I felt my blood begin to chill. Groping for control, I clenched the edge of my stool, digging my nails into its stiff wood. “Go away.”
But how can I do that, Sentur’na? I am you. IAMYOU.
I shot to my feet, heart thumping madly as my stool toppled behind me. Silence greeted me when I burst into the hall. The demon had not followed.
Relieved, I leaned against the wall to wait for my ears to stop ringing.
“Edan?” I called out then.
The hall was empty. No sign of Edan or Master Tsring.
I started toward the courtyard, when a flicker of my reflection in the window caught my eye. Against my better judgment, I stopped to look. My face had grown gaunt, my cheeks so sunken I could see the slant of my bones curving to my chin.
That wasn’t all. My pupils flickered like two flames, and my skin was so pale that blue veins shone through.
All the air left me in a rush. My body tensed and tipped. “That isn’t me,” I insisted, rapping my knuckles against the window’s glass. “Show me who I am. The real me.”
I waited, but my reflection did not change. This was no enchanted mirror of truth, just a sheet of glass.
Even if it were an enchanted mirror, it would show you the same. Thisiswho you are now.
I glared up at the ceiling, looking for the shadow of the demon that had just spoken. But it wasmydemon, the one inside me.
And she was right.
A fit of anger came over me, my fists shaking at my sides. I couldn’t control it, the hot, boiling rage bubbling in my throat.
I punched the window. It cracked, but did not shatter. A thousand reflections of myself blinked back at me, every one with red eyes and sunken cheeks.
I gaped and turned from the cracked window, reeling down the corridor. My knuckles bled, the skin underneath pink and raw. But my knuckles didn’t hurt. Not at all.
“My name is Maia,” I said to myself, over and over. “My name is Maia Tamarin.”
I pulled on my hair, trying to grasp something,anything,to help me hold on to the girl I’d once been. My fingers found the plum blossom Edan had placed in my hair, and I held it on my palm.
I started to close my fingers over the petals, but a gust of wind swept in, carrying the flower from my hand. I lunged after it, but it was already too late. Over the mountain, it drifted off.
Lost and never to be recovered.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
That night, the ghosts of Lapzur tormented me. They perched on the crooked trees outside Edan’s window, white hair streaming from their scalps, melting into the moonlight, their voices low and harsh. It was well past twilight, the entire temple clothed in darkness. Beside me, Edan slept peacefully.
Come back,the ghosts entreated. Over and over, they made the same pleas, their hollow black eyes following my movements as I tossed and turned.
Don’t fight us, Sentur’na. You will lose. You will die.
I pinched my eyes shut, remembering Master Tsring’s warning to me. That the dresses were both my salvation and my ruin—if I destroyed them, I would be free of Bandur. But I would also die.
A gust of wind blew the window open. I sprang up to shut it, then curled back against Edan in bed.
“Can’t sleep?”
I rolled onto my side to find Edan gazing at me. The ghosts’ calls receded to the back of my mind.
He was still the same boy I’d grown to love during our travels, but he’d changed since being freed of his oath. During our few moments together, he smiled more and laughed easily. If not for the curse hanging over me, I thought, with a bitter pang to my heart, he might always be smiling.
“Nightmares?” he asked.
