by Claire Luana
After several hours of riding, they began to descend into the burnt expanse of the Tottori Desert. The air was clear and dry and the sun scorched Hiro’s back, thawing his frozen appendages.
They landed with a flurry of sand underneath alabaster dragon wings. Taiyo hopped off the back of his dragon and stood before its reptilian face, communicating with it in a language totally unknown to Hiro. The others dismounted as well, bodies stiff from hours clutching dragon hide.
“What is he doing?” Emi asked in a loud whisper.
“He seems to be…talking to it,” Hiro said.
“Why?” Emi asked, mirroring the question in Hiro’s own mind.
Hiro sighed and approached where the god and dragon were carrying on their conversation.
“Excuse me,” he interjected, leaning forward apologetically. “Is…is there some sort of problem?”
“I think this dragon has a mental deficiency,” Taiyo said, putting his hands on his hips. The dragon reared back slightly and growled at the comment. Perhaps the beast couldn’t speak their language, but it could clearly understand it.
Taiyo continued. “I asked it to bring me to Yoshai, but it has brought me to this wasteland instead. Is this some kind of joke, dragon?” he demanded.
“What does the dragon say?” Hiro asked, wanting to apologize to it for Taiyo’s rudeness.
“He says we are here,” Taiyo said, looking around. “But how could we be here? There is nothing but sand!”
“You’ve been gone for hundreds of years,” Hiro said. “And according to the histories, this desert wasn’t always here. Is it possible your city is…gone?”
Taiyo stroked his chin, considering this possibility. He closed his eyes and outstretched his hands. His body began to vibrate, humming slightly. Hiro took a step back.
Taiyo’s golden eyes popped open. “It is as you say. Yoshai has fallen into the earth. No doubt these tengu are to blame for burying our glorious city in this wasteland.”
Hiro’s shoulders sagged. His own dismay was mirrored on his friends’ faces. They had flown into the middle of the Tottori Desert for a promise of ancient weapons that were now buried under hundreds of years of sand.
Taiyo clenched his fists, his eyes flashing. “I’ll show them.” The god closed his eyes again, taking a deep breath. Golden light began to pour out of him like it had before. But it grew brighter, so bright that Hiro was forced to shield his eyes. The dragons took to the air in a flurry of wings and mirrored scales.
Hiro backed up, joining the others. The ground underneath them began to shake. Emi grabbed Daarco’s arm, steadying herself.
“What’s happening?” Stela asked, linking hands with Leilu.
“I don’t know,” Hiro said, “but I don’t like it.”
The shaking intensified, tossing Hiro forward to his knees. The sand shook around them like rain droplets falling on the surface of the ocean.
“I think we’re…rising,” Daarco said, awe in his voice.
Hiro saw that it was true, as the ground where they stood now seemed to tower above the desert floor. Shapes were forming—walls, windows, the contours of roofs and buildings beyond them.
“Is he building a city?” Emi asked in disbelief.
“I think he’s raising it,” Hiro said, realization dawning on him. “I think it was here…before.”
Minutes passed before the shaking stopped. Taiyo dropped his arms and opened his eyes. The light emanating from him faded and died away.
Hiro’s jaw dropped as he surveyed what Taiyo had unearthed. They were standing in the courtyard of a palace. A long line of steps descended before them into a tiered city of tan and red sandstone interspersed with pink-veined marble. Behind them, there were sweeping round towers reaching skyward, topped with glittering blue- and green-tiled domes. The city below held graceful arching bridges, sturdy streets, orderly homes and shops. It was magnificent.
Taiyo walked over to the edge, surveying the scene below. He moved stiffly and his face was drawn. Raising the city had taken a toll. “It’s a magnificent city,” he said. “Of course, we’ll have to wait for Tsuki to bring the water and grow the plants. That sort of thing was always her forte.”
“How many people lived here?” Emi marveled.
“Thousands,” Taiyo said. “It was our palace and home. This is where they will come for us.”
“When?” Hiro asked.
“Soon,” Taiyo said, pointing to the east. In the far distance, a tiny black dot was barely visible, marring the perfect apricot expanse of the desert.
“What’s that?” Daarco asked.
“Tengu,” Taiyo said grimly. “They must have sensed my work here. Ready yourselves for a battle, my brave burners.”
Hiro shielded his eyes from the sun and squinted. He couldn’t tell from this distance how many shapes made up that dot.
“Let’s get inside,” Hiro said. “Emi.” He pulled her aside. “Have Taiyo summon one of the dragons again. Fly to Kistana as fast as possible. Tell my father to send every sunburner in his army as quickly as possible.”
“You’ll need every fighter here,” Emi protested.
“It’s daytime. You’re a valiant warrior, but less help here than a sunburner. Even if you can bring five or ten, it could mean the difference…” He looked at the horizon. “Between us making it or not.”
“How will I convince him to believe me? I could be leading him into a trap.”
Hiro took off his signet ring. “He knows you from the Battle at the Gate. And give him this. Convince him. You must.”
“I’m going with her,” Daarco said, stepping up.
“You know you can’t,” Hiro said, at the same time that Emi said, “No.”
“I need you here. You’re my only other sunburner,” Hiro said.
Daarco ground his teeth but nodded sharply. He turned and swooped Emi into his arms, locking his lips with hers in a fervent kiss.
Emi twined her fingers in Daarco’s hair, leaning into him.
Hiro raised an eyebrow and caught Leilu’s eye. She was smirking.
“Ahem,” Hiro said, after what felt like long enough.
Emi broke off the kiss and grabbed the ring from Hiro’s outstretched hand. “I’ll come back,” she said breathlessly. “Just stay alive until I do.”
“You can count on it,” Daarco said.
“Let’s get inside,” Hiro said to the rest, and they jogged towards the entrance to the palace. The dark speck was growing nearer.
The inside of the palace was intricately crafted. Hiro wished he had time to take in the carvings on the mahogany shutters, the images rendered in mosaic tile, the richly-woven carpets and tapestries. To think that their history and culture had been sitting under the Tottori Desert all this time.
Taiyo led them through a set of sumptuous redwood doors, which opened to reveal a vast chamber lined along one wall with high arched windows.
“This is where we will make our stand,” Taiyo said.
Hiro looked around skeptically. “This room isn’t very defensible.”
“I need sunlight to be at my strongest,” Taiyo said. “As do you. Besides”—Taiyo opened the double doors to the next room, revealing walls filled with glittering weapons—“we’re close to the armory.”
The huge armory bristled like the inside of a giant porcupine. Bows and arrows, spears, swords, knives, maces, and more lay neatly on racks and wall hooks. Several suits of practice armor formed of padded leather plates stood in the corner.
“Many of the weapons in this room are specially designed to fight tengu,” Taiyo said. “I infused them with light myself. Tengu are creatures of darkness. The weapons don’t stop them completely, but they weaken them.”
They flocked to the walls and racks to pick out weapons, giving them test swings and jabs to get a feel for their balance and weight. Hiro was drawn to a set of double swords that hung in an X on the wall. The hilts were wrapped in sturdy red leather and their pommels were formed of twin
nuggets of unfinished amber.
“Fine choice,” Taiyo said, startling Hiro.
Hiro turned, circling his wrists, feeling the heft of the blades. “They’ll do.”
“Might I recommend adding a few of these to your arsenal?” Taiyo said, opening his hand to reveal two innocent-looking glass vials.
“What are they?” Hiro asked, taking one of the vials and holding it up to the light. It was two vials in one, Hiro realized, sealed on each end, with a division of glass in between. The liquid in one chamber was a murky silver, while the other was a liquid gold.
“A concoction dreamed up by one of my old allies.” Taiyo said, a wistful look in his eye. “An extraordinary burner—and an innovative fighter. When the glass breaks, the sun and moonlight combine into quite an explosion. Pure white light. Just throw it at an enemy, and it will break.”
Hiro’s eyes widened as he regarded the vial with newfound respect.
“These vials contain light? From a burner? How is that possible?” He recalled when his and Kai’s powers had merged in the Battle at the Gate last year, forming a powerful shield of white light.
“No idea.” Taiyo shrugged. “Like I said, he was innovative. There are more over there.” He motioned to a table in the corner of the room.
“Thank you,” Hiro said, putting the precious vials in his shirt pocket. Once again he was struck by how little they knew about burning. About their world. If the burners who had created such fantastic weapons hadn’t been able to defeat the tengu, what hope did he have?
The hours quickly passed, full of nervous energy and sharpening of blades. The burners had emerged from the armory bristling with weapons. Stela had slung a bow and a quiver of arrows over her shoulders, while Leilu bore a yari staff with a wicked curved blade. Daarco held a double-headed masakari axe as tall as he was and had shoved four daggers into his belt.
Hiro sent Leilu and Daarco to search the palace for any signs of water or food, after their restless pacing across the great hall began to drive him mad. Hiro suspected it was a futile effort, but it gave them a task and got them out of his hair, which Hiro counted as a small victory.
Stela seemed content to sit with Taiyo, asking him quiet questions about his former life and the movement of the stars and seasons.
As for Hiro, he sat with Ryu’s head on his lap, stroking his seishen’s thick mane. Ryu’s wound from Geisa’s blow had healed into a neat red line, and Hiro didn’t think it would trouble him during the battle. The seishen’s close ties with the spirit world lent added benefits to their mortal bodies. Hiro was a bit envious, but grateful, for Ryu’s quick healing abilities.
Daarco and Leilu jogged back into the great hall, their waterskins empty. Daarco leaned against the two huge doors, closing them with an ominous thud.
“They’re almost here,” Leilu said, breathless from their rapid return.
“No,” Taiyo said, standing and walking to one of the tall arched windows. “They have arrived.”
A flock of black creatures streaked past the window, descending into the courtyard outside with thuds and screeches.
Hiro motioned the others to him. “We keep Taiyo safe no matter what. Hopefully, Emi will return with reinforcements. But until she does, we’re all he has.”
“He is a god,” Leilu said in a low tone. “Don’t you think he could take some…you know…ownership over his own safety?”
“I’m sure he will join us in the fight,” Hiro said. “He did raise this place so we could access the weapons.”
“Do you think…” Stela began. She pursed her lips. “Never mind.”
“Out with it,” Hiro said.
“I’m sorry. I’m just wondering if it was a mistake to make our stand here. Should we have fled, gotten Taiyo to somewhere safer?”
“I wondered that too,” Hiro said. “But as far as we know, wherever we go, there could be tengu and Order of the Deshi there. Better to make a stand where we can defend ourselves. And hope reinforcements come.”
“We hold out as long as we can,” Daarco said.
“Do you think they’ll tell stories about this day?” Leilu asked with a grim smile.
“We woke a god, rode on dragons and saw a city rise out of the desert,” Hiro said. “And it’s only the afternoon. I’d say this is a day for the storybooks.”
As the words left Hiro’s mouth, the heavy doors at the far end of the hall burst open.
A nightmare flooded in.
CHAPTER 37
Kai stumbled forward through the sand, falling to her knees beside Colum’s prone body.
Chiya was already evaluating his condition. She held her fingers to his neck, feeling for a pulse.
Kai bit her lip, watching with wide eyes. How could he have survived a blow like that?
“I feel something,” Chiya said, her shoulders sagging in relief.
Kai closed her eyes briefly, gratitude welling through her.
“Colum.” Chiya shook his shoulders gently. “Colum, wake up.”
He moaned, but his eyes remained closed.
Chiya narrowed her eyes, and in one swift motion, she unstopped her canteen and dumped the contents over his face.
Colum’s eyes flew open and he gasped for air, his hands clutching his chest.
Tears sprang to Kai’s eyes as she and Chiya exchanged a look of relief. Then they quickly looked away from each other, realizing that they had unfinished business between them.
“Colum,” Kai said. “It’s a miracle you’re alive. Jurou got you with a fireball.”
“You don’t think…” He coughed weakly. “I’d die without getting paid?”
Kai laughed out loud. “Of course not. You wouldn’t let me off that easy.”
“Exactly. Now help me up.”
Kai and Chiya helped Colum into a seated position in the sand.
The three humans and two seishen looked back at the island in dismay. Every living thing was on fire, the flames burning tall and hot behind them, palm leaves curling and smoking in the heat. Their koumori had fled; Kai could see their dark forms in the distance headed to the next island.
“We’re trapped,” Chiya said.
“Can we swim for the next island?” Colum asked.
“Not in your condition. Or mine,” Kai said, struggling to take a deep breath. “Quitsu, can you reach the koumori? Or another seishen?”
“I can’t speak to koumori telepathically, and we’re too far from other burners to reach any seishen,” he said. “I’m sorry.”
“Could you try your fancy new power?” Colum asked, pointing to the handprint on Kai’s chest.
“I don’t know what it could do to help us,” Kai lamented. “It doesn’t cooperate when I ask it to.”
Kai looked back at the flaming island and swallowed, her dry throat sticking. Maybe this island would be all of their graves.
Chiya stood in a fit of rage, her hands balled into fists at her side. “How could you let this happen, Kai? I thought we were freeing the goddess so she could help us! Not so we could deliver her to the tengu wrapped with a bow!”
“I…” Kai faltered. “I missed it. I wanted so badly to believe we had found a solution…I missed the signs. I should have realized there was something off about Jurou.”
She should have seen it. How he’d showed up unannounced. How he had conveniently discovered the scroll that started them on this whole wretched course. Geisa’s escape, still unexplained. She should have seen through him. But he was so helpful, so unassuming. And she had been desperate for a way to fight the tengu. “Do you think the others…?” She thought of Hiro, Emi and their team. Were they under attack as well?
“Probably!” Chiya said. “If they’ve freed Taiyo, it’s only a matter of time until the Order swoops in to kill him. It’s inexcusable. You had a responsibility to all of us! And here you were harboring secrets, lying, making plans that would mean our downfall! You’re no different than Airi.”
Chiya’s words were like a slap in the face. B
ut a slap that Kai had been waiting for. That she almost welcomed. Finally, someone had spoken aloud what the silent voice inside her had whispered all along. She wasn’t fit to be queen. She was no different than Airi.
“Now, now,” Colum said. “No need to twist the knife. I’ve worked for several Miinan queens now, and I can say without a doubt that Kai is nothing like Airi, or your grandmother, Isia.”
Kai felt ridiculously grateful for Colum’s kindness, a small bloom in a barren wasteland of fear and shame and disappointment.
“Let’s not take it out on each other. We know who our enemy is, and we aren’t done fighting. It’s always darkest before the dawn,” Colum said.
“It’s midmorning,” Chiya said flatly.
“It’s a metaphor,” Colum said. “Things get worse before they get better. For instance. Take us at this moment. Stranded on this burning island with no water, no transport, grievous wounds… With only two powerless moonburners, two over-important rodents, and one daring adventurer to save the day.”
Quitsu and Tanu growled, and Chiya crossed her arms menacingly.
Colum held up his hand. “But take us now, thirty seconds later, when the same ragtag group has discovered a boat.”
“We have?” Kai asked.
Colum pointed behind them, where the little teal boat lay forgotten, swamped in the surf, pushed up onto the sand of the beach with each beating wave.
“Colum, you’re a genius!” Kai said, springing at him with a fierce hug.
As they rowed through the surf, Kai found herself looking back at the burning wreck of what had once been a tiny paradise. It had gone all wrong.
They hopped out as the boat scraped onto the sandy shore of the nearest island. Colum pulled the teal boat out of the water.
“Now what?” he asked.
Kai let out a sharp whistle to call their koumori. Kai said a silent prayer to Tsuki that they hadn’t flown too far. Then she laughed, a harsh sound escaping her.
“What?” Colum asked.
“I just prayed. Force of habit. I guess it’s time to stop doing that, now that we’ve doomed Tsuki to death.”