Usually that was Hasho’s role, or even Benkai’s, but my father glanced at Takkan, then nodded. “Go. And don’t leave your room until I send for you.”
Before I left, I exchanged a look with Hasho, knowing I could trust him to lead the investigation. He would explain to my brothers—especially Andahai—what had happened.
“What did you see?” Takkan asked quietly once we were alone in the hall.
“Bandur.” I shivered, still haunted. “He spoke to me—through Qinnia.”
“What did he say?”
“He was in a chatty mood. He bragged that he could take on anyone’s body if he wished. He said he wasn’t the one who poisoned me but that he did kill nine priestesses of the Holy Mountains.”
Takkan paused in his step. “Perhaps we shouldn’t go to the breach tomorrow.”
“Shouldn’t go?” I exclaimed. “Bandur knows I’m back. There’s no point hiding.”
“Shiori, he tried to kill you.”
“It wasn’t him.”
“How do you know?”
He told me so, I almost said before realizing how ridiculous that sounded. “There has to be a ritual—to sever my bond with the pearl.”
“He wants you at the Holy Mountains. You’d only be playing into his hands.”
“I need to see the breach,” I insisted. “I can find a way to seal him back inside.”
Takkan didn’t argue, though I could tell I hadn’t convinced him. “Let’s discuss this tomorrow. You need rest.” He took one step back. “I’ll keep watch outside.”
“You’re not my bodyguard.”
“I’m not,” he agreed. “I’m your betrothed. Officially again, as of tonight—which means you can’t dismiss me.” He settled in a corner. “Go to sleep.”
I was still standing in my doorway. “You’re impossible, Bushi’an Takkan,” I muttered, loud enough for him to hear. “I liked you better when I had the bowl on my head and you had no idea who I was.”
It was a lie, and we both knew it.
He bowed, completely unruffled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Shiori.”
Somehow, in the midst of the danger awaiting us, those were the sweetest words I had heard in months.
It was barely past dawn, and Hasho was still snoring when I slipped into his room. My brothers and I had shared connecting chambers ever since I was born, and it wasn’t the first time I was stealing their clothes to slip out of the palace unannounced. Hasho’s clothes, usually, since his room was adjacent to mine. Lucky him.
I’d already put on my plainest set of robes, but I needed a hat to hide my hair and face. Hasho had plenty, and I helped myself to a blue one that matched the striped cotton tunic I wore. As an afterthought, I lifted two daggers from his weapons rack and strapped them to my belt.
Takkan was already up and waiting for me. He really had spent the night outside my door.
“Where are the guards?” I asked in lieu of a greeting. At least two were posted outside each of my siblings’ chambers.
“Dismissed. Your maids, too. Your father isn’t trusting anyone to attend you until the assassin is found.” Takkan paused, acknowledging my disguise with the slightest lift of an eyebrow. “I take it you haven’t changed your mind about the Holy Mountains.”
“Do I look like I’ve changed my mind?” I fidgeted with Hasho’s hat, tucking in a flyaway strand of silvery hair. Then I patted my satchel. Inside were the pearl and the mirror of truth. “Let’s go.”
Takkan stepped to the side, blocking my way. “Your father has forbidden you from leaving your room.”
“If he wanted me to listen to him, he shouldn’t have lied to me about the demons.”
“Your brothers asked me to ensure you stay as well.”
“Then they should be the ones guarding my chamber, not you. I don’t need their permission to leave—or yours.”
I strode past him, and Takkan’s jaw tightened, a clear sign he didn’t approve of what I was doing. Kiki didn’t, either, only she was far more vocal in her displeasure.
Is your head still full of seawater, Shiori? Someone tried to kill you last night. You should be staying home, where it’s safe.
“Safe?” I echoed. “Bandur was in the palace. He possessed Qinnia….” I balled my fists. “I didn’t come back from Ai’long just to do nothing. I’m going to find him.”
But—
“Whoever it is that tried to kill me is in the palace. They’re not going to stop trying just because I’m stuck in my room. I’ll be safer outside.”
My paper bird yanked at Takkan’s hair, a plea for his support.
Before he could speak, I warned, “You’re not going to change my mind. You can come too, or I can go by myself.”
He wouldn’t budge. Emuri’en’s Strands! I’d forgotten how pigheaded Takkan could be.
“Shiori, please stay in your room.”
“Move aside,” I commanded haughtily. I raised my hand to his forehead. “Seryu taught me a sleeping spell, and I’m not afraid to use it on you.”
A muscle in Takkan’s jaw ticked, and he tried again, gently. “Think of what happened last night—”
“I am thinking of last night. There’s a demon on the loose, and I’m the only one who can stop him.” I flicked Kiki into my hat before she protested too. “Now, you can either come with me as my bodyguard, or you can take a nap and greet me when I return.”
“The gates will be closed—”
The gates were the least of my concerns. “I know a shortcut.”
* * *
Though Takkan didn’t say a word, I could sense his confusion when, instead of heading for the main gates, I took him deeper into the palace. We avoided the most heavily trafficked corridors and paths, cutting through the citrus orchard and rock gardens to the place I had once loved and dreaded.
“The Moon Gate apartments,” I murmured, sliding open the wooden doors.
Raikama’s residence had always been quiet, yet it rattled me not seeing guards stationed at every corner, or servants milling about the rooms. Inside, bouquets of chrysanthemums and stale incense flooded my nostrils—the smells of prayer and mourning.
The doors to her audience chamber were wide open, something that never would’ve happened when Raikama was alive. She didn’t accept many visitors.
I took a tentative step inside. “When I was little, we used to chase each other around this room,” I said, gesturing at the gilded walls. “After, when we were dizzy, we’d feast on cakes and peaches and pretend we lived on the moon.” I missed that time so fiercely it hurt to breathe. “One day, I sneaked into her garden and broke her trust. The last time I ever came here, I thought Father had summoned me to apologize to her, but instead it was to make an announcement of my betrothal—to you.”