me a bag. Inside were crackers and dried fruits and jerky. A feast.
Edan jumped onto his camel and picked up his book again. The shadows blooming under his eyes were darker than before, and his irises were paler than I’d ever seen them—almost gray. “Don’t finish it all,” he said, waving his book at me. “We still have four days until we reach Agoria.”
Agoria, where the Mountains of the Moon awaited, and where Keton had fought the shansen’s men during the Five Winters’ War. Where Sendo had died.
“The shansen’s men and the emperor’s army came to a standstill in the Mountains of the Moon,” Keton had told me when he returned home. “I was there. Arrows got me, and Sendo dragged me to safety. There were bodies everywhere, scattered over the mountain. By the end of the night, thousands were killed. Including Sendo.”
I chewed and swallowed, suddenly losing my appetite. Tightening the drawstring on the bag, I turned away to gather myself. Edan was still reading on his camel.
“Where’s the walnut?” I asked as I tapped Milk to kneel and mounted.
Edan replied, “I’ll retain it for safekeeping, if you don’t mind.”
“Have any tailors sewn with sunlight before?”
“Not that I know of,” said Edan, removing his hood. His black curls glistened with sand. Sand, and sweat, I noticed with a frown.
“Sewing with magic is a rare gift,” he said. “Rarer still in the hands of a talented tailor such as you. Between friends, I will admit Lady Sarnai has set you up for failure, but I have faith you can make the dresses. I’ll help you any way I can.”
I raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said we weren’t friends.”
“We weren’t. But enchanters are fickle.” He offered me a small grin. “I might have changed my mind.”
I felt a rush of warmth. If not for Edan, I would not have known where to begin. Even though we bickered, he was the only friend I had out here. Maybe anywhere, to be honest.
“Your father was not able to wield the scissors, was he?” Edan asked.
“No. He said they were my grandmother’s.”
He leaned close, as if he were studying a fragile specimen. “Odd.” He touched my chin. “Enchanters don’t usually leave descendants.”
I didn’t know why the comment made me blush. Or why his touch, so quick and gentle it was practically nothing, sent a rush of tingles trilling over my skin. I pulled back, hoping my embarrassment didn’t show. “I don’t know much about my ancestors.”
“Never mind that,” Edan said, letting a comfortable distance settle between us again. “You have three tasks: to acquire the sun, the moon, and the stars for Amana’s dresses. These tasks translate into three trials: one of the body, one of the mind, one of the soul. Sunlight was a trial of the body. How much suffering you could endure.”
I stroked my cheeks, still sticky with salve, but my skin wasn’t so raw anymore. “You’re only telling me this now?”
“I didn’t want you to be afraid.” He inhaled. “The hardest will be the last.”
“The blood of stars?” When he nodded, I pressed, “What can you tell me?”
“I don’t know exactly what you’ll have to face,” he admitted. “What I do know is when. Once a year, the stars open up to the mortal world.”
I knew the tale. “On the ninth day of the ninth month, the goddess of the moon is reunited with her husband, the god of the sun. Only for this one night each year can they be together. They walk toward each other on a starlit path, a bridge the god of thieves must hold up on his shoulders as punishment for once stealing the stars. When their time has passed, the bridge collapses and the stars, wrought with their pain from being apart, bleed into the night.”
“Yes,” Edan drawled. “Rather romantic, isn’t it?”
I frowned. The ninth day of the ninth month. That was forty days away. And Lake Paduan was on the other side of the continent.
“I thought it was just a legend.”
“All legends have a spark of truth. Sometimes more than a spark.” Edan shielded his face from the sun. “You should start making the shoes. Having something to do will help you recover faster. Be sure to—”
“Make them watertight,” I finished. After weeks of slowly burning to death, I couldn’t even imagine needing to protect myself against water.
“You remember.” Edan turned away and dabbed at his temples. “Good.”
I finished my jerky and licked every crumb off my fingers. My pants