“Did you know,” he said, “they used to play drums to scare off demons?”
I pulled back my shoulders and straightened. “If you’ve come for me, I’m not afraid.”
“Your trembling voice gives you away, Maia Tamarin,” Bandur purred. “I only wish to have a word with you.” The demon took on Sendo’s visage, and my brother smiled at me in the mirror. “Perhaps this will help.”
“Leave my brother out of this,” I spat.
Bandur laughed, and his features rearranged themselves into his usual form. “You surprised me, Maia Tamarin. Edan’s soul was a great prize, but you, the tailor who summoned Amana to life—you might be more valuable yet.”
“If you’ve come to take me to Lapzur, then do it.” I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails bit into my palms. “Or have you not the strength to cross this far from your realm?”
Bandur floated in the glass, his flat, obsidian eyes that bled ash and death gazing at me. “I don’t need to take you to Lapzur.” His hand pierced the mirror, and I staggered back. “You will come of your own volition.”
“I’ll never go back to that treacherous place,” I snapped. “Never.”
“We shall see,” Bandur said with a laugh. “Now that your beloved enchanter is free, he cannot protect you from me. In due time, you’ll beg to take my place as guardian of Lapzur.”
His certainty prickled my stomach with dread. “You’re delusional, demon.”
“Am I?” he rasped. “If you had been a mere girl, your fate would have been easier. I would have spread your bones across the earth so your soul would wander restless. But no, Edan was right. You are no mere girl. So now, the price you pay must be higher. Amana warned you of this.”
My knees should have shaken, and my stomach should have clenched, but I felt nothing. I looked at him defiantly. “I’m not afraid.”
“Then it has already begun,” said Bandur. “Demons do not feel fear.”
The cold surging in my chest rioted, and I let out a suffocated gasp. “No. No.”
“Yes, with every second, you become more like me. Soon the drums will only remind you of the heart you once had. Every beat you miss, every chill that touches you is a sign of the darkness folding over you. One day, it will take you away from all that you know and cherish: your memories, your face, your name. Not even your enchanter will love you when you wake as a demon.”
“No!” I shouted, pounding my fist against the mirror. “What you say isn’t true.”
Bandur caught my wrist, his black nails scraping against my skin. “Be happy, Maia. It will not last.”
Then he was gone.
Slowly, I crumpled to the ground. Bandur had to be lying. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true.
I wanted to weep, but no tears would fall. And no matter how I tried to summon fear, I could not. Deep down I knew Bandur was right. There was a crack in my soul, a new hollow where shadows seeped in and folded over my heart. Soon it would shatter me, and I’d become like him. A demon.
“I am Maia Tamarin,” I told the mirror. “Daughter of Kalsang and Liling Tamarin, sister of Finlei and Sendo and Keton.” I swallowed. “Lover of Edan.” I said this over and over, remembering the faces of my parents and brothers and Edan, remembering my childhood by the ocean and my love for silk and colors and light. I remembered what I had lost, and what I had gained, and the pain of Edan’s leaving without knowing I’d deceived him. Finally, the tears came, choking me with emotion as I rocked myself back and forth.
I missed Baba and Keton so much. So, so much.
Be happy, Bandur had taunted me. It will not last.
How could I be happy without my family? I’d thought coming to the palace would save Baba and his shop, but I’d been so wrong. And now, without Edan—
Suddenly I remembered Edan’s gift and his words: It’ll bring some happiness back to your family.
I rubbed my eyes and dug furiously in my trunk for the last walnut Edan had given me. When I found it, I clenched it in my fist, clinging to its warmth.
I would not let Bandur take my soul. Not without a fight.
I needed to see light in Baba’s eyes again, to see Keton walk again. I needed to remember what it was like to be happy. If only for one