Curled up on a straw pallet, with Kiki in the crook of my arm, I dreamt of my brothers. Every night I saw them: Andahai, Benkai, Reiji, Wandei, Yotan, and Hasho. Six cranes with crimson crowns.
Sometimes I called out to them, and they fell, one by one, in a flash of red—with a serpent’s bite on their black-feathered throats. I would wake drenched in sweat, my body violently shaking. Other times I dreamt they were searching for me, flying over distant lands I did not recognize. Those dreams had a vivid clarity, and I prayed they were visions. That my brothers were alive and safe and hadn’t forgotten themselves—or me.
Tonight I dreamt of Raikama.
The trees in our garden had turned a burnished shade of yellow, their leaves singed with a blush of red.
Day after day, my brothers returned to the palace. They flew, squawking cries that sounded vaguely like my name.
“Shiori! Shiori!”
It was against the law to kill a crane on imperial grounds, but the soldiers grew so alarmed by their daily appearance that they shot pebbles at the birds when they tried to land in the gardens. Yet my brothers were not deterred.
Finally, one day, the cries grew so loud that my father himself came to view the six cranes soaring above his palace.
“Strange,” he mused. “Usually the cranes only visit in the winter. Come look.” My stepmother joined him. “They’re different from the birds that ordinarily visit.”
“Different? Husband, you can read the faces of birds now?”
“No.” My father made a sad little laugh. “But their eyes…they almost look human. So doleful. Almost as if I’ve seen them before…”
At that, my stepmother stiffened. “They’re turning violent,” she replied. “The largest one attacked a guard today, and another flew into my garden. They’re wild cranes. Have the guards shoot them if they come again.”
Before my father could protest, the flecks of gold in my stepmother’s eyes shimmered, and his face went slack. He nodded mutely, as if thinking,Of course you’re right.
The next time my brothers came searching for me, she made them forget too. “Fly south,” she said. “Forget your sister, and join the others of your kind.”
No!I wanted to scream.Don’t listen to her!
But away the six cranes flew, and I could not tell whether my stepmother’s enchantment had touched them or the archers had frightened themoff.
When I woke, my back was moist with sweat, and my legs were sore from kicking in my dreams. But my mind was sharper than it’d ever been, as if it had finally pierced the veil of fear Raikama had cast over me, and whittled my sorrow into steel-hard mettle.
I’d languished here long enough. It was time to make Raikama pay for what she had done. It was time to find mybrothers.
CHAPTER TEN
Mrs. Dainan was in the kitchen, watering down the rice wine and tossing this afternoon’s leftovers into the vegetable stew I’d made for dinner.
“What is it, Lina?” she asked impatiently.
Yesterday’s nightmare had bolstered my courage. I outstretched my hand, making a gesture for money.
Mrs. Dainan scoffed. “You’ve some nerve, asking me for money. Why should I pay a thief?”
I didn’t take back my hand. I’d been here for two months, and during that time, I’d more than made back whatever her shrimping boat was worth. She knew it. I knew it.
The handle of her broom came crashing down toward my head. I saw it coming and dodged, but it still hit my shoulder.
Pain shot up my collarbone, and I pressed my lips tight so I wouldn’t cry out. The possibility that I might accidentally make a noise frightened me far more than Mrs. Dainan’s strikes.
“Thief that you are, you think anyone else will take you in?” she jeered. “Maybe I should sell you to the brothel. But who would want you with that ridiculous thing on your head?”
I clenched my fists to keep from reacting rashly. I needed to endure this just a while longer. My nails bit into my palms as I calmed myself.
“What do you need money for, anyway? You’ve no home, no family.” She closed the window shutters with a clatter. “Now get out before I—”
Her rebuke was cut off by the sound of hooves cantering to a stop. A horse neighed outside the door.
