“I’m sorry,” she said to Broomstick. She grabbed Daemon’s bo and whacked Broomstick in the back of the head. He slumped to the carpeted floor.
Daemon gaped, not understanding what had suddenly changed—again—in Sora. But he had daggers in both hands, poised to fight.
“I don’t have time to explain,” Sora said. “But you have to trust me.” She commanded the ryuu particles to knock him unconscious. He sprawled out across the floor.
Hana pushed through the tent flaps, just as Sora caught the empress’s body in her arms. She held her in a headlock again, Empress Aki’s back pressed against Sora’s chest.
“Stay quiet,” Sora whispered so quietly, her words almost got lost in the swirls of the empress’s gold hair. “I have to pretend to kill you right now. If I don’t, my sister will do it for real in about thirty seconds.”
She reached for the tiny, hidden pocket sewn into the inside of her collar and retrieved the pink rira disk that was meant to be Sora’s way out if things went awry. She broke off half of it and crammed it in Empress Aki’s mouth.
“This much won’t kill you, but it’ll slow your vital systems to the point of seeming like you’re dead. You’ll wake up in about a week, maybe less. Understand?”
The empress nodded her head but didn’t say anything. Thank the gods.
“Good, now swallow it.”
Empress Aki did as she was told.
“Are you taking your time torturing her to death, or what?” Hana asked. Her voice grew nearer. From the sound of it, she was halfway across the tent, although she hesitated in the middle, as if debating whether she could actually watch the assassination she couldn’t execute herself.
The rira would hit the empress’s bloodstream soon, but Sora still needed an explanation for why there wouldn’t be a visible garrote wound across her throat. She’d have to make a show of the empress’s death for Hana to witness.
I’m sorry for what I’m about to do, she said silently to Empress Aki.
Sora wrapped her left hand around her throat. The feel of the empress’s fragile neck sickened Sora.
But this was what she had to do to save the kingdom.
Sora tightened her fingers. Empress Aki let out a frantic, gurgling cry. Tears formed in Sora’s eyes. She held the leader of Kichona’s life in her hands.
The velvet curtain flew open, revealing Hana on the other side.
Empress Aki gave a final, weak writhe against Sora’s grasp. Then she went limp as Sora pushed on a pressure point while pretending to snap her neck.
Sora swallowed the nausea cresting inside her and dropped Empress Aki down to the ground. She slumped like a sack of rice.
“What took you so long?” Hana asked. “I dispatched thirty taigas out there, while you took care of . . . two?” She kicked Daemon’s side. Luckily, he and Broomstick were both facedown. Not that Hana would have recognized them after the decade that had passed since she saw them last, but still. Sora exhaled a little in relief.
“I was savoring the moment,” Sora said. She narrowed her eyes and smiled, as if wickedly gleeful at her victory, as a ryuu would be. “I told her all the things Prince Gin is going to do for Kichona. All the things that will change once she’s dead.”
That made Hana smile too.
And it made Sora angry. Angry that her sister had been raised to believe in Prince Gin’s greedy goals. Angry that she had been molded from a sweet little girl into a bloodthirsty one. Angry that they were on opposite sides of this war.
But I will fix this, Sora swore. She would go back with Hana to the ryuu and work on swaying her away from the Dragon Prince while they marched toward the Imperial City. And then when they were close, she and Hana would break away and rejoin the taigas at the Citadel. They knew a lot about the ryuu; Hana probably knew of weaknesses the Society could exploit.
They would be the Teira sister team, but on the side of good. As it was supposed to be.
“Well, there’s nothing left to do here,” Hana said. “I guess we have to get the empress’s body back to Prince Gin now.”
She hesitated, though.
She’s still having trouble with the idea of the empress being murdered, Sora thought. Which boded well for Sora’s hopes of persuading Hana away from the Dragon Prince’s side.
“I’ll take care of the body,” Sora said.
Hana smiled bravely. “Thank you. I’ll, um, wait for you outside.”
As she left the tent, Sora stooped to pick up Empress Aki. It was the first time she looked at her face-to-face.
Oh gods. It wasn’t the empress. It was Fairy in disguise.
If it hadn’t been for Daemon’s strange ability to shock Sora out of Prince Gin’s spell, she would have killed Fairy, thinking she was the empress. Actually, she would have killed Daemon and Broomstick too, when they tried to defend Fairy.
“Stars,” Sora whispered, falling to her hands and knees. Prince Gin’s ability to brainwash everyone he came across was terrifying. He told us to stop at nothing. He told us bloodshed was good. I . . . I would have murdered my best friends.
She saw clearly now what he could do when he had control of every magical warrior in Kichona and took them across the sea to ravage the mainland. They would be a tsunami of death, ruination with no mercy.
Sora doubled over and vomited onto the floor.
Chapter Fifty
Daemon came to shortly after Sora was gone. He shook Broomstick lightly to wake him. There were a hundred thoughts racing through Daemon’s head, but the first—and most important—one was:
“Fairy.”
He jumped to his feet, but she was nowhere to be found.
“She was right here,” he said.
Broomstick shoved through the velvet curtain and began overturning everything in the tent. “Fairy! Where are you?”
“They took her,” Daemon said, running past Broomstick. He stopped short as he burst out of the tent.
Imperial Guards. Some on the ground. Some suspended upright, as if held up by invisible string. Pools of blood, coagulating and sticky and already attracting flies with their iron tang.
And every single warrior was missing body parts—arms, legs, entire midsections of their torsos. The absent parts were nowhere to be seen.
“Good gods,” Daemon said. Why hadn’t Prince Gin hypnotized them, like he had at the other cities? Why kill these taigas?
Broomstick emerged from the tent and froze in horror when he saw the grisly murders.
“Is she . . . ?” he whispered.
Daemon shook his head. “Fairy isn’t among them.”
Broomstick exhaled in relief. But then his eyes grew wide again. “Just because she isn’t here doesn’t mean she’s alive. The ryuu meant to kill Empress Aki.”
Oh no, Daemon thought. Prince Gin must not have come. That’s why Sora and the other ryuu killed the Imperial Guards, instead of adding them to their army.
“I think Fairy is gone because the ryuu had to take her body back to the Dragon Prince as proof,” Daemon said.
“No.” Broomstick crumpled to the ground, not caring that he collapsed among dismembered corpses.
It still didn’t add up, though. I got through to Sora, I’m sure of it, Daemon thought. If she had her mind back, she wouldn’t have killed Fairy. She would have thought of some way to trick the other ryuu into thinking Fairy—the empress—was dead.
To test his theory, he reached out through their gemina bond. It was the kind of gentle nudge he and Sora would always send each other in the mornings, to check if the other was awake.
A moment later, a reassuring nudge came back to him, like the foamy touch of low tide on bare feet.
Daemon nodded. She was all right.
He pulled Broomstick up and out of the graveyard of mutilated bodies. “Sora’s with Fairy. She’ll keep her safe.”
“Are you mad? Did you not see what I saw? Spirit is a ryuu. We have to go after Fairy.” He started to run toward the dirt road that led down the side of the bluff.
Daemon caught up and grabbed him. “Sora is still one of us.”
“You’re not thinking clearly,” Broomstick said, every single one of his knives in his hands. “She’s your gemina. It’s affecting your judgment.”
“And the fact that Fairy is your gemina is affecting your judgment,” Daemon said. “But . . . okay. Test your gemina bond. Can you still feel her on the other end?”
Broomstick pursed his lips as he tried to connect to Fairy. “No. It’s like a cemetery in my head,” he said, choking back his despair.
“Sora must have done something to knock her out. If they have to present a body to Prince Gin, Fairy has to look like a dead empress.”
Broomstick shook his head skeptically.