Page 69 of Cloak of Night
Fairy had promised to share how to undo the damning of souls if they discovered it. But that was dependent on them not only finding it but also surviving long enough to get the information to Hana. And what if Hana did join them? Emperor Gin would crush them. Why did her sister and her friends find it so appealing to die for the losing side of history?
If Hana stayed with the ryuu, however, there was a chance she would live long enough to see the Evermore. Then the damnation would be moot.
Of course, there was the possibility that in the many forthcoming years of war with the mainland, Hana would be killed. And in death, she’d be trapped in the hells forever.
She tore at her hair as she stomped through the Citadel. The other ryuu who saw the storm clouds in her expression darted out of her way.
What to do?
The best way to handle this, Hana thought,is to lie low for now.Continue fighting for Emperor Gin, because maybe he was right and this would all be worth it. But she’d keep an eye on Sora and her friends, in case they figured outhow to undo the ryuu’s damnation.
And what about how to feel?
“The best thing to feel right now,” Hana said quietly to herself, “is nothing.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sora had used ryuu magic to carry Broomstick out of Naimo Ice Caves, but as soon as they emerged from the caverns, he’d woken up, and she didn’t have the heart to knock him out again. Plus, she realized she couldn’t keep up the effort of using magic to carry him all the way to Paro Village.
Unfortunately, he was still convinced it would be better for Kichona—and all the kingdoms on the mainland—if he remained buried deep inside the Lake of Nightmares. So Sora had tied him up with invisible rope and laid him across his horse’s saddle, carried like a prisoner. Undignified but necessary. And maybe the bouncing of the horse would jolt the rest of the water out of his lungs, if that was, in fact, what was ailing him. That wouldn’t be a bad thing. Sora’s most immediate priority was fixing Broomstick. But she also had to get them back to the Imperial City soon. The soul pearl in her pocket needed to be reunited with Prince Gin.
Late the next day, they reached Paro Village. Eventhough she’d been here before, it still struck her as such an oddity. The little hamlet was so deeply buried in dense forest that Sora wondered how sunlight managed to reach it. Thick curtains of flowering vines draped heavily everywhere—around the perimeter of town, in between the shops and homes, even in the middle of its main street. The thick perfume and dampness of foliage weighted the air, and it took a little more effort than normal to breathe.
She released the rope that bound Broomstick. It was too far for him to run back to the ice caves now.
Sora really didn’t want to go into the village, though. After seeing her parents, she and Broomstick had avoided people. If she’d had her choice, they would have headed straight to Jade Forest. But Broomstick needed a place to recover, and hopefully her messenger had gotten to Daemon and Fairy, and they’d be on their way with Liga soon.
“Let’s skip the village and go around to the Society of Taigas outpost,” she said. “There will be beds there and maybe food, if those feral little kids didn’t eat it all.”
“Feral kids?” Broomstick asked. He hated and feared himself, but otherwise he still functioned normally. The key, Sora thought, was to keep conversations away from Prince Gin and Zomuri.
Not an easy task, given the circumstances.
Still, she took what she could get in the moment. “When Daemon and I were here last time, a bunch of children had overtaken the outpost, playing at being taigas. They pelted us with acorns and rocks. I’m kind of looking forward to seeing the Little Ferals again.”
Broomstick’s smile vanished.
She understood immediately. He was worried what hemight do to the kids, how he might accidentally charm them, then hurt them.
Sora had another worry, though: the possibility that the kids had been tainted by Zomuri, too.
They pushed through the final curtain of flowers and emerged into a clearing.
“Where’s the Society outpost?” Broomstick asked, confused that there was nothing but trampled undergrowth and mossy boulders in front of them.
“Look up,” Sora said.
He craned his neck upward. “Daggers,” he said. The Society post was a sprawling black structure with black thatched roofs that spanned across half a dozen trees, camouflaged into the shadows of the thick canopy of leaves. Octagonal platforms were interspersed through branches around the tree house, places where taiga warriors could hide and launch weapons in case of attack. And then there were the non-fighting elements of the post, like the hammocks swinging between boughs and the sundeck overlooking a small lake behind the treehouse. Paro Village may have been one of the most remote outposts in the kingdom, but it would not be a bad place to serve the Society.
Twenty or so tiny smudged faces popped up around the tree house, in windows, doorways, and even from the thatched roof.
“Hey-o, fierce taigas of Kichona!” Sora shouted. “We are weary warriors from the north, come to see the great fort of Paro Village. Will you allow us to enter your fortress?” Her phrasing was a bit stilted, but from her prior experience with the children here, they liked playacting. Sorathought the theatrical formality might predispose them to liking her better, instead of pelting her like they had before. Broomstick hung back and watched, keeping himself out of the way.
A girl, about ten years old, stepped forward. Her hair stood in every direction, and it was tangled with branches. Little Feral, indeed.
“Why should we let you in?” she said.
“Are you the commander?” Sora asked, continuing to play their game.
