bringing him back to health. And then they’d spent years training in the Shinowana mountains, fumbling with this new magic, bruising themselves while sparring, and finally, mastering it.
This was what all that time and effort was for. To bring Kichona and its people a glorious, immortal paradise.
Gin turned his attention back to the assembling crowd in the square. Taking away their free will is a necessary sacrifice. The Ceremony of Two Hundred Hearts is part of the process. It’s for the ultimate good of the kingdom.
“I’ve spent a decade dreaming of coming home,” Gin said. “You’re my kin. I missed you deeply.” He smiled.
A little girl in the front row shrieked. “His face is so ugly!” She buried herself in the folds of her mother’s skirt.
The woman flushed and took several steps backward, all while wrapping the fabric of her skirt around her daughter, as if doing so could make her disappear. “I-I’m sorry, Your Highness. She’s only three. She doesn’t know what she’s saying.”
Gin clenched his fists. But he didn’t respond. The girl—and everyone else—would love him soon enough.
Now, in fact.
Emerald-green particles whooshed through the air, falling like snow on the people’s heads. A moment later, they smiled drowsily.
Gin glared at them. “As I was saying, I’ve been looking forward to coming home. You missed me too, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” the crowd answered in chorus. Their eyes twinkled with the kind of blissful peace only Gin’s enchantment could give them.
Perhaps free will was overrated.
“I’m here to bring eternal paradise to Kichona,” Gin said. “But I need your help. Are you willing?”
“Whatever you require, Your Highness,” the villagers said.
“Good. My sister has been empress for a while, but I intend to take the crown from her, so that I may lead you to glory and everything our kingdom deserves. There will be a coronation, and I would like to invite citizens from throughout Kichona. Is anyone interested?”
“Me!”
“Over here!”
“Your Highness, pick me, pick me!”
The crowd erupted in clamoring chaos.
Gin motioned for Virtuoso, one of the most reliable of his original warriors, to come over. “You know what to do, right?”
She nodded. “Two hundred slots that need to be filled. Ages one to one hundred, a male and female each.”
“We don’t need to find all of them here. We’ll make plenty more stops before the Imperial City as we amass our army. But go ahead and choose some here.”
Virtuoso nodded and began shouting at the people for order. The other taigas jumped in to herd them into lines to submit their names.
Gin turned his back on the square. He strode away, pushing through the curtains of flowering vines to the outskirts of town, where his warriors’ horses waited. Even from here, he could still hear the people shouting over each other as they argued for the honor of going to his coronation. For the privilege of sacrificing their lives for Zomuri.
Another little shudder of nausea rippled through Gin.
But this time, the guilt was smaller, and it passed quickly. Because after a lifetime of dreaming and ten years of planning in exile, everything was starting to come together. Gin had the makings of a magical army that no one would be able to defeat. He’d begun collecting Hearts.
And the fantasy of the Evermore was within reach.
Chapter Sixteen
Fairy and Broomstick pushed their way through the streets of Shima. Obnoxious, sweaty hawkers stood on the narrow sidewalks, each shouting louder than the previous one that their gambling hall had the most honest dealers, the greatest odds of winning, and the cheapest tobacco and beer. In every alley, crowds of people huddled in circles, exchanging bets and watching roosters screech and fight in a mess of blood and feathers. And pretty girls with too much makeup hung on the arms of men strolling through the tawdry city.
Usually, taigas liked to dress in street clothes when they were on leave. Kichonans respected taigas immensely, because the gods interacted with humans in only two situations—when they blessed babies as taigas, and when they were summoned by an emperor and empress. Thus, people bowed at the taigas’ feet and called them “Your Honor” wherever they went, and it wasn’t unusual for small children to run up and ask taigas—even apprentices—for their autograph. It was hard to blend in and enjoy a brief leave from school or duties when wearing a black uniform.
But there were other occasions when a Society uniform was needed. Going into Shima was one of those times. Fairy had worn a red dress here on her first