My time as Maia had ended.
This was the moment I’d dreaded, the moment I became a demon. But now that it was here, I wasn’t afraid. I could hear my demon voice trying to calm me.
It won’t hurt,she soothed.See how powerful you will be? Even more powerful than Gyiu’rak.
But her words had nothing to do with my state of calm. She had no idea what was coming.
My chest heaved. I felt no pain, only a rush of heat melting away the cold I’d endured these last few months.
I surrendered to the fire. Gyiu’rak’s amulet still burned in my grasp, the tiger head on its obsidian face melting until it was no more than a pile of sand, sifting through my fingers.
Two screams pierced the air. First Gyiu’rak’s, then the shansen’s, as his sword slipped from his grasp and fell to the ground.
Caught in mid-leap, Gyiu’rak began to smolder, ribbons of smoke bleeding from her flesh until only her ruby eyes were left. Then they too dulled, until finally the wind swept them away in ashes.
The shansen’s mighty strength was gone in an instant, leaving him a shriveled old man far more aged than his years. He fell into a position of defeat: his knees sank to the ground, his back folded forward in a crouch, his fists curled at his sides. For what seemed an age, he did not move. Then the shansen lifted his helmet. His hair had gone white.
“Daughter,” he rasped.
A storm raged in Lady Sarnai’s dark eyes as she held her father’s gaze. I could tell she was trying to decide whether to finish him or show mercy. She lifted her sword so it kissed the side of his neck, the weight of her blade too heavy for his frail shoulders to bear. “Yield.”
The shansen lifted his chin and dragged one foot forward so he knelt on only one knee. I took it as a sign of acquiescence—until a dagger flashed from his calf.
He knifed at his daughter’s ribs.
Lady Sarnai’s blade fell from her hand as she danced back, rolling to the side. The shansen lunged again, but Sarnai was ready this time. She reached into the quiver on her back and jabbed a scarlet arrow into his chest. Fulfilling the promise she’d made last night.
I did not see the shansen fall. My body would wait no longer.
The change began. Fiery wings burst out of my spine. My skin was no longer skin, but feathers of the palest blue-gold fire. My eyes rounded and sharpened into a bird’s. I folded my arms over my chest. Not even the finest weavers could have imagined the brilliance of my wings, layers upon layers of individual flames interlaced with threads of rippling sapphire and violet.
Air rushed out of my lungs. My heart slowed nearly to a stop.
I had to act now, before the demon inside me won, beforeshebecame the legend Baba would hear one day. That couldn’t happen, not when I’d given so much to spin a new dawn, to bring the sun and the moon and the stars to A’landi. Not while my heart still beat, not while I still breathed.
I turned to Edan. He was shouting my name, but I couldn’t hear him any longer. I held up my wrist, touching the red thread.
The end of the thread is you, Edan,I wanted to tell him.It’s always been you.
His eyes, blue and beseeching, were the last thing I saw before I released the blood of stars. The dress wrapped around me, scintillating waves of starlight smothering the demon inside. Soon we would all be gone.
Up I shot into the sky, high into the stars. Until A’landi was covered in clouds, and Edan and I were separated by the firmament of the heavens.
And there at last, with the blood of stars seeping from my wings, I erupted into flames.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
My dress unfurled into the night, a blanket of stars unfolding across the sky as far as I could see. The clouds grazed my ankles, soft as blossoms of snow.
When I looked down, I could not see the earth. Could not see Edan or Lady Sarnai or Keton, or the aftermath of the battle, or whether A’landi was saved.
But somehow, I knew we had won. Somehow, through a tickle in my heart that was little more than a flutter of joy—Iknew that the demon inside me and the shadows that had darkened my soul hadn’t followed me here. I was finally free.
All was still. Quiet but for the unsteady beating of my heart, the warmth of my blood rushing to my head as I flew on, losing myself in this endless fabric of starlight.
Then, I heard a gentle laugh. It tinkled like the soft strokes of a dulcimer. A sound I never thought I would hear again.
I strained to see the familiar silhouette against the glowing full moon. “Mama,” I breathed.
