by Liz Delton
“The next time either of them confronts you, listen to everything they say, but do not agree to anything. The spirits have different ways of doing things, and you never want to enter a bargain with one.”
“But what if it was some way of ending the feud—”
“Agree to nothing. It could cost you everything.”
At Zowan’s sharp tone, Kira ceased her argument, and she merely nodded.
“Now, stop stalling, and tell me about your dagger.”
Kira’s gut dropped to her feet. She took a deep breath and clutched the hilt. “It’s real.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Because it wouldn’t be safe for me to rely on a weapon that might break if the creator’s will wasn’t strong enough, and I don’t think you would take a risk like that.”
Zowan stared at her open-mouthed for a moment but then said, “But you don’t know for sure.”
Kira truthfully shook her head.
“I like your reasoning, Starless one, so I’ll take it. But,” he added as he slipped out his own dagger again, “you’ll need to learn how to tell the difference if you want to be able to destroy others’ Light magic.”
“Why would I want to destroy other Light magic?”
“Destroying a person’s weapon or defenses is sometimes quicker than defeating the person fighting behind them.”
“But isn’t it Shadow that—”
“The spies we hope to protect you from will likely not be wielding Shadow. If they’re close enough to gather important information on Light, they will wield Light magic. It’s only in their hearts—or their purses—that they’re dark.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dark Moon
Kira had no idea what to expect on the day of the new moon ceremony, but the novices, pages, and squires started the day as if a holiday were coming up. The Masters were slightly more jovial than usual. Master Caledon only assigned them a short poem to copy, and they were allowed to use either quills or brushes. Kira wasn’t great with either, but she had a little more control over a quill, and today’s poem was surprisingly legible by the time she was done.
Her first class of the day, however, was no different than usual. If anything, Master Tenchi worked the class harder than ever, reminding Kira of the public school teachers in her own realm drilling a class before a big state test. Once Kira and Jun had finished in the main ring, sweating and breathless, they joined up with Nesma to complete their final kitchen house chore rotation together.
It had taken Kira some time to realize, but the Realm of Camellia kept track of its months by the rotations of the moon. It made sense to her, but instead of October, tomorrow would merely be the first day of the tenth month.
When she told Jun about this on their way down to the kitchen house, Jun wouldn’t stop laughing. He had her recite all the names of the months and cackled particularly loud when he had her spell out “February.”
Nesma, further down the stairs beside Hikaru, threw a glance back at Kira and Jun, and Kira elbowed him in the ribs.
“What’s so funny?” Nesma asked.
“Nothing,” Jun snorted. “Kira was just telling me something silly about what they did in her hometown for the new moon.”
“What was it?” Nesma asked, dropping back with a small smile.
“It wasn’t that funny,” Kira mumbled. She shot Jun an irritated look. She still didn’t know much about Heliodor and wasn’t about to make anything up.
“Oh, all right.” Nesma frowned and hurried up to rejoin Hikaru.
“Look what you made me do,” Kira said to Jun, who was wiping tears of mirth from the corners of his eyes.
“Oh, don’t worry about it.”
“I am worrying about it! Now Nesma’s mad at me!”
“Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down, Kosumoso. I’m your mentor here, and you listen to me.”
“And I’m your mentor for Camellia, since Zowan can’t even teach you not to call the months Febrew and Octobus—”
“It’s October!” she retorted and drew back, pausing near the arch leading back into the square and watching Nesma and Hikaru disappear through it. “And Zowan is teaching me plenty. It’s not my fault, you know. Ichiro says visitors from my realm are normally honored—not swept under the rug and made to lie about who they are.”
“You want your own poet. That’s what it is, isn’t it?”
“No, shut up!” She punched him lightly on the arm, seeing the mischief dancing behind his eyes.
“Which visitor was it again who had his own poet?” she asked quietly as she and Jun scrubbed the last of the dishes an hour later.
“Kotaro. I can’t believe you still don’t know about the other visitors.”
“And when would I have had time to learn? I can barely manage sleep, let alone extra practice with you, the chores, the lessons…and Zowan seems more interested in teaching me how to fight with weapons than giving me history lessons.”
“Maybe that’s for the best right now,” Jun remarked, handing her the last bowl to dry off.
Nesma was quiet as the three ate their belated breakfast together after Miss Mayu had cleared them of duty.
“How will we know which chore we’re assigned next?” Kira asked her mentor in an effort to cheer her up.
Nesma swallowed her food and addressed Kira’s shoulder. “Jun and I will have assignments in our postboxes tomorrow morning, but pages get to choose theirs, so I’m not really sure…”
Kira cringed, but Nesma didn’t see it as she stood and cleared up her tray.
“I’ll meet you two at the garden. I’m going to ask Hikaru’s brother what you’re supposed to do about chores, Kira. I don’t know how you’re supposed to choose.” Her words were without emotion, but they struck Kira hard, as if her mentor had shouted them.
There was only one thing that would overtake her feelings of guilt at advancing over Nesma, and it happened as they were leaving the courtyard behind the kitchen house.
Kira tripped on a root and fell flat on her face.
“RABENDA SASAKI!” Miss Mayu fumed from the back door to the kitchen house, where she had just appeared.
The root Kira had tripped on disappeared with a small burst of Light magic, and Rabenda turned just as white as the root she had dispersed.
“Deliberately causing harm to another trainee with Light magic!” Miss Mayu’s nostrils flared in anger.
“It wasn’t—” Rabenda began.
“Oh, yes it was. I saw you with my own eyes. You stay right there until I—no, wait.” Miss Mayu’s eyes narrowed, but even from the ground Kira could see a glimmer of mischief in them. “Get back in the kitchen house. You’ll be scrubbing the floors of the refuse room until I have a chance to speak with Master Starwind.”
Rabenda, face flaming red, stared between her mentor Kuma, and Miss Mayu, mouth agape. Neither Kuma nor Mayu spoke, and Rabenda stormed into the kitchen house with one last look at Kira, her eyes glinting with malice.
Kira—spellbound at the long-awaited justice—finally took the hand Jun had been offering her. Despite Nesma’s disappointment at her, Kira finally had something to smile about.
***
“Quit moving, Jun,” Kira muttered without moving her lips. Though her knees hurt something fierce from her trip earlier, she remained kneeling in the circle around the cherry blossom tree, but Jun had begun fidgeting more than half an hour ago.
Nearly three hours earlier, she and Jun had been instructed to join the novices petitioning to become pages in a circle around the cherry blossom tree. Most unfortunately, she faced the Moonstone, where the enormous clock ticked away each minute she kneeled on the hard stones. But it was almost midnight.
To anyone without Light magic, it would have been the darkest night, with the new moon concealed as it was. But to Kira and everyone around her, the night held perfect detail in the delicate glow of magic. The very stars above glowed even more fiercely without their usu
al celestial competition. The sky glowed with Light luminescence, a blanket of diamonds. Kira could almost agree that her realm was Starless compared to this beauty.
The pages and squires who petitioned to advance this evening had been led away earlier to conduct their no doubt more difficult ceremonies and would return at midnight if they succeeded. All advancements relied on the Master’s vote of approval as well as the ceremony.
Kira’s advancement almost felt like another lie. The only thing that made her feel better about it was Jun. She was neck and neck with him on combat and Light training, and if he advanced, it meant that her advancement wasn’t all just a coverup.
The bystanders—those trainees who opted to stay up all night to witness the ceremony—trickled in from the dorm houses as midnight approached. Nesma and Hikaru, who had arrived only a few minutes ago, stood facing Kira and Jun. Kira was annoyed to see Nesma still looking forlorn, but then she shook her head to clear it.
She was supposed to be meditating on the great responsibility of advancement—at least that’s what Ichiro had told them when they began. She had been relieved that all she had to do was kneel in front of the cherry blossom tree for three hours in order to confirm her advancement to page. The other novices who weren’t guaranteed advancement, like Jun, awaited the verdict of the Masters, who voted on such matters during the ceremony.
Kira hadn’t meditated on her advancement, at first. But then she looked back on her past month spent at Gekkō-ji, and she was pleasantly surprised to realize how much she had progressed. She felt she was ready for the advancement—if only so she might stop all the extra practice sessions with Jun.
All of a sudden, Jun straightened. Kira watched him out of the corner of her eye and saw his gaze directed at an older man who had just joined the crowd of onlookers. The man was now drawing the attention of every eye in the courtyard. Trainees nearly tripped trying to get out of his way. Spiky dark hair met with a grizzled beard on the worn face, beneath which a mantle of intricate steel mail spread from his neck to his wide shoulders. The mantle was unusual, the individual pieces of steel shaped into thick diamonds, the garment curved up at the shoulders. Kira had never seen him before.
Ichiro arrived a moment later and entered the circle, causing even more excitement in the waiting crowd. He unfurled an official-looking scroll as he walked and came to a halt under the branches of the brilliant cherry blossom tree. The close of the ceremony was almost upon them.
Next came the petitioning pages and squires in two sedate lines, finished with their own tests. They came to stand behind the kneeling novices, making Kira nervous.
“It is almost time.”
Whispers halted at Ichiro’s words, and the temple square grew silent. Kira had expected Ichiro to go on, but he merely waited, watching the big clock on the Moonstone—just as everyone else did.
Finally, the minute hand moved, and with a horrible screeching noise, so did the shadows.
A massive black form swooped over the crowd, causing shrieks of panic. Kira looked to Ichiro—half wondering if this was part of the ceremony—but he had braced himself against the cherry blossom tree’s trunk and was gazing up at the dark-creature in confusion and—was it?—fear.
The creature was visible only due to its inky darkness—just like the hound creature that had attacked Kira in the Starless Realm. Yet this one could fly.
Someone slammed into Kira in an effort to get out of the way, but there was nowhere to go to avoid it. Jun grabbed Kira by the elbow, and they both edged back toward the tree. Though it was delicate with its glowing blossoms, it was made of Light magic and felt like the safest place to be—especially since the man in the diamond mail had joined Ichiro there.
“What is it?” a panicked novice girl cried near Kira’s ear.
Dragon, Kira thought. The wide wings spread far over the courtyard, yet no gust of wind descended upon them as the creature rose.
“Is it the Storm King?” came a terrified shout.
They watched in horror as the beast made another pass at the group, swooping low and keening a terrible shriek.
The Masters and knights began to gather the trainees, assembling them near the tree. Nesma and Hikaru quickly found them, and Nesma clung to Kira’s arm, all disappointment erased from her face.
“What is it?” her mentor whimpered.
Kira glanced at Jun. “Nothing good.” She knew exactly what it was. But how could she warn Ichiro and the knight?
The Master of Gekkō-ji and his companion were preparing to fight.
“Jun, is that your father?” Hikaru asked incredulously.
“Yes,” Jun replied, managing to look both embarrassed and proud.
Kira’s gaze pinned on the knight. The Grey Knight, Jovan Kosumoso. No wonder the crowd had been astonished by his arrival. He was only one of six in the entire realm to wield both Light and Shadow. No doubt he had come to watch his son advance to page. Jovan strode through the panicked crowd, this time with violence in his gait. Then he stopped and planted his feet. The beast prepared to swoop down upon them again.
Would it turn solid this time and crush them all in its claws?
Jovan raised both hands and, as if cracking a set of reins, brought them down toward the beast. A dark wind sparkling with what looked like hundreds of daggers of Light whipped toward the creature from his hands, hurtling along the streak of wind.
But Kira had known what would happen. The shining daggers sailed right through the beast. Jovan banished the Light with a flick of his hand, and the daggers disappeared, unquenched by their foe.
The dark dragon swooped low, its inky claws mere feet from Jovan and Ichiro.
“If they can’t touch it, can it hurt us?” Nesma stared up at the beast with wide eyes.
“I think it can become solid,” Kira said.
“How do you know?” Jun asked.
Kira tried to give him a look that portrayed the delicate nature of her information. He bit his lip, staring at his father’s back.
Jovan turned to watch the creature’s progress as it circled around the top of the mountain, readying to swoop down upon them, each time lower and lower.
Ichiro and many of the knights began pulling Light magic from their surroundings to construct barriers against the beast. Knowing Light magic was only as strong as the maker’s will, Kira desperately hoped they were focused—and focused on making it hard as steel.
As fast as the knights and Ichiro could pull the magic from their surroundings, beams of Light magic formed a protective dome over the trainees. Kira had never seen so much Light magic before. The stones at her feet were losing their pearly glow as the knights borrowed the essence to protect them.
Again, the dragon bore down upon them. A few knights had joined Jovan, but they sprang back as the Grey Knight summoned a strong wind from nowhere.
It whipped around the man, ruffling his clothes, his diamond mail clinking, the wind whirling in a dense cloud around him. The wind howled when he released it, hurtling toward the descending dragon.
Without waiting to see if it was effective, Jovan began summoning more magic, but this time, Kira couldn’t tell if it was Light or Shadow.
Coils and coils of something were swirling around Jovan, mostly fluid, yet glowing dimly. She supposed this was Grey magic—a perfect blend between the two magics.
The dragon, momentarily thrown off course by the wind, was soon covered in the deadly coils. As if they were alive, the coils wrapped themselves around the dragon, and the crowd gasped. It worked! The coils twined themselves around the dragon’s dark wings and claws, tightening. The dragon thrashed on the cobblestones, desperately trying to free its wings.
“That’s not Shadow magic,” hissed someone behind Kira, and her insides turned to ice. If it wasn’t a creature sent to attack them by the Storm King, then what was it?
Now Jovan and the knights were summoning weapons. One spear flew through the air and sank into the beast. The next second, it shed its soli
dity and broke free from the coils in a shriek of rage.
Having lost its momentum, it flapped its way awkwardly toward the dome protecting the trainees and landed heavily on top of it, claws grasping at the beams of Light. Kira gasped as the dark claws scrambled above her and the others, but the dome held. What did the thing want? she wondered again.
The spear had landed in its shoulder. Black blood like sickly ink dripped into the dome, and the nearest trainees shrunk away from the growing puddle.
Jovan lost no time taking advantage of the beast’s wound. He summoned another dark wind and aimed it straight at the spear, pushing the weapon farther into the wound. Another shriek rent the air, and Kira clapped her hands over her ears. Nesma, crouched beside her, did the same.
Then they heard the groaning. The Light beams holding the dome together were straining under the weight of the now solid dragon. Trapped, the trainees looked to Ichiro, Jovan, and the knights.
Surrounded by the glow of their Light weapons, the knights hurtled everything they had at the dark dragon. One knight summoned spear after spear to hurl at it—but the dragon darted this way and that, clinging to the dome with its claws as it tried to avoid the weapons and now the wind that Jovan was throwing at it. Light arrows flew from several bows, to minimal effect.
The dome creaked and groaned. When the dragon shifted all its weight to one side to avoid a dagger-laced gust of wind from Jovan, the entire Light structure keened to the side, beams breaking off here and there as the dragon scrabbled to keep its balance.
The trainees rushed out of the open dome. Kira lurched to her feet and clung to Jun and Nesma so as not to be separated.
“Out!” Ichiro called. “Quickly—to the Moonstone!”
The dragon detangled itself from the bars of the dome, and soon it was snarling on the cobblestones, with only the knights between it and half the trainees of Gekkō-ji.
Kira ran with the others, clutching both Nesma and Jun’s arms. There was no time to look back. The flood of trainees rushed toward the Moonstone, that was until they heard the blood-curdling shriek of a girl behind them.