Try again tomorrow,suggested Kiki.The dragon said she keeps her powers hidden.
“He also said to practicemymagic,” I retorted. “Every hour I waste spying on her is a missed opportunity to improve my skills.”
So is every minute you waste complaining,quipped Kiki, my unlikely voice of reason.
I let out another sigh, but the bird had a point.
“Ripen,” I said to a budding berry, and it became plump enough that a kitebird dove to snatch it from my hand. “Skip,” I commanded a stone, and it hopped across the lake until it was far from sight.
Such spells were easy, but things like trying to change the direction of the wind or call the larks and swallows to my fingertips—simple enchantments that should have been natural for any sorceress—made me fall asleep from the effort.
It’s all right to feel bad about your lack of skill,Kiki said, trying to soothe me. Her sense of empathy was still a ways from being fine-tuned.At least you can dosomething,unlike everyone else in Kiata.
“Except Raikama.” I flicked my fingertips into the lake, trying to make a tidal wave like Seryu had, but the water barely rippled.
You don’t want to ask her for help?
“I’d rather drown in the Sacred Lake,” I retorted.
That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?Kiki chided. When I sighed again, she poked at my cheek.Why so despondent, Shiori?
It didn’t have to do with Raikama, not really. I had the rest of the summer to find out her secret; I was only in a rush because I was bored.
“My brothers taught me to swim in this lake,” I finally replied. “We’d laugh so loudly we’d scare the ducks away. Andahai would pretend to be an octopus and attack us if we couldn’t swim fast enough. I miss those times. I don’t want us all to marry, to grow up and grow apart.”
My brothers hadn’t so much as asked for me this summer. Andahai and Benkai were always in hushed meetings with Father and generals and ambassadors, Wandei was immersed in his books, Yotan was popular in court and constantly out with his friends, and Reiji and Hasho were currently engaged in a chess rivalry that allowed time for nothing else.
As I pulled my feet out of the lake, the wind pushed the current toward me. It was growing stronger, a sign that autumn was drawing near. I raised my arms, basking in the rush of cool air as it slipped into my sleeves.
No matter how many joyful memories I conjured up, no matter how loudly I shouted, I could not get the wind to listen.
How about that?Kiki suggested, pointing her wing at something floating in the lake.Why don’t you tell the wind to blow it toward you?
I squinted. What could that be, glittering under a raft of moss and seaweed?
I scrambled along the shore and grabbed the longest branch I could find. Then I fished out the last thing I expected to see again.
“My sash!” I exclaimed.
It was the one I had worn when I jumped into the lake—the very one Raikama had asked me about. Its golden threads were soaked, the floral pattern was smeared with dirt, and the threads were tangled with moss, but it was otherwise intact.
I wrung it out, my thoughts churning. After spying on Raikama for weeks, I was half convinced Seryu was out of his dragon mind for thinking she was a sorceress. At least I’d find out why she’d wanted this silly sash.
Impulsiveness and curiosity—two of my fairest traits—had me bursting into her sewing room, waving it like a soldier’s banner.
“Stepmother!” I said, displaying the damp and crumpled sash. “You wished to see this.”
Raikama barely looked up from her embroidery. “Only because it was a gift from Lord Yuji. You’ve already offended one family, Shiori. Best not to insult another.” She knotted her thread, then snipped it with a pair of scissors. “Have the maids clean it along with the rest of your things.”
I turned to leave, and I would have thought nothing more of the incident—if not for the shadow that swept Raikama’s face. Ever so subtly, a faint but unmistakable ring of gold flickered in her eyes.
The next morning, my sash was missing.
“Her Radiance wanted it,” responded Guiya when I asked. She was staring at the floor, which was wise, considering that I was gaping at her in disbelief.
“So you gave it to her?” I exclaimed.
Guiya hunched her shoulders, trembling like a mouse. “N-no, Princess. Her Radiance…Her Radiance took it. Perhaps you’d like a red one?” She held up a richly wrapped bundle. “This just arrived from Lord Yuj—”
