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It can’t be Vanna.
But it is. I would have known if I had looked at her heart. It still glows, and as the pond water from her fur drips onto my skin, I kneel beside her.
“Vanna?” I whisper. “Vanna?”
A soft beleaguered cry crawls out of her throat, and I could weep. What have I done?
All of me trembles as I roll her carefully out of the dirt. She’s bleeding from her side. It’s an ugly gash, long and wet, but thank Gadda, it’s not too deep.
I bury my face in Vanna’s fur. “I’m sorry.”
There’s no time to ask what happened. Her whiskers go taut again, alerting me a second before swords hack through the bushes and footsteps come clomping our way.
The palace soldiers have found us.
There’s a legion of them—and they’re armored heavily. Where can we go? If we leave the garden, archers will shoot Vanna the instant we step onto the red-bricked paths.
I shield my sister with my body. “Don’t touch her.”
“Step aside, sister of Lady Vanna,” says one of the guards. “The Demon Witch has enthralled you with her sorcery. If you will not move, we will be forced to harm you.”
“This is the Lady Vanna!” I hiss, raising my spear. “Angma has taken her body. If anyone attacks her, they will answer to me.”
“And me,” says Hokzuh, who descends from the sky to my side. The ground shudders under his weight, and he opens his great black wings dramatically.
The soldiers back away, unsure whom to fear more: the dragon or the tiger.
Ukar flicks his tongue at me. Go.
I don’t need to be told twice. While Hokzuh deals with the soldiers, I usher Vanna into the trees. Tai’ya Royal Garden is one of the wonders of Tambu. It is as wide as all of Sundau, interspersed with lush orchards of plump fruit. The perfect place to hide. Together, we skim past lime and breadfruit trees, but Vanna is breathing hard. She needs rest.
We take shelter under a wide palm, not far from a grove of durian trees. From experience, I know the spiked fruits make excellent weapons. Their pungent smell will deter people from finding us—at least for a little while.
Vanna’s never liked durian, and the way she grunts at the smell erases any lingering doubts that this is my sister.
I collapse at her side, dabbing her wound with my sleeve. The blood’s already drying. The light in her heart makes her coat glow, and though she wears Angma’s stripes and fur, Angma’s white hair and horns, she does not bear the shadows that clung to the Demon Witch. She is majestic, she is beautiful.
Rain streams down my face, more than a few drops catching in my eyes. They prick like tears. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
“I deserved it.” Vanna’s mouth curves into the semblance of a smile. It is terrible to look at, full of curved teeth and a massive pink tongue—yet somehow, in the softness around the corners, I see a hint of my sister. “It was stupid of me, going straight to the pool. But this body’s heavy, and I was thirsty.”
Try as she might, no smile can hide her sorrow. Her light’s always given away her emotions, and though still radiant, it is dimmer than usual. I tuck her head under my chin, and she breathes heavily against my tunic. It is the hardest thing to swallow my rage. “What happened?”
“She won,” Vanna whispers. “It was like a game, her heart against mine. Hers was stronger, but not strong enough to kill me. So she took my body instead and gave me hers.”
I punch the dirt. Clever of Angma, switching bodies with my sister. She knows I will not kill her while she wears Vanna’s shell.
“I’m going after her,” I seethe.
“No!” Vanna exclaims with a roar. “You can’t.”
I’m not listening. I will find Angma. I will force my blood down her throat and watch her shrivel and die.
“Channi…,” begs Vanna. “Don’t. I can live with this. What I can’t live without is you. If you go up against her—”
“I was meant to fight her,” I say, each word as heavy as the most solemn of vows. “To fight for you. That’s why the Serpent King bit me.”
Vanna replies with a sigh. She lies low. “I should have believed you,” she says softly. “I should have come with you into the jungle all those mornings you asked.”
