I shifted sideways, uncomfortable. “What about me? I…I have no magic. There is no magic in Kiata.”
“Magic is rare in Kiata,” Seryu corrected. “Except for gods and dragons, of course. Oh, its sources may be dried up, but it’s an element natural to the world, and even the gods can’t erase every trace. That’s why once in a rare moon, a Kiatan is born able to wield what is left. A human—like you. Don’t deny it. I saw that paper bird of yours.”
I swallowed hard. “Kiki is gone. My stepmother…destroyed her.”
Seryu gestured at the pocket where I kept Kiki’s pieces. “You can bring her back.”
He stated it so matter-of-factly—the way I’d tell a cook that his shrimps were perfectly fried or his yams were well baked—that I blinked, my lips parting with surprise. “I can? No. No.” I shook my head. “I’m done with magic.”
“What, don’t you want to become an all-powerful enchanter?” He lowered his voice. “Or are you afraid your powers will corrupt you, and turn you into a demon?”
“No,” I retorted. I sighed, reciting, “Without magic, Kiata is safe. Without magic, there are no demons.”
“You do know what’s in the Holy Mountains of Fortitude, don’t you?”
“Of course I do.” The mountains were right behind the palace; I saw them every day.
“Thousands and thousands of demons,” Seryu replied conspiratorially, “and all the magic that your gods asked us dragons to help them seal up. Your emperor should revere the beings who helped to make his kingdom safe. Who keep his kingdom safe.”
“The gods and the sentinels keep Kiata safe,” I said. “Dragons are too busy gambling—and hoarding their pearls.”
Seryu cackled. “Is that what they tell you now? Don’t teach a dragon history, Princess, especially not magic history.”
“Don’t teach a human about our gods,” I countered. “Are you even supposed to be here? The gods promised to keep to heaven after they took magic away from Kiata. Didn’t the dragons say they’d keep to their lakes?”
“Sea,” Seryu corrected. “We live in the Taijin Sea, in a glittering realm of shell and precious coral. Not some muddy lake. And dragons are not subject to the gods’ rules. We never have been.”
“Then why have your kind disappeared for so many years?”
“Because your realm is boring. My grandfather’s palace alone would dazzle you out of your wits.”
“I doubt that,” I said dryly.
A thick eyebrow flitted up. “The only way you’ll find out is if you win our wager.”
“If I won, you’d find some way to trick me into staying in your ‘glittering realm’ for a hundred years. There’s a reason you dragons have a reputation.”
As Seryu grinned, not denying my accusations, I turned on my heel to leave. “Find some other fool to wager with you. That fool isn’t me.”
“What about your magic? It’s a rare gift—rarer still in Kiata. You should learn to use it.”
“And end up banished to the Holy Mountains?” I snapped, spinning to face him. “Demons take me, I’d…I’d rather sew all day! Stop following me.”
“You’re only saying that,” said Seryu. “If you were really going back to the festival, you’d be running. You want to learn.” He paused. “I’ll show you how to resurrect your friend Kiki. Wouldn’t you like that?”
My defenses crumbled. I did want to bring Kiki back, and I did yearn to learn more about magic. After all, if it had been absent from Kiata for so many years, there had to be a reason I’d been born with it—hadn’t there?
The gods took magic away because it is dangerous, I reminded myself. But the demons are already trapped in the mountains, and all I want is to learn how to get Kiki back. What harm could it bring?
The future flashed before me, and I saw myself trapped in Castle Bushian, married to a faceless lord and confined to a room where I sewed and sewed until the end of my days.
If it was a choice between that and demons taking me, I’d choose the demons.
Besides, how often does one get to learn sorcery from a dragon? I knew if I didn’t take this chance, I would regret it forever.
Seryu was still waiting, but before I could reply, a fleet of kites soared into the air. I was missing the kite-flying ceremony!
“Demons of Tambu,” I cursed. “My brothers are going to be so angry with me. And Father…”
“Nothing you can do about it now,” said the dragon. “You might as well enjoy the view.”
Tempting, but I shook my head. “I’ve already gotten into enough trouble as it is.” I started to go, then hesitated.
“One lesson,” I said. “That’s all.”
The dragon’s smile widened, revealing his sharp, pointed teeth. The look was not quite as feral as a wolf’s, but it was enough to remind me that he wasn’t human, no matter how much like a boy he looked.
“Here’s a lesson for you before you go—” Seryu took the wooden bowl and spun it around on his finger. “Walnut wood has magical properties, did you know?”
I confessed I didn’t.
“One of the little traces your gods left behind,” he said smugly. “Put something enchanted inside, and the walnut will conceal the object from prying eyes. It’ll even contain the magic.”
“What good is that?” I asked. “The bowl is barely larger than my head.”
“When it comes to magic, size matters little.” As a demonstration, he winked, and a flock of birds made entirely of water shot forth from the bowl and flew over the lake. At their highest point, they burst and evaporated in a puff of mist. “Might be useful for hiding future hordes of paper cranes.”
I was about to tell him there were no future paper cranes when Seryu continued:
“Fold one when you’re ready and send it into the wind. I’ll know to wait for you here at this lake.” He turned the bowl upside down on the ground, marking the spot where we’d met today so neither of us would forget it. “One last thing, Shiori—”
“What is it?”
“Next time, bring more rice cakes.”
* * *
One lesson quickly became two, three, then five. I met Seryu every week, usually in the morning before my embroidery sessions with Raikama.