“Then let your heart be at peace,” Baba said at last. “No matter what you become, you are always my Maia. Always my strong one.”
Something in me lifted, knowing my father understood. “Thank you, Baba. Thank you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The shansen’s horn blared from the other side of the Jingan River. Three calls, each deafening enough to unsettle the snow from our helmets.
An invitation to battle.
I stared fixedly ahead, ignoring my reflection in a soldier’s shield as I rode alongside Edan, behind Lady Sarnai and Lord Xina. We’d left Baba behind in the camp this morning, but I’d chosen not to say goodbye.
It was for the best. I’d woken updifferenttoday. Overnight, my black hair had deepened into the darkest shade of gold, my eyes burned red as molten fire, and my nose had sharpened to a point as fine as an arrowhead.
I hadn’t greeted Edan when he came to me. I had recognized his tall frame, the square edges of his jaw, the slant of his shoulders. But I didn’t know why I recognized him. Why I loved him.
A bridge divided our army from the shansen’s, ten soldiers wide. Engraved on a stone pillar at its base was a greeting from A’landi’s first emperor, welcoming all to the capital, Jappor, where the Great Spice Road began and ended, where fortunes and misfortunes were made and reversed. I wondered if the first emperor had ever imagined that this bridge, the only way into Jappor, would also become the doorway to war.
Plum trees edged the capital’s walls, pale pink buds drooping from snow-covered branches. Untouched by war for centuries, Jappor was considered one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But now that the shansen had conquered it, I doubted it was so beautiful anymore.
Beyond Jappor loomed the Spring Palace, its sea-green roofs so tall they pierced the clouds. There was no sign of mourning for Emperor Khanujin—only the shansen’s banners draped from every roof, bursts of violent green that slithered down the walls.
His army awaited us across the river.
“This is what we are fighting for,” Lady Sarnai was saying. I’d missed most of her speech to rouse the soldiers, but when she spoke my name, I snapped to attention.
“—Tamarin will wear a legend we all know, the gown painted with the blood of stars.”
I touched my amulet, summoning the last dress of Amana. It spun over my shoulders to my ankles with the splendor of a midnight tempest. The brilliance of the stars weighed little, the never-ending folds of night swirling like clouds around me.
Gasps of wonder echoed behind me, but I kept my eyes on Edan. Out of all the crowd, he was the only one looking at me, not my dress.
At Lady Sarnai’s signal, we galloped onto the bridge. A storm of footsteps thundered past me, swordsmen rushing for the shansen’s men, and I glanced back, just once, to see Keton among the archers. His bow slung over his shoulder, he was helping a fellow soldier lift a hand cannon, trying to find an ideal place to fire it at the shansen’s army.
They didn’t get the chance.
Twenty paces on, a cold mist shivered up from the raging river below, suddenly thickening into an impenetrable fog.
Through the haze, I saw him.
The shansen stood alone, no army behind him. He carried only a broad sword, sheathed at his side. He bowed slowly, his fur-lined cloak billowing behind him. Over his uniform, he wore golden armor, the head of a tiger blazing in the center of his torso.
Something wasn’t right. Why weren’t the shansen’s soldiers on the bridge with him?
“Edan,” I murmured, pointing at the warlord.
“Draw back!” he shouted to Lady Sarnai. “It’s—”
Too late.
The shansen hadn’t come alone. Hundreds of ghosts accompanied him. They emerged out of the mist, dead flesh hanging off their exposed bones, and what little skin they had was milk-white like the snow, their eyes black as onyx.
“We push forward!” Lady Sarnai shouted, charging toward her father.
Ghosts surrounded her and Lord Xina, closing her off from the shansen. Our soldiers panicked, forgetting Edan’s training as the ghosts blocked escape in every direction.
Sentur’na. You know you cannot win. Join us.
I ignored the ghosts and turned back to our soldiers. “Remember what Edan told you!” I shouted. “Don’t listen to them! Brace your minds against whatever they say—it isn’t real!”
