when the future of the kingdom was at stake. Taiga warriors took sides, and a brief but vicious civil war was fought. Prince Gin’s taigas battled cruelly in their attempted coup, decapitating soldiers and leaving their heads on spikes, gutting them alive, and forcing them to watch the murder of their friends.
But perhaps the most barbaric part of the Blood Rift—and what Sora remembered most vividly—was Prince Gin’s warriors setting the Citadel on fire. The inferno burned down many buildings, including the nursery, where Sora’s little sister and others perished.
The terror of that night shivered through Sora now.
Daemon reached through their gemina bond to soothe her, projecting the sensation of a placid lake. As the “leader” of the enemy, he was off to the side of the courtyard, but he could still sense Sora’s unease through their connection. It was as if he were saying, Remember, this is pretend. It’s only an exhibition.
Sora swallowed hard. Right. This wasn’t real.
Besides, Sora thought, if Empress Aki has no problem with the Level 12s commemorating the Blood Rift victory every year, then I should be able to deal with it. After all, the empress had had to battle against her own brother. That could not be an easy memory to bear.
Sora curled the fourth fingers on both hands so that they touched her thumbs and formed circles. “Sight like an owl,” she chanted softly three times.
The rims of Sora’s eyes tingled, and her vision sharpened just as Daemon and the other apprentices—“Prince Gin’s warriors”—began to creep out of the darkness in front of her. On the other side of the courtyard, they did the same to Fairy.
Sora crouched into a defensive stance, throwing stars already poised at her fingertips.
Prince Gin’s soldiers attacked, shouting, “For the future emperor!”
Sora unleashed a flurry of stars at the enemy. Two of them ducked, and one fell, feigning death.
Another wave of them came at her. She hurled more stars and darts, and then some more.
Sora spun away from an oncoming soldier, then threw a star behind her back at her attacker. It met the base of his skull. He stumbled, then fell as if dead.
She reached for another star. Her fingers ran over the band across her chest, but all she touched was leather. “Crow’s eye!” she swore, as if surprised. “I’m out.”
She unsheathed her daggers, one in each hand.
Prince Gin’s soldiers fanned out in front of her, Daemon included. He leered as he turned his sword in his palm. “There are many dangers lurking in the night,” he said. His voice oozed. “A pretty girl like you ought to stay tucked in bed if she wants to remain safe.”
“I would say the same of you,” Sora quipped, “except you aren’t the least bit pretty.”
He laughed, falling out of character for just a second. Then he yelled, “Get her!”
The soldiers hurtled toward Sora, swords raised. She wouldn’t have time to use magic—it required the sacrifice of setting weapons aside in order to form mudras with her hands—but she could still take out two or three of the soldiers. Four, perhaps. Sora smiled as she flexed her fingers around her blades.
The knife in her right hand slashed the throat of the first soldier. The knife in her left plunged into the side of the second. She had the right one ready to fly as a third soldier came streaking through the air. It hit him in the chest before he landed on the ground. Thump.
Fairy fought her way to Sora’s side.
“What took you so long?” Sora yelled over the clashing of blade against blade.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Fairy said, sneaking in a sardonic curtsy as she avoided an incoming throwing star. “I was hosting a tea party for our visitors on the other side of the battlefield and we got rather carried away. Was I supposed to be here sooner?”
Sora smiled. In the next breath, she sliced a soldier’s throat.
The narrator began to speak. “The Blood Rift was a tragedy. Many lives were lost.”
Bodies littered the ground. Sora and Fairy pivoted in the center of the courtyard, backs to each other, weapons at the ready for any other enemy that dared approach.
“But after a long night,” the narrator said, “Princess Aki’s taigas prevailed. The prince was fatally wounded, and his warriors took his body as they fled the kingdom, never to be heard from again.”
Daemon and the apprentices who played the remnants of Prince Gin’s army dropped their weapons and ran to the back of the courtyard, as if boarding