“ ‘I was meant for magic, once, but because of Maia, I am no longer the enchanter I was before. I am meant for her now. Her above all else.’ ”
A small smile tugged at the old man’s lips. “There, that is what I wished to tell you. Go now. Choose well.”
I started to turn away from Master Tsring, then paused. “Thank you,” I said softly, before hurrying back to the temple.
I raced down the corridor, ignoring the looks from his disciples when I burst into the eating hall, eyes blazing red. I didn’t care about their stares, or about the propriety of the temple. I ran into Edan’s arms, nearly toppling him over as I hugged him close and buried my face into his robes.
“Maia,” he breathed.
I looked up at him, taking in the earnest lines that furrowed his brow, the concern shining in his eyes. I knew there was no need to ask the question lingering on my tongue. “Are there any more peanut cakes left?” I asked instead.
The lines on his brow eased, and he chuckled. “I stashed a few for you.” A pause—he knew me too well. “What happened?”
“I ran into Master Tsring,” I confessed, the words rushing out of my mouth. “He thinks it’d be dangerous for you to go with me. He’s seen—”
“That I might die?” Edan finished for me.
I bit my lip and stared at the floor. For a moment, I was my old self again.
He tilted my chin up, a spark of mischief in his eyes. “I won’t let you have your carpet back if you leave me behind.”
“It doesn’t fly any—”
“It does now. I got a few of the disciples to fix it this morning.” He twined his fingers through mine. “I’m coming with you, Maia. You’ll not be rid of me so easily.”
It was difficult not to melt, even for an almost-demon like me. “Everyone’s watching.”
“I don’t care.” He grinned, and kissed my cheek. “Come, eat before breakfast is over.”
I barely glanced at the generous spread of food. My encounter with Master Tsring had erased any appetite I might have had. “Let’s go now. I don’t want to stay here any longer.”
• • •
It should have taken us a week to reach Lake Paduan, but we arrived before nightfall on the third day. It was as if Bandur—theislesthemselves—knew I was coming, and sent winds to bring me back.
The lake’s icy fingers clutched my legs as I slid off the carpet and stepped ashore. Each breath tasted bitter, stinging my throat. With each step, I sank deeper, heavier, into the sand, knowing Lapzur had been waiting for me to return. Now that I was back, it would never let me leave.
I traced the crack in my amulet, summoning the dress of the blood of stars under my breath.
Inky, dark liquid bubbled out of the jet-black shell. Silk danced in ribbons of smoke and mist, flowing between my fingers and winding over my shoulders. Sleeves threaded over myarms, light as the kiss of the wind, and a skirt cinched itself around my waist before draping me, full as a bell, with a hem that flickered like candlelight.
Here, where the blood of stars fell once a year, my dress wasat home.
“You should take this back,” I said, passing Edan his dagger.
I’d wrapped a scarf around the weapon. Even though I hadn’t uttered “Jinn” to trigger its magic, I could feel an uncomfortable heat emanating through the fibers of the cloth.
Wordlessly, Edan took it from me. We’d gone over our plan one last time before arriving at the isles, but I hadn’t fully anticipated the tremendous power of this place. Already, it threatened to overwhelm me.
“Should the worst befall me,” I said, “please take care of my father and my brother.”
Edan stiffened. He strained to keep his tone even. “You won’t—”
“And take care of yourself,” I spoke over him. I grasped the folds of my dress, the dark fabric shimmering at my touch. “I’m ready.”
Unlike the last time, the ghosts did not tempt me. They did not hide in the shadows, did not bother to mimic my mother or brothers. I did not hear Mama’s voice, or Finlei’s, or Sendo’s.
Instead, they welcomed me as one of their own. Which was far worse.
