“Keiji,” I broke in. “What are you talking about?”
He lowered his head, his shaggy hair drifting over the top of his glasses and shading his coppery eyes.
“I know you’re probably thinking of staying here,” he said. “And I know they’d let you. Of course they’d let you. So I thought I should mention all the things you’d be missing.”
“I’m not staying,” I said.
“Really?” He glanced up so eagerly I almost had to laugh.
“I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do,” I said. “I have to talk with the Ikedas, get to know them, I guess. And I’m not sure how school will work, since I haven’t had a normal human education.”
I paused, seeing the twist of his mouth. Why did he seem so out of sorts even now that—
Oh. He was waiting to hear something else entirely. I hadn’t thought of that, because it was hard to believe he couldn’t hear how loudly my heart sang as I looked at him.
“At least I’ll have some help figuring all that out,” I said, taking his hand. “I mean, I hope I will.”
A grin to match mine spread across Keiji’s face. He swept into a low bow, brushing his lips against my fingers. “I would enjoy nothing more than to stay by your side, my lady,” he said.
And then I did laugh.
I had to brave a hundred more good-byes before I left. My kami grandparents hugged me in turn, whispering words of encouragement. Ayame took me by the shoulders and kissed my forehead, and then chided me about taking care of my hair. The other familiar figures of the palace came one by one, offering bows and squeezed hands and sometimes more tears.
By the time Chiyo and our kami parents had walked with Keiji, Haru, and me to the palace entrance, I was drained but ready. The midday sun greeted us outside. An early morning thundershower had washed away the smell of smoke and all remaining sign of Omori’s bloody defenses. I tipped my face to the hazy blue of the sky, the rain-fresh air rejuvenating me. Then I turned toward the foot of the mountain, where the dark roofs and winding roads of the town lay hidden beyond the trees.
I almost glanced to where Midori would have been hovering by me, ready for adventure, and caught myself with a sharp pang. Not all of us had survived this war who should have.
There were others I might still help. I could go visit Mr. and Mrs. Nagamoto now, properly. The kami rules I’d been committed to following weren’t mine anymore. I could let them see me—I could tell them what their family meant to me. If Mr. Nagamoto didn’t know yet about the sickness inside him, I could even warn him.
As soon as we got to Keiji’s car, I’d ask him if we could make just one stop before we headed to Tokyo.
Mother and Father pulled me into one final embrace, and Chiyo threw her arms around Haru, kissing him soundly. “You’ll come visit all the time,” she instructed. “At least once a week. And I’ll visit you in the city too. Just because I’m kami doesn’t mean I’m giving everything up!” She turned to me. “You’ve got to come hang out sometimes too,” she said. “We’re like sisters now, don’t you think?”
“We are,” I said, smiling. “I’ll come.”
“I wouldn’t mind joining you when you do,” Keiji said as we started down the path. “I’d like to see more of Mt. Fuji when it’s not covered with yakuza ghosts out for our blood.”
“I’ll second that,” Haru said.
I dragged the sweet summer air into my lungs as the breeze tickled over my human skin. I was giving up a life full of magic and music, the only life I’d really known. But I didn’t feel a single pinch of regret.
I’d found other sorts of magic. The knowledge that strengths could be weaknesses, and weaknesses strengths. The ability to read my own ever-shifting emotions, to reach through them to imagine life from another person’s perspective, and to accept all the ways my many-sided nature allowed me to be. Living as a kami had been glorious, but it was just one kind of music. This new life I’d discovered in the last week, for all the hurt and confusion that had come with it, held more rhythms and harmonies than I’d ever dreamed of.
I couldn’t wait to find out where my song would take me next.
THE END
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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This book was seven years in the making, and it would not exist without the assistance of a great number of people.
To the guides, museum staff, and all the others who pointed me in the right direction as I followed Sora’s path through Japan and who made my travels there an unforgettable experience;
To the Ontario Arts Council, whose Works In Progress grant helped support me and my family as I wrote;
To Deva Fagan, Amanda Coppedge, Robin Prehn, Jackie Dolamore, Jenny Moss, Aprilynne Pike, the members of the Toronto Speculative Fiction Writers Group, and my agent, Josh Adams, whose feedback shaped Sora’s story in invaluable ways;
To Izumi Tanaka, Eddy Jones, Misato Soejima, Kimberly Ito, and the others who offered cultural guidance and checked the manuscript for errors (any mistakes remaining are my own);
To Marissa van Uden and Kimberly Ito (again), whose editing skills transformed my manuscript into a fully realized book;
To Carlos Quevedo, whose cover illustration captured Sora exactly as I envisioned her;
To Colleen Sheenan, who created an interior design as gorgeous as that cover;
To all my writer friends and colleagues who’ve had my back and shared advice when I needed it;
To my family, especially my husband and son, for their patience and love as I worked to bring my vision into being;
And to the readers who’ve stayed with me across my various books, who’ve written fan letters and reviews, who’ve made me feel that what I do is not only appreciated but important;
I offer my immense gratitude and the hope that you find this story worthy of your efforts.
Interested readers will be able to find a more detailed account of my research on Japan and its mythology, as well as recommended media lists, on my website at http://www.megancrewe.com/song/
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Like many authors, Megan Crewe finds writing about herself much more difficult than making things up. A few definite facts: she lives in Toronto, Canada with her husband and son (and does on occasion say “eh”), she’s always planning some new trip around the world, and she’s spent the last six years studying kung fu, so you should probably be nice to her. She has been making up stories about magic and spirits and other what ifs since before she knew how to write words on paper. These days the stories are just a lot longer.
Megan’s first novel, Give Up the Ghost, was shortlisted for the Sunburst Award for Canadian Literature of the Fantastic. Her second, The Way We Fall, was nominated for the White Pine Award and made the International Reading Association Young Adults’ Choices List. She is also the author of the rest of the Fallen World series (The Lives We Lost, The Worlds We Make, and Those Who Lived) and the Earth & Sky trilogy (Earth & Sky, The Clouded Sky, and A Sky Unbroken).
Connect with Megan online:
@megancrewe
MeganCreweYA
www.megancrewe.com
[email protected] ALSO BY MEGAN CREWE
Give Up the Ghost
The Fallen World Series:
The Way We Fall
The Lives We Lost
The Worlds We Make
Those Who Lived
The Earth & Sky Trilogy:
Earth & Sky
The Clouded Sky
A Sky Unbroken
Table of Contents
&nb
sp; Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Also by Megan Crewe
Megan Crewe, A Mortal Song
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