Page 78 of Caught in the Devil’s Hand

“I’m thinking about saying the command word right. I understood what I was saying yesterday, but now I’m back to barely knowing any Mahou.” Would an empress be so inconsistent and useless? She doubted she could actually call herself empress when only two people in the world really believed it—unless you counted Majo. That made three. She didn’t believe for a second that Oka was convinced. She wasn’t even sure she was convinced.

“Empress Suzu would speak perfect Mahou only after communing with the Divine One and without even knowing she was doing it. You’ll come to know it as well as Rosuke and I do. I promise,” he said, squeezing her arm comfortingly.

“But did I say it incorrectly? Did I mess it up?” she asked, looking at him with pleading eyes. She needed to know how to do these kinds of things. Majo would clean the floor with her if she didn’t.

“You said it beautifully. It’s the feeling behind it that’s stunting the spell. You have to really want protection from a blow. Some people use fear to build up their mastery until they’re confident. Others use anger.”

“Isn’t it a bad thing to be afraid?” she asked, wondering how anyone could survive a battle against a horde of demons and be scared.

“Only if you let it take over you. Otherwise, it’s an incredible motivator. My father used to say, ‘Courage is being able to act even when you’re afraid.’”

“So you’re saying I should try using my fear to make the spell work?”

“It’s worth a shot,” he said, flashing his brilliant grin at her. Her stomach flipped.

He was so dashing in his all-black traditional clothing. She had once walked past a small group of mercenaries hired to protect the road to the next village, where she’d gone with her mother once for seeds, and compared to them, Vallen was a warrior king. His black hair suited him so well, complimenting his icy-blue eyes and bright smile and making him look more like a sex demon than ever before. He was human again, though—that was certain.

She was going to miss a couple things about his former status. The binding, for one. The magic of their sexual connection had been dissolved after last night’s ritual, having “lost its authority” when he became human again—at least, that was how Vallen had explained it. He wouldn’t be able to arouse her through the binding anymore, but he’d also have more control without her arousal compounding his. She was looking forward to nightfall.

“All right, then,” she said and took a big breath. “Let’s try again.”

He returned to his earlier position. “This one’s going to hit harder. Should give you more incentive to block. Ready?”

Nodding, she braced her feet apart. Vallen formed the ball of energy again, and it spun tightly in his palm. If she didn’t block it, it would knock her over.

“Kaihou.”

The ball flew at her almost faster than her eyes could follow. She tensed, remembering a horrible summer afternoon when a girl had thrown a rock at her for daring to spy upon the solstice festival. She still had a small knot on her head from where it had hit her.

“Tate!”

The shell formed in chunks, appearing before her as a shimmering white wall, but it came together too slowly and only deflected the ball of energy by a small degree. It punched her shoulder and she stumbled back, barely keeping her feet under her.

“What in Oblivion is this?”

Shumei gasped, heart in her throat, and for a split second, she thought Majo had walked in and caught them off guard. She wheeled around and spotted the newcomer only a stone’s throw away.

The woman stood next to a large tree, hand braced on its trunk. Her black hair, woven into two thick braids, reached all the way to her waist. Rather than a dress, she wore plain, dark blue traveling clothes similar in cut to what Vallen wore. A sheathed sword hung from her belt, and a black satchel was slung over her shoulder. Her skin was darker than was typical for the people in the mountains, but Shumei had seen many merchants with the same complexion. Her eyes were the most arresting thing about her. They were the most brilliant green Shumei had ever seen. And they glared at her.

Though she had never met the newcomer before, Shumei knew her. Had dreamed of her. She had been one of the faces behind Oka, but in Shumei’s dream, she had been smiling.

“Who are you?” Vallen demanded, having appeared at Shumei’s side.

“That’s the empress?” the woman asked, voice husky and dripping with sarcasm. If Shumei’s mouth hadn’t already been open, it would have dropped open then. The woman had just called her the empress, and no matter her tone, her question made the shocking truth hit home.

“Who are you?” Vallen repeated. That he didn’t step in front of her as though she were a child made her feel authoritative, but Rosuke had no such considerations and completely blocked her view of their new arrival. She looked around for Oka and spotted him near the porch. He watched their exchange with wide eyes.

“I’ve come to answer my empress’s call and this is what I find?” the newcomer scoffed. “She can’t even block? And she’s—what, barely twenty?”

“Give me your name, woman, before I lose my patience,” Vallen thundered.

“I’ll only answer her questions,” she retorted.

“Move aside, Rosuke,” Shumei calmly ordered. She squared her shoulders as Rosuke reluctantly stepped away. The newcomer looked her up and down. Her dissatisfaction made a crinkle between her eyebrows, but Shumei took no offense. “What is your name?”

“Mai,” she said, forehead smoothing. Her answer was as simple as her clothing, as straightforward as her manners.

Having been told her whole life to speak with utmost politeness to her “betters,” Shumei wondered how this Mai could have developed such a blunt way of speaking.