“No,” Han prompted, stage-whispering in Clan. “You don’t fool me. You are the wicked Demon King in disguise.”

Mechanically, Raisa launched into the Dance of Refusal. Han pursued her around the clearing, sometimes getting ahead of her and driving her back, intercepting her when she tried to flee into the trees.

Finally, convinced that Hanalea wouldn’t give in to persuasion, Han snarled in frustration and dragged Raisa off to the Demon King’s dungeon under Gray Lady Mountain. He circled around the captive queen, winding long ribbons around her, representing the legendary chains that bound her. The audience howled in dismay.

Once Hanalea was properly bound, Han, as the Demon King, walked around her again, striking her with the feathery rattles that represented bolts of flame. Raisa knelt, head thrown back, eyes closed, still resisting. Feathers brushed her chin, the back of her neck, along the backs of her knees, and behind her ears, raising gooseflesh and setting her heart to hammering.

Exhausted after a long session of torture, the Demon King lay down to sleep, pillowing his head on his arms. Raisa rose, dramatically stripping off her ribbon chains and dropping them to the ground. Hushing the audience with a finger to her lips, she went and stood over the sleeping Demon King. As she looked down at Han, he opened his blue eyes and gazed up at her in mute appeal. She wanted nothing more than to kneel beside him and press her lips to his.

Instead, seizing the ceremonial Sword of Hanalea, Raisa lifted it high in front of her, then plunged it into the Demon King’s breast. Han took hold of the blade with both hands, holding it in place, staring up at Raisa with no trace of humor.

“Your Majesty,” he stage-whispered. “You have pierced my heart.”

There followed a lengthy dance in which the wounded Demon King chased Hanalea around the circle. Finally, he dropped to his knees, shook his fist, and promised to destroy the world.

Han fell forward on his face and lay still.

The other dancers circled around Raisa, beating drums and waving rippling strips of brilliant cloth to represent the earthquakes and flaming eruptions that were the Breaking. Now Nightwalker came into the firelight, emissary of the clans. He and Hanalea entered into an elaborate dance, circling the clearing while the Demon King lay dead on the ground, forgotten.

Together, Nightwalker as the Demonai Warrior and Hanalea swept away the cloth flames and chased off the drummers. A cheer went up from the audience as they embraced. The dance was finally over, Hanalea’s victory complete.

Han rolled to his feet and walked out of the clearing without a word, melting into the darkness.

Afterward, Nightwalker walked Raisa back toward the Matriarch Lodge. Light and voices spilled from the entrance. Willo was hosting guests from other camps, along with Han and Dancer.