I shook my head. I didn’t understand. “The Wolf tricked me. I made it to break the curse—”
“And so you will break mine,” said Raikama. “Take my pearl.”
“But you’ll die without it.”
“Please. It’s hurting me.”
Still, I hesitated. The satchel suddenly felt heavy. I opened its flap, the light from the starstroke net immediately pouring out as I lifted it. But I could not bring myself to lay it over my stepmother.
Snakes slithered to Raikama’s feet, rubbing against her affectionately. “Snakes have always been sensitive to magic,” she said. “They’re cousins of dragons, did you know?”
I nodded mutely.
“Do you remember the day you came into my garden to steal one of my snakes?”
Another nod. How could I forget?
“They sensed your magic even before I did. It was powerful—and dangerous; many would covet it. You were so curious about them, Shiori, and about me. At first I didn’t mind, but as I grew to love you, you made me so happy that my light began to shine too brightly. I knew I couldn’t keep my secrets from you forever.”
I closed my eyes, remembering the rare occasions my stepmother would glow with that light so radiant and beautiful, I’d wonder anew if she was the lady of the moon herself. Sooner or later, I would have asked her if it was magic.
“That was why I closed my heart to you. I buried your memories and did all I could to keep you away from magic, even if that meant keeping you from me.” Her breathing grew more uneven. “But then your powers surfaced anyway, and you met that dragon. I knew it’d only be a matter of time before someone else found out about your magic.”
“You could have told me. You could have told Father.”
“I wanted to,” she admitted. “So many times I came close, but I was afraid of revealing my own secrets. Of losing you and your father—my family. Then I lost them anyway.”
Her voice fell soft, each word straining from her lips as if it pained her. Just seeing her eyes, glassy with tears she struggled to hold back, I was ready to forgive her for everything.
But not yet.
“Why curse my brothers?” I needed to know.
She swallowed visibly, leaning her head back against thetree.
“That was not entirely my doing,” she confessed at last. “In Tambu, my affinity with serpents gave me some power, but that was more of a curse. Best forgotten.” She lowered her eyes, and I wondered what dark past she had left behind. “Here, my magic comes from my pearl. It is unlike any other, as you might have noticed. Dark and broken—like my heart, once.” She inhaled deeply. “It augments my power and obeys my commands, but not always in the way I wish.”
She raised her gaze to meet mine. “I meant to protect you from the Wolf, Shiori. I meant to hide who you were and send you away, at least until I found a way to deal with him. But when you told your brothers I was a demon, I panicked. I tried to make them forget, but I couldn’t. All I knew was that I needed to protect them as well as you. Turning them into cranes was how the pearl chose to obey my wishes.”
My voice was small. “Would they really have died if I had spoken?”
“Yes. The pearl does not lie.”
Her certainty made my throat close up. “But why?”
Raikama wrung her hands. “Monster I may seem, but I am human like you, and I have made my share of mistakes. One of those was turning to the pearl, especially when I was afraid….” She sighed, finally answering, “The pearl takes fate and twists it to its own purpose. Turning your brothers into cranes, whisking you far to the North and forcing you to make a starstroke net, crossing your strands with the Dragon King—all this it has done because it wishes to return to its owner.” Her jaw tightened. “That owner has never been me.”
“Its power has been a burden to you.” I finally understood.
Raikama gave the slightest nod. “Free me of it, Shiori. Please.”
I warred against myself over whether or not to honor my stepmother’s request. In the end, I knew I could not disobey her. Not now.
Slowly, I lowered the net, spreading it across her body as if it were a blanket. Goose bumps had risen over her bare arms; her sleeves were torn and frayed. Funny—I had woven the net to this size intending to incapacitate her, not to keep her warm. But how glad I was for it now.
The starstroke glittered, its braid of three magics shimmering intensely around the broken pearl in my stepmother’s chest. Raikama’s hands clenched at her sides, her nails digging into the dirt. She was holding in a scream, I could tell, and she let out a sharp gasp as the net grew brighter, overpowering the light from her pearl.
It rolled out of her heart like a drop of night and floated above my open hands.
