by eden Hudson
“That took you ten thousand years,” Tsune said.
“But I did it.”
“According to the gossip, the Grandfather Spirit did it for you,” Kitsu said. “And you still had to drag yourself to him and beg to be sent to the mortal world after Ha-Koi.”
Raijin considered this. “If I reasoned with him once, then I should be able to do it again.”
“You’re not listening!” Kitsu barked. “There is no Grandfather Spirit anymore.”
“All the spirits who once served you serve the Whisperer now as akane,” Tsune said. “The Grandfather Spirit resisted for millennia, but eventually even he gave in to her corruption.”
“He’s the Great Akane now.”
Raijin’s mind leapt involuntarily back to the battle they had just fought against akane as tall as long spears, with jaws wide enough to snap a man’s arm off to the shoulder. And those giant beasts were not considered large enough to be the Great Akane.
“At the very least, I have to get through him,” he concluded. “If there’s no other way out, then that’s all I can do.”
Tsune stood. “To try would be to kill yourself.”
Gravely, Kitsu followed suit. “He’ll eat you alive and everything you know will belong to Misuru.”
Their mysterious weapons appeared in their hands.
“We can’t allow that.”
“We like our hides too much.”
The guai-ray bristled as the threat of death filled the corpse-strewn passage, radiating from the white fox twins. Raijin’s lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl. The guai-ray wanted to tear them apart for daring to challenge him, but Raijin reined the demon beast in. Barely.
“If you kill me, when I return to the cavern at the bottom of the hole, I’m likely to find an akane and let it consume me just to repay your betrayal. If you continue to work with me, however, there’s a chance that, together, we can defeat the Great Akane and escape without alerting Misuru.”
Kitsu scoffed. “A chance so small that it barely exists.”
“Better than your only other option,” Raijin said.
Tsune began to circle him.
Raijin spun to face that twin, placing his back against the dirt of the passage wall to keep Kitsu from flanking him. The guai-ray roared for him to attack them first, but he held it in check. This time, he had to wait no matter what it cost him. Death or life, it had to be the twins’ decision.
“Make a wise decision, Tsune,” he growled. “I’ve lost a lot of my desire to forgive down here and replaced it with a thirst for blood. Akane or fox, I don’t care which.”
With a disgusted grunt, Tsune dismissed the mysterious weapon and kicked an enormous akane corpse in the side. It puffed into smoke and blew away. The predatory threat rolling off the twins disappeared with the creature’s remains.
“Your time as a mortal has made you devious, Thunderer,” Tsune grumbled.
Raijin relaxed a touch. “Are you truly angry at me or are you irritated because you prefer to be the devious ones?”
Suddenly appearing by his side, Kitsu chuckled. “White foxes are capable of feeling more than one thing at a time.”
Chapter Twenty
MORTAL LANDS
From the Pilau Iri Fabric Row, Captain Singh flagged down a runner cart pulled by a boy around Koida’s age and covered in nearly as much dirt. They climbed in, and Singh gave the boy directions to the Breakwater he had mentioned to the clothier.
As they rumbled through the streets of the port city, Koida stared out from under the dirty shade, trying to take in all the sights. The buildings were built into the hills, and the thoroughfares all cobbled in stone. The streets zigzagged upward from the bustling businesses to a quieter area of lodging houses, eateries, and administrative offices. Far handsomer runner carts, lacquered in red, gold, and jade, many with elaborate wooden screens and swaying silk curtains, rushed through the streets, carrying hidden passengers.
“You’ve never been in such a wealthy area before,” Singh guessed.
In a way, that was true. The Sun Palace was far more lavish, and the beggar’s row in Boking Iri was little more than a rubbish heap. Koida gave a demure nod, allowing the captain to think he was correct.
“Looking and smelling like this, you’ll be treated as nothing better than trash, even while in my company,” Singh said. “We’ll order you a bath, comb your hair, then change you into these new robes. With enough polish, you may pass for a step or two above a street urchin.”
That seemed a bit harsh, but once again Koida remained silent. She wanted to ask him what sort of errands they were doing that required such handsome dress, but she doubted the captain would feel compelled to explain himself to a subordinate. The palace servants had always accepted her word as law, never asking for explanations from anyone above their station.
They arrived at the Breakwater, a towering manse of white stone surrounded by black iron gates. When Koida made to trail the captain inside, however, he stopped her, his long nose wrinkling in disgust.
“They’ll never allow you in the front looking like driftwood that just washed up. Go around back to the servant’s entrance and wait. I’ll send someone to fetch you.”
Koida bowed and did as she was told. Singh’s constant demeaning was beginning to scrape against a secret vanity she hadn’t realized she nurtured. She was Second Princess Shyong San Koida, Lilac of the Horned Serpent Valley, revered empire-wide for nothing more than her beauty. Was there really no trace of that left in her face? Or had it been a lie to begin with, nothing more than pretty words to assuage the ego of the worthless Ro-crippled princess?
These thoughts swirled around her mind like eddying currents in a flood until the rear door of the Breakwater opened and a tired-looking young woman leaned out.
“You the captain’s?” the woman asked, sticking out her chin at Koida.
“Yes.” After a moment, Koida remembered that she was supposed to be playing a servant, not a princess, but she couldn’t imagine a proper polite address for this woman. How did ranks work among commoners’ servants? “Yes...honored...aunt?”
The woman snorted and rolled her eyes. She stepped back and waved Koida inside.
A bath had been prepared in a small room near the kitchen, along with a set of cheap but fragrant oils and harsh soaps. The woman left Koida there to make use of them.
Koida stripped down and climbed into the crude wooden tub, shivering at the temperature. She wanted to rush through the process so she could get out of the cold water, but she forced herself to scrub away the layers of dirt staining her skin and clean and oil her hair until it shined.
A step above a street urchin indeed. She would show Singh.
The woman returned not long after Koida had climbed out and begun to dry herself with the threadbare linen left for the purpose.
“Your clothes,” she said, tossing the paper package to Koida before leaving once more.
Koida had never been forced to dress herself in anything but riding clothes, training clothes, and the Uktena furs, but after several attempts, she was able to figure out the proper layering and tying of the dress robes. With no other shoes, she slipped her feet back into her soft leather boots and wandered into the hallway, carrying her riding clothes.
Rough pink hands snatched the dirty shirt and pants from her.
“These go to the rubbish heap,” the serving woman said before Koida could protest. “Captain’s orders.”
“But I’ll need them when I return to the ship,” Koida said.
The serving woman shrugged. “Take it up with the captain. He’s awaiting you in his accustomed rooms.”
“Apologies, but I am not familiar with—”
“Up the stairs and to your left,” the serving woman said, as exasperated as if Koida had asked her to take on the duties of every servant in the city. “The Tiger in the Grass Suite.”
“Gratitude—”
The rear door slammed in her face.
Living lavaglass rippled under the skin of Koida’s left arm. She forced herself to breathe and focus on strengthening her Stone Soul. The sleeves of the dress robes she wore now were likely worth more than the life of a ship’s boy, and she had already delayed Captain Singh’s shore errands far too long. There would be no time to find another well-tailored robe if her moon broadsword ripped these to pieces.
Following the woman’s directions up the servant’s stairs, Koida found the pair of swinging doors painted in an elaborate gilt and lacquer scene of a tiger slinking through swaying grasses. She almost walked in without knocking as if these were her rooms, but remembered just in time that she was no longer one of the highest-ranking nobles in the empire. With her knuckles, she rapped politely as Batsai always had on her bedchamber door.
One door swung open and Captain Singh frowned down at her, his single brow furrowing in the center.
“I thought it was an army of soldiers hammering away out here,” he said. “Has no one ever taught you to scratch like a lady?”
“Apologies, Captain.”
He grunted. “More of those. Well, get inside.”
Koida ducked her head and slipped past the captain. The outer chamber of the suite was as lavishly decorated as the gilded door had been. Silken lounges and chairs lined the walls, and heavy draperies covered the tall windows, blocking stray drafts and holding out most of the sunlight.
The captain strode to a handsome wooden desk and took a seat, shuffling papers and leaving her in the center of the room awaiting orders.
A triptych of paintings done on glass panes, each as tall as a man, sat on the mantle above the narrow marble fireplace. Koida’s cheeks burned as her eyes focused on their subject matter. The paintings depicted naked men and women in the throes of ecstasy. She had read stories from the royal library that hinted at intercourse and instructional pieces that went into greater depth, but none of those had come with such detailed illustrations. There was very little left to the imagination.
“Never seen anything like it?” Captain Singh asked.
Koida stared down at the floor, avoiding the captain’s eyes.
“N-no, Captain,” she stuttered.
“No need to be ashamed of curiosity.” He set down his papers, fixing his eyes relentlessly on her. They seemed to bore through her skin.
Koida shifted uncomfortably, wishing he would look away.
“Rila tells me that you were your master’s favored concubine. I didn’t believe it until I saw you properly bathed and dressed. Tell me, was your master very old?”
Koida had no inkling of how to answer.
“I—he—no, Captain, he was no older than yourself,” she finished lamely.
“Perhaps an injury, then,” Singh said, turning back to his papers. “That would explain your innocence. I can’t see any other reason a man might withhold himself from one so beautiful.”
The compliment came strangely offhand, in that businesslike tenor the captain used when discussing their errands. Singh shuffled the papers once more, then picked up a charcoal and began writing.
“Captain, when will we leave to complete the shore errands?” Koida asked.
“I will be going out in a moment to see to this,” he said, nodding down at the papers. “You will wait here. I’ll send up a meal and some wine to keep you company until I return.”
“I’m not going to attend you?”
He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. “We’re staying at the Breakwater tonight, so you may as well make yourself comfortable. There are more detailed works of art in the bedchamber, and you’re welcome to try any of the powders or snuffs in the off-room. They’re all very well concocted and quite stimulating. The Breakwater buys them from the best apothecary in Pilau Iri.”
Koida swallowed and took a silent step sideways toward the door. “I thought you needed an attendant to carry things or...”
“The madam won’t allow you out of the Breakwater without my permission, so you’re better off not trying to leave.” Singh blew charcoal dust from the paper he’d just finished with, then folded it carefully and tucked it into his robes. He stood and finally turned to face her. “You’re well aware that you owe me a great deal for the kindnesses and special treatment I’ve shown you on the journey so far. You and your friends will continue to benefit from my generosity throughout the trip if you behave yourself tonight, and you’ll be promoted from ship’s boy to a simple passenger. The promotion includes accommodation in the finest bed aboard, in my quarters, and all luxuries thereof.”
All in that flat speech tone of a man conducting routine business. Koida couldn’t suppress a shudder. The conversation was so strange that her mind wouldn’t fully believe it was happening, though her skin seemed to want desperately to scuttle away.
“I refuse.” She forced the words out through a tightened throat. “I like working as ship’s boy,” she lied. “I don’t want a promotion. I want to keep my current position. Please. Captain.”
Singh strode to her side. She froze in place, her muscles going rigid enough that it felt like they would snap if she tried to move.
“I understand your anxiety, new as you are to this,” the captain said, cupping her cheek gently, though his tone remained the same. “Know that I will be sensitive to your inexperience. It may even interest you to know that your predecessor was as untouched as you are when we met, and in time, he killed himself for love of me.”
Koida’s heart thundered so hard in her chest that she felt lightheaded. Her flesh crawled, trying to get away from Singh’s touch, but she remained as still as death.
The captain nodded as if everything were in order, then left her side. A moment later, the door opened and closed.
A key scraped in the lock, then his bootsteps retreated down the corridor.
Koida let out a ragged breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.
“Vile trash,” she whispered. “If we were in Boking Iri, I would have the executioner hang your head on his tree for the crows to peck. Let the stray dogs fight over the rest of you in the street.”
In contrast to her brash words, shock rolled through Koida like the waves at sea, a violent shaking spreading from her heartcenter to her arms and legs.
Had she done something to invite this? Perhaps this was no more than the usual procedure for Singh and his ship’s boys. His eerie, detached tone certainly seemed to suggest that he considered this a commonplace arrangement.
The strange glint in Cook’s glare came back to Koida. Had the crotchety woman been trying to warn her what Singh had in mind? Trying to keep her on the ship and out of his reach? Why hadn’t Cook just told her of the danger? And Rila’s hateful smile—did she find this funny? Had Singh sent the quartermaster to the galley specifically to goad Koida into leaving?
Koida shook her head in frustration. She would get no closer to answers standing in this wolf’s den. She went to the window and threw open the heavy drapes. The one thing she knew for certain was that she would not be there when Singh returned.
Chapter Twenty-one
LAND OF IMMORTALS
The guai-ray remained alert and watchful as the white fox twins led Raijin back through the maze of tunnels. Though they weren’t happy, he sensed no deception and no further killing intent directed toward him. No killing intent at all, in fact. They met several akane along the way, both alone and in packs, but the twins refused to lift a finger to help.
“We’re sulking,” Kitsu explained as another of the huge, long-armed akane attacked.
Raijin laughed as he slipped under a claw-tipped swipe. Crackling ruby Ro flowed from his heartcenter and surrounded his fist. He slammed it into the akane’s unprotected side a split second before the creature’s claws tore into the tunnel walls. Dirt flew, pelting Raijin’s back and shoulders, but already he was behind the akane. He hadn’t managed to lose that stuttering motion or gain his second tier, but he was slowly gaining speed and strength in spite of the Land of Immortals’ punishing
environment.
“Sulk all you like,” he called to them, chopping the creature in the back of its bone-studded neck. It stumbled, stunned by the combination of the blow and the electricity. “I’ll finish these while you save your strength for the Great Akane.”
“That’s not funny,” Tsune called.
In spite of their complaints and sullen pouting, the twins led Raijin steadily onward until they reached the sinkhole where Raijin had first fallen into the pit.
The question was in his mouth, poised to be asked, but Kitsu forestalled it with a terse, “We’re almost there.”
Raijin followed them across the cavern. The splatter of rainwater on stone made him uncomfortably aware of the blood and gore that coated him from head to foot. He’d grown used to the filth, almost forgotten about it, but hearing the water made him wish there was time to stand in the downpour once again and wash it away. The twins showed no signs of being willing to wait, however. They had already stepped into Raijin’s familiar tunnel on the opposite wall.
“This tunnel is collapsed ahead,” he told the twins as he caught up to them.
“We’re not going that far,” Tsune said.
They came to the first branch, where the increasing narrowness had forced Raijin back. The twins turned into it without comment.
Raijin hesitated. He could feel the movement of air currents coming from ahead, but there was no way of knowing how tight this route would become before he made it to the end. What if he got stuck? What if the twins were leading him there to trap him? Their signatures showed no signs of deception, but perhaps madness could mask intent at times.
If they were deceiving him, then he would just have to deal with the consequences when they came. For the time being, he had no other options.
Raijin stepped into the narrow shaft behind Kitsu. Already it was too small for the twins to walk abreast. He extended both arms and traced his hands along the walls. The angle in his bent elbows grew sharper and sharper with every step. He stooped until his face turned toward the floor and his shoulders scraped the ceiling. The packed dirt beneath his fingers, which could have been dug out if it became necessary to free someone from a tight spot, gave way to unyielding stone.