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The mirror pushed through the window. And there were my six brothers.

They were so close, so vivid, I could see the threads on their silk hats, the tea stains on Wandei’s collar, and the wax shining in Yotan’s hair—cut to the latest fashion, as suited him. I wanted to reach out and touch them, to call their names. But my brothers were gathered around a bed, and once I saw whom they were watching, all I could do was hold my breath.

Father.

Spring had come, and as Raikama had promised, the spell of slumber she had cast over Gindara had lifted. The city was awakening, and my father with it.

“Look!” Yotan whispered, pointing. “He’s waking.”

Dawn slipped through the latticed window, imbuing the emperor with splendid patterns of light. He blinked, his eyes slowly fluttering open.

Joy and homesickness tugged at my heart, pulling my emotions in opposite directions. How I wished I could be there to see Father. To be there with my brothers when he awoke.

I bit my cheek, trying to hold myself strong. Trying not to fixate on the months I’d lost while in Ai’long. At least my family was well. My father, my brothers…

“What of Takkan?” I whispered to the mirror.

At the question, the glass flickered again. The vision of the emperor and princes vanished, and the mirror turned its focus from the palace on the Sacred Lake to deep in the woods. Fire ravaged the forests, racing through the trees and leaving the nearby villages smoldering.

Then came the Holy Mountains. I recognized them straightaway, but there was something different about the mountain in the center.

Its face bore a jagged scar that hadn’t been there before. As the mirror brought me closer, a wisp of smoke stole out of the scarlet rock. And my heart went still.

In one breath, the wisp unfurled into a creature I had prayed I’d never see again.

The Wolf.

He sprang forth, his misty gray coat more shadow than fur, his blood-red eyes as fiery as the scarred rock that had borne him. The Holy Mountains trembled.

Bandur, rasped the demons within, in a fearsome chorus. King of Demons.

The name latched on to my thoughts like a ghost. I’d never heard it before, yet it chilled me. Bandur.

“No!” I whispered. That was impossible. Bandur couldn’t be free. My stepmother and I had sealed the mountains!

The mirror would show me no more. It cracked and cleaved into shards again, but the tiny fish did not return to take them away. Instead, the shards drifted aimlessly around the chamber.

I was so shaken by what I’d seen, I barely noticed that Nahma had returned. Kiki, I can’t go through with this. I have to go home. I—

I stopped, my thoughts cut off by an invisible string.

If you wish to ever see your home again, Nahma’s voice pushed into my mind, then you must go to the ceremony.

I gasped, shocked by her words as well as by what she’d done. “You…you—”

I was born able to sense thoughts. Nahma let go of my arm. Under the veil of her long black bangs, her eyes turned white, dark pupils disappearing. It helped me win the selection rites, and gain the trust of even Lady Solzaya. She sees much through the mirror of hers, but it cannot read the mind or heart. She will assume I am telling you of my experiences as a companion.

I met her gaze. So this is what you meant when you said you weren’t really human.

Nahma’s eyes were cold. I was unwanted, like your stepmother. When my parents learned of my magic, they threw me into the sea, to the dragons. On land, magic is feared. Here, it is revered.

I swallowed hard, wondering what my father would think once he learned of my own talents. How will going to the ceremony help me find my way home?

I’ve heard you are a resourceful girl, Nahma replied. You’ll find a way. She tossed me a peach. Eat. Your power is weakened here, but even a bite will replenish some strength.

I rolled the peach in my hand, still skeptical that it might be poisoned. In Kiatan legend, peaches were the fruit of the gods, and one particular tree in their gardens bestowed immortality.

I can try first, if you want, Kiki offered. I don’t mind living forever.