Dragon's Siege

by Daniel Potter

“I don’t think so. The magistrate tells us of new arrivals to the garden,” he said.

  Yaki nodded and opened her mouth as if to speak.

  “I don’t work in the garden. I’m looking around.” Ishe flung her tone into petulance. “I’m allowed!”

  “I doubt that. I doubt quite a bit,” the man said.

  “So does she!” Ishe pointed at Yaki. “So we’re going to see the magistrate right now. Want to come?” Ishe said.

  The man’s brows went up, and his hand drifted down to rest on his katana. “Oh, really? This will be good. Miss Harune loves disruptions.” His attention shifted to Yaki. “And I don’t recognize you, cousin.”

  “She’s the damn bitch that followed me all the way from the power grove!” Panic propelled words out of her mouth while her heart seemed to try to bury itself in her intestines. What had she been thinking? Waltzing in there and thinking nobody would notice them? Yaki could have pulled it off with a flirtatious smile and fluttered lashes, but nobody ever gave Ishe the benefit of the doubt. One look at the scar that split her upper lip, and hands moved toward their wallets or swords.

  The man did not seem terribly convinced. “And which is the power grove?”

  Ishe rolled her eyes in a dramatic fashion, trying to recall what Xiy had told them about the layout. The medical crystals were manufactured in the same artificial cavern as the power crystals. “The one with the dragon on the door.” Those had been Xiy’s words precisely.

  That mollified the man ever so slightly. He eased his hand away from the quick-draw position on his sword. “Fine, we’ll see what Miss Harune thinks of your little story. Crystals are eating your memories if you think you can wander around.

  “That’s what you think!” Ishe huffed.

  He turned, starting to lead them toward the exit of the courtyard, giving Ishe a moment to exchange a glance with Yaki. She stroked the inner arm of her robe, showing Ishe that she held her shortened rapier inside of her sleeve. The coldness of Yaki’s single open eye told Ishe the rest: the same cold in Mother’s eyes before they took a ship that hadn’t surrendered.

  A decision crystallized in Ishe’s mind. The path to the door stood open. If Yaki and Ishe ran for it now, they could make it outside empty-handed. Or they could press on with trickery, hoping against hope that Ishe could bluff her way through. It would result in blood, either theirs or that of the men and women there. People, Ishe reminded herself, she wanted to save from the dragon. Her displeased patron would harry them the entire way.

  Surely, getting through this would be worth a little bit of herself. “Don’t worry,” she whispered to Yaki, “I’m the Coyote of the gentle wind and the distracting scents.”

  As Yaki’s mouth dropped open in surprise, Ishe felt the sensations of storm reawaken as if they had never been locked away. For a moment, she felt her own head as a mask, hiding a long, sensitive nose and large ears that strained for the faintest of noises. As Ishe hurried to fall in step with the guard, the sensation faded. But she still noticed so many new things about him. The wind helpfully carried his scent to her, a complex multilayer cake of past and present soaked through with his own sweat on this warm summer day, doubly so, since the man sat beneath the sun and a sun crystal. Her mind sorted through the recent scents. A tang of excitement lay on the top of pile. She hadn’t needed the nose of a coyote to see that, but there was no trace of anger. All he wanted was something different from sitting in that chair.

  As they passed between the guards and into the fortress’s main courtyard, Ishe stepped a half-step closer to the guard and whispered, “It’s hot under there, isn’t?”

  “Yes.” The man paused as he looked over the bustling courtyard of the Yokoyama grove fortress. The stone path they stood on led to a circular area in the center of the green, over which a small airship hovered, Lazy Lion. Only about twice the size of the skiff they had hidden a few miles away, yet infinitely more impressive. Its sails were lacquered with the proud yellow of House Yokoyama, contrasted with deep blacks. A carved lion roared from its bow, backed up by four small cannons that jutted from ports along its side. Sleek. A crystal transport. Now, something like that would be an ideal start to a piracy career.

  “I bet an ice crystal would be nice,” Ishe said. A strange thread in her mind told her to keep the guard saying yes to her, no matter about what, precisely.

  A squat three-story building stood in front of the airship. They began to move toward it—the main hall, according to Xiy. It housed most of the sleeping quarters for the workers. The guards slept in rows of tents behind it, as it was a recent addition. The top floor housed the offices from where actual members of the Yokoyama house managed the entire thing. Directly across the fortress lay one of the two actual crystal groves. Housed in a stone dome that had been sculpted with specialized earth crystals, it looked vaguely like an egg that had been half-buried. Off to its left lay the second one. According to Xiy, one housed the elemental crystals: earth, fire, wind, and ice, the other, the more difficult-to-grow batches of concept crystals. Xiy had said they made power, medical, crop, and sun crystals within that one.

  “Yeah,” the guard said, “it is a hot job.”

  “Wouldn’t have to be a big one, either,” Ishe said, her eyes on the groups of people threading between the ship and the secure grove. A group of six men was guiding a sledge that carried a single crate on its platform, clearly something very valuable on it. Ishe’s eyes went to the walls. At the top of the towers in the four corners of the fortress she could make out the muzzles of cannons pointing up to the sky. Lion could probably climb out of their limited range before they could pop off a shot. If they had zero warning. “We could take the long way to the office. It looks like Miss Harune is real busy at the moment.

  The guard squinted at the stairway, where a woman in a yellow robe stood in a half-circle of people. “Is that her?” Frowning, he cast a questioning glance at Yaki, who shrugged. “Maybe we’ll wait until after the launch. Won’t be long now.” Less hurried, the three of them walked toward the elemental grove.

  Suppressing a grin, Ishe knew how to get rid of the guard. She searched the pattern of moment for someone, anyone out of place. A few stragglers here and there had stopped their work to watch the airship load. One man, a gardener by the look of it, stood, a short rake clutched in two hands.

  She tapped the guard on the shoulder.

  “Yes?” He turned.

  “Hand cannons ain’t allowed, right?” Ishe asked, keeping her eyes on the innocent gardener.

  “Of course not. They could set off a chain reaction,” he said, his brow furrowed with concern.

  “Then why does that creepy guy have one?” Ishe pointed. Reaching down inside her shirt, she grabbed the grip of her own hand cannon and twisted it so it pointed backward.

  The guard squinted hard, stretching his neck toward the indicated man like a turtle. “Creepy guy?”

  Ishe pulled the trigger and manage to shout “Get—” before the shell exploded against the inner wall of the fort. The cold breath of the pent-up winter blew over the three of them as Ishe finished: “—down!”

  The guard glanced back at the six-foot-wide blossom of ice that now hung on the black stone, not more than fifteen feet away.

  “INTERLOPER!” he screamed, drew his sword, and charged across the field at the poor gardener. “SABOTEUR!

  Other guards quickly began to converge on the man, who dropped his rake and began to run away.

  Ishe didn’t see his destination because Yaki grabbed her hand and nearly dislocated her finger as she jerked her toward the air ship.

  “Come!” Yaki growled.

  “What am I, a dog?” Ishe protested as she hurried after her sister. Never-the-less, Ishe now saw the same opportunity that Yaki had. Everyone’s eyes were rooted on the chase, including the four people standing on the deck of the airship. Crates most likely full of crystals simply stood there, waiting to be loaded. Now or never.

  Yaki could simply
sense which one had medical crystals it, snatch one, and then make for the door. They were nearly there before Ishe realized Yaki wasn’t heading for the crates.

  “Yaki, what are you doing?” Ishe asked with growing horror.

  But her sister simply shot her a shark-like grin and bolted for the airship.

  “Oh, nine hells!” Ishe swore, and tore off in Yaki’s wake.

  They were up the gangplank as the small crew began to turn around. Yaki targeted a burly man wearing the captain’s hat, leapt into the air, and slammed both boots into his chest. He flipped over the railing and disappeared from view. Ishe had no time to think, charging up behind her sister, the three focusing their bewildered stares on Yaki as she kicked herself up from the ground.

  The second crewman didn’t realize Ishe existed until her fist hooked into his temple. He crumpled as if the strike had pulverized every bone in his body. The two remaining men managed to get their swords out, for all the good it did them. Ishe snatched up one of the loose crates and tossed it at a crewman. The man actually tried to parry a crate. The snap of bone served him right. Yaki handled the last with similar efficiency. Ishe turned to see him arcing over the railing.

  They traded a single glance, and a wordless agreement passed between them. Ishe snatched up the discarded sword as Yaki jumped down through the open hatch in the middle of the deck. Six lines secured Lion to the ground.

  Ishe tried not to worry as a surprised scream bubbled up from below decks as she swung the sword, cleaving the through the lines one by one. The deck had begun to list as the collective attention of the fortress finally came down on her. Ishe ducked beneath the railing as the first salvo of crossbow bolts whipped over her head or thudded into the side of the boat.

  Too late for them. A manic laugh escaped her as she felt the liftwood beneath her feet start to vibrate in tune with a growing hum. There were so many reasons why they shouldn’t be doing this. “I really am a coyote, because this is mad,” Ishe muttered to herself before leaping across the deck and cutting the second-to-last line. The deck beneath her pitched up, sending crates of possibly very explosive crystals sliding down the deck.

  “Still got a tether!” Ishe shouted, grabbing the ship’s railing as the deck continued to climb to the vertical. Planting her boots against the deck, Ishe prepared herself to slide. As she started to let go, the line snapped. The bow of the airship pitched up violently, throwing Ishe back down to the deck.

  A rapid thap thap thap of crossbow bolts struck wood.

  “You’re welcome, daughter mine!” Coyote grinned from a sitting position next to her.

  Ishe opened her mouth to say something, but the deck lurched up against her.

  Coyote tossed his head back and shouted, “Glory to House Shibata!” then burst into peals of laughter as the acceleration increased; the towers swiftly disappeared from view, leaving only the mountains for reference.

  “Why House Shibata?” Ishe asked.

  “Stirring the political pot a little.” Coyote grinned wider. He wore a man’s skin at the moment, dark blue pants and long salted-black hair. “Thought my favorite could use a little help.”

  As she looked at him, Ishe felt less human; her phantom ears, nose and whiskers all twitched at once. Ishe slapped both hands against her face. When her palms met skin, she slumped with relief.

  “Now is not the time for determining how pretty you are,” Coyote chided, “Probably want to do something about all those cannons they’re pointing at you.”

  Ishe got to her feet, moving instinctively toward the pilot station; Lazy Lion was a huge ship for two people, but she’d make it work. The cannons wouldn’t be able to fire directly over the yard, but the wind would blow them off course, sail or no sail. Pulling a lever, she engaged the ship’s small propeller. No control for a rudder; she’d need to unfurl a sail to steer.

  “I could have done this one my own if you hadn’t woken up that guard,” Ishe grumbled as she as followed the rigging with her eyes, mapping out the process to deploy the smallest of ship’s two deck-mounted sails.

  “It’s bad luck to deny who you are, daughter. Causes accidents to happen. I can’t imagine why you insist doing anything without me. I make you so much better.” Coyote made no move to assist with the sail, his grin showing far more teeth than should have fit in a human mouth.

  “Stay out of my head, Coyote.” Ishe yanked on a line and the boom swung down from the mast, unfurling a bright yellow sail.

  “You’re cleverer than you look, but you charged in. You need help thinking around problems instead of through them.” Coyote peered over the side. “Whoops. Lecture over! Heeeere they come.”

  An earth shell streaked up a hundred yards off the port side and exploded in a flash of sickly green light. In that blink, the old god disappeared. They were still rising; Yaki probably planned to put them in the clouds. There, the wind cut northwest, and that was good enough. They’d tack across the Spine and circle back around to their base, perhaps waiting till dark.

  Three more shells exploded below the ship. Slower cannon teams. Sloppy. They’d be at the cannon’s maximum range by now. The air tasted thin and chill. As Ishe tied off the rope and let it go, she looked down. Two smaller craft were rising from the grove after them, little more than souped-up cargo sledges, each packed with half a dozen men. Their overworked power crystals shone like tiny stars, a useless and perhaps fatal gesture. Already, the winds had caught them as they reached their maximum altitude hundreds of feet below.

  With a sigh, Ishe looked to the horizon, and horror froze her to the spot.

  “Yaki! Get up here!” Ishe shouted.

  Chapter Six

  Through the crystals the gods came back to the world. No god has ever said where they had gone or why they abandoned the ancestors of the ancients.

  Seek Fire, Chief of the Turtle Clan of the Low Rivers Tribe, Lorekeeper

  Yaki smiled at her new friend. Lazy Lion’s power crystal glowed with eagerness to please; she had named it Poe. It had laughed with joy as it attempted to make Lion meet the stars. About the size of Yaki’s torso, it was oversized for the ship; a crystal half its size would have done for Lazy Lion. Poe had been radiating boredom when Yaki shoved aside the old man who had been tending her. Thank the Death Panther that he had pulled a knife on her. Neither of these things were why Yaki smiled.

  The hold stank of sweet gold. As soon as Ishe got the ship away from the grove, she’d ransack the scattered crates and barrel strewn around the hold and find herself a meal.

  Till that moment, Poe and Yaki were having a distracting conversation about going up and down while chatting with the more amicable breezes. Poe didn’t let Yaki get many thoughts in edgewise, but Yaki at least enjoyed the ease of the empathic communication.

  Yet even between that and the effort to hold the hunger at bay, the guilt leaked in as the old man’s blood pooled around her boots. Not for the man himself but guilt for not feeling particularly guilty about him.

  I thought I loved you, Mitsuo said from the dark corner of her mind where the ghosts resided.

  “Not fair,” she grumbled, thoughts drifting from Poe’s babbling. Mitsuo had no right to haunt her; he wasn’t dead, and he’d driven a sword through her eyeball. She should be haunting him, like Suiko in the Emerald Lovers. But no, nothing romantic about drinking poison and gaining the strength to throw a man three times her size over a railing. She hadn’t known she could do that until after she’d done it. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth and against the roof of her mouth; everything seemed in the right place, and moisture came into her mouth as she swallowed. Yet her spittle seemed to be more vicious now, an oily quality to it. Another discovery to file away as her body drifted away from human, following after her appetite.

  That hunger had been the real reason Yaki had started scheming to steal the ship as soon as she scented it. Besides, no other feasible exit plan had presented itself. The earth crystals in her pocket might have gotten them th
rough a wall, but then it would have been a footrace between them and the guards, unless Ishe managed to trick them. And where the hell did Ishe learn to fast-talk like that? Yaki had been certain Ishe would simply hit the man. And what about being the Coyote of something or other? Mother had worshiped him yes but had never taken his name.

  “Yaki! Get up here!” Ishe’s voice came through the hatch.

  Yaki groaned; were they in the clouds yet? Should she have Poe ease off the flow? Both questions Yaki managed to embody in a single roar: “WHAT?!” and she even did it without having to fold her mind like a pretzel to remember the sound. Perhaps mastery of single syllable would soon be attained!

  “Yaki, I need help!” This time the shout was punctuated with a boom of Ishe stamping on the deck.

  “Come! ING!” Yaki shouted back, cutting Poe down to about half of her max output. Yaki felt herself lighten briefly as she stepped toward the ladder and climbed.

  On the deck, Ishe knelt at a crank located at the front of the ship.

  Ishe gestured toward the mechanism’s twin on the other side. “Take the portside one; we have to deploy the side sails together.”

  The wind gusted, blowing Yaki’s long braid out in front of her as she walked across the deck toward the mechanism. Stopping midway, she shot Ishe a look that hopefully communicated her confusion. The cranks would deploy Lion’s wing sails, which would providing a speed boost but only if the wind blew in the general direction you wanted to go. The wind blew north, towards the city; the wounded crew lay to the south.

  Ishe bared her teeth and gestured toward the city. They were close enough to see the walls and Steward’s palace looming over it from the mountainside. Airships, most mere dots at this distance, were swarming up from the webwork of docks that extended out from the hill of the wharf district. Several of the airships were so large that the others were more tiny floating sausages at this range. Those would be the Steward’s Behemoth ships. She counted four of them. Scanning the landscape, she spotted the fifth, the one that had hunted them last night; it still floated over the wreckage of Scale, maybe twenty miles away, but its anchors were up, two massive side propellers working to turn it back toward the city.