“Eat more,” said Megari. “Mother and Father always say that courage is the Bushian creed, but in times like these I wish it were more like ‘Keep to yourself and drink tea.’ Maybe then my oaf of a brother wouldn’t have us all agonizing over what’s happened to him.”
I stopped chewing. Swallowed.
“No, you should eat. I’ve been stuffing myself with persimmons and cakes, trying not to worry about Takkan. But I shouldn’t. Worry, I mean.” Megari straightened, though her shoulders still trembled. “He promised to be back before the Winter Festival, and he never breaks a promise. He’s too afraid of me to even try.”
I offered her a brave smile. I knew what it was like to worry about brothers.
The last time I had spoken to Takkan, he had asked me to come to Iro. It was beautiful, he’d said. His eagerness to return home was plain to see. He would not have kept away by choice. Not without word to his family.
Not unless something terrible had happened.
“I feel better now that you’re here, though,” Megari said, perking up a little. Her small shoulders still shook, but she reached for one of her dolls and hugged it. “I have a feeling I know why he gave you his emblem. You’re like a girl out of one of his stories.”
My smile turned inquisitive. His stories? Takkan didn’t strike me as a spinner of tales, but what did I know about my former betrothed? I hadn’t even been able to recognize that his brute of a cousin was traveling under his name.
“I suppose it’s my duty to watch over you until he’s back,” said Megari. “Gods know what horrible lies Hasege and Zairena have spread about you, with that bowl on your head. You can’t take it off, can you?”
I twisted my lips, expressing the obvious.
“That’s unfortunate.” The little girl sighed. “It’s odd, you know—Zairena wasn’t always a bully, not like my cousin. Now they’re like two blossoms on the same rotten branch.”
Megari rose. “Mama will keep Hasege in line at least, but these days, Zairena could set the whole castle on fire and Mama wouldn’t blame her.”
I spread my arms in question.Why is that?
“Because her parents were killed by bandits deep in the Zhensa. Mama was devastated—Lady Tesuwa was her best friend.”
That explained the white robes; Zairena was in mourning.
“I heard you were found in the Zhensa too,” said Megari, opening her desk drawer. “Were you on your way home?”
I didn’t know how to answer so she could understand.
She took out a sheet of parchment and offered me a brush and ink she had already prepared. “Can you write? If you tell me where you’re from, I can ask Oriyu to send you back. Or you could point to a map.”
I hesitated. At Sparrow Inn, I’d considered telling Takkan who I was, but Raikama’s curse had stopped me. My stepmother couldn’t know I was in Iro. Did I dare try again with Megari?
My wrist tensed, the starstroke burns making it hard for my fingers to hold something so delicate, but I ignored thepain.
I am
I lifted my hand, not daring to continue. It was a test, these two innocent words. I waited with my brush hovering over the paper. Nothing happened, no foreboding shadows. No snakes.
Was I finally out of Raikama’s reach?
I dipped my brush into the ink eagerly. There was so much to say. I could tell her to bring me back to my brothers, or that my stepmother was a sorceress. Or that my brothers had been turned into cranes…
But as I started to write, the ink splattered, spreading impossibly…into the shape of a nebulous black serpent.
The brush slipped from my hand.
I’m sorry,I mouthed, blotting the precious pages with my sleeve. The serpent had vanished, but ink had spilled all over her desk.
“It’s only a spill,” said Megari.
It was no spill. My hands curled into fists as a wave of heat washed over my face. There would be no writing to Father, no soliciting Megari’s help. Nowhere was I safe from Raikama’s curse.
The serpent still burning in my memory, I scrambled for the tray I had brought. I needed to leave, to get back to the kitchen, but the doors suddenly opened from the other side, and in strode Zairena with a pot of steaming tea.
