My heart shot up to my throat, and I choked back a cry, lunging for Gyiu’rak before she could get to Baba and Keton. She blocked me easily with her arm and threw me aside.
I’d never been hit by such strength before, not even from Bandur. All of me folded, nerves wincing from the blow. My knees wouldn’t unbuckle, and she laughed as I struggled to pick myself up.
“Pitiful,” she rasped. “Worry not. I’ll make their deaths quick.”
I closed my eyes, conjuring the image of Emperor Khanujin’s death—the gash Gyiu’rak had drawn across his throat, so swiftly he had not realized what had happened until the broken seam on his neck began to spill blood, draining the color from his face and the life from his body.
I wouldn’t let that happen to Baba and Keton.
Pushing up, I threw myself on the demon, grappling her from behind and wrapping my arms around her neck.
She swerved and twisted, springing into the air to fling me off. I held on tight, digging my nails into her neck and chest. Her flesh was cold, her bones hard as iron. I couldn’t tell if my attacks were having any effect.
When we landed, she rushed into the fire that still blazed in the center of the square, with me hanging on tightly. Over and over, she charged into the flames, trying to drown me in their heat, but I felt nothing. The fire tickled my skin and singed the tunic on my back, but it did little else to me.
I couldn’t say the same for Gyiu’rak. The flames scorched her human skin. I could see the pain register on her face, the way she clamped her mouth tight, her lips pressing against her fangs. Were other demons vulnerable to fire? The realization stunned me; Bandur had often traveled to me through flames, but never in his human form.
Once she realized that her effort had been in vain, she bared her teeth. “Maybe you are more advanced than I thought, changeling.”
She slammed onto her back, forcing me to leap off before she crushed me. I fell hard on my side, my ribs giving under my weight. Gyiu’rak pounced for me, and I rolled away toward the fire, grabbed one of the logs crackling within, and swung it at her face.
Sparks from the sizzling wood spat into her eyes, and she let out a tiger’s roar, her arms shooting out in another attack. I ducked, then pushed her into the fire.
An arc of silvery blue swept past me. Edan, wielding the meteorite dagger. He barreled toward the fire and plunged the blade into the demon’s chest.
Gyiu’rak screamed, her body spasming with pain. In a storm of smoke, she vanished, swirling back inside the shansen’s amulet.
The fight wasn’t over. Hundreds of soldiers surrounded us. Grimly, I turned to face them. Edan and I had no chance of defeating them all, but I would do what I had to—to free Baba and Keton.
“Kill the prisoners!” the shansen shouted at his sons.
Bows lifted, arrows pointed at my father and brother. Terror seized me, and I leapt to shield them.
Then a familiar scarlet arrow struck one of the shansen’s sons neatly in the heel of his hand. Another arrow, then another, until all three sons collapsed, gravely injured.
Could it be?I craned my neck, searching for Sarnai.
Horses pounded through the gates, bursting past the flames, their hooves kicking up embers and ashes. More scarlet arrows flew, and I heard shrieks and cries, the last sounds of soldiers before they fell.
With the shansen’s men distracted, I hurried Baba and Keton to a corner away from the fray.
I tugged at the rice sacks covering my father’s and brother’s faces, but at the last moment, I decided not to lift them. I didn’t want them to see me like this, more demon than girl.
“Stay here,” I said, touching Keton’s shoulder, then Baba’s. “You’ll be safe here.”
“Maia?” Baba said. “Is that you?”
I bit my lip so I wouldn’t reply. Hearing him call my name brought the ghost of a pang to my heart. Just enough to make it ache for an instant, then the feeling was gone.
I returned to the battle to find Lady Sarnai and Lord Xina flanked by a small battalion of warriors.
I’d never seen Lady Sarnai in combat. She was faster than any man and just as strong. None of the shansen’s soldiers could match her skill with a bow; she shot a dozen men, clearing a path for Lord Xina to attack her father.
But the shansen, imbued with a demon’s strength, easily overpowered the man who’d once been his favored warrior. He snapped Xina’s spear in half, flung him at one of the fortress walls, and let out a triumphant roar, more tiger than man.
My eyes tracked the amulet swinging over his armored torso. The obsidian gleamed with Gyiu’rak’s magic, and I feared I knew what was coming next.
The shansen spun to face his daughter, who was advancing on him with her bow raised.
