“Blue!” I burst, running straight for her.
She’s slumped against a chunk of blasted gate, legs stretched before her. Her usually glossy hair is matted to her skin with sweat. There are patches on her navy robes, blood I hope doesn’t belong to her.
“Nine,” she says. Her eyes shift. “Lady Hanno.”
It’s the second time I’ve been grateful to hear that sardonic voice. I drop to my knees and throw my arms around her. We’re both trembling. I clutch her tight, and after a few beats her hesitant arms wrap around me, before she’s hugging me back with the same ferocity she usually reserves for terrorizing me with.
I look over her, hunting for signs she’s hurt. “What in the gods are you doing here?” I demand. She doesn’t seem injured, though from the way she’s rubbing it I can tell her leg is bothering her. “How did you even get here? I didn’t see you among the soldiers.”
“One of the carriages,” she says. She adds, quiet, “I have my reasons to hate this place, too, Lei.”
I clutch her shoulders. “I can’t believe you’re here.”
“Neither can I. I didn’t—” A shudder travels through her. “I didn’t think I’d make it. Not after… that. I thought after we escaped, I knew what I was doing. That I could handle this. I—I had no idea. I hid in the carriage for as long as I could. Even though I heard others dying outside. Some of them were calling for help. I didn’t help them. Is that terrible?” She gives a barking laugh. “Of course it’s terrible.”
“Blue,” I say, my heart aching at her venom, directed for once at herself. “You’ve been so brave just to come at all. You have no reason to be ashamed. Not one.”
She avoids my eyes. “I have plenty.”
“Ah,” comes a loud, feline voice. “I see you’ve discovered our little stowaway. I’ve got to hand it to you Paper Girls, you are full of surprises.”
“Lo!” Wren cries.
The two of them embrace. Then another cat demon joins us, and it’s my turn to cry out.
“Nitta!”
She laughs in her bright, husky way as I launch myself at her, burying my face in her fur. “Hello, Princess,” she mutters. “It’s good to see you.”
I pull back, surveying her with the same urgency I used on Blue. “Are you hurt?”
“By those weaklings?” She makes a dismissive noise. “As if. But I’ve got some mean blisters from my chair. Look at the size of them! I’ll be asking my designer for some modifications as soon as we’re back home,” she says, nodding in Lova’s direction.
Home.
The word glimmers in the air, palpable.
Bloodstained, wounded, the atmosphere still tense, and back in the one place I’d give anything to never have to set foot in again, the thought of home seems so distant.
“It’s almost over,” Nitta whispers, as if reading my thoughts. She gives me a crooked smile. “Just got to hang in a little longer.”
“Oh, that’s Nine’s specialty,” Blue says. “It’s getting rid of her that’s the hard part.”
I laugh and throw my arms back around her. Though she groans, she doesn’t push me off.
“Point proven,” she grumbles.
“Is it true?” Lova inquires in a low tone. “The shamans are saying magic has somehow disappeared.”
“It’s true,” Wren confirms.
“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry.”
“Do you know if they’ve spoken to my father about it?”
Nitta is looking ahead. “I think we’re about to find out.”
Over by the ruined gates, Ketai has climbed a slab of black stone. One by one, the soldiers take notice and quiet ripples through the square, punctured by the groans of the wounded.
The Hanno Clan Lord stands tall, long robes rippling in the wind. The glow of the new day gilds his outline where he’s framed by the maw of the wrecked gates, the fires in the battlefield beyond still trailing smoke. Sweat-slick hair falls over his brow. Splashes of blood paint his skin.
“Warriors!” he calls. “Friends and allies. Look at what we have accomplished! The King’s walls have been brought down for the first time in two hundred years!”
While there are cheers, our own group watches with stony faces. From somewhere, a woman’s sobs mar the hush.
“And yet,” Ketai continues, “for all your bravery, I’m afraid I must ask more of you yet.” His eyes pause on Wren and me before continuing to sweep his audience. “The King has gathered all remaining guards in the Inner Courts, where he and the rest of the court are hiding. I know you are tired. I know you have suffered great losses. But we cannot lose momentum now. We must make one final push! See to your injuries, lay the fallen to rest. You have fifteen minutes. Then we charge on! Every death, every wound, every bit of pain you feel right now has led us here. Let us not waste a single drop of it!”
Some of the soldiers punch fists into the air to match the hand Ketai himself is now brandishing.
“We will avenge our fallen!” he cries. “We will tear the court down! Too long have they hurt us, have driven our great land into discord and sickness. Today, we put an end to the Demon King’s corruptive rule!” He throws both arms high. “TO OUR IKHARA!”
“OUR IKHARA!” the army echoes.
Ketai leaps, disappearing into the tide of renewed soldiers.
“Have you noticed,” Lova says, “all these speeches start to sound the same after a while? Doesn’t matter which clan leader is making them.” She lifts a shoulder. “Never been a fan of them, myself.”
“No,” Nitta says. “You’re more one for drunken group singing for clan bonding.”
“Drunken anything, really.” Lova sighs. “I can’t wait to get back to my deserts. There’s a particularly wonderful blend of spiced rhum I’ve been infusing for some time now. I think the end of a war is an adequate reason to crack it out, don’t you?”
“Let’s get to the end, first,” Wren replies.
I move to her side. “Your father didn’t mention the magical blackout,” I mutter.
“I don’t think he wants to worry the soldiers. I wouldn’t.”
“Are you worried?”
“Of course. Especially because it affects our plans to get to the King.”
Wren draws me away from the group so we can’t be overheard.
Before Ketai asked me to sacrifice myself, it was going to be me, Wren, Lova, Khuen, Kenzo, and Merrin who went to ambush the King while the rest of our army kept his forces distracted. Shaman enchantments were going to keep us hidden.
“We’ll have to move through the palace undetected without the help of magic,” Wren says.
I raise a brow. “Kenzo and Merrin are pretty noticeable. And Lova isn’t known for her stealth.”
“No,” Wren agrees. “She isn’t.”
“But,” I say, “a pair of human girls who know the palace by heart and are used to having to make themselves small in the presence of demons…”
Wren hesitates. “Lei—”