“Are you from the moon?” I whispered, remembering now. That was what I’d asked her.
“No. I come from no home,” Raikama had replied, in stilted Kiatan.
“I didn’t know your legends then,” Raikama now explained, “so I didn’t know what to say.”
For years, I was certain she was from the moon. Then I forgot.
Now I knew it was her dragon pearl that made her glow. Now I knew why she never liked the legend of Imurinya. It reminded her too much of herself.
“Do you have a home now?”
“Yes,” she said. “Home is where I don’t need my light to feel warm. It’s with you, your brothers, and your father.”
She drew a ragged breath, trying to come up onto her elbows. But something hurt her, and she would not tell me what.
“Take us home, Shiori,” she whispered. “Take us home.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Even with the guidance of Raikama’s thread, the journey home took all night. I was not strong enough to carry my stepmother on my own, and being a paper bird, Kiki was of little help. Using my magic to aid us only tired me, so I slung my stepmother’s arms around my shoulders and followed her ball of thread through the woods, one heavy step at a time.
“Come back for me in the morning,” Raikama rasped when I stopped to catch my breath. “I won’t go anywhere.”
It was a lighthearted joke like the ones she used to tell when I was little, but I couldn’t laugh. No. I wouldn’t leaveher.
Kiki led the way, flittering about the thread as she waited impatiently for us to catch up. She kept her distance from Raikama, but she was always watching her. My stepmother noticed.
“That’s quite a bird you have,” she said. “It comforted me to know you had her as company when I sent you away.”
“She’s my best friend,” I replied. “We’ve been through much together.”
A long pause. “I’m sorry I killed her once. I’m sorry for many things, Shiori.”
“I know.”
My stepmother was silent the rest of the walk, her eyes closed, her chest so still that I couldn’t tell if she was breathing. Her beautiful face was like porcelain, leached of color. She did not bleed, but deep down I knew her life was ebbing away. The pearl in her heart shimmered fiercely, as if trying to put her back together again.
Maybe she’s hibernating,Kiki said, noticing the worried crease in my brow.Snakes do that during the winter, you know.
“I hope so, Kiki” was all I could muster. “I hope so.”
By the time the thread led us back to my stepmother’s garden, it was nearly dawn. My brow was moist with sweat, my shoulders sore from bearing Raikama for hours. I set her gently underneath a tree and called for the guards.
No answer.
“Guards!”
Raikama touched my arm. “They’re asleep, Shiori,” she said feebly. “Your father, too.”
I didn’t understand. “I’ll wake them.”
“No,” she said, not letting go. “They’ll awaken when spring arrives. Lord Yuji’s forces came to attack, so I put the whole city to sleep.” She paused. “There are good men in Yuji’s army. Loyal men, who had no choice but to follow their lord into battle. I would not have your country torn apart by needless bloodshed if I could stop it.”
She squeezed my arm, the shadows under her eyes betraying what such a spell must have cost her. “The city will be frozen until spring. You and your brothers will be safe here.”
“Let me help you.”
“You already have,” she replied. “By weaving the net.”
