Return with the Prince to Bara. Do not delay.
I read it three times, letting its meaning sink in.
Return with the Prince?
But Prince Haru had only been here a month. Why would he leave? And why was I being ordered to accompany him?
My mind raced through possibilities, each worse than the last.
Had the shadows orchestrated something? Was Haru in danger? Was I meant to be his protector or . . . ?
And Yoshi—
My heart seized.
How could I leave Yoshi now, when his power grew stronger and wilder each day, when he needed me most? When we’d just found each other again? When our love shone so brightly it hurt my eyes?
I crushed the paper in my fist, then thought better of it and smoothed it out again.
Evidence.
Always destroy the evidence, Sakurai had taught.
I held the corner to the lamp’s flame, watching the black paper burn with an unnatural green edge, leaving no ash, no trace, as if it had never existed.
Mybokkenforgotten, I raced back through the corridors toward Yoshi’s chamber. I had to know what was happening, had to understand why everything was changing so suddenly.
I found him sitting on his bed, still in his sleeping clothes, his face pale. He looked up when I entered, and I saw shock in his eyes—mingled with grief and confusion.
“Yoshi? What is it?”
“The Emperor,” he whispered. “Master Chen just . . . The Emperor is dead.”
The pieces clicked together like a lock opening.
The Emperor was dead. Prince Haru would need to return for the funeral, for his brother’s coronation. The shadows wanted me in the capital during that chaos.
But why? What role could I possibly play in the Empire’s moment of transition?
“Dead? How?” I managed to ask, though my throat felt full of sand.
“Master Chen didn’t say, only that the dragon’s breath has stilled and Prince Haru must return immediately.” Yoshi’s eyes searched mine. “Everything’s going to change, isn’t it?”
I dropped beside him and pulled him into my arms, desperate to never let him go, though knowing that was exactly what I was about to do.
“Yes,” I said, because lying about that would be pointless.
Everything was already changing. I could feel it in my bones—the Empire needed something from me, something beyond my understanding. The shadows hadn’t trained me, marked me, claimed me just to watch from the sidelines. Whatever came next, I was already trapped in its web.
“I have to go with him,” I heard myself blurt out.
Yoshi’s head snapped up. “What? Why?”
My mind scrambled for an excuse that would make sense, that wouldn’t reveal the black crane’s command. “Prince Haru has been helping us—helping you. We owe him protection on the road. These are dangerous times, and he’ll have few guards. I . . . I trained in the capital. I know the roads, the dangers.”
“He has guards, Kaneko. The temple will send their own Samurai, too.” Yoshi stood, reaching for me. “You can’t just leave. I need you here. What about my training? What about . . . us?”
I gulped back the rancid taste of betrayal, the bitterness of the lies I had told—was about to tell—and lifted Yoshi’s chin until our eyes met.
