Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  Eyes on the letter, I smiled. “Cousin, you do not need to stand on formality.”

  “As you command, Kaiya.” He flashed a devilish grin, his eyes searching mine.

  His sarcasm was infectious. I covered a giggle with my fingers, and then pointed at the paper in his hand. “Is that…?”

  He looked down at the paper and then held it up. Elephant left three. “I am playing a game of blind chess. This is my latest move.”

  My heart sunk. Instead of a letter from Hardeep, it was part of a confusing game. Chess made little sense to me, but Father and Kai-Long bonded over it. “Are you winning?”

  “Yes, though it wouldn’t be evident.” His lips twitched. He cast a glance at the imperial guards, then leaned in and whispered—practically mouthed: “I have a plan to get you out of the palace.”

  I stole a glance back at my guards, who showed no sign of having heard him. Thank the Heavens for my good ears. I held up a hand to stay the guards, and then shuffled a little farther down the path.

  At a safe distance away, I turned to face him. “During a reception in honor of my brother’s wedding? And...what about General Lu?”

  Kai-Long’s grin stretched from ear to ear, and he suppressed a chuckle. “When I got back to the palace, General Lu was storming out. His eyes were red-rimmed, like he’d been crying. The servants and officials all say he did not even report to the Ministry of Appointments.”

  The betrothal remained up in the air. Maybe the general had given up on marriage. Hopefully, someone would tell me something before tonight. “Still, I’m supposed to be sitting at the head of the room, next to Kai-Wu and his bride. Someone will notice my absence.”

  If Kai-Long shook his head any more, it might wobble off. “Trust me. Old Hong there—” he tilted his head toward the palace official still on the veranda, who ogled us and wrung his hands “—has agreed to help. It took a little convincing. I also called in several favors among the young lords and palace staff.”

  I searched his eyes and found but sincerity. Before coming of age and being assigned as a diplomat, Kai-Long had virtually grown up in the palace, and had always been close to me and Tian. More than once, he had kept us from getting into trouble. Of course he would have my best interests at heart. Still… I shook my head. “It risks too many people. It will betray Father’s trust in you.”

  Kai-Long cast his gaze down. In shame, no doubt, considering Father’s fondness for him. Before Kai-Long had been sent to Ayuri lands, the two used to share tea on a regular basis, and play Cathayi chess. He raised his head. “That’s too bad. Prince Hardeep told me only someone of your talent could use his magical instrument.”

  My destiny. Was it worth breaking yet more rules? Exposing collaborators to potential punishment? The memory of Yanyan’s pipa sent a tingling through my hands and into my core. It had caused me to pass out. No telling what a similar instrument could do, with me out in the city without guards.

  But oh, the possibilities! I was so close. And Prince Hardeep would be there with his Paladin skills, to protect me. My chest swelled. “What would you do?”

  “Kaiya,” Kai-Long said, taking my hand in his. “You must make that decision for yourself. Just know that Prince Hardeep told me you have a gift. He wholeheartedly believes it is like none other since Yanyan herself.”

  Heat flared, and my hands went sweaty. The exuberant bubble in my chest threatened to choke off my air. Prince Hardeep’s kind blue eyes saw me. My potential to do good in this world. He didn’t care about how plain I looked. To him, I was more than a stepping-stone to power.

  Still, Father also loved me unconditionally. My excitement withered, and the swell in my chest deflated. “Whatever I choose, I will betray someone.”

  “Not necessarily.” Kai-Long squeezed my hand. “I have friends in Vyara City who remember when the Dragon Scale Lute repelled Avarax. If you learn to use it, you can help Cathay. Remember what the Emperor said about the lords of the North. Remember that if Ankira falls, aggressive Madura will be on our border, and I am sure they have stockpiles of firepowder.”

  It did make sense, and provided a means of getting official permission. I nodded. “I am sure the Emperor will see the logic. I will go to him—”

  He released my hand and raised his own. “If you decide to leave the castle—and I will support whatever you choose—the Emperor must not know. Because if he denies your request, all eyes will be on you during the reception, making my plan impossible. It will also be direct disobedience to his order, punishable by death.”

  I twirled a lock of hair. If it was just myself to consider, the chance to find my potential, beyond a political marriage, was worth the risk of death. After all, the proverb of marriage being a woman’s grave rang even more true from what I’d seen of the short and pompous General Lu.

  But what about collaborators? Anyone who helped me escape the castle—from servants to Hardeep and even Kai-Long—would face certain torture and execution. No, asking for permission was out of the question. I searched Kai-Long’s eyes again, finding nothing but devotion and support. “Tell me your plan. If it endangers anyone besides myself, I cannot go through with it.”

  “There is magic in the world beyond Paladin fighting skills and our master craftsmen.” Grinning, Kai-Long pulled me behind a large tree, out of the guards’ line of sight. He withdrew a red silk pouch and emptied what appeared to be a light bauble into his bare palm.

  I gasped. Kai-Long’s face was gone, replaced by my own—or at least, a flattering rendition based off an official court painting. His broad shoulders and muscled frame now withered to my slim, flat build, and his court robes seemed to shrink to size.

  My mouth open and closed, more reminiscent of a carp out of water than a princess, until one word could escape. “H-How?”

  When he spoke, it was with his own voice, making the situation all the more disconcerting. “An Aksumi illusionist I knew in Vyara City made it.”

  An illusionist; no wonder. The dark-skinned Aksumi practiced all kinds of sorcery, including the mass production of the ubiquitous light baubles. But, “Whatever for?”

  “An emergency. If you ever needed a decoy. Just like tonight, though I don’t imagine the Emperor had this sort of circumstance in mind.” She—he—stared at the sky.

  It definitely wasn’t my body language…was it? “This will never work. It doesn’t look like me, and it certainly doesn’t sound like me.”

  Kai-Long slipped the marble into its pouch, and his form snapped back to normal. “My plan takes all that into account. Here’s what we will do…”

  Nine

  Not the Brightest Moment

  Kneeling at the far end of the dais in the Golden Dragon Room, I listened to the music ensemble that played in the background. Guzheng, pipa, erhu, ruan guitar, recorder; all mingled in choreographed harmony, all technically perfect.

  Though the sound didn’t carry the same emotions as my masters’ playing, it resonated through rice wine-fueled conversation among the hereditary lords and ladies. Dressed in their finest gowns and robes, they all sat on the imported sablewood floors around low tables, enjoying delicacies prepared by the finest chefs in the realm.

  Each place was set with some of my favorite dishes, though Cousin Kai-Long’s embarrassing plan had killed my appetite: a bowl of royal red rice, a low-rimmed bowl with jade asparagus and immortal mushrooms sautéed with royal-ox butter, a small saucer of soy sauce-braised golden pork belly cubes, a small plate of fried three-inch long whitefish, a medium-sized plate of chopped crispy quail, and a lacquer bowl of shark fin soup. A small cup for rice wine sat on the right side, next to a pair of chopsticks. The Imperial Family’s symbol of a blue five-clawed dragon decorated each white porcelain dish.

  Insides twisting, I looked through the sliding doors. Painted with dark golden dragons flying among the clouds, they stood open to the garden beyond, thankfully allowing cool air off Sun-Moon Lake to percolate in and alleviate the stifling air. Facing north, th
ey did not provide a view of the iridescent moon, so I would have to rely on Kai-Long to keep time. Going along with his potentially humiliating plan might tarnish the hard-to-maintain façade of Perfect Princess.

  And I had been far from perfect today. Surprisingly enough, the Minister of Household Affairs hadn’t approached me about my transgressions, nor had Father summoned me regarding the betrothal to General Lu. I shifted in my seat. Certainly, one of the witnesses would have reported everything by now.

  Or perhaps they’d been too busy preparing for this reception to deal with a naughty sixteen-year-old. Tomorrow might be another story, but for now, Second Brother Kai-Wu and his soon-to-be bride took center stage.

  Everyone took turns approaching the dais where my family ate from small individual tables. Second Brother, never one for ceremony, slouched beside his bride-to-be. Wu Yanli, the daughter of Tai-Ming Lord Wu of Zhenjing Province, might have been a porcelain doll with her cold elegance. She almost rivaled Xiulan in beauty, and rumor had it she had enchanted Kai-Wu with the magic of her tea ceremony.

  Young Lord Chen Qing, a Yu-Ming heir to a county in Jiangzhou Province, approached with a dumb smile on his face and a wine saucer in hand. He dropped to his knee. “Your Highness, congratulations on your new sister-in-law. Let us toast.” His eyes swept to the porcelain decanter at my side.

  The one filled with water, part of Cousin Kai-Long’s plan. I nodded. Then, I filled Young Lord Chen’s saucer and set the decanter down. He then took it and filled my saucer.

  I took a dainty sip and my eyes widened. Hot and spicy, it stung my throat. I covered my cough. That was not water! There must’ve been a mistake. And now, an unprecedented line of young lords had formed up behind Chen Qing, all with feral grins.

  Oh no. I craned my neck. Hopefully, Kai-Long was out there somewhere. Or a servant, who could swap out the decanter…but for what? Nobody knew it was supposed to be water. The next young man, Young Lord Fen of Fenggu Province, already knelt before me, filling my saucer with rice wine.

  The alcohol burned my mouth, and showed no signs of abating even after several more young lords toasted me. I was to have feigned drunkenness and retired early, but now, it looked like my poor acting skills might not be needed.

  My stomach heaved. Head spinning, I covered my mouth, and luckily, nothing came up. Eyes rounding like the wine saucer, Young Lord Zi, the seventh to serve me, scuttled back several steps. Humiliating for sure, made worse by actually being drunk.

  Still, no one could blame me. It would appear just as Kai-Long had planned: a bunch of potential young suitors trying to make an impression on me, but gone too far. At a reception like this, even a prince or princess was fair game, and Father could forgive a sixteen-year-old for not holding her wine.

  Kai-Long appeared at my side, hand on my elbow. “Easy, Your Highness. Come, let me help you.” Releasing me, he walked through the crowd gathering in front of Eldest Brother Kai-Guo and Xiulan, and bowed before Father at the center of the dais.

  Father was engaged in discussion with a middle-aged minister, his brow furrowed in an uncommon show of public emotion. The minister shook his head and held up two fingers. Father actually frowned, but then held up a hand to the minister and turned to Kai-Long. Kai-Long leaned in and whispered into Father’s ear.

  Turning and meeting my gaze, Father nodded. Permission to leave, with Cousin Kai-Long, his favorite nephew. Subtle enough to save face. With a bow of apology to the waiting young men, I rose.

  And wobbled. My head whirled like a cyclone. Again, a firm hand grasped my arm.

  Kai-Long leaned in and whispered, “You are doing great.”

  Great? If only he knew it was no act. Placing each foot in front of the other felt like a toddler’s first steps. “Who is that speaking with the Emperor?”

  “Deputy Yan. One of his most trusted advisors.”

  I looked back to where Father still conferred with this Deputy Yan. “What were they talking about?”

  Kai-Long shrugged. “I’m not sure. They quieted as soon as I came over. Now come along.”

  With his support, I made it to the garden, all under the watchful eye of imperial guards. Guanyin’s Eye hung low in the night sky. At its largest this year, it seemed to scrutinize my foolishness.

  Cold air filled my lungs, clearing my head, if only a little. “That wasn’t water!” I spun and shoved him with two hands, and would’ve knocked myself over if he hadn’t caught me.

  “No!” He shook his head. “The servant must have made a mistake. It’s okay though, the plan will still work.”

  Plan? Right. To see gorgeous Prince Hardeep and try the Dragon Scale Lute. It would certainly improve what had become a mortifying evening.

  He draped a silken shawl over my shoulders, and then beckoned a servant. “Bring us some hot tea.” He then guided me along the courtyard paths, our feet crunching in the white pebbles. Where were we? No matter how familiar the inner castle was, everything appeared the same through my bleary vision and spinning head. Up ahead, a small octagonal pagoda overlooked the moat between the inner castle and the main palace.

  Holding my hand, he helped me up the steps. Inside I plopped into a seat, the marble cold on my behind. I scanned the far end of the path, where two imperial guards kept a respectful distance.

  “Are you all right?” Kai-Long asked.

  “I think so.” No. With heat flaring in my cheeks, I fanned my face with a hand.

  He leaned back and stretched his arms over the pagoda’s half-wall. “I want you to bend over, so the guards can’t see you, take off the shawl, and pretend to dry heave. Loudly. Stay down, then give the shawl and your outer robe to her.” His head tilted down, to the side.

  I jerked my head in the direction he indicated, the sudden motion making my brain twist and flip.

  A palace maid was hunched over, below the line of sight of anyone outside the pagoda. The dark partially shrouded her face, but she bore an uncanny resemblance to me. Probably from the illusion bauble.

  Taking off my outer robe in front of a man, cousin or not, wasn’t part of the plan. Dry heaves weren’t either, and the way my stomach twisted, things might not be particularly dry. “Who is she?”

  “Someone who owes me a favor.” Kai-Long chuckled. “I know a lot about many of the handmaidens and palace servants.”

  Curse the buzzing in my head. Why did this feel wrong?

  “Hurry,” Kai-Long said. “When the servant comes with the tea, you will swap places.”

  “How did you come up with this plan?”

  Kai-Long grinned. “I’ve snuck a few ladies out this way in the past. More than a few. And it will work even better than ever this time with the magic.” He held out his palm. Cradled in a silk kerchief was a marble, similar to the magical light baubles that lit the palace and probably every other house in the world. “Don’t touch it directly. Not yet.”

  It must be another illusion bauble. I took up the kerchief, nearly knocking it out of his hand. “What will this one make me look like?”

  “Just a plain girl. Trust me, everything will be all right. Nobody is going to get in trouble.”

  There’d been a little too much magic for one day already. I took a deep breath. The cool air did little to clear the alcohol-induced haze. I glanced toward the imperial guards, just shadows in the distance. The servant approached, holding a tray with a teacup and kettle in trembling hands. No, it would be okay. Kai-Long had done this many times.

  “All right.” I motioned for Kai-Long to turn his back. When he did, I gritted my teeth, leaned over, and did my best approximation of dry heaves. I ripped off the shawl and shrugged out of the robe, then passed them to the girl, who stood up, hand over her mouth, coughing.

  “Good,” Kai-Long whispered, patting the girl on the back. “Cough a little.”

  As the girl complied, the other servant, now cloaked against the chill, stepped into the pagoda with tea. She poured it into a cup and set the cup and kettle on the table. How wond
erful tea would be right now! Kai-Long placed himself in the guards’ line of sight and motioned me to my feet.

  When I stood, the second servant dropped to all fours. Kai-Long pulled the cloak off and draped it over my shoulders. The girl who now resembled me reached for the tea and took a sip. It happened so fast, a blur to my addled head.

  “Now,” Kai-Long whispered to me, “Thank me and tell me to take my leave while you rest here.”

  I fought the urge to bow my head, lest the guards see the switch. “Thank you, Cousin Kai-Long. I am feeling a little better now. I am just going to sit for a while. You may take your leave.”

  “It has been my honor.” Kai-Long bowed, then pulled the hood over my head and placed a hand on my shoulder. He whispered again, “I am going to report to your imperial guards. In about ten minutes, meet me on the other side of the bridge. Remember, the bauble must touch your bare skin at all times. Try to walk in a straight line, with the body language of a servant.”

  Whatever that meant. I watched as he left and walked up the path to where my guards waited.

  “Princess Kaiya is feeling better,” he told them. “The cool air is doing her well, and I think after sitting for a while with several cups of tea, she will be fine.” With a nod of his head, he disappeared around a hedge.

  I looked down at the girl pretending to be me. Who was she beneath the illusion? And had we crossed paths in the palace before? She must be new. Not to mention, her posture appeared much too stiff, the motions too jerky as she reached for the teacup. The tea smelled good, and it probably would help allay the throbbing in my head. Still, a servant would never dare drink after a princess. With the guards watching, thinking me to be the servant, it would ruin the illusion to drink the tea.

  “Now, Your Highness,” the girl whispered, lips trembling.

  I stood. With deliberate care, I took one step after another. As I approached the bridge over the moat, I glanced in the direction of the guards. Their dark shapes didn’t move. Heavens, this plan was actually working.