I took the ladle, more to give myself something to do than because I was thirsty. The water was chilly, shockingly so, and helped ground me back into my body after the euphoria ofmahou-enhanced training.
Then a question slammed into me, one that threatened to shatter what little knowledge I’d gained of this new power Haru was teaching me to harness.
“Ifmahouvanished when the Emperor died as abbot claimed back in Suwa,” I heard myself say, the words falling out before I’d fully formed the thought, “why does it still flow through Haru’s veins?”
Both of them turned to stare at me.
“What?” Kaneko’s expression was unreadable.
“The magic. The Emperor’s death was supposed to sever it or pause it or whatever . . . until there’s a new emperor, right? That’s what Guji Giichi said. I assumed that’s why the Shinto can’t use their nature magic anymore and why the monks at Suwa lost their combat enhancements.” I gestured with the ladle, water sloshing over the rim. “But Haru still has his speed. He’s still moving like a god. And I—” I looked down at my hands, still feeling the residual tingle of power. “I still have mine, too. Why?”
The question floated in the air like smoke.
Esumi’s face had gone very still.
Kaneko set down the ladle with careful precision.
“This is not a conversation for the three of us,” Esumi said. “This is the realm of the gods.”
“I am aDaimyo’s heir. We are told things others will never know,” I said, not intending to sound so mysterious, but there was little to be done for it.
Esumi’s head lowered, and his eyes closed. “Fine.”
“Maybe . . . maybe the gifts that were already awakened don’t disappear? Maybe it only affects new manifestations?” Kaneko guessed.
“That doesn’t make sense,” I pressed. “If the source of all magic is cut off or muted somehow, how can existing gifts continue to function? It’s like saying a plant can keep growing after you’ve pulled its roots.”
“Maybe the gifts aren’t plants,” Esumi said slowly. “Maybe they’re more like . . . fires. Once lit, they burn on their own fuel. The tether might have lit them, but now they sustain themselves.”
“Or maybe”—Kaneko’s voice had gone quiet, almost afraid—“the tether isn’t actually severed.”
We all looked at each other, and I saw my own dawning horror reflected in their faces.
“But the Emperor is dead,” I said. “We know he’s dead. Everyone knows he’s dead. The monks and priests can’t usemahouat all.”
“Yes.” Esumi was frowning now, his mind clearly racing through implications. “But what if death isn’t enough? What if the tether doesn’t break just because the Emperor dies, but only when—”
“When there’s no heir to take the throne,” Kaneko finished. “When the bloodline ends completely.”
The training ground suddenly felt very cold despite the risen sun. Haru might never produce an heir. Would that end magic forever? Would Amaterasu reclaim her gift?
“That still wouldn’t account for me,” I said, looking up at Esumi. “I don’t have a drop of royal blood. I’m not even fromthe mainland. Why would I still have power when everyone else, except Haru, lost theirs?”
Neither Esumi nor Kaneko had an answer for that. We stood there, three young men at a training ground, staring at each other as the implications washed over us.
“We need to tell someone,” I said. “Haru, or the generals, or—”
“Tell them what?” Esumi cut me off. “That we have a theory based on the fact that some gifts work while others don’t? That’s not evidence. That’s speculation.”
“But it makes sense.”
“Making sense doesn’t make it true.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident. “Gods, I hate politics . . . and magic. There are too many moving pieces, too many unknowns.”
“So what do we do?” Kaneko asked.
“We wait, and we pay attention.” Esumi looked at both of us. “We watch, we listen, and if we learn anything concrete, we take it to Haru. But until then . . .” He glanced toward the palace, where the war council was presumably grilling Haru about matters we couldn’t begin to understand. “Until then, we trust that smarter people than us are figuring this out.”
“That isn’t very comforting,” I said. “Have you met Haru’s uncles?”
