Blood pumps in my ears as I lift my gaze to meet Madam Himura’s piercing yellow eyes. She’s incensed, her feathers sticking on end. She drops Chenna unceremoniously—and comes for me.
My fingers are torn from Aoki’s as the eagle-woman kocks me off my feet. I slam into the marble. Madam Himura pins me down. One knee presses my chest, right below my sternum. I gasp emptily as she leers over me.
“I have her!” she screeches. “I have the Moonchosen!”
Her triumphant cry pitches into a shriek as she’s dragged off me. Hands—small Paper hands—clutch at her feathers, the ruff at her neck, her winged arms.
I push myself up, winded, to see the remaining girls—the twins, Blue, even Aoki—wrestling Madam Himura to the floor. Behind them, one of Chenna’s arms is visible, flung where she fell. Her hand is turned up, long, slim fingers open, as if expecting something to drop into her palm. Not that she could catch it. Not now.
Chenna. Dead.
The thought paralyzes me.
Nearby, Commander Razib, still leaking blood, fights with Mistress Azami. The magic-powered whirlwind buzzes furiously around us, a kaleidoscope of sparks and ruby droplets. Beyond, there’s the dim shadow of battling figures. Shamans and guards, both allies and enemy. Fighting to get to us—and fighting to get us out.
The girls are still struggling to hold Madam Himura.
“The sword!” Blue yells.
It’s still stuck in the shaman’s back. I yank it free and stand over Madam Himura. She strains, spittle flying from her beaked mouth. The girls restrain her, Zhen practically lying on her in her effort to keep her down. They are strong.
We are strong.
Stronger, together.
“L-Lei,” Madam Himura chokes.
She looks stricken, truly scared for the first time, just like Chenna earlier. Two women, usually so composed, threatening to come undone in their final moments. Yet while Chenna remained collected, self-possessed even at the very end, Madam Himura is unraveling.
A final word scrapes from her. “Please…”
“Look away,” I tell the girls, though only Aoki does, burying her head in Blue’s shoulder.
I score the blade in one sure movement across Madam Himura’s throat.
Zhin yelps, turning as blood splatters her cheek. But her sister stares, along with Blue and me, the three of us watching as blood spills down Madam Himura’s feathers and she makes her last sounds, gargled and muffled, until her eyes roll back.
Eyes that spent so long judging and disparaging us. Eyes we feared, felt we’d never be free from their inscrutable glower. The first demon eyes at the palace that ever evaluated us and found us lacking.
A whir of movement to my left snatches my attention.
Commander Razib and Mistress Azami’s duel has come to a close.
The girls gasp, but I only watch in horrified silence as the dog-woman—Mistress of the Night Houses, ally to the Hannos, protector of Kenzo and Lill, my friend—is lifted off her feet, Commander Razib’s half moon blade buried so deep in her torso its hooked tip sticks from her back. She grips the blood-slick handle where it’s embedded between her breasts with both hands, her face ashen. A crimson line trails from one corner of her mouth.
She doesn’t cry out or whimper—she won’t give the Commander the satisfaction. Instead, with what must be a supernova-level of effort, she looks to me. “Go to Kenzo,” she breathes.
Then her head slumps.
The Commander slams her down, placing a hoof on her chest to rip his parang free with a wet, sickening tear.
I reach for the hand of the girl nearest to me, not even knowing who it is, and shout, “Run!”
The whorl of fireflies follows, tightening so Commander Razib is immediately engulfed as he gives chase. I lead the girls in what I hope is the right direction, barely able to see past the buzzing cloud, as the Commander’s growls of frustration die behind us.
Another shout rings out: the King.
“CAPTURE THE MOONCHOSEN! KILL THE OTHERS!”
I sprint fast, dragging whoever it is along with me, praying the others are keeping up. The crash of swordfight sends shockwaves through the air. There are thuds as bodies are flung against the columns and floor.
We reach the doorway and skid out into the hallway.
The fireflies scatter, too distant from the reach of their shamans’ binds. My ears pop. The sounds from the room are muffled here, barely more than a rumbling murmur. The King must have wanted the shamans to keep out the sounds of the girls’ executions, and now his plan has backfired, keeping the noise of what’s actually happening from drawing the attention of the rest of the palace.
I lead the girls westward. By now I know the King’s fortress by heart: another failure of his arrogance, not believing I’d be able to escape from him a second time and use my new knowledge of the palace to do so. I take us down passageways and staircases, heading for a servants’ entrance I know is minimally guarded.
We pass a few maids, who fling themselves out of our way with surprised squawks. When we cross three guards, I dispose of them with the sword I used to kill Madam Himura, her blood still coating it red. The demons are strong, but somehow I am stronger. My blood is wrath and vengeance. Recklessness and desperation.
“Arm yourselves,” I say, panting over the guards’ bodies.
After a moment’s hesitation, Zhen and Blue take weapons from two of them. Aoki is still blinking dazedly. Zhin backs away with a whimper.
“Zhin!” her sister hisses, shaking her by the shoulders. “You want to live, don’t you? You want to see Mama and Baba and Allum again?”
Zhin whimpers louder. Madam Himura’s blood stains her cheeks; more red coats her hands from the shaman she cut down earlier. “We’re killing…” she whispers. “I killed…” Realizing she won’t be able to do so herself, Zhen stoops, prizes the pata from the clenched hand of the last guard, and pushes it on her sister.
At the sound of running footsteps, Zhin starts, fingers closing around the sword. I grab Aoki and the five of us disappear around the corner just in time. There’s shouting as guards stumble upon the bodies of their comrades.
“The whole palace will be looking for us now,” Blue hisses at me. “How in the gods are we meant to escape?”
“We just need to make it to the Night Houses,” I say. “That’s where Kenzo is hiding. He’ll know what to do.”
“Kenzo.” Disbelief etches her words. “General Kenzo Ryu? Isn’t he imprisoned at Lunar Lake for treason?”
“Our allies got him out. Mistress Azami’s been hiding him—”
I break off at the clashing of an alarm.
All of a sudden, the hallways are alive with noise as guards respond to the warning bells. I drag the girls into a small courtyard with a water fountain to let them pass. Once the way is clear, we dart back out.