“This would have happened sooner?” I laughed. “You’re such an optimist.”
“Not an optimist. Just a fool. I’m still almost sure I’m going to wake up in a puddle of my own drool in the morning.”
“That might not be entirely inaccurate.”
“And I must’ve already committed a number of crimes I could get executed for.”
I knew he was still jesting, but I found the tears stinging my eyes as I shook my head. “No, Khine,” I said, my voice growing serious. “I won’t let that happen. Ever.”
He pulled me into his arms, and I felt him press his lips on the top of my head, a faint reflection of that night we spent back in Anzhao, the night in the shed. There was safety in his embrace. Acceptance. I fell into the kind of sleep that wrapped you in warmth and pulled you deep into solace, the sort that made you feel like you never wanted to wake up again.
But I did wake, to the sound of frying garlic, which Khine was cooking in a pan with rice and some eggs he must’ve grabbed from the village while I slept. I watched him go through those now-familiar motions, trying to burn every moment into my mind—how he paused to remove an eggshell from the bowl, or stared thoughtfully through the window as he stirred with the ladle. How he would look up once in a while to gaze at me in silence, his expression fire to light my veins.
A day, I told him. I wanted it to be two. Three. A lifetime. After years of lies and treachery, of believing one thing and realizing it was nothing but a story I told myself, I knew that to fall into this again was the greatest mistake. I remembered what Nor once said during our trip through the Sougen with Dai, a brief remark when the subject of Rayyel came up. “You give too much. You should have held back. We all need to hold back if we are to survive this unforgiving life.” After everything Ozo had told me, I knew now that it was a sentiment they all shared back in Oren-yaro.
But it didn’t feel like a mistake. It felt like the one right decision I’d made in my life. Crossing the chasm didn’t seem to throw a wedge into what we were before. Things remained as they were, as effortless, with one difference: Where there was once fleeting touches and brief embraces, he now reached for my hand often. He would draw me to him and kiss me hard enough that it was clear he, too, wanted time to stop.
We gathered herbs, made salve, picked mushrooms to eat with our rice and strips of dried buffalo meat. He showed me how to grind dried herbs and how to sweep properly, which somehow resulted with us on the floor in a tangle of dust and shredded leaves. “You are hopeless,” he chuckled, wiping dirt off my face. I grabbed his shirt with both hands.
“Never forget me,” I whispered.
He laughed, misunderstanding. “And if I say no, you’ll strangle me, I’m guessing.”
“No, I mean—” I pulled him down to me.
He saw the expression on my face and grew sombre.
“Just say it,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be true.”
He took my hands in his and kissed them. “Never, Tali,” he swore.
I closed my eyes, wishing I could promise the same thing, knowing I couldn’t. Knowing the dance of the living means we breathe in the air until it is all gone and we fall on the wayside and the world learns to dance without us. What would it have looked like if I spent the last eight years like this? To know happiness so unreal, my days would’ve been spent worrying over losing it someday? Looking at it that way, I supposed eight years would look a lot like twenty. All I had was the one day, and it was almost over.
We could own nothing and still have everything.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE USURPER’S DOMAIN
As much as I wanted to linger in the hours of that second night, morning came with abandon. We left the hut just as the dawn swept the sky with traces of red and orange. We took a trail that wound around the hill. A few hours later, we reached the edge of the river, where a boat was docked next to a tree.
“You surprise me, Lamang,” I said.
“You’re saying that just now?”
“Someone has to put you in your place.”
“I am in my place.” He gave me a knowing look.
I pretended to sniff. “Barefoot in mud?”
“You don’t look much better yourself.” He clambered into the boat after me, handing me an oar. “But this suits you.”
“Maybe.” I gazed up at the sky, closing my eyes as the wind blew past us. It was tinged with the scent of pine, and leaves drenched in rainwater from last night. I felt Khine begin to row. Taking a deep breath, I dropped the oar into the water to do the same.
“Have you heard from your siblings?”
He frowned. “Changing the subject already.”
“Give me this, Khine,” I said. “Please.”
“Inzali has written about Rai—”
“Not her,” I grumbled. “Nothing to do with that life. Tell me about your family. Did Cho get back to Anzhao safely? How is Thao doing?”
“I don’t know, Tali,” Khine said truthfully. “It’s been war, remember? I wouldn’t even know how to get in touch with them if I knew where to find them.”
“When you’ve freed Thanh, take him with you and go home, to your family.”
I heard him draw a quick breath.
“What would I do there?” he asked, after a moment of silence. “Without Lo Bahn or Jiro Kaz’s support…”
“They’re thieves, Khine.”
“As I am.”
“You know you’re worth more than that.”
He laughed.
I placed the oar on my lap and turned around. “Look at you now. You’re working as a surgeon, not a thief.”
“But I am still a thief,” he said. “The surgeon act is a ruse. Your son is the chest of gold.”
“You told me you were helping those people because they needed it. A direction. You care for your patients, Khine. There will be something for you outside of this world. There has to be.”
“You seem to have forgotten that I’m useless outside of war. Gaspar is hostile to foreigners, Dageis has their own physicians’ guild…”
“Go home,” I said. “Retake that exam. Finish your last year. Funds won’t be a problem—I’m sure we can do something about that. You—”
“Stop, Tali,” he replied. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
I took a deep breath. “I know you hate handouts. This isn’t a handout. But I want you to show my son that there is a life outside of this. That he can be… more… than what he thought he was destined for.”
“You sound like someone who’s given up,” he said.
“I haven’t,” I replied. “But let’s be honest, Khine. I am tearing apart everything that has kept me alive all this time. If the Anyus agree to assist me, I will need to return to Oren-yaro. Perhaps the very action of showing up at the gates with an army will make them panic. Perhaps they will execute Rai before I get the chance to speak. Every attempt at diplomacy comes with the chance of causing chaos. It would fill me with despair, except…” I smiled. “If I know you’re with my son, that you’re both safe, that you are rebuilding your life again…” I trailed off, noticing the shadow on his brow. A part of me wondered if I hadn’t tried hard enough to show him we didn’t have a future together. And then, haltingly, What if I’m not trying hard enough to make sure there is?
I turned back to rowing. The boat continued to drift downriver. By mid-afternoon, we passed by the Yu-yan ridge. I spotted the Anyus’ dragon-tower and felt my skin crawl. Go, my father had commanded. And despite everything, despite my insistence that I wanted nothing to do with him ever again, here I was.
“I’ve been trying to warn Lord Huan about the people turning into creatures,” Khine said, breaking the silence.
“War and famine will only make things worse.”
He grimaced. “Dai plans to besiege Yu-yan soon. I hope we can get Lord Huan to understand what this means. He doesn’t want to listen. He thinks they’re children’s stories, that I’ve spent too much time lis
tening to Kaggawa’s folk tales.”
We were so close to the city, it became hard to ignore the rift in the sky. I pointed. “And has he seen that? Have you experienced the flashes of agan out here?”
“He’s seen it, and yet his eyes glaze over it as if he can’t. He tells me I just need a good, long rest. Those flashes of light? He laughs and calls them thunderstorms.” He glanced at the sky, as if expecting another; but apart from the rift, it remained achingly blue.
“Then he knows. Huan isn’t the sort of person who denies something out of cowardice. He would have been ordered to keep silent.”
“I suspected his father had something to do with it.”
“Warlord Ojika was one of the men my father blackmailed into carrying out his wishes.”
“So what makes you think he will agree to support you? If he’s on Ozo and Yuebek’s side, he could just send you back to Oren-yaro, all tied up like a pig for slaughter.”
“Because there is nothing left to blackmail him with,” I said. “I, on the other hand, know more about his son Eikaro than my father did. I have no plans to threaten Warlord Ojika—Eikaro is gone, if not dead, and I won’t use him that way. I simply want to lay out Warlord Ojika’s options and show him that being on my side is better than being against it.”
We reached the shore and left the boat attached to broken pilings, remnants of Old Yu-yan. Before the Anyus’ arrival, it had been an open city, spilling out along the riverbank and beyond. Now it lay behind walls, a fortress that could rival any of the other warlords’ out to the east. A necessity, I was told last time, because of the dragons, but…
You would think that impending disaster was all it took to unite people. That we could learn to set aside our differences, and seizing power was less important than making sure there was a land to fight over by the end of it all. But I had seen enough after five years of rule not to be surprised. People would rather set fire to their own house than swallow their pride, and watch as the flames take them with it.
Khine led me to what appeared to be the gates to the guardsmen’s barracks.
“Closer,” he whispered, dropping his hand to my waist. Even after everything we had shared, I felt my cheeks flush.
“Is that Lamang?” a guard whistled from the tower. “Who’s that with you?”
“A friend,” Khine said, allowing the implication to settle in.
The guard laughed. “You?”
“Even a hermit gets lonely.”
“She’ll have to stay out there,” the guard said. “You’re the only one Lord Huan has cleared.”
“Can’t you make an exception?” Khine asked. “Come now, she’s been dying to see the city. What can one woman do?”
“If she’s a spy for Kaggawa…”
“I have news about Kaggawa’s movements,” Khine said. “Spy or not, she won’t be able to do a damn thing. And I’ve been meaning to stay a few days here.” He gave a smug grin. “I have to keep my bed warm somehow.”
“You rascal. You should’ve told me. We’ve got whores in the city.”
“I trained to be a physician. That’s not something I’d recommend to anyone who wants to keep their parts intact.”
The guard laughed. “I always did say you were a joker.”
“It’s really not so much a joke as a health warning.”
The guard laughed and disappeared around the corner.
“I apologize for this,” Khine said in a low voice.
I pressed his hand into mine, squeezing. “It’s not the worst act I’ve played.”
“I can only imagine what you had to go through with Lo Bahn.”
“He’s still angry about it. Like it’s my fault he can’t hold his liquor.” I pressed even closer to Khine as the guard appeared, my hand on his chest.
“The officers will let it slide for now,” the guard said. “But if there’s any trouble…”
“I won’t cause trouble,” I crooned, in a tone low enough to make the guard flash me a grin.
We were allowed to step through the gates, which opened up to a dark, dirty alley. Khine took me by the hand, leading me past the marketplace. Down another dizzying turn, and then we found ourselves in front of a small tavern, guarded by an old woman with one eye.
“Name?” she hissed.
“We go through this every time, Sang Iga,” Khine groaned.
She pursed her lips together. “You’re going to have to speak up, I’m a little hard of hearing.”
“Khine.”
“Kayin?”
“Khine. Lamang.”
“You’re speaking gibberish.”
He gave an irritated smile. She blinked at him before turning to me. “And this—one of the new girls? You’ll have to go through the back, missy. Although—aren’t you too old?”
“She’s not terribly old…” Khine began. I jabbed him.
“Oh, just go on, then,” she finally said with a sigh. “You’ll talk the ears out of me and I just don’t have time for that.” She clacked her tongue and waved at us with a cane.
“You’ve been making friends,” I said as we strode through the narrow doors and into an even narrower hallway.
“I’ve been exploring my options,” he whispered. “I didn’t know where to turn to if ever Thanh needed help, and Huan seemed honest in the brief time I’ve known him. He thinks I’m his spy in Kaggawa’s camp, which keeps him happy about my presence. Sang Iga, and others… are his trusted servants. He’s been gathering people.”
“For what?”
“You’ll see.” We reached a common room, one so small that I could only count six tables. A few faded paintings decorated the dilapidated walls.
A group on one table erupted with raucous laughter. One of the heads turned as we approached them, and I saw Lord Huan’s face turn bright.
Khine pressed a finger on his lips as Huan got up to meet us. “Meet one of my new assistants,” Khine said.
“A pleasure, my lady,” Lord Huan said, taking my hand. He was visibly struggling against the need to show me the proper respect.
“A little less obvious,” Khine hissed in Zirano.
Huan scratched his cheek. “Where’d you… uh, get this one, Lamang? Her, uh, behind looks… promising.”
“Why are you two so bad at this today?” I whispered under my breath.
“Lord Huan is always bad at this,” Khine grumbled.
“What’s that?” one of the soldiers from the table called out. “Is that Lamang with a woman? We were starting to wonder.” He leered at me with unsteady eyes, and I wasn’t sure if he was trying to size me up or just trying to focus.
“That’s too bad,” another chimed in. “One of the girls has been asking for you. Said she was going to bring a friend if you’re interested.”
“Tell her I appreciate the thought,” Khine said. I glared at him, and he wrinkled his nose. “But I’m quite preoccupied at the moment.” His eyes never left me as he spoke.
“Gentlemen, as lovely as this has been, the good doctor and I need to chat alone,” Huan interrupted. He clapped his hands. The soldiers got up, swaying slightly as they marched past us. After they strode through the doors, the old woman, Iga, came in to bar it.
“My apologies for their rudeness, Beloved Queen. They were drunk.”
“You’re making excuses,” Iga snorted as she returned, one hand on her hip. “Those men need more discipline, Lord Huan. I’d have smacked their skulls with a bamboo stick.”
“It’s war, Sang,” Huan replied. “Too much discipline will sow dissent.”
“And here I thought you run a tight ship,” I said.
“Tight enough where it counts. My queen, I suppose Lamang here has updated you on your son’s situation?”
I nodded.
Huan grimaced. “We will assist any way we can, of course—anything to deal a blow to Kaggawa’s ego. He thinks having the prince in his possession can make him king. What I’d give to wipe the smug look off his face. He claims he’s going
ahead with Prince Thanh’s betrothal to his daughter as soon as he lays claim to the city.”
“You and your little war. You’re like children playing games.” Iga turned to me now, a scowl on her face. “I thought it was the queen. I recognize the look.”
“What look?” I asked.
“Yeshin’s,” Iga snorted. “I’m Oren-yaro, child. I served at your castle for a while before your father sent me here. It’s about time you showed your face. I thought the west would be in smithereens before you ever graced us with your presence.”
I paused to let her words sink in. I wasn’t going to bother correcting her that I was here months ago, when I came as a hostage, not a queen. Now I was. Even with every intention of burning my father’s claim to the ground, I was here to save Jin-Sayeng, as her queen should have been doing all these years.
I bowed, accepting her admonition. “I know I’ve neglected my duties out here…” I began.
She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant. I was chief builder at Oka Shto. I know how your castle was built—exactly how.” She gave me a knowing look “I had my opinions about it. When I told your father, he sent me here to work on the Yu-yan dragon-tower instead.”
She got up and shuffled towards the kitchen. She returned carrying an armful of scrolls. Huan’s face was twisted into a scowl, but he said nothing as she unrolled them. They were blueprints—plans for the base of an elaborate dragon-tower.
“You told me this tower was recently built,” I said, glancing at Huan. “But these plans were dated from when Warlord Yeshin was alive.”
“The foundation was started years ago,” Iga said. “I had my opinions about that, too, but by then my husband was dead and my own children’s lives were on the line. I’d learned my lesson, and I kept my mouth shut.”
“Are they back in Oren-yaro?”
She nodded, and now I understood the hatred brimming in her eyes. “I’ve got grandchildren now, too. I haven’t heard from them since this war broke out. I hope you haven’t lopped off their heads.”
“Why didn’t you go back home?”
The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 41