lump of lead in Sora’s gut.
The other cloaked figure rode up beside Prince Gin. “May I say a few words?”
It was a girl’s voice. A little raspy, but definitely a girl.
“Before we enter our next target,” the cloaked ryuu said, “let me remind you that we are embarking on a course of action that will not only bring glory upon each and every one of you but also usher Kichona into a new age. Too long have the abilities granted to us by the gods lay dormant. Taigas shouldn’t just be police; we can be so much more than that. And with our new power, we’ll unleash our potential. We will make Prince Gin emperor, and we will build a new kingdom worthy of the people of Kichona and the gods.”
“Huzzah!” the soldiers shouted, as they stamped their feet.
Fear shivered through Sora’s veins.
But then, as she remembered what the prince had done to Hana, what he’d done to the Society, anger blazed through her like flames on an oil-soaked wick. Her grip on Daemon’s shoulder tightened like a vise. “The Dragon Prince as emperor?” Sora whispered. “He staged a coup, murdered taigas, and tried to kill his sister. He’ll be emperor over my dead body.”
“Well, like I said before, I’d rather we didn’t die quite yet,” Daemon said.
“Good, because I don’t plan on him becoming emperor, ever,” Sora said, grabbing Daemon’s hand and pulling him into the woods. “Come on. We’re going to beat them into Kaede City to warn the taigas and transmit the information to the Council and Empress Aki. They need to know that, without a doubt, the Dragon Prince is back.”
Chapter Twenty
The market was in full swing as Sora and Daemon entered Kaede City, looking for the taigas’ command post. The open-stall market covered several square blocks in the center of town, and it was a cacophony of activity as housekeepers, kitchen maids, and page boys hurried around, running errands.
A butcher unloaded fresh cuts of beef to display at his stall. A hawker shouted about the hot noodle soup he had for the afternoon special. And a fishmonger huffed by with crates laden with mackerel and ice, shoving past a page who was in his way.
Daemon walked up to a stall selling silk scarves and hair combs carved from abalone shells to ask for directions to the taigas’ post. The girl who worked there wore a heavy quilted coat that looked as if it had been made from every color of fabric ever invented. She had an equal rainbow of ribbons tied through the braids in her hair.
“Good afternoon,” she said in a south Kichonan accent, one that lilted softly like the ripples of a lake. “Are you looking for a gift for your girlfriend?” She tilted her chin at Sora.
“I’m not his girlfriend,” Sora said brusquely.
Her quick response was like a little stab in Daemon’s chest. But he smiled through it.
“I’m sorry,” the girl said, casting her eyes downward in a manner that was demure yet slightly flirtatious at the same time. “I just assumed.”
He cleared his throat. “Right. Well, um, I was actually wondering if you could direct us toward the Society of Taigas’ command center here?”
The girl’s mouth twisted a little in confusion. Then Daemon remembered he was in civilian clothes, that hideous turquoise-and-coral shirt again. After the Paro Village incident, he and Sora had decided to switch to “normal” clothes so it wouldn’t be obvious that they were taigas. But that made it so this girl didn’t understand why he’d need to find the Society post.
He laughed as if embarrassed. “I’m just coming through Kaede City, and I heard there was a taiga outpost here. I’ve always wanted to see a real live taiga in person.”
She smiled then. “Boys. My little brother is obsessed with the taigas too. But I didn’t expect it of you. You’re so . . . strapping. And handsome.” She twirled one of her ribboned braids around her finger.
Daemon could feel Sora’s amusement through their gemina bond, the hop and skip of a smirk.
“Er, thank you,” he said, tracing the tines of a comb decorated with tiny seashells that looked like lemon drops so he wouldn’t have to watch the girl ogling him. “Do you know where the Society’s post is?”
She nodded eagerly. “By the harbor. There’s a tall wooden building, all black. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you,” Daemon said.
“Anytime,” the girl said. “What are you doing tonight? I finish work at four o’clock. . . .”
“I, um,