I met his glare with a frown. “My ancestors trapped the demons to keep Kiata safe.”
“And for their lifetimes it worked.” He growled. “Humans are selfish and shortsighted. But consider this: when the demons finally break free, they will be wrathful. They will inflict a thousand years’ worth of vengeance upon your land. Ask yourself then whether your ancestors made the right choice.”
His rancor took me aback, and I drew an uneasy breath. “You sympathize with them.”
“Of course I do. I am half demon,” he said. “My kind is not without feeling, and I can feel my brothers in Kiata. They are in anguish. In pain.”
So much for hoping Khramelan might use the pearl to seal the Holy Mountains once more.
I took a step back, wary of his wings and how easy it would be for him to knock me off the cliff into the sea. “I’m sorry for all that my ancestors have done,” I said, meaning it. “But if what you say is true, I cannot let them be free.”
“Then why should I free your brothers, when you will not free mine?”
It was a good question, and I swallowed. “I don’t know if I can answer that,” I replied honestly. “Except that you know what it’s like to be cursed, to be trapped between worlds.”
“I know what it’s like to be alone,” Khramelan said. “Your brothers will have each other.”
“You had Channari,” I said softly. “Her last wish was for me to return your pearl. She didn’t hate you in the end.”
The words undid his wrath, and for the first time, he folded his wings to his sides, allowing the sun to drench him completely.
Gathering my courage, I nudged the pearl toward him. “Please,” I said softly.
He stared at his reflection in the pearl’s dark surface—even in the sun, its fractured light spangled his pupils, as if they’d reaped a net full of stars. Then his shoulders heaved, and he let out a fearsome growl.
“You asked for my help, Princess. Pray you don’t regret it.”
With no more warning than that, he threw Takkan and me over his wing once more and blasted up into the clouds.
I more than regretted asking Khramelan for help. As he swerved away from the ocean and wheeled over the heart of Kiata, my stomach made a hard swoop of fear.
“Stop!” I shouted, desperate to get Khramelan’s attention. “Stop! People will see you!”
I didn’t know whether he heard me, but it couldn’t have been a coincidence that he immediately did the opposite, dipping lower and picking up speed. Now, as we tore past village after village, I could hear the screams.
No one had spied a demon in a thousand years, and I could only imagine the terror and panic this hulking nightmare with wings wide enough to block the sun would instill.
“This wasn’t what I meant by helping,” I said to Khramelan. “Enough! Enough!”
This is what you get for trusting a demon, Kiki screeched from behind. Hurry and jump on your brothers’ backs before the lunatic drops you from the sky.
Even if I had wanted to, I couldn’t. My brothers couldn’t match his speed, and no one could predict where he would go next. He swerved and swooped every other second, as if encouraged by the shrieks that followed.
Please let this be a nightmare, I thought. Maybe the demons got me on Lapzur, and I’m still asleep. On second thought, I wasn’t sure I’d prefer that.
What I was sure of was that half of all Kiata had seen Khramelan by the time he came upon the Holy Mountains. There, he finally slowed.
As he hovered, ignoring the legion of armed and alarmed soldiers by the breach, I could feel the wind change. Rubble spilled down the mountainside, and the forest trees juddered. I couldn’t tell whether the demons inside were reacting to me or to Khramelan.
“Do you hear them?” Khramelan asked me, breaking his silence. “DO YOU HEAR THEM?”
Shiori…, the demons whispered. Release us….
“Yes, I hear them!” I shouted. “Now, will you stop?”
Father’s soldiers spared Khramelan from answering. Spears shot up at his wings, one or two bouncing against his knuckles and nearly impaling Takkan and me—praise the great gods for Khramelan’s thick skin. He spiraled away until the weapons could barely touch him. Arrows came next, barraging the clouds, arcing and falling like dying stars.
Khramelan sped across the forest and over the palace. Home washed by, a blur of blue-tiled roofs, vermilion gates, and lush gardens speckled with pink-blossomed trees. I didn’t want to think about how I was going to explain Khramelan’s joyride to Father.