There was nothing I could say that would convince him. I recognized the dogged glint in his eye, the set of his jaw. He would make his own mistakes, just as I had.

“All legends have a spark of truth” was all I could manage. “Sometimes more than a spark. Don’t forget who you are along the way to becoming one. A legend, that is.”

“Thank you, Aunt Shiori. I won’t.”

In spite of his flippant tone, Gen plodded toward the boat.

“What is it?” I asked.

His long black bangs fell over his eyes, and he became suddenly pensive. “The price of an enchanter’s oath is one only a few are willing to pay. I had six brothers too, like you, once. They didn’t care about me half as much as yours care for you, but if they were still alive…I wonder whether I’d seek a quiet life too.”

He sounded so old. Then again, he had already seen more than most would see in ten lifetimes.

I nudged him. “Come on, let’s get you to the boat.”

Gen wasn’t finished. “War is a terrible thing,” he murmured. “Maybe even worse than demons. I pray you will find a way to save Kiata from both.”

“I pray so too.”

Together, we approached the lakeside where my brothers and Takkan waited. Gen made his farewells to each of them, then paused before wishing me goodbye. “Teach me that sleeping spell before I go. Cast it on me.”

“Now?”

“If I can’t prove that I was in Ai’long, some dragon magic will have to do.” He shrugged. “Besides, I loathe boats, and I can’t swim much. I’d rather be asleep anyway.”

“It’s an easy one,” I said, recalling Seryu’s instructions. “All you do is touch someone on the forehead and think sleepy thoughts.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, the dragon said it also helps if the spell’s not expected.”

Gen sniffed. “I guess it isn’t going to work on me, then. Maybe you should try lat—”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. My hand shot out to tap his forehead. As his heels rocked backward, Takkan caught him neatly and carried him aboard the ship.

I didn’t follow. My feet were rooted in place, anchored by the sudden heaviness in my chest. First Raikama, then Seryu, now Gen. I’d said too many farewells of late, and each was a weight on my heartstrings.

“You look sadder than the boy,” Takkan observed as he returned from the ship.

If he’d only waited a moment longer, I would have collected myself. But when I turned to him, my eyes were swollen from holding back tears.

My words came out raw, soundless. Stay with me.

Takkan immediately understood. He slipped an arm around my shoulders and held me close. “I’m not leaving you. I promise.”

I knew he believed it. Emuri’en’s strands of fate bound us, after all. Threads that transcended time and place, knotting us from one life to the next.

But threads could be cut, and the threads of fate were no exception.

For what was chaos but a knife slashing across the fabric of destiny?

Twilight crept over the Holy Mountains. The moon was a crown faint against the coal-black sky, but the breach glowed a deep, visceral red. A stark reminder that the Demon King was inside, waiting for me.

Father had spread the rumor that I was being secretly exiled to Iro, and I’d left the palace unannounced, with all my brothers pretending to see me off. So far, no one we encountered had questioned where we were really going. But someone must have noticed that we never made it to the roads and had veered instead toward the forests.

I crouched in front of a pine tree, my fingers anxiously pressing into the moist dirt while my brothers went over our plan one last time. As the fastest, Benkai would climb to the eye of the breach and extract the amulet. I’d summon Bandur, then turn my brothers into cranes, and we’d fly to Lapzur.

My brothers sounded as matter-of-fact as cooks steaming the daily barrel of rice. As if nothing could go wrong.