As the sentinels obeyed, I started to protest. Hasege shoved me against the wall. “Stay out of the way, demon,” he warned. “Unless you want to be next.”
I reined in my spinning thoughts, certain that Chiruan had been framed. After a long, brittle silence, Hasege finally left, and I threw off my apron and dashed back to the castle.
Pao blocked me from entering Takkan’s rooms. “His Lordship is busy. He’s just returned from Iro Village, and he isn’t to be distur—”
I reached over him and rapped my knuckles on the door. It was the height of impudence, but I didn’t care.
As Pao started to yank me away, Takkan appeared at the door.
He was still wearing his cloak, its deep blue folds draped over his shoulders. Shadows clung to his frame, and his eyes, usually brimming with focus and intent, looked tired.
“Let her inside.”
Pao sent me an exasperated look before he backed away. I would need a mountain of sweet bean cakes to claim his favor again.
Chiruan!I gestured wildly.He’s—
“I know you are upset, Lina,” said Takkan. His voice was tenser than I’d ever heard it. “But the evidence is clear as day. Chiruan has murdered a man, and committed high treason against the emperor, and against Kiata. I know he was a mentor to you, and I am grateful for his kindness, but this war has many loyalties divided. Sometimes the truth is the hardest poison to swallow.”
Everything he said made sense. It was exactly what Andahai or Benkai would have done if someone they trusted had betrayed them. And yet, I couldn’t believe it.
I was searching for a slip of paper to tell him so when I saw Chiruan’s box.
It rested on Takkan’s desk, freshly opened. I recognized its smooth red lacquer, the abalone-shelled etchings of young children at play, the splatters of oil and sauce that Chiruan meticulously wiped from the enamel each night. He hadn’t gotten a chance this time.
The lid lay on the ground, its silk casing stripped. Takkan picked it up and held it beside a lantern. “What do you read, Lina?”
Swallowing hard, I leaned toward the lid.
Painted on the inside of the lid were lists of ingredients and cooking times and temperatures. Variationstoo.
gold, one was titled.for sleep.
Below it:black, for death.
The blood drained from my face, my vision swimming in and out. I squeezed my eyes shut. So that was what Takkan meant by evidence.
“We will hold off on a trial until the recipe has been confirmed,” said Takkan, closing the box. “But it doesn’t look promising, Lina. A good man is dead. Let us take some comfort in knowing that his killer has been found, and pray that we find some answers.”
My face stung with the ugliness of it all, but I nodded mutely.
No one had access to the box except Chiruan. Not Rai or Kenton, or any of the servants. I wished I could ask Chiruan why. Why Oriyu? Why had he betrayed Kiata in this way?
The sentinels would get an answer soon enough. Maybe the reasonwasas simple as money. I thought of the gold makans jangling in that hemp pouch—Chiruan’s reward. Perhaps there was more: maybe a position in the palace if Yuji rose to the throne. I couldn’t think of anything else.
Does it matter?I asked myself.Does it matter why someone you trust betrays you?
I was thinking of Raikama now, not Chiruan.
No,I answered. But I still wanted to know.
“Careful of your curiosity, little one,” Raikama used to tease when I was small. “Stray too close to the fire, and you’ll only burn.”
Ironic that my stepmother should’ve given such a warning. I was already burning, and she—Raikama—was the one who had set the flames.
After Chiruan’s arrest, everyone in the kitchen was like a ghost, half there and half not. Once I finished helping Rai and Kenton clean the sentinels’ mess, I shut myself in my room. Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t embroil myself in the fortress’s affairs any longer. My time in Iro was approaching its end, and I still had one final task to complete before I left.
I covered the paper panels on my windows and doors, then spread the starstroke across my lap. The threads were exquisite, a lustrous braid of gold and violet and red, like the three magics that had forged it. Demonfire, the blood of stars, and Emuri’en’s strands of fate. I needed to weave them together tight enough to rein in my stepmother’s dragon magic.
