There was my embroidery frame in the corner—ah, I was almost done making a purse for Lady Tainak. She’d wanted it embroidered with a scene of the Three Great Beauties. I still had to finish the Beauty who was playing the lute. Her face was difficult to sew—I’d never been good at embroidering noses.
But where were Keton and Sendo?
I stepped into Baba’s shop, and my fingers brushed over our inventory of silks, satins, and brocades.
Sendo must be hiding somewhere, his nose in a pattern book. An adventure story tucked into its pages, of course.
“Maia!” I heard someone shout. The voice was deep and familiar, but distant.
I glanced out the shopwindow and saw a hawk. His yellow eyes shone, bright as two fervent flames. He let out a small cry, but it dwindled into oblivion as the wind carried him away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
All my fear dissolved, forgotten, as I walked deeper into Baba’s shop. I moved slowly, taking everything in—the wooden counters freshly wiped clean, the tapered cut of Baba’s trousers, the blue porcelain vases full of fresh orchids and lilies, the satin jackets that hung on the southwest wall.
And the dresses! At least a dozen beautiful gowns, ready for their owners to collect. They were so fine. The skirts flared like lanterns, the sleeves light and wispy, trimmed with embroidered silk.
Had I helped make any of them? I couldn’t remember.
I picked up my pace. I needed to find Sendo. Where was he?
The aroma of Mama’s porridge was back. It wafted across the shop, sending pangs of hunger to my stomach. I followed the smell toward the weaving room, but Finlei waved me away from the looms.
“Maia,” he called. “Let’s go to the marketplace.”
I whirled to face my oldest brother. “Now?”
“Of course now. Seize the wind, Maia! There’s a new shipment of wool from Samaran that’s supposed to be softer than a camel’s foot. If we go early, we can buy some before our competitors beat us to it.” His jaw squared into a protective brotherly look. “And you can point out that ruffian who Keton says always bothers you by the temple.”
I chuckled. “I can take care of myself, Finlei.” Tempted as I was to go with him, I drew back. “You’re just eager to leave the shop. Go ahead, I’ll join you after I greet everyone.”
I pushed past a rosewood screen, past a room of workers at their spinning wheels, into the kitchen. Keton was there, his hair longer than I remembered. Then again, why would he have cut it? He’d never gone to war. He was washing dishes—no doubt it was a punishment for something he’d done this morning—and a stalk of sugarcane stuck out of his back pocket. I was tempted to tell him to put it away before Mama saw—she didn’t like it when he indulged his sweet tooth. But he didn’t turn around to greet me, so I left him alone.
And continued deeper into the kitchen.
“Mama,” I breathed.
“Lunch will be ready soon,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. Behind her, a large pot boiled. I inhaled, savoring the smells of chicken with cabbage and salted fish.
“Do you need help?” I asked.
“No, no,” Mama replied, pouring rice wine into the pot and covering it. “I’ve the maids. They’re outside with the oven now, baking coconut buns and taro puffs. Your favorite.” She started frying pork with cabbage and cracked a salted egg into the pan. Oil splattered, and the fumes wafted to my nose. I inhaled greedily.
“Are you hungry?”
My stomach rumbled. “Famished.”
“Good,” Mama said over the crackling meat. “Make sure Baba eats. He’s been working so hard he forgets his meals.” She chuckled; then she turned.
Why did it feel like it’d been years since I’d last seen her face? I almost didn’t recognize her—the soft freckles on her nose and cheeks, the gentle curl of her black hair, her round, smiling eyes. She took a step toward me, her arms open for an embrace.
I wanted to hug her more than anything, yet for some reason I held back. “Do you know where Sendo is?”
“He’s upstairs,” Mama said.
Was there a staircase in Baba’s shop? “Upstairs?”
Mama pretended not to hear me. She dipped a ladle into the pot, stirred, and offered me a taste. “Come, Maia. Try this.”
“Later, Mama.” I shook my head, still puzzling over this mysterious staircase. But as I left the kitchen, there it was. The stairs were steep and uneven, and I clutched the rail as I ascended. There were many more steps than there ought to have been. They wound up and out of the shop, so high I could no longer smell Mama’s cooking.
My legs grew heavy, and my breath grew short. But the sound of someone singing and the soft strumming of a lute lured me to the top, promising that my search wouldn’t be in vain.
“East of the sun, the sapphire seas gleam. Dance with me, sing with me….”
I hummed along. I knew the melody, but I always forgot the words.
Like Edan. I shook my head. Who in the Nine Heavens is Edan?
The song grew louder as I finally reached the top of the stairs. There a narrow hallway awaited me. This was familiar, yes. My parents’ bedroom was to the right. Which meant Sendo’s was—
I turned left, and my hand pressed against the door to slide it open.
The singing stopped; my heart gave a lurch.
There was Sendo. Alive. Breathing. Whole.
Relief bloomed in me. Then the relief grew into wonder, so that whatever string tethered me to the earth snapped and I floated up and up with joy.
Of course he was alive. Why would I think he wasn’t? His warm brown eyes blinked at me, as real as the dirt we used to play in by our shophouse, and so were his freckles and the jagged scar on his left thumb from cutting himself with scissors. This was my Sendo.
I wanted to touch him—to stick out my fingers and rub the soft stubble on his chin. I wanted to sit at his feet and listen to his tales of the sailors and merchants who’d come by Baba’s shop since I’d been gone. I wanted everything to be the way it used to be…but something held me back. Maybe it was the fear that if I got too close, he would disappear. For the life of me, I could not remember why I had this fear.
“Shouldn’t you be working on that scarf for Lord Belang?” Sendo teased.
His voice startled me. I tried to crush the emotions roiling in me, but my voice cracked slightly when I spoke. “The one…the one with all the tassels?” My fingers twitched, remembering something about tassels. A carpet. I shrugged away the memory. “I hate knotting. I can do it after lunch.”
Sendo held a round-bellied lute—I hadn’t realized he knew how to play. A sailor’s hat slanted on his head, like a soupspoon about to slide off the uneven slope of his black hair. Seeing it, I felt something in me melt.
“Since when do you play the lute?”
“Don’t you remember?” he said. “You bought it for me for my birthday. I’ve been practicing every day ever since.”
Oh, I did remember now. Baba had let me take on my first customer, and allowed me to keep the money I earned from the order. It’d been enough to buy presents for everyone. My parents and my brothers. I hadn’t bought anything for myself.
I sat on his bed, stretching out my legs and crossing my ankles. A breeze tickled my bare arms from the open window.
“Someone needs to provide entertainment on a ship,” Sendo said, strumming again. “Why not me? I can write poetry and sing. And I can tie knots better than anyone in Gangsun.”
“Sewing knots are very different from sailing knots,” I rebuked him gently. “Besides, Baba will never let you become a sailor.”
“He doesn’t need me in the shop,” Sendo persisted. “Business is doing so well. We have twelve hired hands now.” He stilled the lute strings with his fingers. “Will you talk to him about it?”
I sof
tened. Seeing him had brought an ache to my heart, as if we’d been separated for a long time. “Anything for you.”
“Thank you,” Sendo said.
I made a motion to stand, but Sendo tilted his head. His thick brows knitted.
“What’s the matter?” I asked him.
“Come closer.”
Again, I hesitated. What was holding me back?
Sendo dropped his lute on the bed. “Why are you carrying a dagger, Maia?”
I looked down. I was wearing my usual navy dress, with a sash for my needles and scissors. But Sendo was right—a dagger hung at my side.
There was something familiar about it, but the memory teetered at the edge of my thoughts…ready to slide off and never be recalled again.
I bit my lip. “I don’t know.”
“Give it here,” Sendo said.
Obediently, I handed it to him. My brother stood and walked to the window. I followed, basking in the warm sunlight. The day outside was perfect. I could see the merchants’ carriages parked along the road, and children playing with dragon kites.
Sendo twirled the dagger’s silken cord. “It looks valuable. The hilt’s walnut, and the scabbard is laced with a silver stone of some sort. Meteorite, I’d say.”
“Meteorite?” I repeated. “Like from the stars?”
My stomach flipped, again with that pang of having forgotten something. Sendo tried, but he couldn’t unsheathe the dagger.
“Here,” I said. “Let me try.”
The dagger was light in my hands, and the cord was dirty with sand. Strange, I didn’t remember dropping it. Then again, I didn’t remember much of anything about the dagger.
“Jinn,” I uttered, and the scabbard released. The blade, half iron and half meteorite, flashed, catching the sun and nearly blinding me.
I shielded my eyes, and Sendo took the dagger from me.
“What was that?” he said, looking impressed. “You said something.”
I shrugged. “Some nonsense word. I guess it unlocks the scabbard.”
Sendo admired the blade by the candlelight, studying its two different sides. The metal side gleamed, while the stone edge glowed, so brightly the glare made my brother shield his eyes. “I’ve never seen a double-edged blade like this. Did someone give this to you?”
The question took me aback. “I…I don’t know.”
“Don’t let Keton see it,” he said, sheathing the dagger and putting it on the table beside him. “He won’t give it back.”
Suddenly, the sky darkened. Only minutes ago, the sun had bathed Baba’s shop, but now night fell upon us. Thick clouds drifted above, obscuring the moon, but I could see it was full and bright, as if it held a net of stars and they were about to explode into the sky.
“You aren’t going to leave us, are you?” Sendo said.
“Leave?” I repeated. “Where am I going?”
“Your memory is terrible today, Maia. The emperor invited you to become his tailor. You’re supposed to decide tonight. That’s why Mama is cooking for you. She doesn’t want you to go. Neither do I.”
“The emperor?” I repeated, blinking. “And the stars…”
What was I forgetting?
“Maia?” Sendo’s lips twisted into a scowl I’d never seen him wear before. His voice grew thick, slightly impatient. “Maia, are you listening to me?”
Sendo was never impatient. “What’s wrong?”
“You need to decide. Are you staying or are you going?”
“I don’t want to leave the family—”
“Then don’t,” Sendo said sharply. “Stay here.”
I stared at the ground, then lifted my head. Someone had told me to get rid of that bad habit. Who was it—Keton? Why would Keton say that to me? He never talked to me unless it was for a prank. But I remembered his voice. He’d sounded so sad…so grown-up.
“You look unhappy,” Sendo said, opening his arms to me. “Come here, sister.”
I started to reach out. “Wait.” I frowned. “I’m not supposed to touch you.”
Sendo laughed. It wasn’t his usual, carefree laugh. I heard an edge of irritation in it. “What?”
I tried hard to remember. I think there’s something I’m supposed to—
A gust of wind stroked my hair. I looked outside and saw a black bird with white-tipped wings. A hawk.
Something sharp stirred in me. “Edan.”
“What did you say?”
“Edan,” I whispered again. What did that mean? Why couldn’t I remember?
Sendo took slow steps toward me. He’d taken the dagger and pointed it at me. “Little sister, you’re acting strangely.”
Shadows danced along the walls. The sun had disappeared, but now so had the moon and the stars.
“Sendo…,” I said. “It’s dark.” My voice sounded small. “I’m going now.”
My brother moved to block the door. “You’re not going anywhere.”
His lute vanished, along with the window and the bed and the little bamboo stool by his dresser. As if they’d never been there.
Then his eyes sank into his skull, flaring red. In the dark, they glowed like rubies. Red as blood.
I held back a scream. “You’re not Sendo!”
“No,” he rasped. My brother’s skin withered before me, and his hair grew long and wild. Gray fur coated his skin, and his eyelids folded back, pupils constricting into tiny beads, like a wolf’s. His robe became white as bone, and a black amulet—with a crack in the middle—hung from his neck.
Around me, the walls of the bedroom flickered out of focus, then vanished, nothing more than hallucinations. I was outside, on the ramparts of the Thief’s Tower. I’d been outside the entire time.
“You’re a ghost,” I whispered. Grief welled up in me. Grief for my family, for Sendo, for the dream of everyone being happy together ripped suddenly away.
The shock scorched my insides, but my breath was cold.
“Those other creatures were ghosts,” said Sendo, dropping Edan’s dagger. He didn’t need it, not with his claws. They were curved, with razor-sharp tips that could flay my skin to ribbons. “I am something else entirely.”
CHAPTER THIRTY
I reeled away from the demon who’d taken Sendo’s form, staggering back until I hit the parapet. The stone grated against my elbows, and I looked down. Below was Lake Paduan, its waters thrashing violently. A terrible fall, but I might survive it if I didn’t hit the rocks.
The demon laughed. “Little Maia, lost and alone. Did you think your family was all together again?” He sneered. “Foolish girl. You fell for it so easily. The others usually fight harder.”
I bit my lip, choking back a sob. I’d wanted so badly for my family to be whole, and he’d used that against me. “How do you know so much about me?”
“I know everything, Maia,” rasped the demon. “You want to be the best tailor in the land. You want to be loved by your enchanter. You want to save what’s left of your family—to see your father happy, and your brother walk again.” His red eyes glittered at me. “Well, you can’t have it all. But you know that already, don’t you? You learned that when your oldest brothers died. All those nights wishing and praying you’d see them again.” He raised a claw. “Allow me to grant that wish.”
I dove just before he lunged, barely making it out of harm’s way.
Blood rushed to my head. Edan’s dagger glinted behind me, not far from the stone stairway leading to the top of the tower. I sprinted for it and, unsheathing it, dashed up the steps as fast as my feet would take me. I didn’t know what the demon was, but I’d learned from scaling Rainmaker’s Peak not to let fear overcome me. If I did, I’d be lost. Up and up I went.
The top of the tower was empty, save for a stone well in the center. Above me, the sun and moon were side b
y side. The bridge connecting them arced across the sky, a vein of shimmering silver. Once it collapsed, the blood of stars would trickle down into the well.
Still panting, I bent over the well. Inside was an endless black abyss, as deep as the tower was tall. I prayed the blood of stars would fall soon.
My ears perked at the sound of scraping, knives against stone.
The demon had followed me. His claws grated against the side of the tower, red eyes glowing as he leapt up, landing on the other side of the well.
He laughed at my raised dagger. “You barely know how to use it.”
One side is best used against man, Edan had said. The other side is made of meteorite and is best used against creatures I hope we won’t encounter.
I held the weapon close. The edge made of meteorite began to glow, and the demon’s stare turned vicious. He sprang for me and I darted away with a scream. I didn’t know how to attack him. He was thin as air at times, solid as iron at others. He crouched atop the well, leaping at me and blocking my way whenever I tried to get past. Laughing. Playing with me.
It was a game I couldn’t win. He was too fast. Just trying to avoid his razor claws left me gasping with terror. I would have to attack soon, before I became too tired.
I stopped running and faced the demon, swinging the blade with all my strength. This surprised him, but only for a second. He twisted away, and I missed, but the meteorite burned through the chain of his amulet. I grabbed it and wrenched it from his neck.
The demon retreated. His eyes still glowed with rage, but he made no move to attack.
“Give it back,” he demanded. His claws retracted, and his voice became sweet again. Honeyed, almost, like my mother’s. “Give it back, Maia.”
I backed up until I was against the well. Above me, the glittering bridge between the sun and the moon collapsed in one great flash of light, and a white veil swept over the night, smearing light across the sky. It didn’t last long. Darkness returned, and the blood of stars began to fall, a firework of silver dust that trickled down like raindrops. The stones in the well hummed and trembled, the dim light shining from its depths growing brighter and brighter.
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