At the question, the glass flickered again. The vision of the emperor and princes vanished, and the mirror turned its focus from the palace on the Sacred Lake to deep in the woods. Fire ravaged the forests, racing through the trees and leaving the nearby villages smoldering.
Then came the Holy Mountains. I recognized them straightaway, but there was something different about the mountain in the center.
Its face bore a jagged scar that hadn’t been there before. As the mirror brought me closer, a wisp of smoke stole out of the scarlet rock. And my heart went still.
In one breath, the wisp unfurled into a creature I had prayed I’d never see again.
The Wolf.
He sprang forth, his misty gray coat more shadow than fur, his blood-red eyes as fiery as the scarred rock that had borne him. The Holy Mountains trembled.
Bandur, rasped the demons within, in a fearsome chorus. King of Demons.
The name latched on to my thoughts like a ghost. I’d never heard it before, yet it chilled me. Bandur.
“No!” I whispered. That was impossible. Bandur couldn’t be free. My stepmother and I had sealed the mountains!
The mirror would show me no more. It cracked and cleaved into shards again, but the tiny fish did not return to take them away. Instead, the shards drifted aimlessly around the chamber.
I was so shaken by what I’d seen, I barely noticed that Nahma had returned. Kiki, I can’t go through with this. I have to go home. I—
I stopped, my thoughts cut off by an invisible string.
If you wish to ever see your home again, Nahma’s voice pushed into my mind, then you must go to the ceremony.
I gasped, shocked by her words as well as by what she’d done. “You…you—”
I was born able to sense thoughts. Nahma let go of my arm. Under the veil of her long black bangs, her eyes turned white, dark pupils disappearing. It helped me win the selection rites, and gain the trust of even Lady Solzaya. She sees much through the mirror of hers, but it cannot read the mind or heart. She will assume I am telling you of my experiences as a companion.
I met her gaze. So this is what you meant when you said you weren’t really human.
Nahma’s eyes were cold. I was unwanted, like your stepmother. When my parents learned of my magic, they threw me into the sea, to the dragons. On land, magic is feared. Here, it is revered.
I swallowed hard, wondering what my father would think once he learned of my own talents. How will going to the ceremony help me find my way home?
I’ve heard you are a resourceful girl, Nahma replied. You’ll find a way. She tossed me a peach. Eat. Your power is weakened here, but even a bite will replenish some strength.
I rolled the peach in my hand, still skeptical that it might be poisoned. In Kiatan legend, peaches were the fruit of the gods, and one particular tree in their gardens bestowed immortality.
I can try first, if you want, Kiki offered. I don’t mind living forever.
Very funny. What makes you think they’d poison it with immortality?
Kiki shrugged. I’m an optimist.
No, you’re not.
When I finally ate, Nahma eyed my paper bird warily. You’d do well to keep that bird hidden too, unless she wants to become a pebble.
Kiki slid behind my collar, and I set down the peach. Why are you helping me?
Because King Nazayun should not have the Wraith’s pearl. She paused. Because there is another in Ai’long who can help you. I have seen the Wraith in his mind.
It was hard for me to hold in my curiosity. Who?
I cannot say. She spun me to face the mirror. But he will desire the pearl even more than Nazayun. Present it at the ceremony, and he will come.
Easy for her to say. If I drank the elixir, I wouldn’t even remember my name, let alone be able to interrogate the dragon she spoke of. But she was right: I was resourceful.
“Now,” she said, speaking aloud once more so Solzaya could hear, “are you ready?”
What choice did I have? I gave a small, uncertain nod.
There was no turning back.
Solzaya had lied about the ceremony being an intimate affair.
Over a hundred dragons had come. They sat on giant plates of coral—clouds, Nahma called them, since they floated in the water. Most dragons wore some kind of an unconvincingly human form; they didn’t bother to hide their horns and whiskers and claws—some even had tails curling out from under their jackets. From their snickers and giggles, I could tell it was a game to make the mortal feel uncomfortable.
I shouldn’t have given them the satisfaction. But as I glided into the ritual dome, surrounded by a room full of rapt dragons, I really did feel like a pig. Especially thanks to the cursed pink dress I was wearing.
“You’re the first sorceress to become a companion,” said Nahma, though I hadn’t asked. “Not to mention, a dragon prince’s companion. Of course they will stare.”
While she escorted me to the highest tier of clouds, a gray-spotted whale announced my arrival. A trio of octopuses blew into conch shells once she had brought me to Seryu’s side.
I hardly recognized him in his princely finery. In place of his usual emerald robes, he wore a silver jacket studded with blue pearls, and his green hair, which I’d never seen untamed, had been braided and tucked under a tasseled cap. He was taller than I remembered, his shoulders broader too. He’d grown since the first time I’d met him. He looked more regal, more handsome—but also more like a stranger. Aside from the slightest twitch of his nose, he didn’t acknowledge me when I landed on his cloud.
“Thank you for your part in the rites, Aunt Nahma,” he said, still ignoring me. “You have honored me greatly.”
Nahma murmured a few perfunctory blessings, then ascended to the highest cloud, where Lady Solzaya sat with the lords and ladies of the South, North, and East. The Lord of the Westerly Seas’ seat was empty, just as Seryu had predicted it would be.
I leaned back against a spine of coral, aiming to sit sullenly still, but my mind was spinning. Could Elang be the dragon Nahma had promised I’d meet?
I’d meant to keep the silence between Seryu and me, mostly out of petulance, but my tongue had other ideas. “Why does Elang never come to the palace?”
Seryu glared at me sidelong. “Is that really what you want to ask me right now?”
“Would you rather I slap you again for getting me into this mess?”
The dragon’s glare darkened. He growled, “Elang is different.”
“How?”
Seryu wouldn’t say any more. His gaze roamed over the glossy pink gown Nahma had attired me in, fixing on the weatherworn satchel at my hip. “Whatever tricks you have in mind, don’t. Every dragon of importance is here right now. They’re watching as we speak.”
“Then let them hear this,” I said acidly. “I hope you rot in the Nine Hells, Seryu.”