The Phoenix of Kiymako

by Ashley Capes

  “My name is ‘Never’, remember?”

  “Of course.”

  Never hung his head with a sigh; the man had no intention of using it. “Go ahead.”

  “When you meet the Great Phoenix, if it isn’t presumptuous of me, I would like you to ask for her Blessing. My cause is just but it would set my mind at ease.”

  “When?”

  “Yes.” He offered a calm smile.

  Never shrugged. “Very well, I won’t argue with your conviction. If I meet the Great Phoenix I’ll ask for a blessing for you.”

  He went to his knees once more before rising. “Thank you, Chosen One.”

  Etsu returned, speaking softly. Never followed her out and across the camp, heading to a small tent. She gave a nervous smile and gestured within. “I hope this is comfortable.”

  “It’s fine, please don’t worry about me,” Never said.

  She nodded and hurried back toward Wanatek’s pavilion. Never slipped inside and lay on the borrowed blankets. How soon was morning? If his Amouni blood offered the ability to see through darkness along with its other dubious gifts, he’d already be on the road. From memory, Takbisu was over a week around the forest. A boat across the lake would be quicker. Is that what Wanatek had in mind?

  It was more than hope – it was a strange conviction that told him Ayuni was the sister he sought. From where such certainty came he did not wish to question but it was almost as if his very blood was trying to tell him he had almost found her.

  He had to trust it until he was proven right or wrong.

  But would Ayuni still be in the city? The season was right... but more pressing... was she well? And just what were the monks using her for? If it was her blood and the exchange of knowledge, like the Amouni of old, that would have been a chore but potentially not so damaging as any number of other unsavoury things they might be up to.

  Had she tried to leave already?

  Who watched her and under what conditions did she travel? It seemed the easiest time to free her, compared to breaking into the temple. Not that he wouldn’t try. If she was even there. If she was still being ‘used’ and if the girl Wanatek had seen was truly Ayuni. Never muttered a curse. If, if, if.

  “Sweet Gods Above, how am I meant to sleep?”

  ***

  Never paced within the tree line.

  Only Wanatek and Muka had made the journey north to the edge of Takbisu Lake; it glittered between the trunks like a pristine field empty of tree or shrub, just an expanse of deep blue. Stands of young bamboo were visible near the shore, but it was mostly clear – save for the small figure of Muka as he rowed toward them.

  The city of Takbisu was still well and truly beyond sight but knowing it was close was enough to stop Never adding a stream of curses beneath his breath as he paced.

  “See? Muka nears, trust him,” Wanatek said.

  “Let’s hope that’s a sailboat – I’d hate to have to row the whole way.” Never stopped to lean against a tree, folding his arms and tapping a finger against his bicep.

  “You worry about the temple.”

  “A little. But your help has been invaluable.” The rebel leader, along with others no doubt, had sacrificed sleep to create disguises, both for the road and for the possibility of infiltrating the temples. He could not carry the clothing in his own pack – that was still in the Green Leaf Inn but Wanatek was going to retrieve it for him, thankfully. But all disguises aside, his accent would likely give him away so Muka would have had to do most of the talking.

  Still, it was more than Never had expected.

  “It is our pleasure, Chosen One.”

  Never didn’t bother correcting him – he’d already tried twelve times on their trek north – instead, he asked a question that had been weighing upon him. “In your time with the temple, did you get to know many of your fellow monks? I know there are so many, but this man would have held some manner of rank.”

  “I believe so, why?”

  “Because when I first arrived in Kiymako, I visited a fishing village east of Najin and met an old monk. He led me astray; it nearly cost me my life.”

  Wanatek straightened. “His name?”

  “Hiruso.”

  The rebel leader drew in a breath. “Be wary. Brother Hiruso is a dangerous man – perhaps more than a man, at that.”

  “How so?”

  “Hiruso is the Head of the Temples, the Hand of the Phoenix. He can commit acts that may trouble even someone Chosen as you. He leads a powerful faction that influences many, even the Divine Throne. It is my belief that he would not wish to see Amouni blood on Kiymako soil unless it had been spilled.”

  Never clenched a fist. Then the bastard had sent him to the Sundered Road to be killed. “I have to wonder what he was doing so far from the capital?”

  “I cannot say. His motives are obtuse at the best of times.” A slight frown marred his brow. “Perhaps he has come so far south to watch me, perhaps to continue to oversee the closing of the harbour. Or perhaps he was here for you.”

  “Me?”

  He shook his head. “I cannot say. He is enigmatic, and I fear the temple does not truly understand him in any event.”

  “Wonderful; a new enemy.” If the man was so unpredictable, so powerful, who did he answer to? Could he have known Never would land near that village, and been prepared? One thing Never was now certain of, Hiruso knew exactly where to find Ayuni.

  “Not if you avoid him as I suggest.”

  Muka had grown large enough to see that his boat was a small sloop with a single sail. A rising wind was slowing him, but he would arrive soon enough. “Ready?” Wanatek asked.

  “Very much so.”

  He followed the rebel leader from the trees and onto the shore, his feet sinking in the sandy earth a little. No pier had been erected here, so far from any villages, so Never and Wanatek waded into the cool water to help haul the sloop up onto the beach.

  Never loaded his new pack and provisions into the boat while Muka and Wanatek spoke quietly. Wanatek placed a hand on the bigger man’s shoulder. “The Goddess watches over me, worry not.”

  Muka’s expression was not one of confidence but he returned to the boat and helped push it into the shallows before leaping inside. Never joined him, leaving only Wanatek standing waist-deep in the water.

  “Seek Niswan, she will help you,” he called.

  Never waved his thanks.

  Muka was making small adjustments to the sail, which was collecting the rising breeze. So far, he had not spoken. In fact, the last words he’d directed to Never had been during their scuffle on the bridge.

  “Shall I row first?” Never asked.

  The man nodded.

  Never took each oar and arranged them across his knees. He paused before fitting them to the locks. “From what I could tell, Shika doesn’t know enough to trouble Wanatek.”

  He glanced at Never a moment. “Thank you. My concern is actually more for Lord Wanatek – his boldness can be both a blessing and a curse.”

  “He’s not planning a coup, however, is he?”

  “Not as Shika would expect,” Muka replied, but did not offer any more.

  Never didn’t press. “I appreciate you helping me. It wasn’t my intent to take you from your purpose in Najin.”

  “That I know. I will help you because Wanatek wills it.” He hesitated. “And because I cannot deny, after seeing your wings, that you are more than you appear.”

  “I only want to find my sister.”

  “If she is the young lady Wanatek believes her to be, then I will do what I can to help you.”

  “Thank you, Muka.” Never dipped the oars into the water. His first few strokes were a struggle as he didn’t find rhythm quickly, but the breeze assisted and they began to make good speed.

  “How long to T
akbisu?” he asked during a moment of rest. The lake stretched on, only one shore visible to his left. Takbisu was northeast but the exact distances were unclear, since the map he’d seen had been written in Kiymako.

  “We should reach the shore tonight if we row through.”

  “Can we dock safely?”

  “I believe so. In any event, it will be a fine test of your disguise.”

  “Comforting,” Never said with a grin. “What of Niswan? How do we find her?”

  “Her store is across from the sun dial in the Fabric Quarter.”

  “She’s a tailor?”

  “The best in the city.”

  Never resumed rowing. “Wanatek didn’t explain how she could help.”

  “She will know if your sister has been in the city recently. It is her responsibility to create the garments for temple.”

  “Garments?”

  “I do not understand myself, but Wanatek tells me that is one of her duties. She must make special clothing for the temple every spring.”

  Oddly ominous – yet he could not establish why. “Then I would very much like to speak with her.”

  Chapter 13

  Moonlight rippled across the lake’s surface, casting everything a cool blue. The other boats and ships, most with sails furled and few with glowing lights, rocked gently where they were docked. Takbisu Harbour was a mixture of old stone and freshly cut wood, rope leading from the ships to mooring posts, looking not unlike dark spider webs sagging beneath the weight of the night.

  “Remember to let me speak,” Muka whispered.

  Never nodded as he rubbed at his aching back, though the man may not have seen it as they climbed from the sloop and started along the pier. The city was quiet this late, even at the waterfront. What it lacked in music or voices, it made up for with the scent of old fish guts and seaweed. No wall greeted them as they neared the end of the boardwalk, but a lamp glowed over a doorway to a guard post, revealing a guard.

  The man wore a tyrant and moved to block their path as they approached.

  “Please state your purpose.”

  “Returning to temple,” Muka said.

  The man gave a nod, having already seemed to have noted their temple robes, and waved both within. Never strode beside Muka up the paved street, passing through shadows between large buildings – warehouses mostly, it seemed.

  “Was it really that easy?” Never asked.

  “He had little reason to doubt us,” Muka said. “Monks are rarely challenged, since they are the final authority on many matters. However, he will inform the nearest temple of our entry as a matter of routine.”

  “Will that cause us any problems?”

  “Had I given a specific temple, possibly.”

  He nodded slowly. “So the monks report in to their own temples like a military organisation?”

  “Somewhat. For anyone attempting to find us after the guard’s report, they must search all temples – and there are two dozen in Takbisu – and then the streets.”

  “Seamless.”

  “For now. If we are challenged directly, things may turn ugly.” He stopped before a narrow opening between two buildings – both inns, it seemed. “This will save some time.”

  He led Never through the darkness, where they encountered none of the normal refuse Never might have expected from Marlosi or Hanik back streets. Once a cat gave a hiss as they disturbed it with their passage but nothing else of note occurred until they exited into a tiny square that led to rear doors of several buildings.

  A well waited in the quiet, and nearby a dark figure stood with a pipe. Smoke lifted gently, seeming to gather the moonlight.

  Muka did not greet him and nor did the fellow offer any words of his own.

  They travelled through several backstreets in a similar way, which prevented Never from getting a real sense of Takbisu. Even when they stopped at the rear of what Muka assured him was Niswan’s store, Never couldn’t find any difference between it and the other buildings – especially as the moon was now hidden from view.

  “I fear I must wake her and she will not be pleased,” Muka said, though the tone of his voice suggested that he would not be too troubled by it. Perhaps they were old friends.

  He rapped on a heavy door until a light in a room on the second floor appeared.

  Soon after, the thud of feet on stairs followed and then the click of a key in a lock. The door jerked open, lamplight revealing a woman wearing a deep frown. Her hair had been pulled up into a topknot, revealing the shaven part of her head. She held a serious-looking baton in one hand.

  “If you don’t stop that—”

  “Good evening, Niswan,” Muka said.

  Her expression became almost comical in its surprise. “Muka?” She leapt into his arms and Never noted that her feet were bare. Then she stepped back and slapped the warrior, not too hard, but enough to express her displeasure it seemed. “You couldn’t wait a few more hours for dawn?”

  “It’s urgent.”

  She turned her gaze to Never, eyes widening. “Who’s this?”

  “My name is Never, forgive me for interrupting your rest,” he said. He lowered his voice. “Wanatek believes you can help me.”

  Niswan gave him a look, then waved her weapon with a sigh. “Then you’d better come in, Never.”

  She led them to a darkened kitchen, stirring the flames within an oven and lighting a lamp. Herbs hung from the roof beams and pots too, but it was the table that caught his eye. It was covered in pieces of cloth and rolls of thread, a swatch of needles gleaming in the light.

  “There’s only two chairs, so one of you is standing,” she said as she took the nearest, setting her weapon down to rub at her eyes. “And this better be good, Muka. I was having a spectacular dream; a rich client had left their purse behind and it was full of gold crescents. Full. I was on my way to the upper markets to buy –”

  “It is.” Muka gestured for Never to sit as he answered.

  “Wanatek tells me you are the best seamstress in Takbisu and that you create special clothing for someone who visits the temple,” Never began.

  She nodded. “He’s underestimating me, but the other thing is true. What does it matter?”

  “Are you making anything now?”

  “I am – the usual robe. It’s for a young woman, it’s mostly pinks and white. Sometimes I add a rose trim.” She paused. “I don’t think it’d fit you, stranger.”

  More luck! Perhaps Pacela was guiding his steps after all – about time. He grinned. “Nor I. When will you deliver it?”

  She leaned back in the chair, looking from Never to Muka. “What is this about? I’m not interested in anything that will lose me that contract. The temple pays well. And swiftly.”

  “That won’t happen,” Never said. “Information is help enough – it’s up to me to free her.”

  Niswan chuckled. “You’ve got guts – no brains, but guts at least.”

  “He could probably do it, Ni,” Muka said.

  “You think so? Then you’re as stupid as him,” she said. “Whoever I make that robe for is surrounded by half a dozen bodyguards at all times and no foreigner is getting into any temple. And the monks send her between temples in a steel box, like a cage but with only a tiny window. I’ve seen it once. You think you can deal with all of that?”

  “I have to,” Never said. “She’s my sister.”

  Niswan narrowed her eyes. “Now you’re joking, right?”

  “You tell me. Have you seen her?”

  “Once. Last year, during delivery.” Niswan scratched at her hair. “She was weary-looking; I’ve never seen anyone look that exhausted. Maybe her skin was a little darker than ours but I assumed she was from north but now that you ask me... she might have had something of a Marlosi look about her.”

  “Her name is
Ayuni and she’s my half-sister. She’s a prisoner,” Never said. He kept his voice firm. “I am going to free her.”

  Niswan spread her hands. “Honestly, I hope you do... but I can’t see how.”

  “Just tell me when she’s leaving; I can manage the rest.”

  “Generally, the morning I deliver – which is three days from now, actually.” She yawned.

  “Perfect. One more question, what is strange about the robe you make?”

  “Oh. That, the temple always wants it to be waterproof, which is odd because the process ruins the silk in the end.”

  Never clenched a fist, keeping it beneath the table.

  Waterproofing meant blood. For anyone else it would have been a protection against the rain but Ayuni was Amouni. They were using her blood somehow. That was why when Niswan had seen her in the morning, she was exhausted.

  Bastards.

  The monks were bleeding her... but for what?

  Chapter 14

  Never spent most of the next day hidden in Niswan’s kitchen, letting Muka collect any supplies they needed and undertake preliminary scouting, both around the ‘Great’ Temple and the roads in and out of the city. Niswan couldn’t recall which direction the steel cage had been heading in when she’d seen it, but she thought north.

  Which probably meant it had been on its way to Mondami. According to his host, good roads led to the capital through open fields for the most part. Few opportunities for ambush.

  Footsteps in the hallway approached. Never looked up from his bowl of diced fish.

  Niswan appeared, her hair neater today, but her expression troubled. “You have to leave.”

  He stood. “Is someone here?”

  “Not any more but I just had a visitor – the temple wants the dress today. I think they’re leaving earlier than usual; I’ve sent for Muka.”

  “Has he returned to the city already?”

  “I hope so. My messenger is starting with the Divine Temple.”

  “And you haven’t delivered the dress yet?”

  “Not yet. Why?”

  “Maybe Muka and I should escort you.”

  She folded her arms. “I’m not going to agree to that; it puts me in too much danger. Stick with your other plan.”