The Moonburner Cycle

by Claire Luana

  Kai remembered the fateful day in the citadel courtyard when Chiya had signed up for Geisa’s special “mission.” She shuddered at the truth of it, that the women had been used as part of an experimental burner breeding facility.

  “That was unforgivable,” Kai said quietly. It wasn’t until she learned about the facility that she had known that former Queen Airi was well and truly mad.

  “I never believed that you could defeat Airi,” Chiya admitted.

  “I’m not sure I did either,” Kai said ruefully. “But it seemed like someone needed to try.”

  “That’s…” Chiya paused for a moment. “That’s what I respect about you. You try, even when it’s not easy or certain. In fact, when it seems impossible.”

  “So I’m completely impractical,” Kai said with a chuckle.

  “Basically.” Chiya laughed too.

  “I couldn’t have done it alone,” Kai said. “You played a big part in defeating Airi. Nanase too. And Hiro and Quitsu. A ruler is only as good as the people supporting her.”

  Chiya nodded. “I don’t envy you. Being queen.”

  Kai’s heart thudded. They were so close to the truth. Was now the time to tell Chiya? “You’ve never thought about being queen?”

  “I always daydreamed about being Nanase as a kid,” Chiya said. “Not Airi.”

  “Nanase is pretty inspiring,” Kai said.

  “Agreed. And she…took me under her wing. There were a few of us at the citadel who had been rescued from the desert,” Chiya said. “She made sure we were taken care of. She was the closest thing I had to a mother.”

  Kai looked at the other woman, studying the profile of her face. Kai could see her father, Raiden, in that face—the strong jaw, the bright eyes. It was so unfair that they had never known each other and never would. She saw Hanae too, the arc of Chiya’s eyebrows, the fine strands of her hair. It wasn’t too late for Hanae and Chiya. Kai couldn’t keep this secret from Chiya any longer.

  “Chiya…” Kai said.

  But she didn’t get to finish her sentence because Chiya leaped up. “I’ve got it!”

  Kai blinked, her curiosity overcoming the momentum she had gained towards revealing Chiya’s heritage. “Tell me.”

  “Do you remember in Nanase’s class when she talked about using the world around you in your burning?”

  “I had the shortened ‘we’re going to war’ curriculum,” Kai said. “I’m not sure if we actually covered that.”

  “Oh,” Chiya said, disappointed. “Well, she always said a fighter or burner shouldn’t look inward for their power but should look outward, to their surroundings.”

  “Okay…” Kai said, restraining herself from shaking Chiya and telling her to get to the point.

  “I was exploring our surroundings with my burning. Delving into the land under the island, the sea floor. I think this island chain was created by a volcano.”

  Kai’s ears perked up. Volcano meant heat, which meant something they could control with burning.

  Chiya went on. “There’s a network of undersea vents along the island. If we could heat one to boiling, if we were controlled about it, we could send a jet of hot water up through the surface right under Tsuki, and sort of shoot her up to the surface.”

  “Heat rises,” Kai said, working through the scenario in her head. “But once she was on the surface, how would we move her to the shore?”

  “If we could keep her buoyant, perhaps we could snag her with a rope and tow her to shore?”

  “Wouldn’t the boat boil in the hot water?” Kai asked, trying to work through the problems.

  “We could have one burner in the boat, cooling the water underneath it, while the other works the vents,” Chiya suggested.

  “It…it could work,” Kai said. Excitement flooded her before quickly dampening. It was time to share the bitter truth. “Only…I…can’t moonburn anymore.”

  “What?” Chiya’s voice was low.

  “This handprint,” Kai said. “Ever since I woke up with it, I haven’t been able to access moonlight. Instead, I’m able to burn the white light, like what you get when moon and sunlight are combined.”

  “That light seems vastly more powerful than moonlight,” Chiya said. “Couldn’t you use it on the vents?”

  “It’s also vastly harder to control. I’m not sure it works on the same principles as moonlight.”

  “It’s still worth a try, right?”

  “Agreed,” Kai said. It was the only plan they had.

  Chiya rose and offered Kai her hand. Kai took it, and they headed back towards the fire pit, where it looked like Colum and Jurou had dozed off.

  “Wake up,” Kai said, clapping her hands. “Chiya has an idea.”

  Kai and Chiya excitedly explained the plan. When they were done, the two men stared at them with wide eyes.

  Colum recovered first. “You expect me to stand in a leaky ol’ rowboat over boiling water, lasso a god in a stone box with a bit of rope, and tow her to shore? Without dying?”

  Kai nodded. “That sums it up.”

  He pondered this for a moment, before he shrugged. “I’m in.”

  “Maybe we should wait until sunrise,” Jurou said. “We will be better able to see what we are working with.”

  “We need multiple burners to make this work,” Kai said, shaking her head. “Chiya’s familiar with the vents. We do it now. This can work. Right, Chiya?”

  “It can work,” Chiya said, though Kai wished it was with a bit more confidence.

  And so Kai found herself with Colum in the little wooden boat, floating just shy of the glowing spot that marked Tsuki’s resting place. Chiya stood on shore, preparing to superheat the vents.

  “Ready?” Chiya called from the shore.

  “Ready!” Kai called, exchanging a look with Colum.

  “I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my day,” Colum said, “but this might be the dumbest.”

  “We’ll find out,” Kai said.

  The water began to roil as Chiya poured heat into the undersea vents.

  “Maybe we should back up a bit,” Kai said nervously, but Colum was already rowing them farther from the disturbance.

  Kai opened herself to the raging torrent of alabaster light, wishing that it was moonlight’s sweet calming essence. Please, creator, Kai prayed, you gave me this power; help me use it to save Tsuki. She filled her qi with light in a strained effort, opening her senses to the ocean around her, to the grains of wood on the boat, to the sweat beading Colum’s brow. She burned the light beneath the boat, wrapping it in a protective cocoon between them and the ocean as a jet of superheated water and steam blasted up a stone’s throw away.

  Kai hastily split her focus, wrapping the cocoon over them so the boiling water pattered harmlessly against a roof of pure energy. She hardly understood what she was doing, but her instincts seemed to know the right approach.

  The water continued to churn and boil. Kai’s heart hammered and her breath came gasping in her throat as she struggled to maintain her focus, grappling with the strength of the light to keep their little boat safe amongst the chaos.

  “She’s up,” Chiya screamed, barely audible over the roar of the water and steam. Amongst the roiling sea, a dark gray mass surfaced, churning about in the waves.

  Colum, bathed in brilliant light, screamed over the roar of the boiling sea, “Get rid of this blasted roof! I can’t throw the rope!”

  Kai hastily pulled at the power, but it was like trying to trap a thunderstorm in a teapot. She silently cursed the creator for giving her power but no direction for how to use it. Finally, after precious seconds ticked by, through sheer force of will, Kai successfully moved the white light protecting them above, joining it with the light below.

  Colum, squinting against the brilliant glow beneath them, took a rope and circled it over his head, preparing to throw at the mass of coral and stone. Kai prayed that the rope would catch on something so they could tow Tsuki to shore.

&n
bsp; He let the loop of rope go, and it soared into the boiling water, flying true. He pulled it tight, but it recoiled, coming back to them. He hadn’t caught anything.

  As Colum hauled the rope back up, he hissed and dropped it, cradling his hand. It had been superheated in the water. He grabbed a piece of burlap from the bottom of the boat and used it as a rudimentary glove to gather and coil the rope again.

  Colum circled the rope again and tossed it. Again, it looked to be on target, but it failed to snag on anything amidst the roiling water.

  He pulled it back. “It’s not working! We’ll need to go get her ourselves.”

  “I’m not strong enough,” Kai said. Sweat poured from her and her heart thundered in her chest. She couldn’t keep this up much longer. “We’d boil to death. You have to make the rope work.”

  “Kai,” Chiya called. Her voice held a tinge of desperation. “Hurry!”

  “You can do it,” Kai said.

  Colum stood in the rocking boat, circled the rope over his head, and let it go. This time, it snagged on a knob of coral sticking off the gray stone slab. “Yes!” he said.

  He tossed the end of the rope to Kai, who tied it off quickly, while Colum sat back down at the oars and began rowing towards the shore.

  “We’ve got her!” Kai hollered, feeling her strength waning. Chiya was supposed to keep the pressure of the vent under their location, slowly allowing Tsuki to move along the surface of the water. It was complex burning, and Kai knew Chiya must be as exhausted as she.

  As they neared the shore, the bubbling in the water subsided. The rope went taught as the weight of the stone coffin began to sink back into the water. The stern of the rowboat dipped lower in the water.

  “I’m out of vents,” Chiya yelled, her voice strangled.

  She and Jurou were down at the waterline now.

  “Row, Colum!” Kai said, letting the rope out a little bit, relieving the weight on the boat.

  Colum strained against the oars with each stroke, sweat beading his brow, the muscles in his arms straining in the early morning light. Kai tried to divert a piece of the white light to support the box, but her focus trembled and almost broke. She was too weak, too drained from the effort of keeping their little boat safe.

  The bow of the boat hit the sand of the shore and Kai leaped out into the waist-deep water.

  “Come on,” she cried.

  The others splashed through the surf, grabbing the four corners of the stone crypt that bore their goddess. The tumult of the waves helped them bear her towards the shore, but they strained with quivering muscles against the pull when the rhythmic waves rushed out to sea.

  Slowly, inch over inch, they heaved and pulled the stone up onto the beach. Finally, at long last, they collapsed, panting onto the sand. They had done it.

  CHAPTER 34

  As Hiro and Geisa walked, a crystalline structure took shape in the moonlight: a raised dais of ice—tapered square platforms placed on top of each other. Hiro scrambled for an idea, a play. If he could knock Geisa out, he might be able to escape. Or kill her. He couldn’t leave her out there, free to wreak whatever havoc she planned. If he could get the sword and knock her out before she had time to boil him alive with her moonburning, he might be able to get the upper hand.

  “I see you, Hiro, thinking, tensing those thick neck muscles of yours,” Geisa said. “Do you think you’re faster than me? Personally, I don’t. But I’m curious to find out.”

  Maybe he was faster than her with the element of surprise, but it was clear he didn’t have it. But he had to try something.

  “Up,” she said, prodding him with the sword.

  He took a step up the first stair. Taiyo was on the platform above, an icy crypt illuminated by the moonlight. It was now or never. He needed to make his move. Hiro tensed and whirled, knocking the sword away. As he did, Ryu exploded out of the darkness behind Geisa, flattening her against the stairs with a sickening thud.

  Geisa lay still. Blood trickled down her face and her silver hair spread across the ice like a halo beneath her. Her chest still rose and fell with breath. Unconscious, not dead. Hiro realized with a sinking feeling that he had to kill her, and that he only had seconds to do it. He didn’t relish the idea of killing a helpless woman, even one as twisted as Geisa. But he knew it had to be done. The chance of her waking up and boiling his blood in an instant was too great.

  He drew his sword and approached Geisa’s prone form with more confidence than he felt. She looked peaceful. With a deep breath, he lifted his sword and plunged it towards her heart.

  Her eyes flew open and she spun to the side. His blade pierced the ice where she had lain a second before.

  She sprang to her feet, her eyes rolling like a wild animal. Hiro and Ryu circled her warily, placing their feet carefully on the thick ice.

  Hiro lunged at her and she danced out of the way of his blade. The handle of his sword grew warm and then hot until he was forced to drop it, cradling his burned hand. She smiled. She was toying with him.

  “What do you think is the most painful way to die? I want Kai to know that you suffered.”

  “I’m not afraid to die,” Hiro said.

  “You may not be,” Geisa said. “But there are some fates worse than death. Believe me, I know.” She whirled and burned a jet of fire directly at Ryu.

  “No!” Hiro cried.

  Ryu was tossed from the icy platform onto the snow below. He lay still, his blackened fur smoking.

  Hiro grabbed his knife from his belt and ran at her with a howl of grief and rage. She was ready. An arc of lightning coursed through his body, lancing white hot pain through his very soul. He collapsed to his knees and she stood over him, a sick smile on her face.

  I’m so sorry, Kai, Hiro thought, closing his eyes.

  Another blast of heat warmed his face, but then passed. He opened his eyes.

  Emi was striding up the stairs, a look of unearthly fury on her face. Leilu and Stela flanked her. Daarco trailed behind, his sword drawn.

  Geisa stumbled to her feet and shot gouts of flame in quick succession at the other women.

  And then the real fireworks began. Geisa and the other moonburners threw fireball after fireball at one another. Emi and the other burners enjoyed the benefit of superior numbers, and they slowly pushed Geisa back over the platform. But Geisa was tricky and fast. She used heat to melt the ice under Leilu’s feet and the woman fell into a well of frigid water, slipping into the darkness before surfacing again with a shuddering gasp. Daarco pulled her out; she was shivering and blue before she flooded heat through herself and the water dried from her clothes.

  Geisa sent a jet of boiling steam at Emi, but Emi diffused the heat with a motion, letting the water vapor flow around her like she was opening a set of curtains. She was now a few paces from Geisa, who backed onto the snow, her face strained.

  “Time to go,” Geisa said, and a flash of light blinded them. When Hiro regained his vision she was fleeing, sprinting away from the platform with Emi on her tail.

  “The platform!” Stela shouted. “She melted it!”

  Hiro backed up as a spider web of cracks sped through the surface of the ice. The heavy weight of the icy tomb was too much, and the platform cracked underneath, one half of it beginning to tilt and slide into the water beneath.

  “Freeze it back!” Hiro shouted. “If it sinks, we’ll lose him!”

  Leilu and Stela focused on pulling heat from the mass of water and ice before them, and Hiro sighed with relief as the ice grew cloudy and firmed.

  Hiro ran to where Ryu lay smoking in the snow. His golden flank was charred and his eyes were closed, but he was still breathing. Still warm.

  Stela ran to his side and began delving Ryu with moonlight. “He’s stunned,” she said. “But he should live. I can speed the healing process by applying heat to the right areas.”

  “Do it,” Hiro whispered.

  Hiro watched with his heart in his throat as she worked, moving he
r hands over Ryu’s still body. He breathed out a huge sigh of relief when Ryu opened his great amber eyes. Hiro leaned forward, resting his head on his seishen’s shoulder. Thank you, Taiyo, for sparing him, Hiro thought.

  Ryu stood unsteadily and followed Hiro back to the platform.

  The icy tomb was carved in the image of a man lying down, his eyes closed. He held a cup in his hands, the base resting on his chest, as if offering whatever liquid it contained to the heavens. The detail of the man’s fine face and rich clothing was exquisite. Beneath the ice, it was just possible to make out a darkness, a form.

  Emi climbed the steps slowly, approaching from behind him. She drew in a shaky breath, resting her hands on her knees. “I didn’t catch her. She tripped me up and was gone in a mass of wind and snow. I’m sorry.”

  Hiro shook his head. “You saved my life. We stopped whatever Geisa was planning. We should consider it a victory.”

  “What was she trying to do?” Daarco asked.

  “She seemed to think…that she could kill Taiyo. If we released him.”

  “That’s disconcerting,” Leilu said, her arms crossed. “Is she mad?”

  “Maybe,” Hiro said. “But somehow…I don’t think so.”

  “She could be trying to throw us off our mission,” Emi said. “Nothing’s changed. We’re here to free Taiyo, so I say we do it.”

  The others nodded. “If we don’t do this,” Stela said, “the tengu win. It’s a risk we have to take.”

  Hiro nodded. He still clutched his knife in his right hand. He loosened his fingers on the grip and stepped up next to the icy visage of Taiyo.

  “The cup,” Ryu rumbled. “Put it in the cup.”

  Hiro drew a thin line across the meat of his left palm, wincing slightly as the knife cut into his skin. He held his fist over the cup, letting the blood drain into the icy chalice. As the drops of red blood slid into the clear cup, a light burst from inside the coffin.

  Taiyo was waking.

  Golden light poured from the block of ice where Taiyo lay. Cracks ran along the sides, growing and snaking until the top cracked into pieces, showering them with bits of ice and snow. They stood in silence as a man sat up, looking around in apparent confusion.