“What? You don’t like me this way?” Bandur spoke through Ammi’s lips.
“Get out of her,” I said, grabbing my friend by the neck. I didn’t realize the power of my strength until I was holding her up high, her boots kicking above the ground.
Bandur laughed, a giggly sound that sliced through me like a knife.
I set Ammi down, and she slumped into the chair.
“Enough, Bandur,” I said icily. “Let her go.”
Ammi looked up, the whites of her eyes bleeding a red so bright I flinched. The color washed out of her face, her skin becoming so pale it matched the alabaster walls behind her.
“Youare the danger to her, not I,” said Bandur. He tilted Ammi’s head so I could see the bruises my fingers had made on her neck. “Look—see what you’ve done.”
Shame rippled inside me. “No,” I whispered. “That was you….”
“The longer you stay among these mortals, the greater the harm you will bring to them. You would do well to tell your enchanter that.” The demon forced Ammi’s mouth into a coy smile. “He searches for you day after day.”
My breath caught in my throat. Edan was looking for me?
“But even he knows he cannot save you,Sentur’na,” Bandur continued. “You will kill him before he can even try.” The demon paused, reveling in my pained expression. “Return now to Lapzur.”
“Iwillreturn.” My hands flew up to the walnut pendant hidden beneath my tunic. “But when I do, I will fight you.”
Bandur snorted. “You will lose. Your pledge is unbreakable, and not even your precious dresses can save you. Accept your fate, Maia Tamarin. There is nothing you can do to change it.”
A red string appeared, connecting me to Bandur. Seeing it, I gasped.
“Nothing,” he whispered. Then a haze of smoke lifted from Ammi’s limp form, and he was gone.
Ammi didn’t wake when I shook her, but she was still breathing. Thank the gods for that.
I slammed my fists on the table so hard that the walls shook. Anger swelled in my chest, fury choking me. “I never,nevershould have brought her with me.”
I tore off my pendant, ignoring the wash of dizziness that came over me, and placed it on the table beside the mirror of truth.
I thought hard of Edan, searching for him to tell him I was going to Lapzur and that he must not come for me. I was going to Lapzur alone.
My blood still pulsating with rage, I picked up the mirror. Then the walls of my room in the inn disappeared, and the glass misted.
Edan.
He sat in meditation, but his eyes flew open before I called his name. At the sight of me, his lips formed a faint smile.
“Maia,” he said softly, slowly lingering on the music of my name.
“I’m not coming to you,” I said abruptly. “I have to go to Lapzur before…” My voice trailed. I didn’t need to finish what I was going to say.
The softness of Edan’s tone vanished. “Let go!”
The edge in his voice startled me. “Don’t use the amulet. The more you rely on its magic, the harder it will become for you to resist turning into a demon.”
“It’s not a demon’s amulet,” I argued. “It’s a pendant, full of Amana’s power. The dresses will help me defeat Bandur.”
“The power of Amana sings through the dresses you have made. But now that power has been exposed to your pledge to Bandur. You must not use it, you must not corrupt its magic. Be strong,xitara.You’re stronger than this.”
My eyes were starting to burn, and I turned away.
It was the truth I’d been afraid to confront—to even think about. Sometimes, when a shadow fell over me, I looked down to see my pendant bathed in darkness, the way it had become when I’d made Emperor Khanujin’s cloak. One day, I feared, it would blacken forever, like the amulets belonging to Bandur and Gyiu’rak.
