Fairy shrugged, but it wasn’t as casual as she hoped it would look. “Besides trying to convince myself that dying for Kichona really is an honor, joking about it is all I can do. Help me by not moping over it, all right?”
He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. He saw her in a different light now, and it wasn’t just the desert sun. She held herself taller, those birdlike shoulders more eagle than sparrow. Her lips had a determined set to them too, which was somehow more entrancing than the normal pink pout that all the other boys wanted. And that flash of vulnerability in her eyes made her more real. In the past, Fairy had been almost all show. Now she was courageous but also afraid, and that made her not merely pretty, but beautiful.
Daemon had known Fairy was strong, but offering herself as a decoy for the empress, risking almost certain death, was a magnitude of devotion and duty many could claim to possess, but only a rare few actually did.
“Don’t worry,” he said to Fairy. “We’re not going to let the Dragon Prince capture or kill you, if we can help it. He’s already taken Sora. We’re not going down without a fight.”
“Thank you.” Fairy wrapped her arms around Daemon and leaned heavily against his chest.
It was his turn to hold her up.
That evening, Daemon paced the edge of the bluff, keeping watch as the wind made the sand ripple like an ocean. Prince Gin and his ryuu were coming. He could feel it, even though his gemina connection with Sora was silent, and even though the Imperial Guard lookouts hadn’t seen movement on the desert floor below.
There was a small chance that the Dragon Prince would actually want to negotiate with Empress Aki. If that was the case, the taigas hoped that Fairy resembled the empress enough that the decade that had passed since the Blood Rift would be explanation for the changes in her appearance. Then the burden would be on Fairy’s acting skills. Empress Aki had given her a crash course in her mannerisms and, more important, on terms that were acceptable for a temporary cease-fire.
But honestly, the chance of that happening was very, very slim, and Daemon and the others here were just buying a little more time for the Society to move the rest of its warriors into place to prepare for a showdown in the Imperial City. Most likely, the Dragon Prince was going to kill his sister. Why leave her alive if he could take over the kingdom in one fell swoop?
Daemon stopped on the southern part of the plateau.
Fairy could die. And the rest of the taigas here—maybe me too—could be brainwashed puppets. Very soon.
The Society had sent only thirty taigas to Copper Bluff. The Council and most of the Imperial Guards remained in the capital to protect the real empress. They had sent just enough of a contingent to look believable that Fairy was Empress Aki, yet not too many that Prince Gin would find a windfall of taigas to bring to his side.
Daemon’s stomach curled into a ball and cowered.
We are sacrificing ourselves for the sake of the kingdom.
Broomstick stepped up beside him, glanced over, and put his fists over his heart. No words were necessary.
Daemon nodded and mirrored the gesture.
They were sacrifices. But they would go down fighting.
Chapter Forty-Seven
On the third day after the dragonfly message at the Striped Coves, a dozen Imperial Guards stood outside Empress Aki’s tent in Dassu Desert. Another dozen patrolled a bit farther out, like an orbit around the empress, and a handful more kept watch still farther out along the edges of Copper Bluff, looking for the approach of the Dragon Prince’s army.
Sora and Hana had made themselves invisible on the climb up to the plateau, commanding the ryuu particles to sweep away their footprints in the sand along the way. Now they were at the very edge. The Imperial Guards couldn’t see them, and so they remained standing in their places, vigilant but relaxed. Hana would create a diversion and take care of the guards here and the others who would charge in from the outer parts of the plateau. Sora would take advantage of the distraction and execute the empress.
As soon as they summited the bluff, Sora made to sprint to the tent.
Hana grabbed her by the wrist. “Hold on, you’re being sloppy. You’re—” She dropped Sora’s wrist like it had scalded her. “You’re burning up!”
Sora grinned as she nodded. Every cell inside of her seemed to be on fire. She could hardly think straight. Everything in her head was an accelerated, blurry swirl. It was a fever, but not the kind that would confine her to bed—this was a fever of anticipation.
“I’m going to garrote the empress with her own gold hair. But before that, I’m going to tell her all the things we’re going to do once Prince Gin is emperor. All the ways he’s going to dismantle her kingdom and rebuild it. All the glory we’ll achieve. She tried to prevent us from making Kichona into an empire and paradise, but the joke’s on her—she’ll die and we’ll still get the Evermore.”
Hana’s eyes were as big as Autumn Festival cakes. “Um . . . okay.”
Sora blinked at her, confused. “You don’t want me to make the empress suffer?”
“No, yes, I mean . . . just don’t take too long doing it. More time means more opportunity to mess up. The most important thing is that Empress Aki dies.”
Sora grinned again, the flame growing inside as she thought about carrying out the Dragon Prince’s orders. “I can do that.”
Hana watched her for another minute before nodding. “All right. Remember the objective. Don’t lose your head. Let’s go.”
They sneaked closer to Empress Aki’s tent, pausing as necessary to weave between the Imperial Guards on patrol. When they were fifty yards away, a servant walked out of the tent. She held the flap open for a moment as she talked to one of the nearby guards.
Sora glanced at Hana.
“Good luck,” Hana whispered.
“I don’t need luck.” Sora winked.
The servant finished her conversation and was leaving to fetch something. Sora darted for the tent.
She slipped inside just as the flap swung shut.
Chapter Forty-Eight
Fairy’s tent—actually, the empress’s—was expansive, as befitting royalty. Flickering candles in glass pyramids hung from the ceiling, lighting the main room with their soft glow. A plush sofa took up one of the far corners of the tent, its blue silk upholstery hemmed in gold, several fluffy pillows positioned at the armrests. There was a dining area, with a low table and comfortable cushions on the floor, and the entire tent was perfumed with the sweetness of sparkling rose-apple sidra. It was an expensive luxury from the north of Kichona, and if Fairy was going to die masquerading as the empress, she might as well enjoy these last moments as if she really were royalty.
In the back of the tent, in a portion partitioned off by a heavy velvet curtain, Fairy sipped on the sidra while sitting at the empress’s vanity. Her gold hair was done in curls and braids, and her gown flowed elegantly to the carpeted ground. It was the prettiest she’d ever looked, but she didn’t preen as she might’ve before. Instead, she wore the clothes with a mixture of dread and pride. Dread, because she was all dolled up for her funeral. Pride, because she’d volunteered for this.
Broomstick and Wolf lounged on a couple of armchairs. The Imperial Guards were outside, patrolling the bluff and protecting all sides of the tent.
“You don’t have to stay here with me,” Fairy said, as she painted eyeliner in dramatic wings like the empress wore. “In fact, you should really get as far away as possible from this tent. The closer you are, the more likely you’ll die when the ryuu come for me.” Her hands shook, and the eyeliner went a bit jagged.
“I’m not leaving your side,” Broomstick said. He fiddled with a new kind of fuse he’d been working on. The taiga weapons masters were always looking to improve the Society’s arsenal, and Broomstick had offered to help with developing a new smoke bomb. But his hands were shaking too. Their entire gemina bond was.
Wolf polished his sword furiously. It was already as shiny as a mirror. “You’ve been insisting that we leave since I got here—and probably before that—but stop. We’re not going to let you die. Or if you do, we’re going to die with you.”
Fairy’s eyes welled with tears, and she stopped trying to fix her crooked makeup. Maybe it was selfish, but if this was the end, she really did want her friends by her side. She nodded, unable to say anything.
“Do you think they’re close?” Broomstick asked. None of them believed Prince Gin would follow instructions and send only two ryuu.
She dabbed away her tears—the eyeliner was a mess now, but who cared—and said, “The Imperial Guards will sound the alarm once they see the ryuu approach.”