KENZO DOESN’T LET ME GO until we’re outside, cloaked in the darkness of the gardens. His bronze eyes fix on my own as he glares down at me, waiting as I gulp in air, recovering. Our breaths spiral in the frozen air. It takes me a moment to notice that he’s wearing silk robes, his marbled wolf’s coat combed and slick. He must have come straight from the King’s pre–Moon Ball banquet.

“You scared me!” I hiss at him once I’m able to speak.

“I’m sorry,” he says, though his expression remains hard. “It was the only way I could get you alone. I was meant to meet Wren to finalize the plans for tomorrow. Then I heard the news. I waited as long as I could before coming to find you.”

I blink. “Find… me?”

“The plan has to go ahead, Lei. Wren won’t be able to return in time, but everything else is ready. You are going to have to kill the King in her place.”

There’s a pause.

Then I laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am deadly serious,” he replies, a growl deep in his throat.

“Look,” I say, lifting my hands and taking a step back, “I want to help, but—”

“You didn’t expect to have to get your hands dirty?”

My mouth snaps shut. “I didn’t expect to be the one to do it. Last time I checked I wasn’t a lost member of the Xia trained since birth to be a secret warrior-assassin-goddess.”

Wind catches my hair, making it dance. I clutch my night robe tighter around me. The air is as frosted as the ground, and the flimsy material of my nightdress isn’t much protection from the cold. But Kenzo doesn’t seem to notice. I suppose having fur makes you forget how vulnerable bare skin can be.

He regards me impassively with his bright wolf eyes. “We can adapt the plan,” he suggests eventually.

I goggle at him. “Adapt the…”

“All the elements are in place. You’ll be taking over Wren’s role, which you’re already familiar with. Being able to get the King alone, for him to let his guard down—that’s the important part. That’s why Wren had to spend this time cultivating a relationship with him. Only a Paper Girl can kill him without us risking our position in the court or exposing our involvement.” He pauses, something gentler in his look when he adds, “You have motive enough. It will look like a passion crime.”

“But Wren will be coming back, won’t she? She’ll come back and then we can try again.”

Kenzo shakes his head. “There’s no time.” Even with his voice lowered, it still has bite. He moves nearer to grip me by the shoulders and I brace at the sensation of demon hands on me. They’re so large they easily span the space from my neck to where my arms start to slope down. Memories jolt through me from that night with the King. Noticing my discomfort, Kenzo lets me go, but he stays close. “Listen to me, Lei. It has taken us years—Wren’s entire lifetime—to reach this point. You know how much we’ve sacrificed for this. We’re so close. If we don’t act now, we might not get another chance.”

I hug my arms across my chest, shivering. “What—what do you mean?”

“The King has been growing suspicious. I fear the Hannos are losing influence over him. Since the assassination attempt, he’s been hungry for retribution, to catch the court members who helped them. He knows there are those in the palace who’d betray him. I believe he’s starting to look at me as one of them.”

“But I thought you’re one of his most trusted advisers.”

“I am.” Kenzo’s lip curls, a wolfish gesture, his ears flicking forward. “And it’s been many hard years to get there. But recently, the King hasn’t been so receptive to what I’ve been advising. The Sickness is getting worse, and he’s convinced it’s because of the gods. That they’re punishing him for being a weak ruler. He’s been pushing ever more aggressive tactics to try to demonstrate his might.”

I nod. “He told me the same.”

“It hasn’t been easy,” Kenzo continues, rubbing a hand at the side of his neck, mussing his smoothed-down fur. “I’ve been trying to advise him differently, but I need to maintain my cover. It sickens me to think of all the deaths I’m aiding.” He turns his face away jerkily and lets out a cold laugh. “You know, there are official royal executioners. By ordering me, Naja, and Ndeze to do their work that day, the King was sending a clear message—do not cross me. Look at what happens to those who do.”

I squeeze myself tighter. “If he’s suspicious of your loyalty, why hasn’t he confronted you yet?”

“Because he understands the benefit in keeping his enemies close. Do you know how the Hannos even came to be aligned with him?”

I shake my head.

“They were one of the strongest clans in Ikhara before the Bull King’s ascension two hundred years ago,” Kenzo explains. “They occupied the entire Han territory. That’s where they get their name—from the two ancient families in the region, the Hans and the Nos. The Bull King was originally from Jana, from a tiny trading post village in the southern deserts. He had no influence over Han. He was only able to take control because the Hannos were supporters of equality between demons and humans. They welcomed immigrant clans and were keen to develop bonds between all castes. By all accounts, the Bull King impressed them with his intelligence and ambition, and he rose quickly through their ranks. And what were the Hannos rewarded with?” Kenzo’s nostrils flare as he lets out a hard puff of air. “Betrayal. The Bull King used his influence on the Hannos’ rule to empower the demon castes, manipulating them, making them hungry for control, then used their power to overtake their court.”

My eyes go wide. “And the Hannos still made an alliance with him after all that?”

“The Night War was devastating for Paper castes, Lei. We’ve all heard the stories passed down by our ancestors. Years of cooperation and partnership with demons, eradicated in an instant. Of course, there has always been conflict between clans. But now there was a force uniting the demon clans, giving them reason to forge alliances and maintain peace between their groups in order to hold power over Paper castes. You yourself have experienced this force firsthand. I am sure that the last thing the Hannos wanted was to pledge their allegiance to the very demon who betrayed them. But the clan needed time to recover, and Ketai’s forbears understood that they needed the King’s support in this new world. That they could later use his power as their own. So they went to him, groveling.” A growl rises in Kenzo’s throat. “How could the King resist the sight of his enemies, made to kneel at his feet like beggars?”

“But he knew what he’d done to them,” I say, absently pushing aside the windblown hair from my face. “Didn’t he worry they’d end up betraying him, too?”

Kenzo releases a rough laugh. “An arrogant warlord like him? I bet he didn’t think of it once. All he saw was a chance to use their connections among the human clans. Look at the trouble the King is facing now. Winning a war is the easy part. All it takes is brawn. Maintaining your rule afterward is the real test.”

I stare. “So the Hannos have been planning their revenge for two hundred years?”

“How many years would you wait for revenge against those who stole your kingdom from you?” Kenzo’s bronze eyes fix me to the spot. “Who tore down what you had so patiently been building? Who slaughtered hundreds of thousands of your kind, and laughed while doing it?” The hatred in his voice is as powerful as thunder; it rolls through the air between us and into my bloodstream, an electric vibration that charges my whole body. He adds, quieter, but just as fiercely, “I’d wait a lifetime to gain my revenge against someone who hurt just one person I love. For an entire kingdom of them?”

I think of Mama.

Of Wren.

Kenzo watches me. “Two hundred years doesn’t seem so long now, does it?”

“But… what happens after? Once they’ve had their revenge? If that’s what it’s all about—”

“Of course it’s not. By all accounts, the Hannos were genuinely open to seeing how this King’s rule developed. Along with needing to recover their military strength, I’m sure that was another factor in their waiting so long. But the Demon King’s regime only proved to them the importance of claiming back the throne. Now, with the Sickness and greater rebel activity than ever before, the King’s rule has grown even harsher. And not just for Paper castes.”

He turns jerkily away, staring into the darkness. When Kenzo looks back, there’s something sad and almost broken in his eyes, which makes me wonder if there’s a story behind his words, what memories might be haunting him.

“Is that why you’re helping the Hannos?” I ask. “Something happened to make you turn against the King?”

“Yes,” he answers simply. He looks down at me through narrowed eyes. “Wren told me you’re from a rural village in Xienzo. Maybe it’s hard for you to understand, coming from somewhere so peaceful.”

I take a shaky inhale, harden my gaze. “We were attacked by the King’s men seven years ago. They took my mother.”

“So you know what it’s like to have a loved one stolen from you,” the wolf says. With surprising tenderness, he reaches for my hands. His huge, pawlike hands easily swallow mine, but unlike his touch earlier, it’s comforting this time, almost brotherly. The way he is with Wren. He comes closer, the earthy scent of him unfurling from his ash-gray coat, ruffled now from the wintry wind. “Wren trusts you, Lei. She believes in you, and that means we all do. Will you do this for us? Will you kill the King?”

And even though it terrifies me—even though all I want is for a laughing Wren to come out behind a bush to tell me this is all some crazy, horrid joke—there’s no hesitation when I answer.

“Yes. I will.”

Kenzo blows out a forceful exhale. Lowering his head, he brings the backs of my hands to his forehead in a light press and murmurs huskily, “Thank you, Lei. Eighty times, thank you.”

“On one condition.”

He looks up.

“My father and Tien are protected from any punishment should…” I swallow. “Should it go wrong.”

“Of course. We’ll look after them, whatever happens. You have my word.”

I nod. Then I take a ragged breath. “Well. I guess it’s settled, then.”

In an instant, Kenzo’s furred fingers wrap around my own, as though closing the promise into my skin. “Come,” he says, and tugs me in the direction of the forest. Though I stumble to keep up with his long, loping gait, he doesn’t slow. “Time to show me what you’ve learned from Wren.”

The clearing is hushed, the heaviness of the cloudless night pressing down on us like one of the sky gods’ mighty hands. Kenzo draws me into the center, and I think he’s going to say something—I’ve just agreed to murdering the King, after all. But just like that first time with Wren, the swing of his fist takes me entirely by surprise.

I yelp, scooting back just in time. “Wait—”

He cuts me off with a spinning kick, the whir of his foot as it passes overhead making me flinch.

“The King will not wait,” he growls.

“Don’t you think I know that? At least give me a moment to prepa—”

He interrupts me with a thrusting punch to the gut. His pointed fingers catch me right in the middle, the contact throwing me off balance. I fall over, more out of shock than anything, a sharp exhale escaping my lips as I land painfully on my tailbone.

“Wren never hit me!” I shout up at him, rubbing my spine.

Kenzo’s lips pull back in a wolfish snarl. “But the King will.” Still, he holds out a hand, helping me to my feet. “This time tomorrow, you’ll be alone with him. And unlike us, the King will not go easy on you. He will not hold back. You have to be prepared for what that will be like. The minute he realizes what you are doing, he’ll retaliate. It’ll take everything you have to stay alive.”

I jut my chin, glowering. “Why did you even ask me, then, if you think I don’t stand a chance?”

“I don’t think that. It’s just that your chance is slim. But this is how the earth and heavens work. How they have always worked. All that is needed for anything to happen is for someone—god or mortal, demon or man—to see that slim chance, and take it.”

He fiddles with the tie at his waist, pulling up the hem of his shirt to reveal a leather band slung above his hips. Fixed to the belt is a short sword. I get a glimpse of a delicately engraved jade hilt before Kenzo’s fingers close around it. The metallic song of the blade as he pulls it free from the scabbard sets my teeth on edge, reminding me of that night under the theater, the moment the assassin drew his blade on Wren.

The moment so many things changed.

“All court members carry a dagger like this one,” Kenzo says. He holds it out for me to examine. “Including the King.”

I finger the edge of the blade. The thought of it piercing the King’s skin—digging in through muscle and tendon, spilling blood—seems unreal, something out of a dream.

Stowing the dagger, Kenzo steps back. “Take it from me,” he says, and splays his arms.

My first few attempts are pitiful. I comprehend now just how easy Wren was being on me. Kenzo offers no such exemptions. He bats me roughly away every time I get close and attacks back at a relentless pace. In just a few minutes I’m sweating despite the cold, my panting breaths fogging the air. I can feel bruises beginning to flower under my skin.

“Maybe you were right,” he says after my latest attempt has me sprawled on the ground where he threw me—and not lightly.

I clamber to my feet, massaging the cramp in my side. “What do you mean?”

“Maybe it is hopeless. We should have asked one of the other girls. Any of them would do a better job than you.”

“I know what you’re doing,” I shoot back.

He cocks his head. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Wren got me fired up, too. But at least she did it with kisses.”

Something twitches across his lips. “Would that work?”

I grin, half manic with exhaustion, and he returns it, his wolfish mouth widening, until both of us break into laughter, Kenzo with his head thrown back and me doubled over, clutching my belly. The noise is jagged and wild in the wintry hush of the forest. We laugh harder than his joke warrants. Tears fill my eyes, and suddenly I’m not laughing anymore. When Kenzo sees this, he hesitates, a tender look crossing his eyes, and it’s this that reminds me so strongly of Wren—of the way she looks at me right before a kiss, or right after, open and vulnerable and full of hope—that before I even realize what I’m doing I’m lurching forward.

Kenzo reacts a second too slow. For the first time, my hands make contact. I push him back, clinging onto his rough fur as he grabs my collar to prize me off. With a grimace, I butt the heel of my right hand into his neck. At the same time, I bring my knee between his legs, and as he slackens, I tug aside his robes and wrap my fingers round the hilt of the knife.

I tumble off him, laughing again now, holding the blade up to the sky. “I did it!” I shout. My voice breaks. I swipe a sleeve across my face, and though the tears don’t stop, I keep laughing anyway, the knife lifted high in my shaking fist. “I—I did it.”

Kenzo gives me a half smile just as humorless as my laughter. “Yes. You did.” His furred hand wrapping around my own, he brings the point of the blade to rest at the soft underbelly of his neck. “But do not forget the last part. Right here, Lei. This is where you aim tomorrow.” He squeezes my fingers, the engraved edges of the jade hilt digging into my skin. “Push the blade deep, and do not stop.”