Hiding my troubled thoughts, I sat quietly at the emperor’s side.
“Very impressive,” allowed the shansen. “But unlike you Southerners, I know my lore: the power of Amana’s dresses can only be wielded by the tailor who creates them.” His eyes, glittering like two polished stones, darkened at me. “So either you are not my daughter, or this is not Amana’s dress.”
My throat tightened. “I am your daughter. And this is Amana’s dress.”
“It is not the latter that I doubt,” the shansen replied with a grunt. He pointed at the ash bow he had given me. It hung in the middle of the banquet hall, displayed prominently among the other wedding gifts.
One of his attendants brought the weapon, and the shansen thrust it into my hands. “Only the Jewel of the North has the strength to wield this weapon.”
The attendant presented me with a box of scarlet-painted arrows, and as I picked one up and nocked it, he guided me away from the banquet table toward a clear place to demonstrate my ability with the bow.
It was a miracle my hands did not tremble. I’d never drawn a bow or fired an arrow before. There was no way I could pass the shansen’s test.
“Where shall I aim?” I asked evenly.
The shansen stroked his beard. “The tiger on my banner across the hall. That should be easy enough for you, Sarnai.”
I squinted at the emerald banner, embroidered with a regal white tiger arising from a mountain bed.
“Is this necessary?” Khanujin interrupted. “This is a banquet, Lord Makangis, not a test.”
“If Sarnai is who she says she is, this would not be a test, but child’s play. Her favorite sport.”
I swallowed and lifted the bow. Within a panicked second of pulling, I knew that I could not draw its taut bowstring.
Help me,I implored, appealing to the magic shimmering in my dress.If I cannot do this, A’landi will be lost.
Something held back the power of my dress. Something was choking its magic. Choking me.
A wicked frost bubbled up my throat. It tasted metallic and bitter, like iron left in the snow. Like moonlight that had gone stale.
Amana cannot help you,the cold whispered, sounding distressingly like my own voice.But I can.
Shadows folded into my thoughts, weaving darkness into my mind.No!
Before I could turn it away, supernatural strength filled me, and I snapped the bowstring back against my cheek. My hands moved without my control, directing the bow. I tried to resist, but I was torn. If I failed this test, the shansen would know I wasn’t his daughter.
This is your chance,my voice enticed.Kill the shansen. Save A’landi.
If he dies, there will be no war.
Sweat beaded my temples, my focus blurring as I fought to ignore the voice blaring inside me. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even hear my heart. The green banner ahead seemed to sway. No, the entire world was swaying, the walls boiling in shadows only I could see.
Do it, Maia. Kill him. KILL HIM.
The darkness swallowed me whole—just for an instant. But an instant was just long enough to change everything. I swerved the bow to the left and pointed my arrow at the shansen’s chest. And released.
The scarlet arrow shrieked across the hall, my shot straight and true. I froze in terror. There was no chance I’d missed. No man could move fast enough to escape the death I had just delivered.
And yet, the arrow diverged from its path ever so slightly, so at the last moment it pierced the white tiger embroidered on his cloak—instead of the shansen’s heart.
Once again, the court burst into applause. Beside me, Emperor Khanujin wore a thinly veiled smirk, and the shansen crossed his arms.
“Only the Jewel of the North has the strength to wield the bow,” the emperor repeated. “She is your daughter.”
The shansen merely grunted, snapping the arrow out of his cloak—but I caught the dark look he passed me. It vanished before I could read it, and he flung the broken arrow onto the ground.
“Let the festivities continue!” declared Emperor Khanujin.
