said. “And you have a right to be. But I love you, Maia.”
I swallowed. How unfair it was, that our time together was so short. That soon I would never see him again.
“I love you, too,” I whispered, touching his cheek. It hurt to speak any more loudly—my voice was hoarse with emotion. “And I’ll have you. The sun and moon only see each other one day out of the entire year. Even if it’s an hour or a day—I’d rather be with you for that time than not at all.”
A light brightened Edan’s face. He didn’t smile, yet somehow he looked happier than in all the months I’d known him. “May I kiss you?” he whispered.
“You may.”
He touched my chin, tilting it up, but I was already on my toes. My mouth drifted forward, my eyes half closed.
Edan laughed softly. “Eager, aren’t we? Then you shouldn’t have denied me so long.”
Slowly, he traced his fingers down my neck to my collarbone. His touch made me shiver, and my skin tingled as he traced back up my neck and around my lips. Then, when I was about to protest that he was tormenting me, he lifted me up.
I crushed my mouth against his, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his hips. His kisses moved to my cheeks, my neck, my breasts, back to my lips. Passionate, then tender. Then passionate again, as if we couldn’t make up our minds. As if we knew our lips would be bruised tomorrow, but we would laugh about it.
It was so easy to forget—and I felt myself slipping into the illusion that everything was fine.
I pushed his hair out of his eyes and cupped his chin. “Let me come to Lake Paduan with you.”
Edan was still catching his breath.
“There has to be a way to defeat Bandur,” I said slowly. “That amulet he wears—I took it from him when I was on the Thief’s Tower, and that seemed to weaken him. Maybe if we can destroy it, you’ll be free of him.”
“A demon’s amulet is already broken,” Edan said. He pressed my back against the wall. “Destroying it won’t kill Bandur, nor will it weaken him.”
“But I saw—”
Edan put two fingers to my lips. “Bandur is cunning,” he said. “He wanted to trick you into thinking he had a weakness so you would let down your guard—then he could mark you.”
I fell silent, knowing that he was right. “I’m still coming with you. My mind is made up.”
Edan sighed. “Maia, you know the isles abound with ghosts and demons. Even if you were safe from them, I won’t be the same.”
“Do you think I care?”
“You should,” he said darkly. “I’ll be a demon.”
“Then I’ll become one too. A ghost, demon—whatever the isles want of me. You don’t have to be alone.”
“That is the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” said Edan sharply. “And I beg you never to repeat it.”
My shoulders started to slump, but I straightened. “My scissors are from Amana,” I said fiercely. “They’re from the legend of the god of thieves. Did you know that?”
“I suspected—”
“That means I’m part legend myself,” I said over him. “Maybe even part enchanter. There is magic in me, so let me help you.”
Edan pressed his lips tightly together. “There’s no arguing with you, is there?”
“I’m the brightest one, remember? You said so yourself.”
He laughed and kissed me again, ever so tenderly. Then he held me—as he had when we lived under the invisible morning stars—until the day washed into night.
I knew then that we were like two pieces of cloth, sewn together for life. Our stitches couldn’t be undone.
I wouldn’t let them.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
We arrived within sight of the Autumn Palace five days before the red sun. I didn’t want to count the days until Edan surrendered himself to Bandur, but I couldn’t help it. Too frequently I glanced up at the sky, watching the red slowly bleeding into the sun’s crown. Only at night, when darkness swallowed the sun, could I put it out of my mind.
I could feel the magic rippling in the fibers of my dresses—more and more now, as they approached completion. Maybe I imagined it, but sometimes when the walnuts carrying the light of the moon and sun were nearby, the dresses sang to me. It was a soft, quiet song—like the hum of a peaceful brook. Edan couldn’t hear it, but the song beckoned to me, as if imploring me to