Sunburner (Moonburner Cycle Book 2)

by Claire Luana

  “We?” Chiya asked, her voice still low.

  “Me and my mother. Our…mother,” Kai said.

  “I had a mother…and a sister…and you didn’t tell me? You used me all this time, lied to me?”

  “Please, Chiya. I will tell you everything you want to know, but right now, we need to free Tsuki.”

  “That’s all I’m here for, isn’t it. My blood. Well, here you go.” She pulled out a dagger and sliced her forearm, stepping up to the stone box and letting the blood drip into the open cup. “Are you happy? Now will you tell me the truth?” Chiya rounded on her, the knife still in her hand.

  A silver light emanated from the stone tomb, running its way along the edges of the lid. But Kai couldn’t look away from Chiya, from the look of betrayal and anger on her sister’s face.

  “I’m so sorry I kept this from you, you must believe that it ate me up inside. It was necessary,” Kai said lamely. “I wanted to tell you, but I was worried that it would destabilize everything when things were already going to hell. We needed to defeat the tengu before we could process this and decide what to do.”

  “Decide what to do?”

  The top of the stone crypt cracked in two with a loud snap, and the two pieces fell to the earth with a thud.

  Kai glanced at the box for a moment, but her gaze was pulled back to Chiya at the chill in her next words.

  “Oh, yes, decide. Because I am the rightful heir, aren’t I? You’re an…impostor.”

  “We didn’t know you were royal, Chiya. My mother thought her first child had died. It wasn’t like I set out to take your throne!” Kai said. “I never wanted to be queen. Do you think I wanted all of this responsibility at eighteen?”

  “Uh…Kai,” Colum said.

  “What?” Kai exploded, turning to face the other man.

  Then she realized that a young woman was sitting up in the stone box, rubbing her face. Tsuki had awoken. Kai had been so intent on Chiya she had missed it. Double curse Colum!

  As she moved towards the goddess to bow low and welcome her back to the world, Kai realized that the air around her was crackling with energy, the strange sensation of a sunburner burning.

  “Jurou?” Kai said. “What are you doing?”

  The man had been silent during this exchange, hovering near the stone box. Now, his face was radiant, his eyes alight with happiness at the sight of the goddess. But the laugh that bubbled forth from his unassuming throat chilled her.

  His hands twitched and a blast of fire roared straight at Tsuki.

  Colum moved faster than Kai would have thought possible. He leaped in front of the flames, taking the full brunt of the heat to his shoulder. He fell to the sand, smoke curling from his torso.

  Kai and Chiya dove out of the way as Jurou burned again, sending flames shooting in each of their directions. But Kai wasn’t quick enough.

  A blast of heat hit her in the chest, and with a flash of pain, her vision turned red. Then black.

  Kai opened her eyes to find them gritty with sand. The world was tilting strangely, and each rocking movement sent shudders of pain through her body, leaving her breathless.

  The rocking stopped and Kai felt her body lowered into the sand. She struggled to move, her ears ringing, her eyes blurred with tears. “What…?” she croaked.

  Chiya’s face swam into view. The look she bore was angry but concerned. “Good,” she said. “You’re awake. That blasted scar seems to have saved your life.”

  Kai touched her chest with trembling fingers and hissed as her fingers made contact with puckered, blistered flesh. A circle of angry burns surrounded the handprint. But that was preferable to being dead.

  A groan escaped as Kai rolled onto her stomach in the sand. Chiya had dragged her into the protection of the forest, away from the intensity of the fire that Jurou shot at them.

  “He herded us,” Chiya said. “Away from Tsuki.”

  Kai tried to think, her mind searching for a way to get Tsuki away from Jurou, but her thoughts felt like honey on a winter day. Chiya was all but defenseless against a sunburner in daytime. Colum was down. But Kai had the white light. She could stop him.

  Kai opened her qi to the light to pull the power into herself. The raging torrent ripped through her mind, blasting her head with a searing pain that turned her stomach and blinded her vision. Kai retched into the soft sand, a cold sweat pricking across her body. She slammed her mental doors with a gasp, closing herself off from the light. The pain subsided.

  “I can’t…burn.” Kai gasped, too shaky to even hold her head up.

  “Screw this,” Chiya said, drawing her sword. “I’m going for it.”

  She rose and darted forward to take Jurou from behind.

  But he must have sensed her. He sent a jet of white hot flame in an arc around him and Tsuki, melting the sand into a bubbling line of molten glass.

  Chiya fell back into the sand, scrambling away from the inferno. There was no jumping over that arc. Not if she meant to live.

  Tears rose in Kai’s eyes unbidden, not from the heat or smoke of the flames. They were so close. They had found the goddess. And freed her. And now this?

  Kai dragged herself to her knees, wiping the sand and sick from her face.

  “Jurou!” she shouted, her voice hoarse. “Whatever you think you’re doing, don’t! Help us save this world! Give Tsuki back to us!”

  He sneered as he tightened the final strap of his koumori’s harness. The beast was clicking nervously at the flames, huddling close to the sea waves. He strode to stand across the line of fire from her. Gone were his shaky hands, his nervous mannerisms, his hunched scholar’s shoulders. This man stood tall as he looked down on her.

  “I’m not interested in saving this world,” he said. “I will remake it into a world of darkness and fire. No more burners or seishen”—he spit the word—“no more kings or queens. The tengu have promised me that.”

  “The tengu are using you,” Kai managed. “They’ll discard you as soon as you’ve outlived your usefulness.”

  “Even now, your ignorance astounds me,” he said. “I am using them! Just as I used you! The scroll, the blood of the heir, you never would have gotten this far without me leading you by the nose. It wasn’t the tengu who trapped the god and goddess, it was your precious burners! They hid them to protect them. And now you’ve uncovered them for me once again. I must thank you. Without your assistance, I never would have made it this far. You have the privilege of knowing that you played an integral part in the unmaking of this world.”

  Kai’s mind reeled. Had she truly undone what Hamaio and her followers had died hundreds of years ago for?

  “What will you do?” Kai asked, afraid of the answer.

  “I will kill your precious goddess and use her silver blood to rip open the seal between this world and the spirit world.” He smiled grimly. “I was going to kill you. But I wouldn’t deprive you of the moment when the moon goes dark for all eternity. And then the sun.” He strode back to his koumori, picking Tsuki up and throwing the goddess over his shoulder like a sack of grain. He trussed her in front of the saddle, tying her down. Tsuki looked faint, eyes blinking in confusion as Jurou bound her to the saddle. Why didn’t she do something…god-like to defend herself?

  Hiro. Emi. Kai’s heart twanged painfully. Were they under attack too? Already dead? She looked at the sun hanging over the horizon in the east. Taiyo wasn’t dead yet. Maybe Kai could stop it somehow…but she couldn’t even stand.

  Kai knelt in the sand numbly as Jurou’s koumori took flight. Through the shimmering heat and flames, she vaguely registered Chiya moving around the arc of fire to fall to her knees beside Colum, feeling his pulse. At her side, Quitsu called out to her.

  But her eyes were locked with Jurou’s own—black and cruel in the firelight. As his koumori rose in the air, he burned a blast of fire, engulfing the island’s lush forest in flames.

  It was all going up in flames.

  Riding a dragon wa
s nothing like flying on a golden eagle. The ride was smooth and fast; the wind chilled Hiro’s face, whistled in his ears. In front of him flew Taiyo, the sun god. His god. That he had worshipped all his life.

  The god was nothing like he’d expected. He had expected someone powerful and forbidding, like the legendary warriors of sunburner lore. Instead, the god seemed almost…absentminded. Hiro wondered if hundreds of years frozen in ice had…damaged him somehow. He shook the thought aside. Clearly the god still had some power, or he wouldn’t have been able to summon these dragons. Hopefully, these weapons he spoke of would be enough. They had to be enough.

  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?