by Claire Luana
“This place, it’s stronger here. And you…you’re full of it,” Kai said, letting her senses explore the landscape around her.
“Yes, I was formed by the creator himself, and he made this place. There is more of his power in me, and in this island—its healing waters. The power also made Tsuki and Taiyo, though the gods were formed of specific elements of the creator’s power, so they cannot wield the whole spectrum themselves. Neither can any burner. Except you.”
“I don’t know how to use it though. Or not very well. It’s so strong. I can hardly control it. Can you help me?”
It shook its head. “This is a journey I cannot walk for you.”
She suppressed her frustration and paced the soft grass, its cool blades tickling her bare feet. “The guardians then,” she said. “He said something about guardians. Can you help me find them?”
“You are the guardians. And us. The burners and the seishen.”
“But we’re not enough,” Kai said, sinking back onto the grass in despair. “Maybe back then we were. They were able to push the tengu back into the spirit world. But now? I don’t have the first idea where to start. I couldn’t even make one of those fancy boxes they made! Do you know how to stop the tengu?”
It shook its head. “I do not. I lived in the spirit world while the burners lived in the mortal one. I saw a shadow of such things, but I do not have this type of magic.”
“Can you help us? Fight with us?”
“I will not leave this place,” it said. “My duty is to protect my seishen. And I will not fail.”
“What good will your seishen be if their burners die? We are linked. If the tengu break the rest of the bonds between the worlds, will you sit behind your walls and let them disappear one by one?”
The seishen elder rose to its feet and its wings shot out behind it in a billow of white feathers. “Do you call me a coward for carrying out the sacred duty the creator left to me? I welcomed you into our home, fed you, healed your friend, shared what knowledge I had. Do not think you are entitled to more, whatever precious gift the creator thought to give you. He may have thought you worthy, but I am not convinced.”
Kai shrank back from the elder, knowing she had gone too far. Quitsu streaked in front of her and drew himself up before the giant creature, his silver paws solidly planted, his hackles raised.
“That’s enough,” he said to the elder, tiny but fierce before the immense white seishen.
“Quitsu, my little foxling,” the elder said, settling back onto the ground, folding its wings once more. “Your mouth always was three times bigger than any other part of you. Except perhaps your heart. Now I see where you get it.”
“We’re going to take that as a compliment,” Quitsu said, backing down and sitting on Kai’s feet. “Let’s not forget we’re all on the same side.”
“I’m sorry,” Kai said. “I was hoping…you could give us more help.”
“You are touched by the creator. Trust that he will guide your path,” the elder said. “And I will do what I can. But I cannot abandon my post.”
“I understand,” Kai said.
Kai, Quitsu, and the elder joined the rest of their group around the low table and ate a simple breakfast.
Kai sat by Emi, not ready to speak with Hiro after their argument the night before. Hiro seemed similarly content to pass the morning avoiding eye contact. He was currently absorbed in the banana he was peeling.
Well, that was just fine with her. She wasn’t ready to apologize.
“We must be on our way soon,” Kai said. “I’m anxious to return to Kyuden and the citadel.”
“I can provide you mounts to aid your journey home,” the elder said, and Kai nodded in gratitude. They would have to send moonburners back to the Misty Forest to try to retrieve the mounts they had left behind.
“Am I the only one who remembers that we’re leaving Daarco lost somewhere in the Misty Forest? If he’s even alive?” Emi asked. “I mean, he’s not my favorite person…but it seems a bit callous.”
Kai bit her lip. If Daarco had eluded the tengu, how would they ever find him in the forest? They were likely to get themselves killed trying to locate him.
“Your friend has left the forest,” the elder said. “He is again within my sight. He has returned to your citadel.”
They all let out a breath of relief. Kai couldn’t help a twinge of annoyance. So Daarco had no trouble leaving them all for dead and heading back to the citadel?
But as soon as the thought entered her head, she chided herself. What other choice did he have? Wander the forest hoping to bump into them? He must have rejected that path, just as she so recently had.
“Then it’s settled,” Kai said. “We return to the citadel.”
As they walked outside to the lakeshore, Kai fell into step next to Colum. “What did you take from the seishen elder to make it so angry at you?” she asked, her voice low.
“A cute bunny rabbit,” Colum said. “I took a shine to ‘im while I was here.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…” Kai frowned.
Colum looked straight ahead. “He was a golden bunny rabbit…”
Kai’s eyes flew open in shock. “You stole a seishen?” Her voice raised an octave.
“I returned him,” Colum said. “Eventually.”
“You’re lucky you weren’t skinned alive!” Kai said.
“It’s not too late,” the elder said from ahead of them without turning.
“No, no,” Kai said, glaring sideways at Colum. “I think we still need him.”
INTERLUDE
Geisa sat in darkness. Since the queen had come, the conditions of her imprisonment had dramatically improved. The queen, Geisa thought with a sneer. That girl was in far deeper trouble than she could even conceive. She didn’t have half the presence and fortitude Airi had had.
She sighed, as she always did when she thought of Airi. Though the careful shepherding of Airi towards her mistress’s purpose had been a duty assigned to her, they had spent almost twenty years together. While Geisa had kept Airi in the dark about her true task and purpose for coming to Kyuden, it didn’t stop Geisa from growing fond of Airi. From caring about her. She had deserved better than an unceremonial death at the hand of her supposedly loyal followers.
Geisa’s stomach rumbled. It was past time for her dinner. At least they fed her now. Her frame was still painfully thin, but she wasn’t crippled by the weakness that had plagued her when they had fed her only a few times a week. She supposed she should be grateful. Though if she was to spend the rest of her life rotting in this cell, food only extended things unnecessarily.
No. She wouldn’t spend her life in this cell. She fingered the skin on her forearm where she had used her fingernails to draw blood to summon Tsuki. Or rather, the tengu that masqueraded as Tsuki. Yukina. It had been ten years of service before her mistress had deemed her worthy to know its true name. Geisa touched the scab on her arm again. The scab was almost gone, but it was a comforting reminder. Geisa would be free again, and she would enjoy her revenge against the petty insects of this citadel. She would watch their precious world burn.
Noise sounded outside the thick cell door, and she smoothed her hair. Since the queen had come, she had tried to regain her old sense of self, at least when she had visitors. She pasted a disdainful expression on her face. She wouldn’t show weakness.
The dim light from the hallway blinded her as the door opened. She closed her eyes and turned her face, blinking slowly to adjust her pupils. The silhouette at the door was different than her normal guard, thin and slightly stooped. Male. His face was bathed in shadow, backlit against the hallway light.
And then he did a peculiar thing. He stepped inside the cell and closed the door, cloaking the cell in utter darkness once again.
“Does the dark still bother you?” he asked.
His smooth voice froze the blood in her veins. She inhaled sharply.
“I suppose it does,” he said. �
�Those traits we pick up in our youth follow us through life.”
Geisa’s breathing grew frantic as she tried to pick out where he was in the darkness. Was he approaching? Drawing near? Was he going to touch her?
“The dark is a funny thing,” he said. “We have five senses, but we only ever use our eyes. Take away a person’s eyes, and suddenly they feel very vulnerable indeed.”
Geisa drew her knees against her chest, becoming as small and tightly wrapped as she could. She began counting in her head to soothe herself. It was a trick she had learned in the sunburner prison. It calmed her but allowed her to still listen to his instructions. Allowed her to detach from her body. From what he was doing to it.
“Remember all the fun we used to have? With the blindfold? You never knew what was coming next. So satisfying.”
In the darkness, the man’s hand gripped her chin and raised her face to look into his own. She could imagine the face, the twisted sneer, in the darkness.
She whimpered, her memory flashing through the ways he had degraded her, body and soul. How he had stripped her down, piece by piece, until there was nothing left that she recognized. Until she would do anything to make the pain stop.
“It’s too bad we don’t have time for fun today,” he said, releasing her chin. “But I have much to do to clean up your mess here. You did your job well for many years, but it all fell apart. You failed them.”
“The goddess said I could have a second chance,” Geisa said. He couldn’t destroy her. The goddess still needed her. “It came here…it told me.”
“Yes.” The man tsked. “I would not have been so forgiving, but it is not for me to question their judgment. I will free you and give you one more chance to prove your worth.”
“I will not fail again,” she said, hating the eagerness in her own voice.
“Your task is a critical one. Within days, the queen and Ozora’s whelp will journey to discover the locations where Tsuki and Taiyo are held captive. If they find where they are hidden, they will undertake an effort to free them.”
“Free them?” Geisa said. “It cannot be allowed. I will stop them at all costs.”
“Foolish woman,” he scolded. “So small-minded. I suppose I could not expect more from a woman, but even so, it’s disappointing to have such inferior allies.”
She cringed away from his displeasure, not daring to speak.
The man continued. “You must harry them, so they believe they are being opposed, but not stop them.”
“Why don’t I kill them?” Geisa asked, salivating slightly at the thought.
“Because we need them. The prisons containing Tsuki and Taiyo will only open to the blood of their heirs.”
“If we kill them, we will have their blood,” Geisa said. “Why the charade?”
“The resting places will only open to the blood of the true heir freely given,” he said, as if explaining to a small child.
“Why do we seek to free Tsuki and Taiyo?” Geisa asked softly. “I thought our master and mistress wanted the gods out of the way.”
“They do,” the man said, kneeling down before her. She could smell the stale odor of decay on his breath. “Out of the way for good. Once Tsuki and Taiyo are free, our lord and lady will kill them and plunge this world into darkness.”
Geisa shivered, but not at the thought of the coming darkness. At his closeness.
“I’m ready,” she said.
CHAPTER 24
Kai breathed a sigh of relief when they landed in the citadel’s central courtyard. The seishen elder’s transportation had turned out to be several white eagles as large as oxen. Riding on one of their feathered backs without the security of a flying harness or saddle had left her with frayed nerves and tense muscles.
Viewing the deadly effects of the earthquake as they descended had twisted her heart. Buildings crumbled like sandcastles along the riverbed, tents of homeless citizens sprung across squares and alleys, smoke wafting from still-smoldering embers.
It was late afternoon, and the hot sun beat down mercilessly on the stones and whitewashed walls of the citadel, painting the destruction of her own palace in harsh oranges and reds.
“Thank you,” she said to her eagle after she dismounted and helped Quitsu down to the ground.
It nodded to her once and took off into the sky, sending her back a step with the force of its wings.
“Thank the goddess,” Hanae said, and Kai whirled around to meet her. Kai’s mother wore a colorful silk robe, her silky tresses corralled in a haphazard bun. It was still “nighttime” here.
Hanae wrinkled her nose as she pulled Kai into a hug. “You need a bath.”
Kai let out a tired laugh. “It was a tougher voyage than we expected.”
“We feared the worst,” Hanae said. “When Daarco came back. He told us…about the attacks. He thought you had been lost in the forest.”
“How is Daarco?” Emi asked as she approached, trying uselessly to dust off her uniform.
Hanae hesitated, an unreadable look flashing across her face. “He’s…being held in his quarters.”
“What?” Hiro asked, joining them. “Why?”
“Shortly after he returned…something happened.”
“What?” Kai asked in alarm.
“Geisa escaped.”
“What?” Kai shrieked.
“Someone helped her escape,” Hanae said. “Daarco knew she was there and is no friend of the moonburners. He’s the logical suspect.”
“How could he do this?” Kai fumed. “I thought…I thought we were making progress.”
“No,” Emi said. “It wasn’t Daarco.”
“And you base that on what, your extensive knowledge of him?” Kai snapped. “He tried to kill me twice. Come on, Hiro, you know he could be capable of this.”
Hiro hesitated, stroking his square jaw. “I…I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “Why would he free Geisa? It doesn’t make sense.”
“But he could do it, you know that,” Kai insisted. “He’s capable of it.” If not Daarco, who? She could hardly articulate the thought, let alone voice it out loud. If not Daarco…then they had another traitor in their midst. And she couldn’t face that.
“I’d like to talk to him,” Hiro said. “Before I make any judgments.”
“Of course,” Hanae said.
Kai closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “I need a hot meal and a hot bath. Please gather the council at nightfall. We have things to discuss.”
Kai lingered in her steaming bath until the water grew tepid, relishing the brief moment of stillness. After her bath, she dug into a fragrant meal of sweet glazed chicken, vegetables, and fluffy rice, further delaying the unpleasantness that she knew she would face at her council meeting. But eventually, after she pulled on a light dress of chartreuse linen and secured her wet hair in a bun, she knew she could delay no longer.
The others had already gathered in the council chamber when she arrived—Nanase, Hanae, Master Vita, and Chiya.
Kai settled into the chair at the head of the table. “Report?”
Her councilmembers exchanged glances, each hesitant to go first.
Nanase broke the silence, her face stormy. “You heard that Geisa has escaped.”
“Yes,” Kai said. “How?”
“The guards were overpowered and knocked unconscious yesterday during the day. One woman was stripped of her uniform. We believe the perpetrator dressed Geisa in a moonburner uniform and smuggled her out of the citadel. A koumori is gone. Just one.”
Just one. Meaning the perpetrator could still be at the citadel.
“This happened during sunlight hours?” Kai asked. It didn’t look good for Daarco. It would be the perfect time for a sunburner to aid an escape.
Nanase nodded grimly. “I apologize, Your Majesty. I am personally handling the moonburner guards’ discipline. I am also looking into why no one at the rookery was alerted to an unauthorized use of a koumori. It was an unacceptable oversi
ght in security, and I take full responsibility.”
“Very well,” Kai said. She knew Nanase would punish herself more harshly for the breach than anything Kai could impose on her. No need to rub salt in the wound. “And Daarco has been questioned?”
“He has been questioned and denies involvement,” Hanae said. “But we have not used true interrogation tactics for fear of harming diplomatic relations with Kita.”
“He’s a lying rat,” Chiya said under her breath.
Kai stifled a sigh. Chiya’s prejudices could be tiresome. She examined the other woman, considering her round face, silver ponytail, heavily-muscled arms, strong hands. Those were her father’s hands—she could see him in them, gentle enough to bottlefeed a newborn foal, strong enough to wrench a stray fencepost back into place. Gods, she missed those hands.
“Kai?” Hanae said, concern written on her face.
Kai started. They were all looking at her, no doubt waiting for some response. “Daarco,” she said. “I will question him with Hiro. See if we can get to the bottom of this.” Her necklace should reveal any lies—should tell her whether he was truly to blame. “Have we considered who it could be if it’s not him?”
“We’re looking into alternatives,” Nanase said. “No leads yet.”
“Keep looking,” Kai said. “Gods, I don’t want it to be Daarco, but I don’t want it not to be Daarco.” She blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes. “But we will deal with what comes. What other news? More bad, I assume.”
“I’m afraid so,” Master Vita said. “The food situation is only growing worse. The earthquake ruined many of the stores we had, and very few crops have been harvested. Now, we are hearing news of livestock sickness.”
Kai couldn’t keep the dismay off her face. “Treatable?”
Hanae shook her head. “It’s not something we’ve seen before. And it’s highly contagious. We are instructing people to slaughter all of the sick animals and burn them.”