27—Killing DanceWe had to brew Emi’s sleeping tea with corydalis root instead of poppy; the poppy had gone missing. Kee Sun snarled in frustration. It wouldn’t work as well.
By the time I arrived to deliver the tea, Emi and Toumi had in fact finished draining the baths and were back in our room getting ready for sleep. The others were, as usual, already snoring in their bedrolls. Fuyudori, of course, had her own chamber, which I had never resented more than that night.
“Here is your tea,” I said, holding the small pot out to Emi.
She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m so tired, to be honest, I really don’t think I need it.”
Biting back my frustration at having wasted my labor, I turned to bring the pot back to the kitchen. Toumi stood in my way, her arms folded. “Where have you been,
