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That makes her laugh, and me too. The sound of us together is music, causing Vanna’s light to flicker with some of its old brilliance.
You see, Angma? I think. No matter how dark you paint our world, Vanna will always bring the light.
All the same, I wish Vanna didn’t have to come. But only she has the power to defeat Angma. That’s been true since the day she was born.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
The demons have beaten us to Puntalo.
Everything lies in ruins. The marketplace, the temple, the row of red wooden houses where Oshli’s family lived, and even the statue of Su Dano by the washing pond. All that’s left are smashed poles, broken wheels, and a road sticky with rotting fruit and spoiled meat.
It stirs deep emotion within me. I like to say that I don’t care about Puntalo Village. That if a tiger were to attack, I’d only fight it to save my sister. But that’s not true.
In spite of my snake face, my heart is human. Though Sundau has not always been good to me, I would never wish ill upon it. It is my home, and Ukar’s too.
My body goes hot with anger, and Ukar coils his body around my shoulder, cooling me down with his skin.
There’s nothing you could’ve done, he says.
Demons have never beset our village before. I shudder, noting the long claw marks rending rooftops. The temple was hit hardest. Its walls are scorched, and candles and broken statues are strewn about the dirt path.
“Hello?” Oshli calls, picking up a fallen lantern. No vultures circle, and no bodies litter the streets. That’s enough to spark hope. With more urgency, he raises the light toward the temple.
“Hello?” I shout. “It’s Channari, Khuan’s daughter. I’m back.”
A few lanterns flicker in the distance, and I pick out voices. As we make our way toward them, it starts to rain. Heavily.
“This way,” I say, leading us down the road.
Such showers are common on Sundau. They won’t last long, but we need shelter. Hokzuh shields us with his wings while we run, and Vanna’s heart illuminates the way.
We head to Adah’s house. It sits at the intersection of two roads, the largest in the village. The gate is broken, and a few trees in the courtyard have toppled over. Tiles from the roof lie shattered over the wide stones.
“I pity the demons who did this,” Vanna murmurs. “Lintang is going to break their necks with her broom.”
I have to laugh. We used to joke that the house is our stepmother’s true love, not Adah. “Or she’ll scream so loud they shrivel up and die.”
“No one can scream like Lintang.”
“No one,” I murmur in agreement. “At least the rest of the house is still standing.” I climb over a fallen tree, then head toward the kitchen. I have weapons stashed in my room.
“Wait.” Halfway into the garden, Vanna stops midstride, her nostrils flared. “We’re not alone.”
I’m instantly on my guard. “Demons?”
“No.” A low chuckle huffs out of her. “Children…in the kitchen. You and Oshli go to them. I’d just frighten them.”
Words she’s never spoken before in her life.
Hokzuh stays with her. “I’d have to break my bones to fit through that tiny door,” he says, nodding at the kitchen. “I’ll wait out here with your sister and come up with a plan.”
Together, Vanna and Hokzuh retreat into the storerooms, and I wonder what they’ll talk about while I’m gone. Will Hokzuh tell my sister one of his terrible jokes, or will he simply stare covetously at the pearl he cannot see but knows is there? When I hear her laugh, I know it’s the former. And I breathe a little easier.
The kitchen smells of open sugar jars, and flies hum merrily over the table. Oshli picks a broken wooden bowl off the ground. It’s the one Vanna used to cover her heart when she slept.
My sister’s right. This isn’t the work of demons. It’s the work of children. Five of them, hiding on the other side of the muslin curtain—their ten tiny feet just visible.
