The Hearts of Dragons

by Josh VanBrakle

  Minawë’s heart skipped. No way. She looked at Rondel, who had stormed back onto the deck. With her keen bird sight, Minawë saw the Maantec’s emerald eyes. Minawë didn’t often look at her own face, but she’d seen it reflected in water enough times. Narunë was right. They were the same.

  In her shock Minawë twittered a call. Rondel made no movement, but Narunë’s brow furrowed. “That’s odd,” he said.

  “What is?” Rondel asked.

  “I heard a song sparrow just now, but they don’t live this far south. There can’t be one here.”

  Minawë swore inside her mind as Rondel swore aloud. The old woman shoved Narunë out of the way as she ran to the edge of the deck. “Where? Where is it?” she demanded. Lightning Sight flashed.

  Minawë had to get away. She couldn’t face it. She couldn’t face her. She took flight, but she knew Lightning Sight would detect the motion. She had to fly far and fast, somewhere Rondel couldn’t follow.

  “Rondel, come back!” Minawë heard her uncle cry as she spun away from the hospital. “Azar is out there! He’ll kill you! Stop, Rondel!”

  Minawë ignored the shouts. She ignored everything except the pain in her wings as she pumped them as hard as she could. Pain was good. When her mind focused on pain, it could fool itself into believing that it had never heard the terrible truth, the secret Rondel had kept from her all this time.

  Aletas wasn’t her mother. Rondel was.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I Will Be Strong

  Minawë flew until her wing muscles burned. The sun reached its peak and sailed on, yet still she raced. She had long ago left Rondel behind. As fast as the Maantec was, she couldn’t keep pace with a tiny bird through the tangle of Aokigahara.

  Even so, Minawë refused to slow down. She knew the old woman would never stop hunting her, and she needed time to think.

  There was no point in going to Shikari now. Getting there wasn’t the issue; the sparrow knew which direction was south. Without help, though, Minawë couldn’t rescue Iren. Hana was guarding him, and she had defeated Rondel. Minawë couldn’t win against her.

  She could go home to Ziorsecth. It terrified her that she considered it, but the prospect made more and more sense the longer she thought about it. Why should she suffer like this for Iren? He had walked out on her and left her to her grief.

  But no, she couldn’t abandon Iren to whatever fate Hana had planned for him. Minawë could picture him, an awkward teenager helping her cross Lodia before Saito’s curse could take her life. She was alive because of Iren. He had cured her of the curse, and he’d defended her and her people against Amroth and Feng.

  While Minawë warred with herself, the air around her grew hotter. Aokigahara’s ever-present fog thickened and darkened. It choked her lungs. Minawë kept flying, too preoccupied to care. Then she burst through a clearing in the trees, and her inner debate was forgotten.

  Flames devoured the forest. Great teeth of red, yellow, and orange whipped from tree to tree, leaving nothing but char behind them.

  In the center of the blaze walked creatures from a nightmare. Minawë remembered them from her imprisonment last year in Akaku Forest. They were Yokai.

  A dozen of them stalked through the burning forest. They swaggered on reverse-jointed legs as their lanky arms provided counterbalance. In each hand they carried a two-foot sword adorned with hooks and flanges meant to torture enemies as the Yokai butchered them. Adding to their arsenal, three-inch bone spikes grew above each eye. Their hair matched the red of the flames around them, and their oversized yellow eyes glowed as if they too were on fire.

  Most of the Yokai were no taller than Rondel, but one in the center towered above the rest. He stood three times their height, his gargantuan size marking him as the rarest of the Yokai—their mutant form, an Oni.

  The Oni didn’t carry a flanged sword like his kin. Instead his right hand clenched an impossibly long blade. In shape it matched the Muryozaki, but though it was no wider than Iren’s katana, its length surpassed the Oni’s height.

  A smoldering tree blocked the Oni’s way, but he didn’t slow down. With an easy swing of his arm, the beast’s sword sliced through the trunk. The Oni pushed down the tree with his other arm as he passed. When he did, Minawë caught a glimpse of the weapon’s handle, and she saw the telltale kanji rings on its hilt that marked it as a Ryokaiten.

  She had to get away. There was nothing she could do against a monster like that, let alone one that was a Dragon Knight. She banked in midair and fled the terrible scene. It was her only hope of living.

  After a few seconds, though, Minawë stopped. She landed on a branch and watched the grim procession. The Oni was burning a line through the forest. With each step the monster took, Minawë heard the voices of the plants and animals in his way screaming and dying. They filled her mind first with panic, then with emptiness.

  Minawë made her decision. She flew back toward the Oni and landed in front of him and his minions. Her sparrow eyes glared at him in challenge.

  The Oni noticed her and loosed a cackling laugh. “Look at this, boys!” he jeered. “This one wants to stop us!” The other Yokai all howled in response, and the Oni continued, “Not much of a survival instinct. I guess it’s for the best that we kill it.”

  “You will not,” Minawë said, and though she was a sparrow, the words came through. Her body grew as she transformed. “I am the Forest Dragon Knight. I wield the powers of life and death. You have killed those living here before their time. I’ll never forgive you for that!”

  She rose to her full height, her Kodaman form restored. Her right hand grasped the Chloryoblaka.

  The Oni laughed at her. “So one Kodama has the courage to confront Azar.”

  Minawë didn’t hesitate. She drew back the Chloryoblaka. As she did, the bow curled and created its own arrow. Minawë loosed it at the Oni’s throat, but the wood burned up inches away from him.

  Azar didn’t so much as blink. Instead he gestured with his open hand, and his Yokai minions leapt at Minawë.

  She pulled back her bow again, but the Yokai were too fast. Minawë leapt sideways and barely avoided a fatal blow from one of the monsters’ flanged swords. Cursing, she tried to think of a strategy. She didn’t have enough time to shoot her bow. Even if she could, the Yokai maneuvered so quickly that Minawë doubted she could hit them. Their reverse-jointed legs and long arms made them remarkable climbers. They leapt from tree to tree at a dizzying speed, cackling all the while.

  As Minawë watched one Yokai, another landed behind her and slashed at her head. She ducked and rolled, mud covering her.

  Before she could regain her feet, a second Yokai leapt in front of her. It thrust its sword. This time, Minawë was off balance and couldn’t maneuver. She was going to die.

  “Help!” she cried. Minawë shut her eyes against the pain.

  Then she heard a soft thunk. She opened her eyes and gasped. A tree had sprouted in front of her. Its trunk curled above her, protecting her life with its own.

  Her opponent was as stunned as she was. Its flanged sword could rip apart flesh, but the weapon’s odd construction meant that it could become lodged in tough material like wood.

  The monster yanked on its blade, but the tree held firm. When the Yokai swung its second sword to cut the first loose, that weapon became trapped as well. Minawë drew back her bow and shot an arrow into the creature’s head.

  The Yokai’s death gave the others pause, just enough for Minawë to decipher what had happened. She recalled Mother’s battle against the Lodians. Mother had used Dendryl’s magic to control the plants, making them move and attack her enemies.

  That gave Minawë an idea. She relaxed and slipped into the strange world of the forest. Its cacophony of voices—many still screaming in fear—threatened to overwhelm her, but she held firm. After months of hearing them, she’d finally spoken their language. Her cry for help had come out not in Lodian or Kodaman, but in the same voice as the life
around her. She couldn’t explain how, but with that one word, she knew the plants’ speech had become part of her.

  “Defend me!” Minawë cried in a language she didn’t know, yet completely understood. “And defend yourselves! Stop the invaders!”

  A Yokai descended, but a second tree sprouted even before the beast reached the ground. It blocked the monster’s strike and then grew a new branch that it used to impale its foe. Elsewhere, vines wrapped around the Yokai and crushed them like vipers ensnaring their prey.

  When the last Yokai fell, Minawë faced Azar. The Oni stared down at her with baleful eyes. He swung his blade in a broad arc, and a ring of fire leapt from it. The flames engulfed the plants around Minawë and cut off her escape. In moments she stood exposed on the charred earth.

  “What now?” Azar laughed. “Your magic doesn’t work outside the forest. Soon the curse will claim your life, and I’ll take that bow back to my men. One of them can be the next Forest Dragon Knight and butcher the rest of your kind with it. That is, if any escape my trap.”

  At the word “trap,” Minawë finally grasped Azar’s strategy. Looking past him, she saw the line of blackened ground he’d created. It wasn’t straight. Instead, it curved gradually to the left. She’d thought he was wantonly destroying the forest, but he was more cunning than that. Azar was burning a ring around the Kodaman settlement. If he finished it, he would cut off the Kodamas from the jungle. They would have nowhere to escape without falling victim to Saito’s curse. Their choices would be simple and grim: die from the curse, or die from the Oni’s flames.

  Minawë had to stop him. Unfortunately, she had no idea how. The fight with Azar’s minions had all but drained her magic. She could manage two or three more small spells, but that was it.

  The Oni advanced. His long blade gleamed red as it reflected the fiery rainforest. Minawë drew her bow again and shot, this time at point-blank range. The arrow struck Azar in the stomach, but it clattered off his natural hide armor.

  While Minawë wracked her brain for an idea of what to do next, the Oni raised his hand and loosed a torrent of fire at her. She cried out for defense. A tree sprouted before her and blocked the flames.

  The spell left her exhausted. Worse, it would only delay the inevitable. The fire would burn through the trunk, and then it would do the same to her.

  As the tree glowed, a voice shouted, “Minawë!”

  A weight crashed into her at high speed. It knocked her from her position on the burned ground and sent her tumbling into the woods.

  Before Minawë could regain her footing, she heard a gut-wrenching scream. She whipped her head around.

  Rondel was engulfed in flames.

  Azar halted his attack, revealing Rondel’s charred body. The old woman faced Minawë. Then, to the Kodama’s shock, Rondel smiled. “Remember the mountains, Daughter,” she murmured, “and remember . . . your mother.”

  Minawë couldn’t believe what she was seeing. It was happening again, just like Father, just like Mother.

  She should run. Rondel had given her life to provide Minawë this one chance of escape. Yet Minawë couldn’t make her body move. Her muscles refused the command to flee. Instead they made her stand and confront the Oni, even though she could do nothing against him.

  “I’m tired,” she said.

  “Of course you are,” Azar replied. “Let me help you rest.”

  “No,” Minawë spat, “I’m tired of people dying for me. Never again, do you hear me? I will be strong! I will be strong so that no one else will have to die because of me!”

  Minawë understood Rondel’s last words. The old Maantec hadn’t sacrificed herself so Minawë could escape. She’d done it so Minawë could stop Azar.

  What’s more, thanks to what Rondel had said, Minawë knew how. She only had enough magic for one more spell, but that was enough. She stretched out with her mind and called the roots of the nearby plants. They sprang from the ground and wrapped around her legs. She urged their energy into her, drawing from their lives to strengthen her own.

  With the plants’ magic, Minawë grew a hard, brown coating over her body. She then divided the shell until she was covered in thousands of round, tiny seeds.

  The new armor didn’t faze the Oni. He raised his palm again and unleashed a column of flame.

  It was what Minawë had waited for. She didn’t avoid the fire. It engulfed her, yet she felt no heat from it.

  When the blaze subsided, Azar surveyed his work. “I’m impressed you’re still standing,” he said, “even if you’re nothing but a husk.”

  He spun on his taloned foot to leave, and that was the last step he took. Minawë thrust out her arm, and the seeds on her body erupted. Vines burst from them, hundreds upon hundreds. They lanced out, smothered the Oni, and wrenched back his hand until he dropped the Karyozaki. They left only his face exposed, and though he struggled, he couldn’t move.

  Minawë walked forward, amused by Azar’s surprised expression. “How?” he snarled. “I thought you were out of magic.”

  “I was,” she said, “so I borrowed yours. Those were serotinous seeds. They can only sprout after absorbing incredible heat.”

  “Impossible!” Azar howled. “A Kodama using plants can’t defeat an Oni wielding fire!”

  “You’re right about that,” Minawë said. “I didn’t defeat you. If you want someone to blame, then blame my mothers. Both of them.” She picked up the Fire Dragon Sword and headed toward Rondel to check on her.

  “What, you’ll just leave me here?” Azar yelled at her. “You Kodamas always were too soft. Even if you take that sword, I’ll eventually break free of these vines. When I do, I’ll kill you and all your worthless race.”

  Minawë looked over her shoulder at him. “Too soft, you say? Well then, let me teach you something my mother taught me.”

  Her voice and face turned to iron. “Evil must be annihilated.”

  Nine inch thorns sprang from the vines holding Azar. The Oni’s scream lasted less than a second.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  Failure

  Hana Akiyama woke to a tapping at Iren’s door. She glanced at the young man lying next to her; he was still snoring.

  It made sense that he was a heavy sleeper. Though the Lodians had treated Iren poorly, he had never known real danger growing up. Hana was different. Sleep was the only time she was vulnerable.

  Still, she was surprised that someone would wake her this late at night, especially when she was with Iren. They had slept together several times the past three weeks, and she had instructed the servants not to bother them.

  Hana waited in bed a few minutes, hoping the fool would go away. But the tapping continued, so at last she dressed and crept to the door.

  “What is it?” she hissed.

  The voice on the other side was shaking. “His lordship demands your presence, my lady.”

  Hana felt cold. Lord Melwar knew she was with Iren. What could be so important that he would call on her now?

  When Lord Melwar demanded your presence, though, you didn’t question it. You didn’t dawdle either. Hana slid open the door as quietly as she could, and then she took off at a run for the lord’s room.

  When she arrived, she prostrated herself. “How may I serve?”

  Unlike when Iren was with her, Lord Melwar didn’t ask Hana to rise. She had to keep herself spread out on the floor as he said, “A runner arrived a few minutes ago. He bore a message from our scouts along the Aokigaharan border. The Yokai report that the Kodamas apprehended two spies: a woman of their own kind and a crone. The Kodama had a bow covered in living vines, and the crone had a broken dagger. Sound familiar?”

  Hana couldn’t believe it. “Rondel?”

  “I was under the impression I ordered you to kill her in Serona. Explain your failure.”

  Hana trembled at the way Lord Melwar emphasized that last word. “I was sure I killed her,” she said. “I covered her in an airtight coffin of rock. I thought either the
heat or the lack of air would finish her.”

  Though Hana couldn’t see him, Lord Melwar’s anger was palpable. “You underestimated her. I warned you not to do that. Now Azar’s mission will fail as well.”

  Hana needed to fix this. “My lord, let me go to Aokigahara,” she said. “You’re training Iren yourself now. You don’t need me here. If Azar and I work together, I know we can kill Rondel.”

  “If you are begging for your life by trying to show your value, that is unnecessary. You must remain here to build Iren’s trust. Besides, this news from the Yokai is now several weeks old. Azar is likely already dead. He was supposed to kill the Kodamas in Aokigahara, but he was never skilled enough to fight another Dragon Knight. Moreover, even if you did join Azar, your presence would make no difference. Now that Rondel has seen you fight, she will have a plan to defeat you. That must be why she brought the Kodama. The Yokai’s description of her bow matches the Chloryoblaka. She must be the Forest Dragon Knight, and somehow she has become free of Saito’s curse. Inside Aokigahara, you would have no chance against her.”

  Lord Melwar paused. Hana understood enough of the man to know he was thinking of a strategy.

  When he spoke again, it was with casual certainty. “Rondel and the Forest Dragon Knight are coming here. They know we have Iren.”

  Hana suppressed a wince as she recalled her boast to Rondel in Serona. She had proclaimed that she would give the crone’s greetings to Iren Saitosan. Had she not said that, Rondel wouldn’t have known to follow her.

  Lord Melwar had paused again, and Hana knew he had detected her increased nervousness. Nothing escaped the man’s notice. “I have been going slowly with Iren,” he said. “I thought we had plenty of time to convince him of the purity of our cause. Thanks to your failure, we will need to speed things up. No matter. He is ready to begin the meditation sessions anyway. By the time Rondel arrives, we will be ready for her.”