, so that’s where she headed.
She slowed as she entered the hall that looked like a dragon’s mouth. Hana smiled at the toothlike crimson crystals that lit the corridor; they reminded her of the emperor’s uncompromising determination. The ryuu had been refugees in the Shinowana mountains for a decade, but he’d led them through that adversity, never wavering in his belief that they would one day prevail. And look at them now.
Hana rapped on the door.
“Enter,” the emperor said from within.
She pulled on the carved dragon handles and strode into the throne room. Emperor Gin sat relaxed on the crimson stone of his throne, the orange sapphire flames at the top crowning his head like an opulent threat. Hana bowed.