Six Crimson Cranes, page 12
What was going on?
“Perhaps we are asking too much of you, Shiori,” said Andahai slowly. “Weaving the net will be painful; it will cause you much agony. I would not wish to multiply your burden.”
I sprang to my feet. My burden? I gestured wildly. Every morning, your bodies are ripped apart as you turn into cranes. I had watched Hasho try to hold in a scream as Raikama’s enchantment consumed him. I had seen Yotan’s face blanch as the colors of dawn began to paint the sky.
And me? For all my complaining, all I had to do was wear a silly bowl on my head and hold in my voice.
My curse was easy compared to theirs, and I would gladly take on any burden if it gave them relief.
“Let’s wait until tomorrow,” said Hasho. “We aren’t in any rush to break the curse.”
Not in any rush? My head jerked up, certain that was a lie. I glowered at Hasho. My youngest brother used to be the one who kept my secrets. What was he concealing now?
Reiji spoke up, his nostrils flaring. “We need to tell her. It’d be wrong for us to leave for Mount Rayuna without her knowing.”
“Reiji,” Andahai cautioned. “We agreed—”
“You forced us to agree. She has to know.”
I grabbed Hasho’s arm. Tell me.
Hasho’s eyes were trained on the ground, not a good sign. “We…,” he stumbled, “we told you that we need to weaken Raikama with a dragon net and t-take her pearl to break the curse.”
Yes. I was growing impatient. Yes, I know all this already.
“We haven’t told you what to do once you have the pearl,” said Andahai, his narrow face becoming tired and drawn.
Now he had my attention.
“You must hold it in your hands,” he said slowly, “and speak our stepmother’s true name.”
Her true name? I furrowed my brow. That was easy enough. I could simply ask Father once we returned to the palace with the net.
Realization dawned. I had to speak her name.
I couldn’t break their curse if I couldn’t speak. So long as this wretched bowl rested on my head, any word I uttered would bring death.
The air squeezed out of my lungs. One of them would have to die.
I stabbed my dagger into the mud, staggered by the cruelty of Raikama’s curse.
“If it comes to that, all of us are willing to take the risk,” Benkai said quickly. “Aren’t we, Brothers?”
I’m not! I shouted by shaking my fists. I shot to my feet, only to sink to the ground once more. I’m not.
“Now isn’t the time to despair, Shiori,” said Yotan, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. But even his eyes, which so often danced with merriment, looked resigned.
Thinking to cheer me up with food, he passed the remainder of last night’s stew to me, but I only stirred the bowl numbly.
“The six of us will gather what information we can about her name,” said Andahai, taking my silence as a cue to move on. “You focus on crafting the net. In the spring, we will fly to Gindara again and break our stepmother’s enchantment.”
In the spring? I blinked, scraping the end of my spoon into the mud.
Will we be ready by then?
“We have no choice,” said Benkai grimly. “We are at war, Shiori. With A’landi.”
The words thudded in my ears. At war?
“Father has no more heirs now that we are missing, and Raikama has no child of her own. The khagan of A’landi’s northern states has declared Kiata’s throne ripe for the taking, and he has been bribing some of our most powerful allies to turn on Father. Father’s called all the great lords to Gindara to repledge their fealty.”
I glanced at my younger brothers, all solemn-faced. Only yesterday we had been hugging each other with joy. How quickly that joy had been replaced with a cold and terrible dread.
No one would betray him. All the houses are loyal.
Benkai’s expression did not inspire confidence. “Greed is a great motivator,” he said thinly, “and there’s talk of the khagan having an enchanter.”
“He’s called the Wolf,” Andahai said, and I started, recognizing the name. “You’ve heard of him?”
Only from a letter I found. It must have been intended for the khagan.
I wrote what I could remember, except the words I hadn’t been able to translate. “Do you know who it was from?”
I shook my head with regret, imagining now it must have been from the lord who had betrayed Father. I dipped into my stew and ate a spoonful, swallowing hard. Tell me about the Wolf, I mouthed.
“Master Tsring warned us about him,” said Andahai. “The Wolf was his student before he revealed his true nature. He is treacherous and cruel, and very clever.”
But why come here? He would have no magic if he stepped into Kiata.
“One doesn’t need magic to be dangerous, Shiori,” Benkai replied. “A reputation is all it takes to spread fear. And fear is a mighty weapon.”
“Or,” said Wandei slowly, “perhaps the seams that keep magic from Kiata are fraying. The gods have been silent for centuries. It could be they’ve decided it is time for magic to return to Kiata. Look at our stepmother—and you.”
I felt immediately ill. My fingers stiffened around my spoon, and I set down my stew. I had lost my appetite.
“Don’t worry yet,” said Hasho, trying hard to comfort me. “If luck is on our side, A’landi’s states will fight among themselves, and the khagan will forget about us. At the very least, winter will give Father more time to prepare.”
And me time to break our curse, I thought.
If anyone was a seer, perhaps it had been Mama—for naming me Shiori, meaning “knot.” A symbol that I was the last of her seven children, the one who would bring my brothers together, no matter how fate conspired to pull us apart.
We were seven, and seven was a number of strength. An uneven number that could not fold unto itself, large enough to withstand many threats, yet small enough to stay devoted.
I looped the satchel’s strap over my shoulder and looked each of my brothers squarely in the eye.
Whatever it took to stop Raikama and break the spells she’d cast upon us, I would do it. Even if it took months or years, even if I incurred the gods’ wrath and made enemies of the dragons.
Take me to Mount Rayuna.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The next day, we left for Mount Rayuna.
With Kiki securely tucked inside my sleeve, I clung to the edges of the wooden basket Wandei had designed for transporting me. It was more secure than holding on to their necks, but my stomach still swooped whenever we dipped through the clouds.
Four of my brothers bit ropes attached to the basket, while one flew ahead to navigate, and one stayed in the back to keep watch. We were so high that the rivers looked like ribbons and the mountains like wrinkles across the earth.
Along the way, my brothers told me all they had learned of starstroke and the dragons that kept it, with Kiki translating. Dragons had not always been omens of good fortune, nor had they always been infrequent visitors to land. They were mercurial and violent, often indulging in their power to wreak chaos in the seas. Worst of all, they had answered to no one—not even the gods.
To temper their strength, the gods forged starstroke from a trio of magics: strands of fate from the goddess Emuri’en’s hair; the blood of stars from Lapzur, the source of an enchanter’s power; and demonfire scoured from the Tambu Isles, birthplace of demons.
As starstroke grew wild all over Lor’yan, the dragons retreated into the sea, hiding there until the gods pleaded for their help in divesting Kiata of magic and sealing the demons within the Holy Mountains. In exchange for their help, the Dragon King demanded that the starstroke be contained to the summit of Mount Rayuna. There, he kept a watchful eye out for any who might try to steal it.
Thieves, such as my brothers and me. By the Eternal Courts, I prayed that we were so insignificant—six cranes and a magicless girl—that he would not notice us.
There! I cried, pointing ahead. I see it.
Steam curled from Mount Rayuna’s summit, as thick as the clouds. Molten rivers hissed, streaming down like liquid gold, and powerful winds gusted, forcing my brothers to drop me off lower on the mountain.
I scanned the summit, taking inventory of the glimmering bushes of starstroke. There had to be hundreds, if not thousands, studding the mountaintop. I would have to work quickly and finish before dusk—before my brothers turned back into men. Mount Rayuna was not a place I wished to be stranded.
Hasho approached. The black edges on his wings were the thickest, like broad strokes of ink under the fold of his snow-touched feathers. His eyes were most like mine even when he was a crane. Brown with flecks of amber.
He says that if at any time you change your mind, Shiori, to tell me. Kiki glanced down at Mount Rayuna, askance, before she relayed the rest of Hasho’s message. I’ll find your brothers, and they’ll take you home.
I shook my head. I wouldn’t change my mind.
He also wants to know if you want one of them to stay with you.
Here on Mount Rayuna, where wild magic grew rampant, I did not dare have anyone accompany me to fetch the nettles. Certainly not my brothers.
I shook my head firmly and passed Kiki to Hasho. If a paper bird could have scowled, she would have. She flittered back onto my shoulder, hissing, I’m coming too.
But—
I’m a paper crane, Shiori, not a real one. If something happens, you can fold me back to life again.
Not without my magic, I wanted to reply, but I nodded to avoid frightening her. I let my satchel fall to my hip, its presence strangely comforting as I embarked up the mountain.
It wasn’t a hard climb, though the ashes made the trek slippery. Often I kicked against objects too brittle to be stones, too hollow to be branches. I prayed they weren’t bones.
I was halfway to the summit when the ground shook, and I stumbled against a rock pillar.
Emuri’en’s strands! Kiki gasped. That wasn’t the Dragon King, was it?
Just a quake. I braced myself until the tremor passed. I think.
Kiki beat her wings faster, narrowly evading a spurt of lava from one of the rocks. All this fire is going to scorch my tail! What was I thinking, coming with you? Hurry up, Shiori. I don’t want to stay here a minute longer than we have to.
It wasn’t hard to find the nettles. Their leaves, silvery green with dark red veins, were spiked, and their thorns were as sharp as teeth. They grew in clumps scattered around the summit of Mount Rayuna, their thick stems glowing with demonfire and swaying to gales of blistering wind. That they could survive in such conditions, let alone thrive, reminded me that these were no ordinary nettles.
I approached the first bush with caution. From afar, the nettles looked no brighter than the molten streams sizzling down the mountainside. But the closer I drew, the more intensely the starstroke glowed. A wash of heat prickled my face, and I used my bowl as a shield. Even then, my eyes watered.
Your brothers said you don’t have to go through with this, Kiki reminded me. I can tell them if you—
It’s not so bad, I lied, mustering a smile. Just like slicing a thousand onions.
In spite of my bad joke and brave words, I bristled with fear. I could feel my heart jumping in my chest, a sharp pain throbbing so hard it hurt to breathe.
It was the tiny fragment of Seryu’s pearl, glinting under my collar for the first time—a warning not to go any farther.
It’s repelled by the starstroke, I realized.
Can it help us? Kiki asked, sneaking into my thoughts.
No, I couldn’t access its magic while I was cursed, but I didn’t need to. If being near starstroke made my tiny pearl ache, I grinned just thinking of what it would do to Raikama.
Wrapping my satchel’s strap around my hand, I reached for my dagger and hacked at the nettles.
The blade might as well have been cutting at stone. Not a nettle fell. Not even a leaf.
Frustrated and out of breath, I staggered back. Even with the strap covering my skin, my hand hurt as if pricked by a thousand fiery needles. I balled my fist, trying to keep in the rising pain.
Kiki circled me frantically. Shiori, Shiori! Are you hurt?
No. I sucked in a breath, unwrapping my hand as I approached the bush of starstroke again. I think I have to pull them out by hand.
By hand? No, Shiori, that’ll—
I wasn’t listening to Kiki’s warning. Fear is just a game, I repeated to myself, over and over. You win by playing.
I yanked the nearest stalk.
A scream boiled inside me, nearly surging out of my lungs. I bit down on my tongue, throttling up the sound inside me. My vision swam, and as blood gushed through my teeth, all I could see was six lifeless swans on the beach.
When I finally caught my breath, my face was wet with tears. I’d hurt myself plenty of times working in Mrs. Dainan’s kitchen, but the pain of touching starstroke was like nothing I had ever felt before. The jagged leaves cut into my skin like knives, and the thorns—the thorns were like stabs of fire.
But it worked. Thin silvery roots, like spiderwebs, burst from the earth. I threw the plant, roots and all, into my satchel.
The burning eased as soon as I let go of the starstroke. I clenched my fist, then opened it, looking at my palm, raw with scorch marks.
Enough, Shiori, Kiki pleaded. You’ll die if you keep this up.
It’ll be easier the next time, I assured her, even though I knew that was a lie.
Pain didn’t get easier. I just had to get stronger.
I ripped off my sleeve and crammed it into my mouth. My voice had shriveled up inside my throat, unused for months, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Any sound would condemn my brothers.
I ignored Kiki’s protests and attacked the second patch of nettles. I pulled at a larger bunch this time, using both hands to rip the roots from the earth. I’d need hundreds to weave a net that could capture Raikama’s pearl.
Every time I tore one of the nettles, I thought of my father, my brothers, my country. I pictured Father torn apart with grief, unable to trust anyone around him, convinced that one of the warlords had captured his children, when it was really the person he trusted most—Raikama.
I couldn’t let Raikama win.
Eventually Kiki stopped telling me to give up and instead reminded me to rest. I had to, even if I didn’t want to. Too many times, I lurched to the side to retch from pain or to cradle my blood-streaked hands.
I stuffed the nettles inside my satchel. I had probably gathered enough fill over a dozen, but the enchanter hadn’t misled us about the satchel’s endless depths.
Crawling away from the bushes, I blew on my hands. The pearl still throbbed in my chest, but I was nearly finished.
“Shiori!”
I stilled. I would have recognized that voice anywhere. But no, it couldn’t be.
“Shiori,” Seryu rumbled. “What are you doing on Mount Rayuna?”
Now I turned, searching among the nettles.
“Behind you. In the water.”
Kiki flittered before the pool, which bubbled with heat and spurted every few minutes with small geysers.
I could not see Seryu, but our minds touched, his words buzzing in my ear as if he were next to me.
“You must leave this place,” he said. “Get out now.”
I can’t. Go away, Seryu. Unless you’re here to help.
“Help with what—why are you here?”
She’s been cursed, Kiki cut in.
“Cursed?” the dragon exclaimed. “What—”
I can’t tell you, I interrupted. She’ll kill my brothers if I do.
“Who will? Your stepmother? She cannot punish you for your thoughts, Shiori. What is this curse?”
Raikama turned her brothers into cranes, Kiki burbled, and the only way to break her spell is to—
I closed Kiki’s beak with my fingers. That’s enough. I’ll tell him the rest. I swallowed hard, knowing my friend wouldn’t like what I was about to say next.
It’s to weave a dragon net.
I could feel Seryu tense. “So you have come for starstroke.” His voice was strained. “Just what dragon are you trying to ensnare?”
Not a dragon. My stepmother. She has a dragon pearl.
“A dragon pearl!” Seryu repeated. “That’s impossible. No human possesses a dragon pearl.”
You gave me a part of yours.
“Only a sliver. Even then, it was a tremendous risk. No dragon would give more, not without Grandfather’s blessing. It would have to be stolen.” He paused deliberately, as if to remind me of my surroundings. “And you are the first mortal in centuries to venture here.”
He made a low growl I was glad I couldn’t see. “You’d better leave. If my grandfather senses someone stealing starstroke, he will be furious. I’ll try to distract him, but it might be too late. You must go. Now.”
I scrambled to my feet. Wait, Seryu. When will I see you again?
“When the tides are highest, my dragon magic is at its peak. Stop by the nearest river after the next full moon and call for me. I’ll come to you then. Now hurry and leave this place.” A hint of fear edged his voice. “My grandfather’s wrath is no trivial thing.”
Once he vanished, a deafening crack lashed the sky.
Then the mountain roared.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Fires leapt up, steam hissing from the ground. The earth shuddered, and like insects, the black rocks began to scatter and swarm down and down, taking me with them.
