Master Tsring did not speak during lunch, nor did Edan. Their silence made me anxious, and I found my attention wandering to the table next to us, at which the master’s students clustered together on two long benches.
Only a handful were A’landan. They wore faded blue robes, and each was accompanied by a creature: a turtle, a cat, even a young bear. Their stares weighed on me, though they quickly looked away.
It was my red eyes they were staring at, I knew. My eyes unnerved even Edan.
I saw a student enchant her soup into black sesame paste, a dessert Finlei used to love. She drank it quickly, before anyone saw. But Master Tsring cleared his throat and pounded his fist on the table once. “Enchantment is to be used during your studies, not at meals.”
The girl’s face flushed with embarrassment. “Yes, sir.”
That was all Master Tsring said during the meal. He was lost in thought otherwise, chewing on a steamed bun, flavored lightly with spring onions. I’d left mine untouched.
When the disciples cleared their table and left, he scraped his spoon against his empty walnut bowl. “I have come to a decision about your companion, Gen.”
My shoulders hiked with tension.
“There is no hope left for this one,” Master Tsring said gravely. “Take her to Bandur immediately, before she brings ruin upon us.”
“But you agreed she has not yet succumbed.”
“That matters not.” Tsring’s wizened fingers gestured at my amulet. “She has already been named.”
“Named?” I echoed.
His voice was low. “Sentur’na.”
Hearing it spoken aloud, I felt my blood turn cold. That word had haunted me for weeks.Sentur’na.
“Breaker,”translated Edan slowly.
Master Tsring grunted. “Or, more literally,cutter of fate.”
A shiver ran down my spine. “No. That isn’t my name.”
“Soon it will be. It is the name that the ghosts will obey. You yourself will know no other. An enchanter may have a thousand names, but a demon has only one.”
“It will be different for her,” Edan insisted, coming to my defense. “Bandur killed his master, and because of his heinous act he was cursed to become the guardian of Lapzur. Maia chose this path…out of love.”
Master Tsring considered this. “It is rare indeed that one chooses to become a demon. Perhaps that is why her transformation is slow. But the outcome will be the same, no matter the delay.”
“If I return to Lapzur, Bandur will be free,” I said slowly. “What will happen to him then?”
“Only in Lapzur is his power great,” Tsring replied, “but he will seek to make bargains with the foolish, spreading sorrow and ruin. My disciples and I are prepared to confront him.”
“And what will becoming a demon be like for me?” I asked in a small voice.
“You will continue to change,” he replied. “Your eyes are just the beginning. The rest will come, but it is hard to say what shape you will take.”
“What shape?” I echoed, before I realized what he meant. An ache rose in my throat. Bandur took on the form of a wolf; Gyiu’rak, a tiger. Soon I would have my turn. What would I become?
“Demons who began as enchanters are especially powerful,” went on Master Tsring, “but you have no oath, and you have no schooling in magic.”
Tsring folded his arms on the table. The edges of his sleeves were stained with carrot soup. “The magic in you is wild. I can smell it. It is like wood smoldering, the smoke so thick it makes the air difficult to breathe.”
He eyed me sternly. “Demon magic feeds off destruction. An unquenchable rage. The desire for vengeance. These are signs of changing.”
With a shudder, I remembered my anger at the shansen’s soldiers, Emperor Khanujin, even Ammi…how much I’d wanted to hurt them. How easy it had been to give in.
When I said nothing, Master Tsring continued. “A demon’s power resides in his amulet, which can be destroyed only by the demon himself, or by a source of powerful magic such as the blood of stars. As sentinel of the Forgotten Isles, Bandur guards it zealously, for it can bring his demise.”
