“I don’t understand how we’ll meet up with Benkai,” Reiji said. “We should be gathering our mounts and joining the rest of the soldiers on the way to the mountains.”
“You’ll be glad you didn’t bring your horse,” Takkan replied, exchanging a look with me. “The stairs are narrow.”
“Stairs?” Wandei’s brows knit with confusion. “I don’t see stairs.”
“I trusted you when you said you had everything planned out,” said Andahai, “but—”
“You forget our stepmother was a sorceress,” I interrupted. “A very powerful and capable sorceress. Are we ready?”
As Takkan and my brothers murmured their assent, Hasho went to the pond. He had also thought ahead, and he dipped a sheaf of handkerchiefs into the water.
“For the smoke,” he said, handing each of us a damp cloth.
He sat again by the pool. A trio of larks had settled on his shoulder, and he let out a low whistle as he stroked their feathers with his wing. He could feel Raikama’s magic, just as I could.
I folded the handkerchief into my pocket and took one last bite of my rice dumpling. Then I gestured my brothers to the pool. “Watch.”
Holding up Raikama’s ball of red thread, I cried, “Take me to the Tears of Emuri’en.”
At my command, the pond’s water rushed apart, revealing a stairway just wide enough for one person to descend at a time.
Yotan exhaled with amazement. “Raikama had this in her garden the entire time?”
Saves us hours of trotting along the countryside, said Kiki, stretching her beak in a yawn.
Hasho, the only other person who could understand her, laughed. “Benkai’s going to be upset he’s wasted all these mornings riding back and forth to the mountains.”
I led everyone down the passageway, until a light shone through at the end. In fewer than a hundred steps, we had traveled a morning’s journey out of the palace.
The instant we emerged into the forest, a wave of heat seared my face. Smoke stung my eyes and entered my lungs, making them pinch painfully. I held the cloth up to my face and tied it in place so I could breathe.
It was impossible to tell where the fires had originated, but they’d already claimed this part of the forest. What had once been a rich wood of cypress and pine trees was now a smoldering wasteland. Embers sizzled in the dirt beneath my feet as I hurried after Raikama’s ball of thread, and it wasn’t just the smoke that made my eyes water. It was sorrow too.
Beyond the next hill, a battle raged. Swords clanged, spears clashed. Men and women shouted. Their cries grew louder the closer we came. I only prayed that Benkai was winning. That he could keep the priests and priestesses distracted long enough for me to find the Tears of Emuri’en.
They hadn’t seen me yet, but I knew that wouldn’t last long. I had to be quick.
Here it is, Shiori! Kiki cried when the red thread came to a halt. It’s here!
I held in a gasp. All that remained of the Tears of Emuri’en was a shriveled mud pit. A single moon orchid lay upon the cracked earth, its pink petals singed.
A great treasure of Kiata, the last source of magic that outlasted the gods, was gone.
There was still a tickle in the air as I approached the pit, and when I crouched at the rim, its residual power raised goose bumps on my skin. Yet these were only scraps of magic. Threads of a tapestry that had been ripped to shreds. Would it be enough?
Anger throbbed in my temples, or maybe that was the smoke, my panic, my fear. I’d been hoping to draw on the magic from the pool for strength, but now it seemed I had only myself.
I gathered Raikama’s thread upon my lap, and my hands curled into fists as I noticed the heaps of dry wood beside the pit. If the priests and priestesses of the Holy Mountains thought they’d make this sacred place a pyre, they were wrong.
“Keep your guard up,” I warned my companions. “They’re near.”
It was time to work. I ripped open my knapsack to free the paper birds. “Awaken!” I whispered, imbuing my words with power. The birds twitched with life. “Fly!”
That was as far as I got.
An arrow flew past, so close that my ears rang. Takkan pushed me to the ground, and no sooner had we ducked than more arrows flew. One clipped Hasho’s wing. Another pierced Yotan’s thigh.
With high-pitched cries, our enemies vaulted down from the smoldering trees, and reinforcements charged from behind. Dressed head to toe in white, they wove in and out of the smoke like ghosts.
“Fight!” I ordered my birds.
With a whoosh, they dispersed. Feeding off my own anger and panic, they were vicious. Beaks speared into fleshy white eyeballs, razor-thin wings sliced into cheeks and fingers. Real birds came too, diving down from the sky in a show of solidarity. Kiki let out a cackle every time she drew blood.
Soon Benkai and his soldiers found us. Sweat matted my brother’s temples, and every inch of his armor was scorched.
“About time,” Andahai greeted our brother. “Why so grim? You could fight these zealots in your sleep.”
I couldn’t tell whether Andahai was being sarcastic. Neither, apparently, could Benkai.
“It’s much more than a few, brother,” Benkai replied. Soon I knew what he meant. From behind the mountains poured hundreds of new soldiers, perhaps thousands.
The priests and priestesses had raised their own army—of villagers, fishermen, mercenaries, even nobles and a handful of treacherous sentinels. Their cheeks were smeared with ashes, which allowed them to pass through the waves of demonfire springing from the earth.
“Protect Shiori,” Benkai commanded before disappearing into the fray with a primal yell.
The demonfire crackled, racing through the scorched trees toward me. While Takkan and my brothers shielded me from incoming attacks, I focused on the demonfire.
I had to stop it. With a slow exhale, I unraveled my magic, channeling its threads toward the fires. The threads knotted around each fire in turn, squeezing out its life. But for every blaze I extinguished, a new one was born.
I couldn’t do this alone.
As if in response, there came a rumble from the mountains. I rocked back on my heels. The demonfire too shuddered, and then it roared back up, higher and fiercer than ever.
I looked up. With the trees gone leafless, I had a clear view of the Holy Mountains.
Shiori, the demons murmured through the wind. Let us free.
Could they help me? Would they help me?
The wind whistled against the dagger on my hip. All I needed to do was offer a taste of my blood, and they would come. One quick gash across my arm would do the trick.
But I couldn’t find the courage.
My hesitation cost me. Demonfire sprang in every direction, flames flaring higher than the trees. It came at me without mercy, swelling and roaring like some monstrous beast. No matter where I ran, it followed, destroying everything and everyone in its path.