The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

by K. S. Villoso

  “We have to save Ozo.”

  “It’s too late,” he said. “I saw them cut him down.”

  I swallowed. I’d wanted Ozo dead enough times in the past few months, but the thought of losing him now seemed unbearable.

  “Ozo’s dead,” Rai repeated, guessing what I was thinking. “We will mourn him later.”

  I tried to focus my thoughts. “Did Yuebek really ride north?”

  He nodded.

  “Ryia couldn’t have spooked him. He saw her intercept me and decided to leave me behind. He knows, Rai.”

  “He must have sent scouts ahead to look for Thanh himself,” Rai said. “He had months to do it.”

  “More than that. I think he knows something’s up. That I’ve been trying to lead him here for more than what I’ve let on.” I picked up my sword and returned it to my waist. “Thanh. We have to get Thanh out first. Ozo said he sent men to assist Khine. He said you know the meeting place?”

  Rai nodded and led me to the horses in silence. We rode away from the woods and up the road, leading towards the mountains. Not long after, a cloud of dust appeared on the horizon. Inzali came riding towards us, her usually placid face twisted in panic. I realized what it was even before she could open her mouth.

  “It’s Khine, isn’t it?” I asked. The sound of my own voice felt like an iron shackle around my throat.

  She nodded.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE CONFIDENCE MAN

  Over the past few weeks, I dreamed of Khine with a maddening frequency. Sometimes, I couldn’t tell if my mind was simply running through the memories with what little sleep I could catch, distorting them until I couldn’t even remember what was real and what was not.

  In a recurring one, I sat there picking herbs with Khine, listening to him explain how his cons work.

  “There’s stages to it,” he said, turning over the leaf in his hand to smooth away the dirt. “You need to identify the mark and then know what you can about him. Why him, and not someone easier? What stands out about him that you can use to your advantage? His habits, his quirks—but also his temperament, whether he’s easy to anger or quick to forgive. Everyone is a little bit different, and you need to understand what makes your mark special.

  “Because once you set things into motion, you’ve got to take advantage of whatever wiggle room you’ve got. Things won’t go your way. They never do. You need to be able to adjust to the circumstances, and you can’t do that without knowledge of your mark. You need to know how his mind works—what he wants and why he wants it. When you’re roping him towards you—convincing him how going along with the plan is in his best interests—you can’t do it against his will. If he’s fighting you, you’re not conning him, you’re bullying him, and a bullied mark will fight back.”

  “I didn’t realize there was so much to it.”

  Khine gave me a wry smile. “You think I stayed in Shang Azi for no reason?”

  “I thought the reason was you couldn’t afford anything better.”

  He laughed. “It’s safer to hide out there. I’ve conned businessmen with connections out in the other districts, but the authorities won’t touch Shang Azi with a ten-foot pole.”

  “So are you saying you’ve conned me, and I still don’t know it?”

  He coughed. “That’s not—”

  I came up to brush dirt from his face. “So… tell me more. You don’t want the mark fighting back.”

  “No,” he said. “You want them… compliant. They’ll be suspicious, of course. It’s human nature to be suspicious. Which is why knowing what drives them is important. You form a story around the mark, you see, and you want them to start believing this story themselves. Because there may come a time when everything breaks down and the mark sees the con for what it is, but you want it to be too late by then. You want him to believe everything you promised him… you want him to want it so much that the sun rises and falls with it and he knows he cannot live until it becomes reality. You want him to put the noose on himself, and thank you for it.”

  Khine gazed at me as he said the last part. Not a memory, I told myself. A dream. It was all just a dream.

  It had to be.

  Inzali explained everything on the way back. She had met up with Karia at the hut, who told her Khine’s plan of pretending that Thanh was deathly ill—too ill for the confines of a camp. He needed to visit the hot springs, which weren’t far from the hut. He was to be accompanied by Dai’s men. Ozo’s men were supposed to descend on them and extract the boy in a brief battle. In no time, we would have custody of Thanh, and we could watch Yuebek crush Kaggawa’s army at Yu-yan’s gates without fear of repercussion.

  But the hours came and went, and Khine didn’t show up. Neither did Ozo’s men.

  I knew the hot springs she meant. Khine had shown me the hot springs the morning after we spent our first night together—a surprise, he’d called it, his face beaming, still so convinced he could peel off the cracks of my shell and find something underneath. Khine saw the good in everything, even in someone like me.

  My ears buzzed. We met Karia and I didn’t even stop to observe whatever tepid reunion she had reserved for her brother. I went straight up the path to the hot springs, to the small cave where Khine was supposed to have handed my son over to Ozo’s men that afternoon. It was dark now, and the cave was empty.

  I heard footsteps behind me and I looked up, heart pounding. But it was just Rai. “You need to rest.” He stepped towards me and then stopped, still hesitating.

  A smile flitted on my lips. I wasn’t sure what to make of Rai becoming more thoughtful these days. “Tell me, Rai,” I croaked out. “Do you admire your mother?”

  “I respect her,” Rai replied, after a moment of contemplation. “I disagree with many things she has done over the years, but she has been an effective leader of our clan nonetheless. The Ikessars do not have a region they can rule on their own, much like the Sougen rice lords, but—”

  “History lesson aside,” I said. “Do you not sometimes wish you were born a rice farmer instead of a prince?”

  He lifted his eyebrows. “Because their cares are easier? It’s never that simple, Tali. Politics is much like farming. We don’t know if our actions, our words, our laws, will truly yield results, but something must be done. Pests, an early frost, a hurricane… these things can render a crop useless. Yet a farmer who plants nothing today won’t reap a single thing tomorrow.”

  “I think I’ve found the answer to how you can act like nothing bothers you.”

  “It all bothers me,” he said with a wave of his hand. “But life, you understand, cannot be contained inside a bubble. Chaos is inevitable. Cyclic. The important part is to not allow yourself to be so swept up by everything that you turn into one of those self-serving idiots we’re surrounded by. When all is said and done, order can be restored, even for just a little while.”

  “In exchange for a few lives, in the meantime.”

  Rai frowned. “The truth may not always be saccharine. In fact, it very rarely is. The sooner you accept it, the easier it is to protect yourself.”

  “I sometimes wonder if your bluntness is a blessing or a curse.”

  “You’ve never liked it,” he agreed. “I’ve accepted that, too. A long time ago.”

  “Teach me how to do that.”

  “There’s nothing to it,” Rai said. “It depends on how you were raised to view the world. An Ikessar is taught that nothing is ours. We are servants of the Nameless Maker. We—”

  “I’ve heard that somewhere before. Swords first. Servants first.” I gave a grim smile. “We come from the same tired words, made by the same tired people who didn’t understand that life is not a game. Do you not see why I don’t want this for our son?”

  “What life would you have for him?” Rai asked. “This is all we know.”

  “It is a big world, Rai. He’s a smart child. There are many things he could yet be, given the chance. A librarian. A scribe. A c
artographer. Honest jobs where he has a chance to be happy.”

  For a moment, he looked horrified, like I had just suggested our son become a thief or a beggar. Strange, given he was all but ready to sacrifice Thanh’s life to save him from Princess Ryia’s wrath. But then he sighed, his shoulders shaking. “I just want him safe,” he murmured.

  Before I could reply, I heard the crunch of leaves outside the cave. We stepped into the shadows.

  Kaggawa’s mercenaries appeared at the entrance. “If they’re not here, he’s fucked us over,” a voice called. “If he’s fucked us over, I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.” I recognized Larson, the guardsman.

  “He wasn’t trying to fuck us over,” one of his companions said. “Those were Zarojo soldiers on the road. They’re the enemy. I hear they’re marching to Yu-yan to help with the defenses.”

  “He could’ve followed us. The wily rat turned his horse the other way. Didn’t even hesitate.”

  They arrived at the pool. Larson swept his torch over the water, his face a mask of fury. “There’s no one here. The treacherous rat!”

  “We don’t know that, Officer. Maybe they’re just late.”

  “Late? Unlikely. We were going to sell the boy to the highest bidder. Did you know who he really was?”

  The soldier shook his head.

  “The fucking crown prince of Jin-Sayeng,” Larson said with a snarl. “That’s why Kaggawa’s been keeping a close watch on him this whole time. Lamang gave us this information so we would help him get the boy out of camp. If I see Lamang I’m going to wring his sorry little neck.”

  “We have to get back to camp.”

  “No, we don’t. The Zarojo were headed that way. Are you out of your mind?” He pushed his companion back through the entrance, their shadows skipping over the cave. Eventually, their footsteps receded.

  “Khine does that,” I said. “He was a con artist in Shang Azi. He was playing them against each other.”

  “Why didn’t he follow them?” Rai asked. “He could have taken the boy here.”

  “Do you see Ozo’s crew anywhere? They were supposed to be here to get rid of Kaggawa’s soldiers. Something must have happened on the road. Something must have happened to them.”

  Rai frowned. “Yuebek’s men—perhaps they’ve found something.”

  “We can trust Khine,” I said. “Something happened and Khine took Thanh elsewhere because it wasn’t safe to take him here.”

  “Can you hear yourself, Talyien?” Rai asked. “A con artist. I don’t care how much faith you have in this man or why, but you have to face the truth. There’s a chance he’s sold our son to someone else.”

  I shook my head and stumbled from the cave, my heart hammering against my ears. I went straight for the horses, flinging myself into the saddle in the dark. “You’re going to break your neck out there,” Rai thundered behind me.

  “I’m heading to Dai’s camp to find out what happened,” I said. “Don’t try to stop me.”

  He grabbed the reins. “I know that’s pointless. I’m riding with you.”

  “Then don’t slow me down.” I yanked the reins back, and dug my heels into my mount, tearing into the darkness.

  We rode past the village and then down to the main road, where the rice fields stretched out before us, dark stalks swaying with the soft breeze. I swung north, Rai’s horse barely keeping up with mine. My mind was skipping through what little I knew. Zarojo soldiers… what would they be doing here? Even if they had managed to build the pontoons fast enough, they would still just be crossing the river. It was impossible for Yuebek’s men to have launched an attack unless they were already here in the first place. Just like Rai said, Yuebek must have sent scouts in advance, long before we rode down here.

  Down I rode, my mind dredging up worse possibilities. It was like falling down a cliff with nothing to hold on to, but you knew you needed to grab something anyway, because you didn’t want to find out what was waiting for you at the bottom. My horse’s breath rose in clouds; as the road wound downhill, I pulled at the reins to slow her down.

  Something crashed out of the bushes. A figure, a shadow. It was too dark for me to see much else, but it came for the saddle, fingers outstretched, uttering a low, guttural moan. I saw its teeth flash—before it could grab my leg, I stabbed it in the neck with my sword.

  “Talyien!” Rai roared.

  I pulled back as his own horse galloped close. He had a lantern in his hand. The light revealed a man in rags, a common villager, now a crumpled corpse on the road. In the dark, I’d been convinced it was possessed by a corrupt soul, but I couldn’t tell anymore. I reeled away, gasping in horror. “I didn’t see—” I began. “I didn’t…”

  I heard a cry. There was a girl crawling out of the ditch. “Father,” she called. She looked about ten or twelve.

  My senses reeled. I watched as she approached the body, oblivious to the both of us on horseback. She was barefoot, and her clothes were torn at the back, half burnt. On second inspection, the dead man, too, had burn wounds on his hands and legs, so bad you could see the tendons peeking through the black flesh.

  “This chaos needs to end,” Rai said.

  The girl was cradling the body. She still hadn’t acknowledged us, almost as if she was just waiting for us to kill her. “I’m sorry,” I croaked out. The girl didn’t hear. Pretended not to. I removed the coin purse from my belt and threw it at her direction. It landed near her father’s bloody fingers. I didn’t know what good it would do her in a land that was burning to the ground. She must’ve thought the same thing, or else she just didn’t care anymore—she barely glanced at the purse. Instead, she continued to murmur over her dead father, crooning as if to a child, her forehead pressed over his damp white hair.

  I couldn’t look at her again. I turned my horse around and continued cantering down the hill. The smoke led me all the way to Dai’s camp.

  It was slaughter right from the gates. Zarojo soldiers battered themselves against Kaggawa’s mercenaries, making short work of the ill-equipped men. The gates were flung wide open, revealing tents on fire.

  I remembered the soldiers we had treated there, many of whom were so wounded they would be out of commission for months. Everything we had done was pointless. Those men wouldn’t be able to defend themselves. And the man I just killed—what was he? A mere servant probably, someone trying to make ends meet, even if it meant working for the same people bringing the destruction around them. I clambered down from the horse and tried to swallow, but my throat had gone dry.

  Rai placed a hand on my shoulder before wordlessly drawing me into his arms. I stood there, stunned. He quickly pulled away. “We’ll go around,” he said. “Find another way in.”

  “I thought you would say it’s too risky.”

  “It is,” he murmured, and left it at that.

  We left the horses in the woods and approached the back gates. By now the clouds of smoke all but covered the black sky, making it difficult to breathe without coughing. I could see mercenaries fleeing one by one, some with hardly a speck of blood on them. Easily routed, these mercenaries; Dai should’ve known better than to put his trust in them. As we came up the garden near the officers’ lodge, I caught sight of a handful of Jinsein guards armed with grass-cutters.

  “Halt!” they called.

  “We’re looking for Lamang,” Rai said. “Have you seen him?”

  “The surgeon? The bastard who let the Zarojo in?” They drew their swords and advanced towards us.

  Rai didn’t move. “Two questions for a question, soldier,” he said. “We’re not here to fight.”

  Something in his voice must’ve been enough for them. “You’re Jinsein,” one finally said. “I think you are. Those fucking foreigners…”

  “Blood will tell. Blood will always tell,” the other added. “Lamang is a turncoat. He came riding in here tonight. He was friends with the gate guards. They left their posts and by the time we realized what was happening t
he Zarojo were here.”

  “That was after he left with the boy?” I broke in.

  “He and Officer Larson took the boy somewhere for his health. There’s been an outbreak. He returned without either of them.”

  “He’s not here,” Rai said, drawing me aside.

  “A clue, perhaps, of where they’d gone…”

  “Talyien.”

  I turned to him, my eyes focusing. “Khine once told me that there’s a point in a con when things don’t go according to plan, and you have to make it up along the way.” I swallowed. “I know what I sound like,” I managed.

  “You find it hard to believe people will betray you.”

  “Perhaps,” I said. “I did that with you. They couldn’t see why I held on. I had every reason to have you killed and instead… I waited, like a fool. Chased after you, like a fool. Because in the world we live in, you are either a fool or a monster. Look what happened on the way here. I’m turning into the kind of person who sees shadows everywhere she looks, enemies pouncing on her every which way. Our world demands that we turn into monsters. What if our illusions are all we have, Rai?”

  The sound of fighting drew closer. I turned and saw that the Zarojo had broken through the inner gates. I didn’t bother to run. The first man through was familiar—the tall, bearded figure of Jiro Kaz. He spotted me at the same instance. “Queen Talyien!” he cried, voice booming. “You’re supposed to be back with the prince. What are you doing, still running around like you don’t have a nation to rule?”

  “I should ask you the same thing. I thought you were with Yuebek’s army.”

  “Prince Yuebek’s orders,” he said. “He sent me ahead to go look for your son.”

  “I figured. But my boy isn’t here.”

  “I know that,” he said, laughing. There was something in his voice.

  “You know something,” I said.

  “I know you’re not acting like a very loving wife right now,” Jiro pointed out. “You’ve disappointed Prince Yuebek, Queen Talyien, more than you’ll ever know. You’re supposed to be by his side. Maybe he’s right. You’re hiding something from him.”