Page 47 of Drawn into Oblivion

She was ready for him.

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“Right away,” Kyoko said before hiking up her skirt and bolting down the stage steps. Having sent her to retrieve something, Mai watched her assistant with trepidation as the young girl deftly skipped over the step-stone path to the pond’s bank. Beyond her, just a few yards away and surrounded by bodyguards, Shumei and Vallen were still busy greeting people who had gathered to meet their empress.

A few moments remained before Spring’s festival performance. The other four house elders either paced or chewed their fingertips while five young ladies, one selected from each house to play a quintet of thirteen-string koto, stared determinedly at nothing. They subtly nodded while twitching their fingers as they silently practiced the song they were to perform.

Mai scanned the onlookers patiently awaiting the performance. More than half of those present at the opening ceremony had returned to watch, the rest still enjoying the booths scattered all over Lantern Park. Spotting the officers in their black uniforms was easy, especially the handful who had worn their formal attire.

But she couldn’t find Rosuke. She knew he was helping with the more dangerous events such as the archery competition, that wanting him there when he was needed elsewhere was selfish, and that she could always seek him out afterward, but she couldn’t help hoping she’d see him in the crowd, cheering her on.

“May the Divine One help me, Elder Mai. I’m so nervous I think I may faint,” Nae said, rapidly fanning her face. Mai smiled sympathetically at her.

“It’s only a dance. All I ask is you not fall off the stage.”

“But that’s exactly it! I didn’t think I would be so nervous about it, but the pond seems so far below us, and there’s nothing to stop me from tumbling over the side.”

“We’re not leaping about,” Mai consoled. Though she had lived in a city of tree houses all her life and was not particularly bothered by heights, she could well understand Nae’s fear. “If it makes you feel better we can tighten the circle around the center and give you more distance from the edge.”

“Thank you. I think that would help,” Nae said with an eager nod.

“I have it, Elder Mai,” Kyoko breathlessly called, having returned already. She clambered up the stage stairs, not bothering to hold on to the handrail.

“Kyoko, please take more care with yourself. You nearly scared the life out of me hopping across the pond steps like that,” Mai admonished.

“I didn’t want to be late.” Panting, Kyoko held out her hand. “You wanted this one, right?” She opened her palm, revealing the emerald necklace Mai had earlier planned to leave behind in her room.

“Yes, thank you,” Mai said with relief. Kyoko helped secure the chain around her neck.

“Oh, it’s lovely on you,” Kyoko praised, stepping back to admire the sparkle of the large stone. Mai was awed by the morning sun struck it at the perfect angle to shoot out small glittering rays of green from the dip in her neck.

“I think we’re ready, Elder Mai,” Arashi said, approaching. The koto they’d been waiting for arrived on stage, though they had to be carried up one at a time. As soon as the large, stringed instruments were set down, the five women who would play them sat primly at their sides to tune them. They had been practicing today’s song for six weeks.

“Good luck,” Kyoko whispered before diving back down the stairs. The koto players laid their hands in their laps once satisfied with their instruments, and the other house elders looked at Mai expectantly.

“Your places, ladies,” Mai said with a respectful nod.

She found her spot in the middle and waited until the others had surrounded her in a box formation. The crowd who had gathered to watch the performance was enormous—thousands, easily. She swept her gaze over everyone, searching for a spot of black. She knew that the empress was watching from behind the stage, and spotted Kyoko to her left. Her assistant was no doubt standing on a tree root, for she was head-and-shoulders taller than usual.

Just in time, she spotted him. Rosuke stood not far from Kyoko but closer to the pond, his arms crossed and wearing a smile. He nodded at her, acknowledging her glance. Her heart whirled.

She took a deep breath and sent a silent prayer to the Divine One as she slowly raised her arms in front of her. She slid her right hand into her sleeve and clasped the delicate wooden handle of a folding fan. It was the same weight as the practice fan she had used, but it was bright red shot through with golden branches and berries. She drew it out slowly, an extension of her arm as she held it straight out in front, and then paused as she waited for the koto players to put their hands on their instruments.

Snapping the fan open cued the music, and the combined sound of five koto carried the notes across the pond. The dance they had practiced for the last few weeks wasn’t about athletic skill or even timing. It was about posture and grace. As Mai fluidly leaned and whirled, she swept the open fan in slow arcs that would catch the rays of the morning sun and throw out gleaming flashes. The others drew their fans from their sleeves and opened them with practiced movements, their fingers straight but controlled as they circled Mai.

Mai could only hear the music as she attempted the first trick. With a flick, she popped the fan into the air, grateful when it flipped over the air currents and returned without getting caught in the wind. She did this trick again, distracting the awed crowd as she drew a second fan from her other sleeve, this one gold with red embellishments. She moved through several poses, sweeping the fans and twirling her wrists to show them off. The house elders had almost finished their fourth full circle around her, having drawn out a second set of fans themselves, though theirs were black.

Flipping both fans was nerve-racking, but Mai managed it despite the breeze blowing over the pond. She then rapidly closed and opened the fans, the snapping sounds matching a particularly exciting measure of the music.

The house elders surrounded her in a diamond formation, each facing an edge of the stage. As Mai performed more tricks to distract the crowd, they knelt, laid one fan each on the stage, and whispered a spell over them. Then with a high note from the koto, the Spring ladies called out the keyword,

“Kakudai.” A pop echoed through the still air, and loud gasps sounded across Lantern Park. The four folding fans had grown fivefold.

As Mai knelt, the house elders laboriously pulled open their oversized fans, hiding her and themselves from the crowd as she quickly traced a spell on the stage with a stick of charcoal pulled from her sleeve. Afraid she wouldn’t complete it before the song came to a close, she finished in record time and ended up waiting a moment before closing the circle.

The koto music ended dramatically as the five players rapidly strummed the final chord. The house elders tipped their fans over, and Mai whispered her keyword.

“Sakura.”