“It’ll be fine,” Sora said, even though she couldn’t promise a thing. “Now get in the trunk.” She shoved him gently.
He laughed despite the circumstances and reluctantly climbed in. “See you in the cargo hold.”
Sora nodded. Then she piled stacks of ryuu uniforms over him and shut the lid. There were slits in the rattan weave of the trunk to allow Daemon to breathe.
Soon afterward, she found a cart filled with drums of fruit and crates of vegetables. Sora curled up in a barrel that was partially full of oranges. At least it smells good in here, she thought.
She had hardly settled herself in when voices approached.
“You’re in charge of transporting the food to the ship,” a ryuu said. Her voice still had the reedy quality of youth, but there was also a corrosive bossiness to it that made it clear she was in charge despite her age. It sounded like the same ryuu from before, the one in the cloak with Prince Gin. “Can you handle the responsibility?” she asked.
“Yes, Virtuoso,” a recruit said.
Virtuoso. Sora made note of the name. She wouldn’t make the same mistake as the report on Takish Gorge, when she didn’t have enough specific information to share with the commander.
“Recite the steps I taught you,” Virtuoso ordered the recruit.
“Look for the green particles of magic, coax them to form small hands, and command those hands to lift and carry the crates and drums to the ship.”
“I’ll watch you cast the first spell,” Virtuoso said. “Transport this one.” She thumped hard on the top of Sora’s barrel.
Sora nearly jumped out of her skin. She tensed every muscle in her body to prevent herself from knocking the oranges inside the barrel around. It would be a dead giveaway that something or someone was inside. Citrus wasn’t supposed to move on its own.
It was quiet for a minute. Was the recruit concentrating on seeing the magic? Daemon had explained to Sora about Sight.
The barrel lurched upward a foot into the air. Sora braced her hands against the inside of the drum. It continued its bumpy ascent, jerking slightly left, accelerating right, pausing, zooming up and left again . . .
And then a sudden drop. Sora barely stifled a gasp as her insides plummeted along with the barrel.
A split second later, the drum came to an abrupt halt. Sora’s heart pounded so loudly, it wouldn’t be a surprise if the ryuu outside could hear.
“At this rate,” Virtuoso said scathingly, “it’ll take us days to leave Kaede City. Either that or we’ll set sail without the food, and everyone will starve at sea.”
“I’m sorry,” the recruit said.
Virtuoso huffed impatiently. “You’re overthinking it. Taigas rely too heavily on their chants to will the magic into a spell. You’re a ryuu now. Simply see the magic and use your thoughts to imagine what you want it to do.”
“Let me try again,” he said. There was steel in his voice that Sora recognized as the resolve taught to all taigas from a young age. She could practically hear the teachers making them chant the mantra every morning before class: Failures are not end points. They are merely challenges to be mastered.
Her barrel of oranges began to rise. It was a rocky ascent again, but swifter, as if the magical hands were balancing the drum on their palms this time, rather than juggling it like before.
Then Sora’s barrel flew sideways. Toward the ship? About ten seconds later, the speed tapered off, and she was lowered slowly until the bottom of the drum thunked onto wood.
She remained very still and quiet, resisting the temptation even to brush away the hair tickling her face.
Something else heavy thudded down near her barrel. Followed by another and another. Sora kept count. There had been thirteen crates and three drums, besides her own, in the back of that cart.
When her tally reached sixteen, the thumping stopped. That’s it, she thought.
Sora smiled and rested her head back against the oranges. She was on Prince Gin’s ship.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Empress Aki paced the courtyard inside Rose Palace.
“I don’t like this,” she said to Glass Lady.
There hadn’t been any new typhoon attacks, which ought to have been good news. But there also hadn’t been any hint of the ominous magic or the ship that Glass Lady had seen. Aki got the feeling that an enormous trap was being set up around them, and they were too oblivious to realize it was happening.
“Are we receiving daily updates from the Society outposts around the kingdom?” Aki asked.
“Yes,” Glass Lady said. “The only post we did not hear from this morning was the Paro Village taigas, but that isn’t unusual. Things are slow out there, so they don’t always report daily.”
“What if that’s where the enemy is?”
“Unlikely. There’s nothing out there. There’s no reason why an enemy would want Paro Village over the larger, more valuable targets in Kichona.”
Aki stopped pacing and whirled to face the commander. “So we’re just sitting around, waiting for them to strike again?” As soon as she asked the question, though, she realized how much she sounded like a shrill teenager, accusing a grown-up of not knowing better despite all her years of experience. “I’m sorry,” Aki said. “That didn’t come out the way I meant it. I do not doubt the Society’s methods, but it’s frustrating that we don’t know anything more.”
Glass Lady nodded. “Believe me, I wish we knew more as well. But until we catch sight of our enemy again, all we can do is practice extreme vigilance. Taigas around the kingdom are on high alert and have been ordered to double their patrols. The navy is on constant watch for anomalies, everything from unregistered ships coming to port to unexplainable weather patterns. And the scholars at the Citadel are diligently combing through our libraries for references to the kind of magic I saw, whether it’s in historical scrolls or texts collected from other kingdoms or our own folklore. We have the very best on the job, Your Majesty, and when our enemy decides to rear its head again, we will be ready.”
“Very well, Commander.” Aki restrained herself from demanding that she see progress soon. The Society would get her information as soon as they had it.
But it wasn’t enough for Aki to do nothing while waiting. After Glass Lady left, the empress turned to Graystone, one of her Imperial Guards. “I need to go to the temple,” she said.
Graystone bowed. “I will fetch your kit, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you. I’ll meet you there.”
Luna was the taigas’ patron deity, but her sister, Sola, ruler of the sun, was the goddess of the imperial family. All emperors and empresses were blessed by Sola to rule Kichona.
Aki climbed the spiraling gold steps that led up to Rose Palace’s highest turret. Unlike the other towers, Sola’s temple was constructed of red and orange crystal to honor the fiery light of the sun. It stood alone in the center of the palace, and at the top of the staircase, a fountain of cool, clear water bubbled eternally, needing no rain or underground spring to replenish it.
At the threshold to the temple, Aki stepped out of her shoes, leaving the delicately embroidered slippers on the last stair. She washed her hands in the fountain, rinsing herself of the impurities of earthly life before she addressed the goddess. When she was clean enough, she walked into the small chamber of the temple itself. The Imperial Guards remained outside; gods and goddesses appeared only for the royal family.
The interior of the temple varied in color, depending on the time of day and the mood of the sun. Sometimes light streamed through the crystal and cast a pale orange everywhere. Other times, the room was a swirl of red and gold, like an autumn leaf made of sunbeams.
Today, however, the temple was dark crimson. This is not a good sign, Aki thought.
She knelt before the shrine and lit a stick of incense. Its smoky pomegranate scent wafted up toward the heavens but did nothing to soothe the empress’s nerves.
Aki set down the blue velvet roll Graystone had fetched for her. She untied the gold ribbon and unfurled the velvet on the low table, her fingers shaking. The contents of the roll constituted “the kit” given to each emperor and empress on coronation day: a long needle forged of pure gold; a small, rose-crystal disk; and a white handkerchief, embroidered with the imperial family crest. The Ora tiger wearing a crown graced the corner of the silk.