So Edan wasn’t in Agoria at all—but still in A’landi, high in the mountains somewhere, tucked away in a shrine to the beggar god.
I let out a sigh of relief and leaned toward the mirror. “Has he been able to help you?”
Edan’s dark brows knotted, and the color drained from his face.
“Maia,” he whispered hoarsely. “Maia, you said you were free of Bandur.”
“What?” I drew back. How did he know I wasn’t? My eyes weren’t burning, and he couldn’t have heard about what had happened to Lady Sarnai.
“You are wearing a demon’s amulet.”
I looked down and saw my pendant had slid out of its place inside my tunic.
“No, it’s just the walnuts you gave me.” I held it out, showing him. “This isn’t—”
His jaw tensed, his voice thick with dread, with fear. “Don’t go to Lapzur.”
“I have to,” I said. “I have to fight him before…”Before I lose too much of myself.
“You can’t win if you go alone,” said Edan. “Wait for me. I’ll go with you.”
The strain in his voice touched me, but I wasn’t going to change my mind. “I’m getting worse every day, Edan. Soon I won’t be able to resist.”
A grimace tore apart Edan’s careful composure. “Come here, then,” he urged. “My teacher, Master Tsring, can help you. He’s mortal now, but he knows more about magic than anyone, save the gods themselves. He’s dealt with Bandur before.”
“I don’t have much time,” I said in a small voice. “I don’t even know where you—”
“The Tura Mountains. They’re not far from Lapzur. Call for me when you see them, and I will find you.”
“With the mirror?”
“Yes,” replied Edan, “but be careful. The demon inside you will grow stronger every day, and whenever you use magic, you open yourself to its influence. Do not use its power. It will corrupt you, and you will turn faster.”
To that, I said nothing.
“Maia!” Edan had raised his voice, and I flinched. His eyes were so blue, not the blazing yellow they’d once turned when he was angry. “Swear it on my life, Maia, that you will not use the demon’s power. Swear you will not go to Lapzur without me.”
Sudden rage rose in me. It flared white and hot and so dazzlingly intense I could not control it.
How dare he! He does not control you, Sentur’na.
The whispers grew louder, deafening. Edan’s furniture vanished. Trees sprang from the carpets, their branches withered and gnarled. The Forgotten Isles of Lapzur. I shut my eyes, pushing out the hallucination. “No!”
The mirror slipped from my grasp, and I lunged for it, but whatever connection Edan and I had had was broken.
“Edan?” I whispered, clutching the mirror. Only my reflection stared back at me. “Edan, I’m sorry.”
But Edan was gone.
I crumpled onto the ground in despair. My pendant whirled around my neck. I grasped it and forced it to still.
Edan was wrong. Itwasn’ta demon’s amulet. The dresses inside belonged to the mother goddess, Amana. There was nothing sinister about them.
Still, a pinprick of doubt stabbed me.Then why is there a crack in the center, like in Bandur’s amulet?
That, I couldn’t answer.
I tucked the pendant back inside my tunic. The dresses inside thrummed softly, a steady pulse against my heart’s. Unlike my scissors’ song, it did not stop when I let go.
