Circle of Shadows

by Evelyn Skye

  “No!” Sora shouted.

  But the empress’s laugh came from deep beneath the sand. “Spirit, stand in the middle. Follow me.”

  Sora rushed into the spiral to the spot where Empress Aki had just been. She jerked herself backward at the last second when she realized there was a hole there. Her toe almost slipped down.

  “It’s all right, Spirit,” Empress Aki said from below. “There’s a soft landing down here.”

  Sora looked around to see if anyone was watching. She took a breath and stepped into the hole.

  She let out a small cry as she plummeted. But as the empress had promised, she landed on her feet on a thick mat. Not unlike the ones the Society used for training.

  “Is that—?” Sora began to ask.

  “A sparring mat?” Empress Aki said. “Yes. I have many. Are you surprised?”

  “I . . . I shouldn’t be.” It made sense now why the empress could run so fast. How could Sora have thought that the ruler of their kingdom would just sit around in her throne room? Especially since she’d grown up with a twin brother who trained as a taiga; she couldn’t command magic, but there was no reason she wouldn’t have learned the other drills for physical conditioning and fighting. And Empress Aki had fought the Blood Rift—and won—when she was only fifteen.

  “Good. Because sparring mats are the least of my surprises.”

  It was only then that Sora really took in where they were. It was an underground room. The floor was striped in black and white, as if the Field of Illusions had been beaten into submission and the sand packed tight as stone. Cypress beams held up the ceiling. And the walls were covered in ceramic tiles, some blue, some gold, and some with the Ora tiger crest painted on them.

  “Is this some kind of safe room?” Sora asked, still gaping.

  “You’ll see,” Empress Aki said.

  “Does the commander know about it?”

  “Like I said, only me, the Imperial Guards, and you.”

  Despite the fact that they were on the brink of war with Prince Gin, Sora grinned. She had stepped up to her potential. And now someone was taking her seriously, letting her in on a part of history almost nobody else knew.

  Empress Aki produced a necklace with a locket on it and pressed the locket into one of the tiger tiles.

  A dusty corner of the floor began to sink down into the ground, revealing a stairway.

  “What in all h—” Sora stopped before she cursed in front of the empress.

  “Do you think you could use some of my brother’s fancy magic to light the way in an underground tunnel?” Empress Aki asked. “There are lanterns around here, but it would be faster if you were able to—”

  Sora shook herself out of her shock and conjured an orb of light in her hands, and then several more. They floated in the air around her.

  “Well, then,” the empress said, “that takes care of that.”

  They descended into the cool earth, into a tunnel that ran through the mountain. It went under the Citadel, up beneath the winding road, under the crystal waters of the moat, to the palace. Every thousand yards, a solid iron door sealed and separated the next section of the tunnel from the previous one, and each door was secured by a tiger tile that required the locket medallion to be pressed into it—sometimes it was the tile on the upper right of the left wall, sometimes in the middle of the right wall, sometimes on a spot halfway from the center to the bottom left corner, et cetera. Sora watched in awe as Empress Aki unlocked each door without a moment’s hesitation, the solution to each one memorized.

  On the way to the palace, Sora had explained to the empress what she wanted to do with the crystal. Now they emerged from the tunnels through a panel in the floor of the courtyard where Sora and the other Level 12s had performed their exhibition match.

  “I thought you could use that slab of crystal,” Empress Aki said, pointing to where her chair had been that night. It was the part of the courtyard wall etched with the imperial family’s crowned tiger and the motto “Dignity. Benevolence. Loyalty.”

  “It’s a good size,” Sora said. “But are you sure? I could break down a piece of less significance.”

  Empress Aki looked right at the crest. “No. This one sends the right message.”

  Yes, it does, Sora thought. She’d already known that these principles were the underpinnings of the kingdom. But now Sora also understood that they were the foundation on which she herself had been made. Dignity, benevolence, and loyalty had molded her and her friends, and if they adhered to them, these same principles would guide them into who they were going to be—people as noble and selfless and good as Empress Aki. Hopefully.

  Sora nodded at the crystal wall. “The facets of the etching will also make the light sparkle more, be more unpredictable to the ryuu.”

  Four Imperial Guards arrived. They seemed unsurprised to find that the empress had returned to the palace, as if she’d told them it was a possibility all along.

  “You should take cover, Your Majesty,” Sora said. “This could get messy.”

  “I’ll wait in the tunnel.” She pressed her locket medallion into the secret panel and descended into the courtyard floor. Her Imperial Guards went with her.

  Sora stood alone before the wall. She hadn’t mentioned to the empress that she wasn’t sure how or even if she could break off a piece of the palace.

  What is the best way to do this?

  The fire ryuu had told a story about melting the edges of an iceberg before, but that was no help. Sora wasn’t a master at fire magic, and crystal wouldn’t melt at the kind of temperatures she could manage.

  She could try to command the magic to form giant hands and wrench the wall away, but that might cause irreparable damage to the rest of the palace. Sora shuddered thinking of all the cracks she’d create, and how they’d spread, shattering the rest of Rose Palace because of the fractures.

  Okay. No wrenching the wall.

  What she needed was a clean break.

  “A saw.”

  Actually, several saws. The kind used to cut diamonds. Gods, please let my imagination be enough to guide the magic to do what I need it to do.

  Sora looked for the emerald particles. She called for as many of them as possible, and they rushed in from all over, sparkling streaks through the sky and into the courtyard. She willed the magic into long, sharp, steady blades. She directed them to the top of the wall, one enormous green saw poised over the right side, the other on the left.

  Cut, she thought.

  They began to slide back and forth, slowly, as if sawing through wood, and spewing splinters as if they were sawing through wood as well. Except these splinters were made of crystal. Sharp crystal.

  Sora leaped as far as she could and covered her head under the shower of needles. Stop! she commanded the saws.

  They ceased their motion. But some of the particles started to dissipate as she lost control over them, because she was looking at the blood seeping into her uniform from the many places her skin had been pierced.

  Deal with the wounds later, she told herself. They’re just splinters.

  A hundred or so of them, but still. Just splinters.

  Sora turned back to the saws and yelped as she saw them disintegrating back into the air, the particles wandering off because she wasn’t paying attention to them.

  No! Back into formation.

  The magic hesitated, as if momentarily confused. Then most of the particles began to drift back into the shape of their saws.

  She exhaled.

  All right. Cutting back and forth on crystal was dangerous. Perhaps she had to approach this more like chopping vegetables.

  Slice straight down, she willed the magic.

  At first, she couldn’t see anything happening. But then she noticed a thin line appear on either side of the wall where it was separating from the rest of the palace. Her green knives worked slowly but steadily.

  The floor panel on the far side of the courtyard opened. Empress Aki stuck
out her head. “Everything all right?”

  “It is now,” Sora said. “You can come out from the tunnel, although you should probably stay on that side of the courtyard, just in case.”

  Empress Aki and her Imperial Guards emerged. One of them noticed Sora was injured. “I’ll get her some bandages,” he said.

  He returned a few minutes later and dressed her wounds. Sora breathed into his touch. It was actually helpful to have someone else with her, grounding her as she focused intensely on the saws.

  She began again. The wall trembled, and the Ora crest glinted in the faint light of the impending sunrise.

  The saws neared the bottom. Sora’s eyes began to cross; the concentration was taxing.

  And then, the last, final slice.

  She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a moment. Then she turned to Empress Aki. “Your Majesty, we have our magnifying glass.”

  “Excellent. Can you get it down to the Citadel?”

  Sora was tired, but she nodded. There would be time for rest later. “I’ll use magic to levitate it down the hill.”

  Empress Aki looked up at the purpling sky to gauge the time. “You go on ahead. I just need to do one thing here at the palace. I want to go to Sola’s temple to pray.”

  “But—”

  “Don’t worry. I have some Imperial Guards with me, and I’ll leave by way of the secret tunnels again. You need to get to the Citadel, though. It’s imperative that you arrive before my brother’s army does, if you are to have them all in one place at the fortress gates to blind them.”

  Sora didn’t like the idea of leaving the empress behind. But she was the sovereign, which meant Sora didn’t really have a choice. Besides, Empress Aki’s reasoning made sense, and she did have a contingent of Imperial Guards, the best warriors in the kingdom.

  “All right, Your Majesty. Be safe. I’ll see you back at the Citadel soon.”

  Chapter Sixty-Four

  Fairy slipped into Bullfrog’s room the same way Broomstick had—through the window. She’d stopped by the dormitory to grab vials of wood-ear mushroom powder and swallow’s saliva, which could be combined to form an antidote to genka. Unfortunately, she didn’t have much wood ear; her old stash was in the satchel she’d given to Spirit, and Fairy hadn’t had time since to forage for more.

  I hope what I have is enough to wake Daemon.

  As soon as she was inside Bullfrog’s quarters, she found her way to the bedroom and slid open the closet door.

  “Oh, Wolfie,” she said, as she saw him slumped in a heap on top of the spare bedding. It was a little sad to see him like this, a ferocious, wild animal from the woods reduced to a grinning fool with spit dribbling down his chin.

  It was almost the same as what had happened to her. Fairy may not be an orphan raised by wolves, but she was pretty formidable too. And she’d also been completely disarmed, a trophy for the Dragon Prince to carry victoriously in his arms.

  “I understand sacrifices must be made for the greater good, but let’s not do it like this,” she said, partly to herself, partly to Wolf. “Idle drooling really doesn’t suit the League of Rogues.”

  Quickly, she poured the wood-ear powder into an empty vial, then used a dropper to add half an ounce of swallow’s saliva. The concoction let off a noxious brown cloud that stunk of steaming-hot cow dung.

  Fairy wrinkled her nose as she carried it over to the closet. “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to drink this.”

  He kept snoring quietly.

  She turned him onto his back and tried to pry open his lips with her free hand. “Wolf. Open your mouth.”

  “Mm mm mmmm.” He kept his lips firmly pursed.

  Fairy swirled the vial of wood ear and swallow’s spit. Its odor had shifted from fresh dung to fertilizer now. Slightly mellower, but still awful.

  “I don’t have the patience for this. Sorry. Again.” She kicked Wolf hard in the side, and he opened his mouth as if yelping, although no sound came out. She poured the contents of the vial onto his tongue. Then she smacked her hand over his mouth so he couldn’t spit it out.

  He struggled but finally swallowed. She removed her hand from his mouth.

  Wolf’s voice came back to him, a bit muddled, and he started singing nonsense. “Ba dij do, Ba dij pa-kow . . .”

  “Come on, come on, come on,” Fairy said. “Please work.” She looked at her completely empty vial of wood ear, but even if it was enough to counteract the genka, there was still a chance it wouldn’t work. After all, Spirit had been the one who was actually injected with genka.

  Suddenly, Wolf gasped. He blinked. Then he looked up and smiled groggily.

  “It’s really unfair that you’re so damnably handsome, even when you’re drugged,” Fairy said. “You’re lucky I have a great deal of restraint.”

  He laughed, but it came out a bit sluggishly. “You made me a genka antidote.”

  “You’re very observant.”

  “And you’re awake. The rira wore off.”

  “Again, very observant. It would’ve been hard for me to make you an antidote if I was in a coma.”

  He sighed. “Glad you’re okay. You were so brave . . . at the bluff.” His eyelids fluttered shut. “Still sleepy. Miss the sparkly green dragons.”

  “No.” Fairy shook him. “If you fall back asleep, I swear to the gods, I will kiss you against your wishes.”

  “I should definitely fall asleep then.”

  Fairy’s heart skittered, like a hound’s at the start of a foxhunt. Was he actually flirting back? Wolf never did that. He always shrugged aside her comments as if they were jokes.

  She looked at his lips. They were very kissable. And then she remembered the day this past summer, when she’d seen him stepping out of one of the deep soaking tubs in the bathhouse (yes, she’d been in the towel closet with a conquest, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed to look at other boys too). The water had beaded on Wolf’s broad shoulders and dripped off the planes of his chest down to where the towel was wrapped around his waist . . .

  Stop it. He’s your roommate’s gemina, she told herself.

  “Come on,” Fairy said, pulling Wolf to his feet. She retrieved another small glass vial from her belt, took his hand, and poured a small handful of what looked like little brown rocks into his palm. “Here, eat these.”

  He wobbled while trying to stand. “What are they?”

  “Cocoa nibs. Highly caffeinated.”

  “Ah.” Wolf popped them into his mouth. The nibs would hopefully counteract the last of the genka’s effects.

  He shook his head at the bitterness and blinked a few times, eyes bright and clear. Then he tilted his head as he looked down at Fairy.

  She wrinkled her nose. “What are you staring at?”

  “You’re alive. You’re awake.”

  Fairy waved him off. “We already went over this.”

  But he kept staring. “I worried . . . we worried that you might not have survived. I wanted to believe that you were safe, but we just didn’t know. And over the past few days, I couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of you in my arms in the desert, the life in you like a flame, and I . . .”

  A silent hum began to build in the air between them, the kind of subtle vibration that only the two people involved can perceive. The thrill of the start of a foxhunt flitted through Fairy’s chest again.

  “You what?” she prompted.

  “I . . .” Wolf shook his head as if dissuading himself from speaking. But then he looked at her again and said, “Your hair is still gold.” He reached a tentative hand out, as if he wanted to touch it.

  She held her breath.

  “You were ready to give your life for the empress,” he said, hand still hovering just a fraction of an inch away from her hair. “You could have died. You almost did. I’ve always known you were bold, but that . . . Fairy, I’m in awe of you.”

  His fingers found a stray lock of hair. They grazed her cheek as he pinned it back into place.<
br />
  Fairy’s entire body vibrated at his touch. She looked at his mouth again. He was definitely awake now. She could kiss him, feel his tongue on hers, press herself against that glorious chest she’d seen in the bathhouse.

  She met his gaze and raised her eyebrows, just a little, as if asking permission.

  He nodded, dipped his head, and parted his lips.

  His mouth was warm and soft at first. Gentle, as if he didn’t want to hurt her.

  But Fairy was no fragile thing. She pressed her lips against Wolf’s, showing him what they could do. Her tongue found its way to his—hot and fluid.

  And then Wolf let himself go, threading his hands through her hair and pulling her to him, smashing their mouths and bodies together. It was like he’d been released from a cage, his wanting fueled even more by his relief that she was alive.

  Fairy smiled as she pressed herself harder into him and wondered why she’d never thought to do this with him. It’s not like Spirit cared. She and Wolf were like Fairy and Broomstick—together since childhood, like siblings.

  Wolf’s hands began to trail down Fairy’s neck, along the collar of her tunic. He was just about to slip them beneath the fabric when she gasped and pulled away. “No.”

  He startled and backed away. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s all right. I mean, I wanted it. But we can’t right now.” Fairy hastily pulled her disheveled hair back into the semblance of neatness. “The ryuu are coming. We have to help.”

  Wolf cursed at himself under his breath. “How could I forget? I’m so selfish.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re just human.”

  He sighed.

  “We’ll finish this later. I promise,” Fairy said. “Come on, we’re meeting everyone at the main gates. I’ll fill you in on the way there.”

  She held out her hand.

  Wolf took it.

  Chapter Sixty-Five

  Broomstick found Glass Lady in the armory. She was pacing through the weapons racks, taking inventory of what they had at their disposal.

  “Commander,” he said, jogging to keep up with her long stride. “Can I speak with you?”