“Enchanter,” the shansen continued. He affected a small bow. “I must thank you for breaking your oath. I could not have accomplished any of this if you had been by Khanujin’s side.”
Edan’s breathing stilled, but he said nothing.
“History will record that the Five Winters’ War was fought between me and Emperor Khanujin,” continued the warlord, “but this is a lie. The war was between me—and you, enchanter. A pity your magic is so weak now.”
“I want to see my father and brother,” I snapped.
“You’ll see them soon enough.” The shansen turned. “You have arrived in time for the passing of thrones.”
He signaled to his three sons, who promptly disappeared into a chamber behind the courtyard. When they returned, they dragged forth a cowering figure.
I hardly recognized the emperor. No headdress, no armor—the cloak I’d sewn for him was torn and tattered. His black hair was a tangled mass, and he looked like he hadn’t washed in days. Rope bound his wrists and ankles, and he was gagged with one of the shansen’s banners, a pop of bright green.
A chill crawled up my spine as realization dawned. The army would not have abandoned Khanujin here. Not unless—
No.I spun, taking in the palace’s ashen remains. The air was too still, too quiet.
And in that moment, I knew what had happened to Khanujin’s army: it had been destroyed—by Gyiu’rak’s ghosts.
What price must the shansen have paid for such power?
“Let him go,” said Edan, breaking from my side, his shadow tall and commanding.
“The Lord Enchanter speaks,” mocked the shansen. “Curious, Edan, that you continue to serve Khanujin even after your oath has been broken. Even more curious, that you should arrive with the imperial tailor. I never took you for an ally of demons.”
“She is not a demon.”
“Notyet,” spoke a new voice.
In a tempest of pale glittering smoke, Gyiu’rak materialized from the shansen’s amulet and took her place beside him, shifting into human form. Her white hair, striped with black, was knotted up like a court lady’s.
“Sentur’na,” she greeted, baring her teeth as she spoke my demon name. A wicked smile curved her mouth as she regarded Edan. “Jinn.”
At the title, Edan stiffened.
“You have arrived in time for the end of the Ujin dynasty.”
Khanujin’s eyes bulged at the sight of the shansen’s demon. He twisted his hands, trying to free them from the ropes.
“Enough,” said Edan. “You’ve captured the emperor and claimed your victory. Let him go. You dishonor your legacy by killing him.”
“Dishonor?” the warlord snarled. “You think Khanujin would spare me if our roles were reversed? No. He will be sacrificed to my demon. His blood is the price I pay for a new A’landi.”
“I will pay it,” I spoke up impulsively. “Let the emperor go.”
“You?” Gyiu’rak rasped. “A demon cannot pay my blood price. But your father and your brother…”
With a hiss I’d never heard myself make, I lunged to attack her, but Edan held me back. His eyes beseeched me not to do anything rash.
Gyiu’rak laughed. “Very well, then,” she said. And in a movement so quick it was but a whirl of color, she sliced her nails across the emperor’s pale throat.
Blood welled out, as bright as the rubies dangling from his wrists.
The violence of it—the suddenness—shocked me. The air froze in my lungs, my body growing taut as a string.
Then,snap.
Khanujin crumpled. Edan caught him, laying him gently on the ground.
