“Someone get help!”

Their shouts faded into the background, and all I could see was Qinnia, trying to loosen my collar so I could breathe. Black smoke swirled in my eyes, and as the breath fled my lungs, a shadow enshrouded her. Her skin turned ashen, her pupils blood-red.

“Welcome back, Shiori,” Bandur spoke through Qinnia’s rose-painted lips. “You haven’t forgotten me, have you?”

“How…how are you here?” I choked. “In…in Qinnia?”

“You don’t remember?” Qinnia picked up a handful of red dates. The movement was languid, and my heart gave a lurch when she crushed them in her fist.

Juice ran through her fingers like blood, in thin meandering streams. “Your blood freed me. I am not chained to the mountains, as the others are. I’ve been here. Watching you.”

My eyes rounded in horror.

Qinnia’s face warped into a horrible mockery of a smile. “Why so upset? You ought to thank me for my help while you were away. Nine priestesses of the Holy Mountains committed themselves to Lord Sharima’en, thanks to me. Three walked into fire, two into the sea, and the other four…well, they felt an urge to taste the end of a dagger.” He licked his lips. “Couldn’t have them burning you to ashes. Your blood is too precious for that.”

“Get out of Qinnia,” I whispered. “Leave her alone.”

“Her face bothers you?” Bandur pretended to pout. “Who would you prefer I inhabit? I could be anyone you know. One of your servants, your father. Even your beloved Takkan.”

Enough was enough. I launched myself at Qinnia, aiming for her eyes.

Thank the great gods, she screamed. Andahai shoved her away from me an instant before I would have stabbed her.

Shadows snuffed the lantern lights, and Bandur’s laugh ricocheted off the walls. Save your energy, Shiori. Do you mean to kill the crown prince’s wife? It is she who would die, not me.

In horror, I staggered back, and my world tilted. I was on the ground. Hasho was trying to force something through my mouth. I bit down on my lip, refusing to drink. I didn’t trust anyone anymore, not even him.

Stop fighting, said Bandur. Your brother is trying to save you.

His advice only made me bite down harder.

You think I poisoned you? He laughed. Only an imbecile would kill you while you are bonded to the Wraith’s pearl. Though I must tell you, I’m relieved that you kept it from the Dragon King. Bandur’s shadow swept over me, flickering across the streak of white in my hair as he purred, I was worried I wouldn’t get my chance with it.

“Never,” I seethed.

Nazayun failed because he didn’t provide you with the right…enticements. Bandur’s voice found my ear. I will not make that error. Patience is a demon’s virtue, not a dragon’s.

One of my brothers was pinching my nose, and as I struggled, warm liquid dribbled down my throat. Almost instantly, the bitterness in my mouth dissolved.

Yes, that’s it…. Breathe. Bandur inhaled, mocking my gasping breaths. There, there.

The world began to clear, and my brothers and Takkan hovered worriedly over me. Qinnia had retreated to the far wall.

Coils of smoke drifted out of her eyes—smoke, it seemed, that only I could see. As it evaporated into the distance, I could still hear Bandur. Enjoy your time at home, Shiori. Don’t let anyone kill you before I do.

In a puff, he vanished, and Qinnia let out a violent shudder before collapsing in her chair.

“I’m fine,” she said when Andahai rushed to her side. Her eyes were cloudy, and from the glazed way she smiled, I doubted she knew what had happened. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “Help Shiori.”

Takkan was pressing his fingers to my pulse, and he perched me on my chair. “That’s it, Shiori. Breathe. Slowly.”

As I inhaled, Hasho placed a small bottle into my grasp. “It’s from Raikama,” he told me. “Drink more if you’re still feeling unwell.”

Raikama?

“She left it for us,” my brother explained, seeing that it comforted me to hear of her. “It’s an antidote for most poisons. She must have expected that we’d need it.”

I finally stopped biting my lip. Even in death, my stepmother had saved me.