I touched my pendant. The walnut half that had once carried the laughter of the sun no longer sparked gold when I touched it, yet the pendant weighed more heavily on my chest than before—despite the fact that there were only two dresses left inside now.
The tears of the moon. And the blood of stars.
I planted my feet on the ground, surprised when they met rough stone instead of wood. Birds I had never heard before chirped outside my walls. Where was I?
My breath turned to steam in the chilly air, and I inhaled. It smelled different here. A wave of homesickness rushed over me when I heard the unmistakable rhythm of tides washing onto the shore. I was near the sea.
I peeked through the cracks of a hastily boarded window. All I could make out was the full moon hanging in the sky. She had been a slender crescent last time I’d seen her.
By that count, I’d been asleep for two weeks.Two weeks!I let out a heavy breath. Every day I remained free of Bandur’s clutches was a victory.
“Maia?”
Startled, I turned. I hadn’t even heard Ammi come in, carrying a tray of ginger water and more bandages.
“You’re awake!” she exclaimed. The water on her tray trembled.
“What’s happened?” I asked. “Where are we?”
“The Winter Palace.”
The Winter Palace. I should have guessed. Built on a cliff overlooking the Cuiyan Ocean, it was the most naturally protected of His Majesty’s palaces, more a fortress than a palace.
“Why not go to the Spring Palace? The army in the capital is far stronger.”
My friend lowered her voice, and I understood there were guards outside the door. “His Majesty is wounded. They feared he wouldn’t survive the trip to the capital.”
“Oh.” I breathed in. “How many dead?”
Ammi’s face darkened. Her full cheeks looked thinner, and new ghosts haunted her eyes. She reminded me of Keton, of what experiencing war had done to my once carefree brother.
“Over half the Autumn Palace’s army.”
“Half the army?” I repeated, dumbfounded. The number was far more than I had imagined. “And the shansen?”
“He disappeared. His army retreated.”
A victory, then. But a hollow one, given how many casualties we’d suffered.
Still reeling over the losses, I suddenly realized I was missing my scissors. “Where are my things? I was carrying a pouch—”
Ammi reached behind her skirt. “You mean this?”
She held out my pouch. Its folds sagged, the leather more ragged than it’d been before.
“Thank the Nine Heavens,” I murmured. I dug into my bag, taking inventory of what was inside. My carpet, tightly rolled, Edan’s mirror, my dagger, my scissors. All there.
“Thank you, Ammi. I hope it wasn’t too dangerous for you to keep.”
“No,” she replied. “Everything has been in disarray since the battle. Cooks are now guards, maids are now nurses.” She gestured at herself. “I traded shifts with a friend so I could see you, but I can’t stay long.” She lowered her voice. “Once the emperor learns you’re awake, he’ll double the guard. Soldiers from the capital are to arrive tomorrow to reinstate order.”
Tomorrow.
That meant I’d woken up just in time. I fished out my scissors and reached for my tunic, tucking them in their usual place on my tailor’s belt. I couldn’t stay here.But where should I go—to Lapzur or to find Edan?
Ammi was staring. “WhenIlooked in the bag, there was nothing inside. Youarean enchanter.”
“I’m not.”
