more taigas. We have to poison everyone here, and soon.”
“We really have to kill everyone?” Daemon asked.
Sora felt his unease keenly, not only because it coursed through their gemina bond like milk gone sour, but also because she wasn’t convinced that killing everyone was necessary either. Or at least she didn’t want to do it.
She kept focusing on her breaths as she rethought her plan. She opened Fairy’s pouch and looked through the vials. Then she saw a tiny transparent packet fastened to the inside of the leather flap. Sora gasped. It was kagi powder.
“What if we use this?” she asked, showing the fine white powder to Daemon. “It’s ground kagi leaves, which cause the equivalent of very vicious food poisoning. They’ll retch to the point of passing out.”
Daemon nodded as he processed what she was suggesting. “It’ll debilitate the ryuu long enough for us to isolate and kill Prince Gin. Maybe, without a leader, the rest of the ryuu will stop their advance through Kichona.”
“Exactly.”
However, poisoning the meal wouldn’t be easy. There were people in the galley, cooking. Sora and Daemon would have to distract them, or hope that there was a moment before dinnertime when the food was left unguarded.
They climbed up a level to where the galley was located and slinked in between crates of vegetables and drums of oranges until they were close to the kitchen. From what she could see through the galley door, there were three ryuu recruits in there, likely relegated to dinner duty because they were the lowest rungs of the ladder.
“Keep watch,” Sora said to Daemon. “Remember, if one of us is captured, save yourself.”
He hesitated.
“It’s the only way,” she said.
He shook his head. “No. We won’t get caught.”
Sora sighed. “And you say I’m the stubborn one.”
He shrugged and positioned himself at the ladder in case any other ryuu decided to make an appearance.
Sora crept a little farther through the food stocks, as close as possible to the galley door without being exposed. She reached into the pouch in her sleeve and confirmed that the small square of paper, folded like an envelope, was there. The kagi powder would blend into whatever it was that was bubbling on the stove.
She also checked that her pink disk of rira was easily accessible. It was the poison that Fairy had given her in case she was captured. Daemon had one on him too.
Sora stalled. Both she and Daemon were 100 percent nerves, and their gemina bond was as taut as a tightrope.
We were blessed by Luna to do this, she reminded herself. And we have trained our entire lives to protect Kichona. It didn’t make her any less nervous, but it was enough to push her forward with her plan.
One of the ryuu was tasting what was in the pot. Another was pulling trays of roasted mackerel out of the oven. The third put a vat of pickled radish on the small counter.
“I think this is done,” the one at the pot said. “Let’s ring the meal bell.”
Oh no, Sora thought. If they rang the bell, the deck would be swarming with ryuu before she could get to the pot.
She had to disable the bell. But it hung right outside the galley door, which meant she risked exposure even running to it, let alone trying to tinker with it while the ryuu were a foot away.
It was a risk she had to take.
Sora glanced at Daemon on the other side of the deck to signal what she was going to do. He shook his head and raised his arms up in confusion. Her pantomiming hadn’t made any sense.
Never mind that. She had only seconds to get this done. Sora darted to the bell.
She pressed herself flat against the wall of the galley and wrapped her fingers around the cold brass clapper dangling inside the bell. But how would she dampen it? She couldn’t yank the thing out; it was connected by a metal ring.
I might’ve acted a little hastily.
She let go of the bell for a moment and retrieved a knife from her sleeve. Then she sliced off the cuff of that sleeve and began to wrap the fabric around the brass clapper.
A spike of panic, like the prick of a cold stiletto blade, pierced her gemina bond.
At the same time, someone cleared her throat behind Sora. “What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”
Sora jumped.
She recognized that acid-tinged voice. It was Virtuoso, the girl who’d been training the recruits.
“I’m, um, fixing the bell,”