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My paper birds flew over the demonfire, out of my assailants’ reach, as small as the sparks spitting forth from the flames. Before anyone noticed they were there, they flew off.

My beating was done, and now two of the cultists were dragging me to the Tears of Emuri’en. Soon twigs snapped against my broken bones, and someone propped me against a sword staked into the pit. I was so weak I immediately slid and toppled onto my side.

No one helped me up.

The priests and priestesses chanted over me. They spoke in Old Kiatan, praying that my ashes would announce the birth of a new era, that the demons would never be free. None of it was novel to me, and I tuned out their sanctimonious words, listening instead to the earth below me.

It was still. Silent.

Hurry, I thought to my birds. Please.

Heat scorched my back, and the flames crackled as I pressed my cheek to the dirt. I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. But I held on—I couldn’t let go of the thread that tied me to the paper birds. Not before they delivered my message.

Finally, the ground trembled. Harder than before. And this time, it didn’t stop.

A few of the priestesses stumbled. Their chants faltered. As they regained their balance, they tossed fistfuls of ashes into the air and resumed chanting, faster.

The demonfire grew higher, hotter. It rose from the earth in a tall wall, and as it closed in on me, my sweat simmered. Wood dissolved into ash under my ankles, and the flames crackled against my flesh. I had seconds at best. It took all my willpower not to panic, to hold in my screams and breathe as the demonfire leapt to devour me.

“Shiori!” cried a voice from above. “Shiori!”

I was so delirious that at first I thought it was the demons. I tipped my head back and squinted through the smoke.

Takkan and Hasho! They were in the sky, riding astride the backs of eagles and swans and a whole motley of birds I couldn’t see—with Kiki! They hung above me, a gasp above the towering flames.

Takkan’s bow was in his hands, aimed downward. I heard the stretch and twang of a string. Three whooshes, one after another. Through the flames I didn’t even see the arrows fly.

One by one, the priests and priestesses fell. Knees sank in the mud, and fingers curled into the earth. The ones who lived kept chanting even as they tumbled forward.

The demonfire roared. The window above me closed, the black hearts of the flames writhing around to devour me. But the seconds that Takkan and Hasho bought were enough.

The air turned cold first. Then a dark veil was cast over the sun, choking out its sickly light. Shadows swept over the earth. All around me, the flames shrank into embers, and the forest went dark.

Only the breach glowed. Its fervent red light pulsed brighter and fanned across the forest, searching. When at last it fell upon me, the ground gave a tumultuous shudder.

The demons were here.

Demons tore through the breach and swarmed the forest. Radiating scarlet light, they were nightmares incarnate, stitched of man, beast, and monster. The more humanlike ones were attired in pale, ghostly armor, while others wore only the hides of beasts: fur, feathers, or scales.

Red-eyed monsters descended upon the priests and priestesses, ending their lives before they even had a chance to scream. A flash of fangs, a hiss of smoke, then, like a flame, they were snuffed out. All that was left was their white robes.

As the wind swept away their remains, Takkan rushed to my side. I could only imagine how I appeared, wilted and broken like that last moon orchid in the Tears of Emuri’en. Ever so tenderly, he lifted me onto his lap.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said, holding my fingers.

“Don’t lie. You’re not good at it.”

“It really isn’t so bad, sister,” Hasho chimed in, an even worse liar than Takkan. I wished I could tell him so, but pain spasmed through every point in my body, and I bit down on my lip.

Hasho’s smile disappeared, and Takkan gritted his teeth like a man intent on cracking a tooth. He brushed the hair from my eyes, his fingertips gliding over my temples. “Don’t let go, Shiori,” he said. “Fight.”

I was fighting—and losing. I could hardly feel the welts on my back or the broken ribs on my side. My body was going cold.

Takkan must have noticed me shivering, for he pressed his body to mine and murmured something to Hasho, who immediately threw me his cloak and started rubbing my fingers.

But it was no use. I could feel the life ebbing out of me. I was dying.

I didn’t even notice the demons arrive—until Takkan lifted his head, and Hasho reached for his short sword.