"Not Mercury, Quicksilver is Mercury that has come to life. A metal that thinks. Birthed when Dragon's blood mixes with Mercury ore. It’s essential to complex alchemical workings. And guess what's getting more complex these days?" Yaki was guessing but it was an educated guess, on the Fox Fire the emergency cut offs were controlled by Quicksilver switches and Murray would spit out curses that could score the hull when one broke. What use the stuff was to the Dragon? She had no idea but as beings of metals and minerals she doubted it would be good for any nearby humans.
"Ships," Mitsuo said, his finally leaving her to stare off at something in the distance.
Yaki sighed dreamily, "With a couple tons of that stuff you could build a ship so swift that no law other than the winds could touch you." With a slow blink, her eyes went from him to Ryouta. Mitsuo had continued looking at nothing, nodding to himself, while Ryouta had rolled on shoulder, dismissing whatever he had conjured up. Yaki inched closer to Mitsuo.
"Dragon tits. What are you here for really?" Ryouta asked suddenly.
"You are no fun at all." Yaki pouted, "I'm doing business in the city on behalf of my mother. I snuck into your little Bottom's ball on a lark and your sour face looked interesting. Although, I'm beginning to see why you all are not mobbed with women. You're all practically princes of this city and yet you hang out in a tavern." Yaki placed her hands on the table and began to rise. "Fine, I'll go. I'm sure there are other men who would actually enjoy my company."
Ryouta blanched, "I didn't mean..."
Yaki began to shimmy out toward Mitsuo, he frowned. "What Ryouta is trying to say is he's sorry for being rude. He's had a rough patch with women lately but that is no excuse to take it out on you Determined." He shot a look a Ryouta that said, Mess this up for me and I will cut off your balls.
"Oh?" Yaki paused as she bent over the table, preparing to repeat the handstand maneuver.
Ryouta inclined his head toward her. "Sorry, please sit."
Yaki sat so she was hip to hip with Mitsuo and watched Ryouta's eyes glitter with envy before he turned to the bar and ordered another round of beers. Yaki felt the heat of Mitsuo's thigh against hers. Her choice had been made, it had probably been made since laid eyes on the trio. Of the three it was Ryouta who's back most deserved her dagger but she couldn't even pretend to like him. Even with the masks. Ryouta fit the description of the bully Chimon had painted him as. Mitsuo hid his own ugliness better. But then who was Yaki to judge? How many people had Ishe murdered in mother's name?
The conversation had turned, racing gliders were being mentioned again. A safe topic. Yaki's mask had answered the questions put to her. Beer passed her lips and kindled heat in her heart again but the pain was nothing like the inferno of the bottom's ball. She let her hand rest on his thigh and hoped that she wouldn't have to kill him. He smelled nice as she relaxed herself against his body.
"You know what Mitsuo is better at than me?" Ryouta said with an ugly grin and Mitsuo immediately stiffened. "Poetry."
Yaki peeled herself away from Mitsuo to give him a curious look. "Oooh? Now that’s a side I did not expect." Her mind reached for the names of the old master poets she'd been force to memorize but came up empty.
"Heeh," Mitsuo exhaled. "Not really, it’s a for a business arrangement." He attempted to both look embarrassed and glare at Ryouta at the same time.
"The business of getting himself under his Hana girl's skirts." Yoshiaki eagerly supplied with a laugh.
"Shut it cousin." Mitsuo half rose from his seat.
"Oh, this must be the Hana you're itching to marry," Yaki pitched her voice into a playful octave as she pulled Mitsuo back into his seat.
"I am not itching to do anything with Risu." Mitsuo muttered defensively, "Its political."
Risu Hana! The name sounded like a gong in Yaki's head, a classmate, almost a friend at the finishing school. Big boned, kind hearted and gabby Risu, with a righteous temper that rivaled Ishe's. Opportunities danced in Yaki's head and a bit of glee that she might be able to save a friend from a really bad match. "Well, if its political… Then." Yaki slid herself right back to her former position hip to hip with Mitsuo.
"So how much did your father promise you for snaring a Hana?" Yaki half whispered to him.
Mitsuo's face went from shocked, to calculating to finally lighting up with amusement. "Mistress Mana's girls..." He said as snaked an arm across her shoulders. "It’s enough to work."
Ryouta and Yoshiaki appeared to give up and began to converse on their own, leaving Mitsuo and Yaki alone for a moment. "Marriage is such a boring plan, safe but it makes you nothing more than a good little cog for the man upstairs."
"A bottom can't expect more than that."
Yaki pulled herself closer encircling her arm around his back. He's left handed, A little voice in her head said, our swords are not in the way. His breath tasted of beer and something else, some essence that she wanted to pull from his lips. "I could offer you some opportunities that you haven't even thought of." She moved her gaze up to his eyes, the pupils wide. His lips brushed hers without a conscious thought. A gentle kiss developed, the pressing of lips, a furtive touch of tongues. A simple mutual message. I want you.
A disgusted noise came from the direction of Ryouta and Yoshiaki. Yaki and Mitsuo parted, both grinning, Yaki fought to rebuild her mask, scrabbling back from the burning of her own cheeks. Mitsuo told them to fuck off with his fingers. Out of the corner of her eye Yaki spotted the waitress frowning at a scrap of paper in her hand. Yaki's heart, flush with victory and so many other things, stumbled, ka-ka-ka-clink as it seemed to fall from her chest and hide in her bowels as the woman hurried toward the table.
Yaki knew what it was before the woman placed it on the table, saying, "This is trying to get to one of you." One of the ink sprites Yaki had drawn to protect the house stared up at her with its head hanging in sorrow. The ink sprite yipped as Yaki snatched the paper off the table and crumpled it up into a ball. They had been a guard against other ink sprites and stealthy intruders. It shouldn't have been able to find her.
Unless--
As Yaki looked towards the doorway to the tavern, a priest stepped through it. The same one she had managed to fling herself past at the docks. With a curse she slammed herself back against the seat, shrinking behind Mitsuo. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Yaki gritted her teeth. She, Guro and Gama had killed the little bird on their way out. There had been no other way out without running the gauntlet of another Hearth kami. They must have raided the house in retaliation. "Mother has competition." She told the table. "I have to leave now."
"From the priests?" Mitsuo moved forward to shield her from eyes of the man.
"From the Steward. If you really want more opportunities, Meet me at the empress's overlook tomorrow afternoon."
"With you? Or we talking money?" He hissed back, too low for even his friends to hear.
"Both, can't have one without the other." With that, Yaki slid down under the table. Fortunately, the booth proximity to a row of tables shielded her from the priest's view. Very glad she had worn trousers today. If she ran she'd be spotted but if she hid, she'd be found. Iron tithe, Ryouta will probably sell me out in a heartbeat. Jilted bullies did that. No choice then. Run.
Yaki crawled out of the table and then scooted, hunched toward the back door of the tavern. The other patrons frowned at her.
"Hey!" Someone barked.
Yaki sprinted, dodging around a serving man carrying a tray noodle bowls she plunged herself through the back. A cook in a black apron gave her a bewildered look as she burst through the back door. In time to see the shine of a blade.
Chapter 27
Guro's blade slashed through the staff of the priest opposing him at the mouth of the alley. The priest gawped at his ruined weapon for a split second as the Dragon sworn lined up for a fatal blow.
"No!" Yaki screeched. Guro's blow slowed but it was already on the way, the slash crashing down the priest
's shoulder with of a crack of bone. The other priest, an older man, turned to run. Yaki's hand gripped the hilt of her sword and pointed the tip of the scabbard at man. Her finger reached out and touched its purple crystal. Like many high quality scabbards, it was tipped with a metal point. Unlike most, hers had a slit just wide enough for the sword's blade. The sliver blade extended out and stabbed into the back of the man's calf.
He stumbled as a Yaki felt pounding of feet shake the ground beneath her. Yaki whirled, lashing out with her foot. The priest who'd come in the front door caught the heel of boot with his stomach. He doubled over. Yaki continued her spin arcing her other foot high into the air and dropping it onto the crown of the man's head. The man's face kissed the ground with a hollow thud.
"Don't kill them!" She said as pounced on the man, fingers tearing at the priest's satchel. The man weakly tried to fend her off but she batted his hands away and drove her knee into his back. There among the various holy supplies were scraps of paper. Each one with a captured ink sprite on it. She grabbed the papers, crumpled them into her hand and she took several first aid crystals.
"Mercy!" The older priest held up his hands. "Whatever demon you're in the grips of child we can help."
"We should kill them." Guro said as he hauled the old man back in to the Alley. Sunset would be coming soon.
"Kill a priest and every Kami in a mile radius will be howling for your blood." Yaki said. A red stain was spreading from the priest Guro had cut down. Yaki squeezed a first aid crystal and dropped it on the wounded man's shoulder as she passed. She held the scraps of paper up to the elderly priest who watched her with cautious eyes. "Do you have more of these?"
The man nodded, offering his satchel without resistance. "You cannot hide your darkness in the light child. We will find you again. The hunters will come for you next."
The hunters? They're going to send the hunters after me! Yaki's voice screamed inside her head. She ignored the fizzing sensation as she took the satchel, keeping her face a mask.
The man flinched away, his eyes white and milky. "Great heavens my child. There is a Yozi in you. Can you not feel it?"
Kill him, Mother whispered from the back of Yaki's mind. Protect yourself and your family. Instead, she searched his bag and found more of her captured inksprites, seven in all.
"Its not too late," The man pleaded. "Come to the temple."
"Because that works so well!" Yaki threw the bag back into his face. She knew exactly what would happen at that temple. Priests would thrust a medical crystal at her and if that didn't cure her, they'd declare her unclean. Then depending on the priest, she'd be either enshadowed via branding her face or they'd try to dig the taint out of her body with knives. "Let’s go."
"You won't get far child. The Steward's eye is upon you now. It would be better for you to give yourself up to his mercy now." The priest repositioned himself to hold a first aid crystal to his injured leg.
Guro jerked his head toward the mouth of the alley as he wiped blood from his sword. Yaki followed him out into the bustle of the approaching evening. They joined the crowd, not speaking, drifting along in its current, not caring of its direction as long as it was away from the tavern. No one followed them that and Yaki kept close to the buildings, so she could not see the palace looming on the mountain, in case the old priest was being literal about the eye of the Steward. Eventually they stopped under an awning of a shop that didn't appear to have opened for a long time.
"Thank you for not killing any priests. That would have made this much harder." Yaki told Guro as they scanned the crowd.
"Killing a holy man always has consequences but I should have split the head of that old one for calling you unclean." Guro said as if he were talking about vegetables.
"He's not wrong." Yaki said.
"He is. What's in your chest is a wonder. It is even more beautiful than you are. The Lord's greatest work yet. It is the opposite of unclean, it is holy." Guro's voice rang with certainty.
Yaki considered arguing that a device that was both keeping her alive and slowly killing her at the same time could only be a diabolical in nature but decided it wasn't worth the effort. When you argue with a wall at least it is weathered by your breath. An argument with a fanatic only served to strengthen their beliefs. Instead, she leaned against the wall of the building behind her and watched the crowd pass by. No priests or hunters emerged from it. "We're going to have to try Gama's idea." She finally said.
"You really trust he won't sell you out?" Guro sighed.
"He won't." A scowled formed on her face, even if his idea worked, it wouldn't work forever. The Golden Hills was a tough city to hide in. Trade was carefully tracked, permits were required for any sort of long term residence and all the Kami in the city bowed to the absent Emperor and to a lesser degree the Steward. And what would the Steward do if he found out if Yaki of Madria had returned to his city? She doubted he'd kill her, although his first wife, Lady Crane, would argue for it. No but be put in a perfectly nice room in the palace and Locked away. He'd force her to tell him about Yaz'Noth one way or another and then Ishe would either die or worse.
"Let’s go find Gama." Yaki pulled her pendent from her mouth and pushed herself from the wall. They headed back the way they came, moving with caution.
Chapter 28
"You are to present this message directly to the Crystal Queen. Do not let anyone else read its contents. If any official attempts to collect it, remind them the interception of our private communications is punishable by death according the open skies treaty." The Steward presented the messenger in front of him with a sealed scroll. She stood a head taller than Madria in her blue captain's uniform. Pretty in a way his exiled Admiral had never been, her eyes flat and docile.
The captain bowed deeply and took the message with professional smoothness. "It will be done my liege." Then she striding out the door held open by Shuri. The Steward sighed as soon as the door closed, trying to stuff the specter of Madria back down into his into his mind. Two years and he still couldn't even look at a woman in the navy without mapping the Silver Fox onto them.
Ruler of the greatest nation on the face of the earth still pinning for the presence of a woman who'd nearly taken his head off in public. I am a fool. He told himself. He could invite her back, pardon her. But she'd have to apologize at least. And that will never happen. With huff of disgust at himself, he pushed himself back into his chair and did his best to look regal and in control. "Who is next Shuri?" he called.
"Hari of house Shibata." Shuri's soft voice filled cavernous throne room.
The Steward frowned, "Let the old man in." Quickly, he studied his face to a serene expression.
Shuri levered open the door and an elderly man walked with an aid of a staff. Shuri moved to assist him but he waved her away as he trekked into the room. He did not bow after he finally arrived in front of the Steward's throne. Instead he clung to his staff as if it were a mast in a storm, chest heaving.
"Did you..." the old man gasped, "have more stairs put in since last time?"
The Steward chuckled in spite of himself. "Yes, just for you Hari. Or you could use the lift like most do."
Hari waved away the notion, his milky eyes staring at a point over the Steward's shoulder. "We found this girl you spoke of, she's registered as Runaway Feather Song. Rented a house with her husband Soon Song. A husband who's decent with a blade. Took down my escort as if he were a rookie."
"I did not feel the Death." The Steward frowned, his gaze drifted down to the old priest’s leg. "Did he hurt you as well?"
"My boy's alright, the girl called off her goon and stabbed my leg from at least twenty paces away." Hari said. "You wouldn't happen to know of a sword that could do that would you?"
Cold crept through the Steward's guts. Of course, they both knew of only one rapier that could do that. "I will check the archives." He said.
"Girl's about the right age too." The priest said conversationally. "She's got som
ething in her. I could feel it burning without touching her. Whatever it is, she's still in control but I don't know for how long."
Nine hells Madria, what did you do to your daughter? The Steward nodded, "I want her alive."
"Of course. She was speaking to some Nishamura boys. They weren't entirely forthcoming about their discussions so we put one of them to the question."
The Steward suppressed a wince. He would hear about that from Nor Nishamura without a doubt. The man didn't give a rat's ass about his descendants until you poked one. "And?"
"She mentioned she's here on her mother's business to one of them. Whomever that might be." The old man's bushy eyebrows waggled.
"How many others know?" The Steward asked.
"Only I and my journal." Hari said. A journal that would be read in the event of his death.
"I want her alive and mostly unharmed. Tell no one of her identity."
"Of course my liege." Hari said, his slight smirk communicating, You owe me.
"Why don't you speak to Admiral Gray about that shipment of crystals House Shibata found before you travel home Hari. I'm sure he'll offer you a good cup of tea." The Steward said, keeping his voice light and casual as his stomach rolled.
"My sister found them, not I." The old man bowed and left the throne room with much lighter steps than when he had come in.
The Steward wanted nothing more than to command Shuri to grab him and put him under the harsh light of the truth crystal he loved so much. Hari Shibata occupied no official position either in his House or priesthood. Yet the man turned up maddeningly often. Now he'd have to field angry questions from House Yokoyama as to the origin of the "found" crystals. He had already decided to break their monopoly and allow Shibata to operate their own crystal gardens. However, he had expected to extract more from the suddenly ambitious House for the right.
He had stupidly exiled Madria entire family, if the girl was captured and identified, he'd be forced to execute her. "Right on cue Madria," The Steward muttered to himself. Is this some sort of test Madria? Do you expect me kill her and prove myself respectful of the laws? Or is it the opposite? Will you fly into a rage and cripple the last of the trade routes not controlled by Lyndon?
Dragon's Cage Page 14