Prince Gin straightened his robes, as if what had just happened to him was no big deal. Then he unsheathed a sword and rammed it straight through his own middle.

Sora gasped.

He twisted the blade through his organs, then withdrew it. The sword dripped with blood.

But Prince Gin was still standing. He pushed aside the fabric at his stomach. The gaping wound healed before his eyes, the blood and flesh reabsorbed into his body, the skin smoothing without a scar.

“Excellent,” he said before sitting back on his throne. He cast his sword to the floor and smiled smugly.

Sora’s knees nearly buckled beneath her. There went her hope of assassinating the Dragon Prince tonight and putting a quick end to this. As long as Zomuri had the soul, they wouldn’t be able to kill Prince Gin or stop him from turning all of Kichona into a mindless game of war.

“There must be a way to fight back,” she whispered.

“He’s invincible,” Daemon said. “It’s over.”

Chapter Ten

Sora and Daemon stepped into the chestnut grove in Jade Forest.

Cold, sharp steel immediately pressed to their throats. “Don’t move.”

Nines, Sora swore to herself as she stilled. The ryuu had found them.

“We don’t have anything valuable on us,” Sora said, in case the knife at her throat belonged to a thief.

“Oh, thank the gods, it’s you,” Fairy said. She dropped the blade.

Sora exhaled. Thank the gods indeed.

“Sorry it took us so long,” Daemon said as he rubbed his neck where Broomstick’s knife had pressed.

“Yeah,” Sora said. “Daemon had to carry me on his back both ways so I could keep us invisible. I slowed him down.”

“You can make other people invisible?” Broomstick asked. “Why didn’t you do that to us while we were crossing the Field of Illusions or when Fairy and I were in the Citadel?”

“It takes a lot of concentration for me to cast that kind of magic on someone else,” Sora said. “I needed my wits to cross the shifting sand, and I couldn’t think that hard while also making all four of us invisible. Maybe with more practice, I’ll be able to.”

They settled beneath the dense canopy of the chestnut trees. Fairy handed out thick, woolen cloaks—she and Broomstick had had the foresight to grab fresh clothes, sleeping mats, weapons, and food for everyone—and they huddled together around a campfire.

“I assume, since we’re all here and the mood isn’t celebratory, that none of us managed to find the empress or kill Prince Gin?” Broomstick asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Damn,” Fairy mumbled. She proceeded to tell them about Mariko’s murder.

Everyone was silent as that sank in.

“Mariko was always so nice to us,” Daemon said. “She shouldn’t have been at risk. She wasn’t a soldier, just an ordinary person trying to do her job.”