Page 48 of Drawn into Oblivion

Cherry blossom petals materialized in a column above the hastily drawn circle, spinning about in a furious whirlwind. Their number swelled in seconds until the column became nearly solid with soft pink flowers. Mai smudged the edge of the circle, releasing the petals. They burst out in all directions, washing over the ten women on stage, billowing across the pond in great clouds, and fluttering down to the cheering audience.

Hiding her face behind her sleeve, Mai delicately spit out a couple of petals that had flown into her open mouth. She then stood along with her fellow house elders, thrilled they had executed their choreography without any mistakes. Nae was bouncing in place, clapping with relief, and Arashi smiled as she picked cherry blossoms out of her hair. Mai didn’t want to think about how many were lodged in her braid.

All she wanted was to look at Rosuke.

She sidled past Kagumi of House Berry and found him in the crowd. He wore a broad smile and clapped high above his head. She returned his grin, so uplifted by his approval that she felt as though she soared high above the park. Then four sets of arms engulfed her as the Spring ladies cheered in relief. Their performance had been only a five-minute piece, but it had taken so much work.

“It was perfect. I’m so happy,” Taiga of House River squealed in her ear. Mai joined her fellow dancers in a short, celebratory moment.

But all too soon, they had to make way for the Summer house elders whose performance would take place at midday. After erasing her circle, Mai helped sweep the remaining petals off the crowded stage. Though the flowers were real, she had altered the spell to make them temporary, and they would melt like snow in a few hours.

She made her way back to solid ground, where Shumei and her guards still stood. Vallen was nowhere to be seen, but he, like Rosuke, had many duties that day, so his absence wasn’t a surprise. Glowing praise from the empress boosted Mai’s spirits even higher. She thought she couldn’t smile any wider, but she did.

Free for the rest of the day, she squeezed through the crowd to where Rosuke had been standing, but he had disappeared. She turned about in a circle, stretching up to her tiptoes to see over everyone’s heads, but she didn’t spot anyone in a black uniform except for a captain on the other side of the pond. Determined to find her lover, she hiked up the hem of her dress and did a circuit of the festival stalls.

But after twenty minutes of searching, she couldn’t locate him. He wasn’t even at the archery grounds, though she learned he had been there in the hour before her performance. Neither was he in the crowd already gathering for the next performance, which he was obliged to attend as a member of Summer’s House Dragonfly.

Mai tried to tell herself he was busy with important duties—that not spending a few moments with her wasn’t personal, but the disappointment was still there, a yawning hole that threatened to swallow her up.

“Elder Mai?” an unfamiliar voice called.

Turning away from a set of archers attempting a bull’s-eye on the shooting range, Mai looked back at an old man with deep laugh lines etched into his skin. What was left of his hair was mostly gray, but she could tell he was a brownie. The scar across his forehead looked a couple months old, its angle and clean lines suggesting he had barely dodged a giant blade. It had probably happened when Houfu had been raided. A gangly brown-haired boy held the old man’s hand and boldly stared at Mai. His eyes were clear and sharp, and the intelligence she saw in them reminded her of Oka.

“Yes?” she said, curious to know their business with her.

“The necklace I made suits you, I see,” the old man said in a gravelly voice.

“Necklace? Oh! You’re the jeweler,” Mai said with surprise. The corners of his eyes crinkled in delight as a smile lifted his sagging skin. He looked ten years younger. His traditional clothing was forest green, and judging by the vibrancy of the dye, it was new. The boy who must’ve been his grandson wore a smaller version. Mai figured they had ordered their attire specifically for the festival.

“Yes, I am. Making that necklace was the least I could do after what you’ve done for our city.”

“Thank you very much, sir. It’s stunning. I’m stunned,” she said, laughing nervously. “I always did like green.”

“I’m delighted to see how well it brings out your eyes, even though I chose the stone according to the—ah, what was it, Hiro?”

“The seasonal color,” Hiro said, still staring at her as if she were from another species. She found it strangely amusing.

“How did you know the seasonal colors, sir? Did you ask a crow?”

“A handsome young man visited me the day of your miracle to request the piece. When he explained why, I couldn’t let him pay for the necklace. He insisted, so we compromised and he paid half,” he confessed. “I worked on it all night and had my grandson take it up to Lantern House.”

“Which young man?”

“I forget his name, to tell the truth,” he admitted with a chuckle as he rubbed the back of his head. “My mind isn’t what it used to be.”

“Rosuke,” Hiro blurted, looking up at his grandfather. “He said he was a soldier. Remember, Grandpa?”

“Ah, that’s right,” the old man said with a nod. “He was rather distracted that day, wasn’t he? He kept saying he wanted to return to the palace, but that he had been kicked out.” All the blood in Mai’s body flooded her cheeks. “Not sure what he meant by that, though.”

“H-he paid for this?” she whispered, dizzy from all the new questions spinning inside her head.

“Well, I doubt anyone could pay what I once charged. I was rather well-to-do in Houfu, if you don’t mind me saying so. I now charge much less, but even so, business is slow. I’ve only sold one thing in the last three months and that was to the new high general. I wonder if I’ll still be alive when the city finally gets back on its feet,” he pondered. “When I was Hiro’s age—”

“Grandpa, can I give her the present?” Hiro’s glance bounced between his grandfather and Mai.

“Ah, yes. Go ahead,” he said. Hiro produced a long, thin box from behind his back.

“B-but, sir,” Mai protested. “You have already been so generous. I really couldn’t—”