“You should,” he said darkly. “I’ll be a demon.”
“Then I’ll become one too. A ghost, demon—whatever the isles want of me. You don’t have to be alone.”
“That is the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” said Edan sharply. “And I beg you never to repeat it.”
My shoulders started to slump, but I straightened. “My scissors are from Amana,” I said fiercely. “They’re from the legend of the god of thieves. Did you know that?”
“I suspected—”
“That means I’m part legend myself,” I said over him. “Maybe even part enchanter. There is magic in me, so let me help you.”
Edan pressed his lips tightly together. “There’s no arguing with you, is there?”
“I’m the brightest one, remember? You said so yourself.”
He laughed and kissed me again, ever so tenderly. Then he held me—as he had when we lived under the invisible morning stars—until the day washed into night.
I knew then that we were like two pieces of cloth, sewn together for life. Our stitches couldn’t be undone.
I wouldn’t let them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We arrived within sight of the Autumn Palace five days before the red sun. I didn’t want to count the days until Edan surrendered himself to Bandur, but I couldn’t help it. Too frequently I glanced up at the sky, watching the red slowly bleeding into the sun’s crown. Only at night, when darkness swallowed the sun, could I put it out of my mind.
I could feel the magic rippling in the fibers of my dresses—more and more now, as they approached completion. Maybe I imagined it, but sometimes when the walnuts carrying the light of the moon and sun were nearby, the dresses sang to me. It was a soft, quiet song—like the hum of a peaceful brook. Edan couldn’t hear it, but the song beckoned to me, as if imploring me to finish my task.
I craned my neck to study the Autumn Palace. It sat atop a hill, surrounded by trees that were sleeved with red, gold, and orange leaves. From where I stood, it looked alight with fire.
“You don’t seem eager to go back,” Edan half teased. “I’m sure Ammi will have plenty of cookies and cakes waiting for you in the kitchen. That’s something to look forward to.”
I said nothing, only sighed and began twisting my hair onto the crown of my head.
Edan drew closer. “Don’t forget this,” he said, passing me a pebble to put in my shoe. I’d left Keton’s cane in the Summer Palace.
It had been so long since I had to pretend to be a boy, I wasn’t sure I could do it again.
I nodded silently, but my face must have shown my anxiety, for Edan held my cheek in his hand. “Everything will be fine.”
“Will it?” A hard lump rose in my throat, making it painful to speak.
Edan kissed me, so long and deep that even after he let go, my lips burned.
“It will,” he whispered. “I’ll make it so.”
I knew he was trying to make me feel better. But nothing could erase the pain of his departure.
Numbly, I said, “When will you leave for Lapzur?”
“The morning of the red sun. I won’t go until you finish the dresses. Not until I see that you are safe.”
His words did nothing to comfort me. I wiped the corner of my eye with my knuckle. “I told you I’m coming with you…I won’t have you go alone.” I swallowed the lump in my throat.
He held me and thumbed off the tears falling down my cheeks. “Do you recall when I healed your hand?” he said quietly. “You said you wanted to repay me.”
It felt so long ago. I lifted myself from his arms. “Yes.”
“I want you to do something for me.”
