Girls of Paper and Fire

“But I don’t want an easy life. I want a meaningful one.”

“Besides, are you sure you aren’t part demon? I guess you haven’t had time to look in a mirror, what with all the assassinating and mortal danger and whatnot, but whatever those fools at the palace put on your eyes earlier has smudged.” He flaps an arm. “You’re looking a little… panda-form.”

“I think you’re forgetting we’re an elite pack of warriors,” Merrin replies. “Hunting won’t be a problem.”

“I’m not a warrior,” I say.

“Sweet girl,” he replies, head swiveling in my direction, “you killed the King. You’re the most warrior of us all.”

“Is this a good time to wish you a happy birthday?” Wren asks, and I laugh again.

“Shame on you, brother,” he says, his voice a high-pitched croak. “Letting Papers ride you.”

Merrin shoots a quick look over his shoulder as Wren reaches back to draw one of her swords. “At least I’m not wearing that ridiculous hat.”

Merrin lets out a hiss. “Not these assholes.”

“The Tsume!” Wren shouts in my ear. “The King’s elite bird warriors.”

“And of course,” Merrin says, “they keep badgering me to join. How many times must an owl say no?” There’s a pause. “Sorry about this, girls,” he says, then tucks in his wings.

“And why are you even here? You shouldn’t have come back, Wren. You shouldn’t have risked it.”

“Of course I came back. I had to make sure you were safe.”

“You can kill me,” I hiss, forcing each word past his tightening grip, “but it won’t stop them. They are coming for you.”

It’s fleeting, but I see it spark across his eyes then—fear. And I comprehend now that it’s not a new emotion to him. It’s just been in hiding. All it needed was something to call it forth, to trip his mind into panic.

He stills. “You know.” A pause, then his voice rises. “Who? Tell me! Tell me who dares plot against me!”

Blood trickles down my forehead. I blink it away. “Go ahead. Kill me. I’ll never tell you.”

Know your place, she is telling me. Remember who it is you are.

“General,” I say smoothly. I flash him a sweet smile, though my tone is acid. “You should be careful. I doubt the King would take kindly to seeing you touching one of his Paper Girls.” My smile sharpens. “Actually, I don’t take kindly to it, either. Touch me again, and I will cut your fingers off.”