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The lanterns, the light—they confirmed what I’d suspected all along.

He’d loved Vanna. That was why he’d never left Sundau. That was why he had stayed.

“Let their spirits be together at last,” Oshli said to me quietly, giving back a wooden box that I recognized. Inside were Raikama’s ashes, as well as the tokens my brothers and I had placed within to accompany her journey to the gods.

The red thread I’d tied around it was still there, its color dulled by time and sun. Seeing it, I felt my heart swell with emotion. I had sent the box all the way from Kiata, certain I would never see it again. Now here I was—halfway across Lor’yan, in Raikama’s birthplace—reuniting her with her sister, and her home.

Even after death, Raikama’s fate and my own were knotted.

“You are her daughter,” said Oshli, “and a sorceress in your own right. It is time to undo the curse that was set upon the sisters, and right the wrongs cast upon their souls.”

He departed before I could speak with him again, and I sank my knees into the flower beds. My brothers surrounded me, bowing their long necks in turn.

They want to give you a moment alone, Kiki said, sitting on my arm. We’ll finish patching up the basket, and torment some local birds until they agree to come with us.

I gave a wordless nod.

She touched my cheek with her head, then flitted off.

When I was alone, I set the box on the earth, among the gently swaying moon orchids. Using Raikama’s spear, I dug a small hollow and buried the box inside.

I bowed low, pressing my forehead to the earth. When my stepmother lay dying, I hadn’t had time to forgive her for all she had done. I had barely understood the sacrifices she had made for my family. Our family.

“I wish I could ask for your forgiveness,” I whispered to the earth, believing that, somehow, Raikama could hear. “And I wish I could forgive you in return. I wish I knew more than a sliver of your story.” The words burned in my throat, and I punished myself by swallowing. “I’ll always miss you.”

The smell of orchids flooded my nose. Raindrops shimmered on the white petals, and I plucked the loveliest blossom and laid it over Raikama’s ashes. “May your spirit find peace, Stepmother,” I said. “Whether you choose to stay here, among your snakes, or find your way to heaven.”

I bowed once again. Then, as I rose, dusting my sleeves, seven paper birds rustled out of the flower beds. The very same ones I had enclosed in Raikama’s box to accompany her to wherever she took her final rest.

They took flight, circling me as I stood.

They’re coming with you, spoke Ujal, camouflaged among the orchids. She slithered into view. What task did Channari set upon you, that she should watch over you even after death?

Was she truly watching over me?

I started to answer, but my jaw fell agape when I realized Kiki wasn’t here. No one was translating. “How…how am I understanding you?”

The tongue of snakes is understood by those we regard as kin, Ujal replied. My father shared with Channari an unbreakable bond. He was to her what your bird is to you. In a way, we are family—you are her daughter, I am his. But I couldn’t trust you until I understood why you carry that accursed gem at your side. Ujal’s sulfurous eyes fell on my satchel. The heart that cursed the Golden One, who cursed Channari in turn.

Ujal was speaking of Khramelan’s pearl.

“She asked that I return it to its true owner,” I replied. “That was her last request.”

Its true owner…Ujal let out a long, angry-sounding hiss. Is that what she called the demon?

Half demon, I corrected in my head, but I wisely left it unsaid.

Ujal’s tail snaked around Raikama’s spear, her scales turning red and black to match its dried blood. You asked about the demon she fought. My father warned her not to trust him, but she thought he was her friend. That was her one mistake.

She spat her next words. In the end, he betrayed her.

I’d already suspected, but now…I finally confirmed the truth.

“The Wraith,” I whispered. “He was the demon that killed Vanna.”

Yes, needlessly. Channi had sworn to give the pearl to him when her sister passed naturally. But that agreement was broken when he killed her, so the pearl doomed him to his current fate. Ujal paused. He won’t be happy to see you, Shiori’anma. Far from it.

“But a promise is a promise,” I said softly. “Not a kiss in the wind, to be thrown about without care. It is a piece of yourself that is given away and will not return until your pledge is fulfilled.”