“I’ll go first,” she starts.
A scream escapes my lips before I have time to silence myself.
Claws have clasped my ankle. I kick out, horrified. The demon lets go with a moan. There’s the sound of scraping nails; the rustle of something moving in the dark. I fumble for my knife, a shriek rising in my throat as grasping fingers find the hem of my trousers again, tightening with surprising force.
A hand clamps my mouth.
There’s a metallic shing, and then I’m pulled with Wren as she lances down with her sword.
The guard goes still.
Wren releases me, and I stagger back, bumping against the wall. Though my chest is heaving, I manage to keep quiet as both of us strain to listen for signs we might have been heard—or that any of the other guards might also still be alive.
“I’m sorry for grabbing you like that,” Wren says.
“I’m sorry for screaming. Let’s get going.”
She doesn’t move. “Lei, we can’t afford something like that happening in the palace. Maybe you should—”
“If you suggest I stay behind one more time,” I growl, “I swear to the gods I’ll knock you out and go there on my own.” Then I start up the steps before Wren can test me on my threat.
At the top, muted noises sink through the stone covering. There are shouted orders, beating boots, the clink of armor and weaponry. Nothing too loud. Our army can’t have made it to the building yet.
“Lei,” Wren whispers. Her fingertips graze my cheek. “Once we get out, there’s not going to be another time to say this—”
I kiss her fiercely. Her hands wind around me, grasping me back just as firmly. Kissing her feels like breathing. Like coming up for air after a long, difficult swim.
When I pull away, I say, “No good-byes, remember?”
“How about I love you’s?”
I brush her cheek, my eyes welling. “We’re going to have the rest of our lives for those,” I say. Then I reach up, and she joins me in pushing aside the slab.
After the darkness of the tunnel, the daylight is blinding. I squint like a newborn as we clamber out. Sounds that were dimmed now blast at full volume, a staccato of activity and that drumlike undercurrent of fighting, not quite so distant-sounding anymore.
“It sounds like they’re right outside Royal Court,” I murmur.
Wren’s eyes roam the courtyard. We’re crouched behind a bamboo trellis lining the back of the square. Flowers weave through it to make a colorful tapestry, as well as the perfect hiding spot for the tunnel. Around us, the smooth white marble of the walls stretches high, carved windows dotting their sides.
“Where are the guards?” I say, peering past fluttering petals. “Darya said there’d be some.”
“They must have been called to join the battle.”
“That’s good, isn’t it? It means we must be winning.”
Wren doesn’t reply, and I realize with a cold flush the other reason the King would have sent these guards from such an important post: that our side is so weakened he is sure a few extra soldiers will finish us off.
“Do you know where we are?” Wren asks.
I match the details of the courtyard with my mental map of the palace. “We’re in the Moon Annexe, somewhere in the northeast corner, judging by the windows and the angle of the roof. I’ll know more once we’re in the corridor. Where do you think the King is? His chambers?”
“He’ll be in the Ancestral Hall. It’s where they bring the King whenever there’s a threat to him or the palace. Being at the heart of the building, it’s the easiest room to guard. It’s where we had our Unveiling Ceremony.”
Memories flash through my mind. A black-curtained archway. All the girls in a line. Wren, stunning in her gunmetal cheongsam, telling me, Now you look ready. A vast stepped hall surrounded by viewing balconies and the shining waters of a pool at its center. And the King—the first time I saw him, and him me.
I’d tripped on the hem of my dress on my way to him, falling face-first into the pool. His booming laughter echoed so loudly I could still hear it days after.
I’d felt humiliated. Not because I cared that I’d fallen, but because he’d treated me as if I were a joke. The last thing I wanted to be in his eyes was weak.
The King underestimated me then—and today, he’ll die at my hands in the place he first set eyes on me, just a clumsy Paper Girl who didn’t know how to walk in a cheongsam.
Suddenly, I’m eager to be in that hall once more. To see the look on the King’s face as he realizes that despite his best efforts, he didn’t break us.
With my knowledge of the building, it only takes me ten minutes to bring us within a couple of corridors of the Ancestral Hall, taking care to avoid busy routes. As a group of maids appear, I usher Wren into a storeroom to hide. Their voices bubble as they pass.
“I can’t believe what Jing-yi told us—”
“No one thought they’d make it through the outer wall, either, but they did—”
“Surely they won’t be able to get through Royal Court, too. Almost every soldier is out there now—”
“We’re sitting ducks!”
“Sangu, don’t say that!”
“Well, it’s true! We should run, go to the other courts to hide like Madam Reena’s girls did—”
“And get ourselves executed once the court finds out we abandoned our duties? The King is going to win. He always does. They’ve already captured two of their most important warriors, remember? And most of their soldiers are Papers. How much longer can they last?”
Wren watches me as their voices trail away.
“Don’t think about it,” I say, even as my own mind goes there—two of their most important warriors—their faces flashing in front of my eyes: Nitta, Merrin, Kenzo, Lova. “After this corridor, we have two possible routes. If we stay on this floor, we arrive at the hall’s main entrance. If we go up a floor, we can enter by one of the viewing galleries.”
Wren considers. “The galleries will be easier to access and will draw less attention, but they’ll still be guarded. They make good placements for archers to watch over the room.”
“The one above the King’s throne,” I say. “I remember it being smaller than the others. If we can take out the archers there, we’ll have the perfect spot to ambush him.”
After checking the way is clear, we head down the hall then along another one, before going up a narrow set of servant stairways to the second floor. We’re almost there now, the archway of the viewing gallery right at the end of the passage. My nerves buzz as we jog toward it; we’re so close I can make out the ripples in the curtain’s vermillion silks, the tiny tear in its lower right corner—
“You there! General Naja ordered all Steel soldiers to the battlefield!”
The shout echoes down the corridor.
Everything happens too quickly for me to react.
Wren’s hand slams into my back, shoving me forward.
I tumble, rolling into the gallery through the curtain.