“Yes, I am called Wolf, and I am in dire need of your assistance. I need a boat so I can get to Tiger’s Belly. Whatever it costs, the Society will reimburse you, and then some. But please, get up. I need this boat quickly.”
They studied him, then discussed among themselves for what seemed like an eon. Finally, the first man stood up.
“We do not have much to offer, but whether you are Nauti or Wolf, it is our honor to help you. We’ll row you ourselves, wherever you wish to go.”
Daemon nodded. I suppose if believing I’m a god means they’ll get me to Tiger’s Belly, I’ll let them go on believing. He’d donate next month’s apprentice allowance to Nauti’s temple as an apology for not setting the record straighter here today.
“Thank you,” he said. “You are truly honorable citizens of Kichona. Now please, let’s go.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Soon thereafter, the ship swept briskly into Tiger’s Belly. The ryuu disembarked, led by Hana, who refused to meet Sora’s eye.
The harbormaster ran down the pier, waving papers angrily. “This ship is not registered! You cannot take up a berth!” he shouted.
Prince Gin took his time walking up to him.
“My ship serves Sola, Luna, and Zomuri,” he said. “You insult our gods by refusing me in your port.”
“I don’t know who Zomuri is—”
Prince Gin flicked his wrist.
The harbormaster’s head snapped cleanly off his neck.
Sora gasped. The man’s body remained standing for a few seconds, as if, in its shock, it still expected its head to return. But a moment later, it collapsed onto the pier, splattering blood everywhere.
The new recruits joined Sora in her surprise, but Prince Gin turned to them and said, “We aim for peace while in our own kingdom, but sometimes, expediency requires sacrifice. Blood is a price we must be willing to pay for glory. I also wanted you to see the power we have within us. This is what we will be able to do when we invade other kingdoms. We’ll make Kichona one of the most feared and revered kingdoms in the world. We will be unstoppable.”
Yes! Sora thought, as the fire of ambition in her belly flared, hot and ready to fight. Her mother had entreated her to do more, to be more. And now she was fulfilling her promise, serving the greatest leader Kichona had ever seen and using Luna’s gifts to their greatest potential. And with her sister, no less.
Mama will be proud, Sora thought.
By now most of the ryuu had disembarked, leaving a small crew behind to guard the ship. Prince Gin divided his warriors into small groups, each in charge of attacking a sector of the city, securing it, and rounding up any taigas they found. Everyone had been assigned a unit—even the new recruits—except Sora.
“Where do I go?” she asked, but everyone was already gone, assembled with their groups farther down the dock.
“You haven’t been trained yet,” Hana said, as she appeared seemingly from nowhere. “You’re stuck with me until you’re ready. Unfortunately.”
Shrug it off, Sora thought. She reminded herself of how Hana had looked at her earlier, when Sora had managed to find her when she was invisible. She also held on to the fact that Hana could have let Prince Gin execute her, but had saved her instead. That didn’t mean nothing.
“I won’t let you down,” Sora pledged, touching her necklace. Not this time.
Sora stood inside the shrine to Emmer, god of the harvest. While Tiger’s Belly had a port, it was only a small one; this part of Kichona was mostly rice paddies and silos, growing and supplying the kingdom with grain. Fittingly, this was a modest shrine, with plain wooden beams supporting a clean but basic pagoda roof.
It did, however, have an excellent vantage point from which to observe the network of farms inland. Hana would be able to watch the ryuu’s progress while she trained Sora in their magic.
“Lie down,” Hana ordered.
“Here?”
“Where else?” She tapped her foot impatiently. It was a role reversal. It used to be Sora who complained that Hana was too slow, that she was always holding up Sora’s plans.
Sora lay down on the thin reed mat covering the shrine’s floor. Marigold wreaths on rickety bamboo stands, offerings to Emmer from the locals, surrounded the perimeter.
“You could see me when I was invisible,” Hana said. “Which means that, in theory, you might be able to disappear too.”
Sora sat up. “You’re going to show me how?” Eagerness for more ryuu magic bubbled inside her.
Hana put her foot on Sora’s chest and shoved her back on the floor. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’ll start with the basics.”
Sora sighed but nodded.
“Find the ryuu particles. Once your Sight homes in on them, they will respond to your thoughts. No stupid chants and mudras to tie up your hands. Ryuu can actually cast spells and fight at the same time.”
Oh! Sora hadn’t thought of that before. Taigas always had to choose between holding weapons or using their fingers to begin a spell. But now she’d be free to use both superior magic and throwing stars simultaneously. The ryuu were the future of Kichona. Sora smiled.
But if she wanted to be part of Prince Gin’s revolution, she’d better practice. Sora refocused, shifting her vision to look for the magic. After a few seconds, the ryuu particles winked into view.
“I see them,” she said.
“Now tell them to lift you up.”
Sora made her body as stiff as a corpse.
Buoy me, she thought to the emerald dust floating around her.
They eddied for a moment, then came together like droplets of water forming a wave. They swept under Sora’s left side and scooped her up, suspending her an inch above the shrine floor.
She let out an unintentional gasp. Whereas taiga magic was like warm, liquid chocolate coursing through her body, ryuu magic was a sauna—hot and intense, but in a good way. It both energized and relaxed her. There were even notes of cedar in the air. Sora smiled as she relaxed into the ryuu power.
Now take me higher, she thought at the particles.
Her body rose in the air, steadily. Then she accidentally sped up, and she smashed into the bells and banners hanging from the ceiling. She tumbled back to the ground and smacked into the reed mat. The force of her landing knocked over several of the marigold wreaths nearby.
Hana laughed. But when Sora looked at her, she smacked her hand over her mouth. All traces of amusement were wiped away in an instant, replaced by schoolteacher sternness. Or what Hana probably thought a teacher looked like when disciplining an apprentice. She’d never had a chance to be part of the taiga school.
“Make the particles lift you up again,” Hana said.
Sora obeyed, but not because she was scared into obedience. It was because the would-be-teacher look on Hana’s face reminded her how young her sister had been when she was kidnapped.
She used to be small enough to fit in Sora’s lap. Sora hadn’t been much bigger, but two years made a difference back then, and Hana would curl up against her, with a smile that could light up the Imperial City whenever Sora paid her any attention. On Friday night sleepovers, Hana would beg Sora to tell her myths from their mother’s books, stories Hana was still too young to read on her own, and Sora would recite fables about rich, greedy children who tried to steal the moon from Luna, legends of past taiga warriors who fought against monsters from the sea, and myths about girls riding on the backs of horses made of comets. Every time, Hana would murmur happily and curl tighter into Sora’s lap, and Sora would know the moment she fell asleep by the rhythm of her breath, the content slowing of the ins-and-outs as she drifted off to her own dreams full of brave warriors and mysterious storybook creatures.
Sora ached to have that again. Not exactly the same, because they were grown now, but she wanted her sister back. She wanted to bundle her up in her lap and keep her safe from the world, with the promise that when the monsters came, she and Hana would fight together, sister by sister, sword by sword.
And so she listened to Hana and commanded the ryuu particles to buoy her again.
Sora went up and down ten times, and by the last round, her control was much improved.
Satisfied that she’d mastered the spell, she released her command of the particles and landed back on the shrine floor as gracefully as if she were a flying carpet.
“You’re awfully smug for just making yourself go up and down,” Hana said. “Let’s see how smug you are after this.” She glanced at the reed mat beneath Sora. Its edges leaped to attention, flying up and lifting Sora into the air. It wrapped her inside. Then it squeezed itself, rolling more tightly, trapping her like a human spring roll.
Sora struggled with her arms clamped by her sides. The mat pressed in on her, almost crushing her ribs. She could manage only shallow breaths.
With her arms pinned, she couldn’t use a knife to slice her way out. She tried to command ryuu particles to retrieve her knife for her, but even they couldn’t do it, because her blades were stashed in various pockets and sleeves, which were also smashed tightly against her inside the mat.