“If you think this war is won, you’re sadly mistaken,” the shansen rasped. “Half your men are dead, while I’ve not sent a single soldier into battle.”
The realization was a punch to my gut. The shansen was right; we’d only fought an army of ghosts. Thousands of his men awaited on the Jappor side of the bridge.
“It doesn’t matter,” I said through my teeth. “Without you to lead them, the battle is won.”
“Then you should have killed me.”
Before I could stop him, the warlord reached for his amulet. In a rush of pearlescent smoke, he dissipated into the mist.
“No!” I slammed my fists on the bridge’s stone railing.
The ghosts were gone. My brothers’ army of spirits was gone too. Our surviving soldiers were awakening from the enchantment the ghosts had cast over them.
Lady Sarnai had climbed back onto the bridge and was bent beside Lord Xina’s fallen form. Everyone was waiting for her to decide whether we’d retreat back to camp or push forward into Jappor.
“Maia,” a hoarse voice called to me.
“Your brothers,” Edan said, pointing at the two spirits floating above us.
Waiting for me.
I sprang into the air. “Don’t go. The fight isn’t over.”
“Ours is,” said Finlei gently. “Amana let us heed your call this once, but we cannot help you again, sister.”
“Please. Once you leave, I’ll—”
“Forget us?” Sendo shook his head. “You won’t.”
“How could you forget two brothers as memorable as we?” Finlei teased. Then his face grew somber. “Punch Keton for me—extra hard—for following us into war even though we told him not to…and tell Baba we miss him very much.”
When I heard the crack in his voice, my heart wanted to burst.Stay,I wanted to beg them once more, but I knew they couldn’t. My throat swelled. It hurt to speak. “I will.”
“Always seize the wind, sister.”
“I will,” I whispered.
Finlei turned to go, but Sendo hesitated, his forehead wrinkling with concern. He placed a hand on my arm. I couldn’t feel his touch, but the gesture warmed me, like a gentle caress of sunlight on my skin.
“I’ve missed you, Maia.” He offered me a sad smile. “You remember that last day Finlei and I were at home?”
“I was painting,” I said softly. “I spilled Baba’s most expensive indigo on my skirt. I was so foolish then…so, so foolish.”
“No, not foolish.” He touched my nose, and I blinked even though I couldn’t feel it. “How far you’ve come from that little girl with the paint on her nose and fingers. The one who’d cling to my stories when we sat on the pier—you’ve become so strong.” He swallowed. “I’m sorry we never made it home.”
I blinked back my tears. There was so much I wanted to tell him—I had five years’ worth of news and worries, of joys and realizations—and stories I’d dreamed of sharing with him, but now that he was here, no words would come.
“I have to go,” he said, pressing a phantom kiss onto my cheek.
“Wait—” I started.
“This isn’t farewell, sister. Our paths will cross again. Perhaps not in this life, but Mama, Finlei, and I will be watching you. Until then, take care.”
Sendo nodded at Edan, acknowledging him before he returned to Finlei’s side.
Then my brothers were gone.
My lips parted, and I sucked in an unsteady, ragged breath.
