The Shadow Soul (A Dance of Dragons)

by Kaitlyn Davis

  "When do you think?" Jinji asked, ignoring the mention of her tribe. She couldn't—wouldn't—tell Rhen the truth until she knew he had magic inside of him, until she knew he would believe her.

  He stopped moving in the middle of the room, jaw dropping open as he slowly spun to face her. His pupils dilated. His nostrils flared wide. Jinji noticed his hands begin to shake until they were balled into tight, trembling fists.

  "The Naming," he said, deep and growling. Rhen took a long breath. "It's so obvious. At the ceremony, my nephew will be given a name of Whyl. It symbolizes the future of the kingdom. Every lord and lady will be there. Every knight. The outer cities will be defenseless. It's what he's been waiting for all this time, a moment when we're all distracted."

  Rhen's feet seemed to step of their own accord. His mind was elsewhere. Jinji saw the vacant absence in his eyes, the mounting dread. He reminded Jinji of a caged animal. His movements became quicker, jerkier. The wooden walls of the small room were like bars, containing him.

  She sat in wonder, wishing there was something she could do to help. But there was something behind his expression that stopped her—some memory playing in his head. Her thoughts filtered back to the afternoon not too long ago, when she was sitting with Rhen on the crow's nest—her first sea adventure. He had spoken of a younger brother, a brother who had been killed. A murder he had tried to stop but couldn’t.

  And suddenly it became clear—his hunched shoulders, flexed muscles. He just cared so much. About his family, his people. He cared. Why else would he have taken in a lost little boy? Why else?

  Jinji opened her mouth, not sure of what would come out, but it was only air.

  "The Naming," Rhen spoke right before her, stealing the words from her throat, "it is likely in two weeks, maybe less." He gripped his skull, sinking back against a wall. "I'll be too late. We'll be there after all of the guests have arrived. They won't have time to send word, to prepare their homes. We'll all be too late."

  "Rhen," she said softly, "I'm sure everyone is prepared. It cannot be as bad as you say."

  He nodded, trying to convince himself. "You're right. They would have left a second in command; the men must be prepared for an attack when the lord of the city is gone. The people would not be helpless."

  "Of course not," she quickly agreed, "and you will talk to your father as soon as we arrive. There will be time."

  "There will be time," he repeated, "everything will be fine."

  He walked back to the desk, grabbing another piece of fruit before crashing onto the bed again.

  "I need to think on lighter things, Jin, or I will go crazy trapped on this ship for a week."

  "What sorts of things?" She leaned back in her chair, relaxing just slightly now that he seemed more composed.

  "Tell me about the princess," he sighed.

  Her body went rigid.

  Jinji began to cough, doubling over in her seat and clutching her stomach.

  "Why?" She squeaked.

  "Because I cannot stop picturing the face hidden behind that veil of hers…or the body under that golden dress."

  "She was in a carriage." Jinji rolled her eyes. She was very sure that Rhen had seen plenty of women—what was hidden under any dress was no mystery. She shivered, remembering the tavern. Some women left little to question even fully clothed.

  "No, I saw her before. She was holding me."

  Jinji jerked, widening her eyes as she stared at Rhen, but he was looking dreamily at a painting of storm clouds on the wall.

  "Holding you?" Her voice was airy. Shallow.

  "I have this memory." He paused, smiled. "A golden-veiled woman cradled my head in her lap, ran her fingers over my cheeks, and then it ends. It had to have been the princess, right?"

  It was me! She almost yelled.

  Instead, Jinji clapped her hands over her mouth, stuffing the proclamation back down her neck, swallowing it down her dry throat.

  All she could do was nod.

  "I knew it," he said, leaning forward. "This sounds odd, but I felt like maybe I knew her, somehow. Her eyes looked familiar, golden-speckled and warm."

  Jinji immediately studied the floorboard beneath her feet.

  "I think her eyes were blue," she mumbled.

  Rhen shrugged. "Maybe."

  "I spent more time with her, they were definitely blue."

  "That's why you must tell me about her, distract me." He sighed. "How did you even meet? How did you get her to help rescue me?"

  Jinji pursed her lips, unsure of what to say without giving her powers of illusion away—a secret she would not share, ever.

  At her silence, Rhen looked up, frowning.

  "Come to think of it, how did you even get into the palace?"

  "I…" Jinji took a deep breath, swallowing the saliva now pooling in her mouth. "I snuck onto one of the flying platforms."

  "The flying plat…oh, the giant pulleys." His eyebrows lifted. "The gods, Jin! How?"

  "Well, Captain Pygott, he threw me from the ship and I swam under the docks, trying to remain hidden. I saw the platforms and knew it would be my only chance, so when no one was looking I swam over and climbed into one of the boxes."

  Jinji tensed. She hated talking this much. Her limbs felt squirmy as her chest squeezed with pressure.

  "Genius." He shook his head in awe. "What next?"

  "Um," she paused, eyes flickering around the room. "I stayed hidden in the box, I felt someone carry me and then set me down. After a while, I got out of the box and realized I was in the palace."

  Rhen's eyes started to narrow.

  "How did you meet the princess?"

  "Well, I was running through the halls trying to find you when I came upon her crying. She was sad, someone she loved had just been killed." Jinji was hoping that thought would distract him.

  It didn’t.

  He leaned closer, eyes pinning her to her seat.

  "And you didn't run into anyone? No guards?"

  "No," she shook her head. "No, the guards were all with you. The princess hid me in a servant's robe. She knew her father had taken you to the garden, and she convinced one of the guards, her friend, to help. When no one was looking, we pulled you away from the pool. He carried you to the carriage, hid you in her traveling box."

  Jinji was rambling. She felt words tumble unbidden from her lips. Felt them fall to the ground, crashing every time. Each sound made her wince.

  Outright disbelief shone in Rhen's eyes.

  "So you just walked into the palace, befriended the princess, and walked out?" The sarcasm was not lost on her.

  "I was very lucky," she said, playing innocent. "You were very lucky, too."

  Rhen sat back as she said it. She could see him weigh the words—almost believe them—but his gaze sharpened.

  "We never did get a chance to talk about the battle against the Ourthuri, the one aboard the Old Maid."

  "Hmm?"

  She squeezed her palms together, turning away from Rhen, observing the items on the captain's desk. Papers. A feather. A dark black liquid.

  There were scrawls all over the pages, symbols she could not read or understand. But they meant something. There were charts with the images Rhen had once described to her—maps. She looked closer. One of those depicted her home. Did it mean anything that she could not say which?

  "Jin, what are you hiding?"

  There was a light next to her, a flame flickering inside a warm glass bulb. The oil was low. The cloth holding the flame looked short.

  "I really do not know what you mean, Rhen."

  "I think you do, or you would not be so panicked right now."

  Jinji leveled her gaze, meeting his eye.

  "What are you hiding?" She asked.

  As soon as the words were spoken, the spirits sprung to life in her eyes—the fire spirits. They circled his figure, dancing around him like a living flame. Only this time, they extended beyond him, stretching out from his arm, connecting him to the light.
The fire arched in his direction, calling for him.

  With no plan, no thought but a need to know the truth, to know if Rhen was like her and held magic in his bones, Jinji acted.

  She did not want to be questioned any more.

  She did not want to have questions any more.

  She just wanted to know, for the first time in a long time, that maybe she wasn't completely alone.

  Reaching her hand to the side, she gripped the glass and threw the light onto the floor between them. It crashed, breaking into a thousand pieces, sparking as oil slipped over the floor.

  "Jin!" Rhen shouted, jumping back.

  The flames grew, spreading with the spill then sinking into the wood.

  Jinji looked away, looked at Rhen. He was mesmerized by the fire.

  Do it, she thought. She didn’t know what it was, but there was something the spirits were trying to show her.

  Something about Rhen they needed her to know.

  The flames grew, burning against dry wood, creating a wall between the two of them. Smoke began to filter through the window.

  Jinji choked as the char grew.

  Rhen had to act now.

  The crew would notice any minute, would see the black billowing into the sky.

  He looked at her, green eyes prickling something in her soul. The muscles in his neck were coiled tight, pulling away from the fire as the rest of his body sunk closer.

  And then he stopped fighting.

  His hands sunk into the depths of the flames and with a deep sigh of pleasure, the fire started melting into his skin.

  A different person might have screamed, backed away, run in fear.

  But Jinji smiled. Her heart sang. And something so deep inside of her that she didn’t even know was there thrummed with the rightness of that moment.

  Then the fire vanished, leaving a black stain on the wood at their feet.

  "Rhen," Jinji said, but he was already gone, running from the room as fast as his feet could take him.

  14

  RHEN

  ~ DUELING SEA ~

  Rhen was sulking. He knew it. But he just couldn't stop.

  More than a full day had passed since the fire, and his mind was still consumed with what had happened. He had never shown anyone his gift—not even his own family. His mother, Rhen knew, suspected something. But she never pressed, never asked, and in truth, avoided learning more.

  But Jin—the boy was different.

  Rhen just couldn't get that look out of his mind, that look on Jin's face that was positive Rhen would somehow be able to stop the fire he had created. It was so confident, so demanding—and more than anything, so unafraid.

  And Rhen, instead of facing it like a man, had run away like a little girl—a princess not even in corset strings. Now too much time had passed, he didn’t know what to say or how to start the conversation.

  Rhen shook his head and stared out at the horizon, letting the wind whip his hair.

  The men on deck were avoiding him, not even looking at him. If they did happen to meet his eyes, they immediately bowed their heads out of respect. Even the captain was treading lightly, speaking in hushed tones to his men and only talking to Rhen with polite pleasantries.

  This was how a prince was supposed to be treated, he tried to remind himself, with respect—especially on board a ship that was built for less than lawful activities. He was not surprised at how polite and disingenuous everyone was acting.

  But it hurt, nonetheless. Because all it did was remind Rhen how different things had been with Captain Pygott, a man who had felt more like a father to him than the king at times. More caring certainly. And his men had understood that all Rhen wanted was to feel included.

  On the Old Maid, Rhen was nothing more than an extra set of hands. On the Skipping Stone, he was a burden.

  Over his shoulder, Captain Jelaric stood relaxed behind the wheel, laughing with his first mate.

  Things were better this way, but that didn't mean Rhen had to like it.

  Hence, the sulking.

  Okay, fine, the sulking might have had a little something to do with Jin, too. Rhen missed the boy. Despite the secrets he knew Jin was keeping, they had become true friends. They trusted each other. And more than anything, they understood each other. Unlike Cal, who seemed to battle Rhen at every turn, Jin got him. It was easier to talk to him.

  Well, usually.

  "Land ho!"

  Rhen lifted his head, looking up from his twiddling thumbs to focus on the horizon. A flat stretch of brown and green land was sandwiched between two limitless blues.

  Whylkin.

  Home.

  Warmth flooded his chest. He was almost back in Rayfort. Almost back to Ember. Almost back to his brothers.

  He searched for the seam, the break in the shoreline. A little to the left, he saw it. The land faded away and for a brief instant, sky and sea were connected once more.

  The Straits.

  They were a place of myth, of legend.

  They were something Jin should see.

  Finally, Rhen had the conversation starter he was looking for.

  Before he could change his mind, Rhen spun and raced for the steps. He paused for just a moment outside the door, taking one deep breath, and then plunged in headfirst.

  Jin sat with his arms crossed, staring through the circular window on the far side of the room. He didn’t hear Rhen enter, too lost in his thoughts. His shoulders were hunched over, even his eyebrows looked heavy.

  Rhen cleared his throat.

  Jin sprung to life, turning in fright but relaxing the instant his eyes fell on Rhen. Half a second later, the boy's lids widened. His body tensed. And before Rhen could even open his mouth to speak, Jin was out of the chair.

  "I must speak to you. Please don't leave."

  Rhen stepped farther into the room, closing the door behind him. "I came to talk too." He pulled the large wooden chair from behind the captain's desk, dragging it behind him until it rested across from Jin. He didn’t realize he was sweating until a cool breeze fluttered against his warm cheeks, prickling his skin.

  "I'm sorry," Rhen said, still not looking at Jin, instead focusing on the white puff of a cloud outside.

  "Please, I must tell you something," the boy said, so softly that Rhen almost couldn't hear. There was a vulnerability in that tone, something he had never heard from Jin before. Not in that way. He had heard the boy talk with sadness, with longing, but never with such openness.

  That was enough to make Rhen meet his muddy eyes, tight with worry.

  "You were right, I have been hiding something from you," Jin said. Rhen leaned forward, placing his weight on his forearms, invested in what would come next. Jin did the opposite—he pulled his knees into his chest, curling into a tight little ball.

  "I knew." The boy dipped his head into his knees, breathing deeply before looking up once more. "I dropped that lamp because I knew you would do something. I didn’t know what, but I knew the fire wouldn't hurt you."

  This was it. What Rhen had been waiting for—Jin's secret. He licked his lips with anticipation. "How?"

  "I could see it," Jin said, hesitantly releasing one word at a time.

  Rhen tilted his head, confused. "See it?"

  The boy nodded. "I can see them—the elemental spirits—earth, air, water, and fire. They're in everything, everywhere. And the fire spirits cling to you, they latch onto your skin, they fuse to you. I had never seen anything like it before I met you. So I knew, I knew the fire wouldn't, couldn't hurt you. Because you are fire, Rhen."

  I am fire, Rhen thought as lightness sparked in his chest. He was fire. He had never thought of it that way, but something about the wording was perfect. Was right.

  "And is that all? You just see them?"

  Jin hugged his legs tighter, biting his lip, nostrils flaring as he looked at the ground.

  Rhen held his breath.

  There was more.

  Everything in Jin's body languag
e told him the boy was hiding something.

  Suddenly, Jin looked up, a grin slowly spreading across his face, as though he had just discovered something, just realized something. His eyes glowed gold with excitement.

  They looked almost familiar…

  "That's not it," Jin said, sitting tall. "I can't control it, but sometimes, the spirits help me, like they're guiding me. I felt it the day we met, after you saved me. I felt the trees slide out of my way as I ran to save you. I felt it during the attack. The winds blew harder against our enemies, sending their weapons off track. And I felt it a few days ago when I went to the palace—as though the spirits led me to the princess and to you."

  Rhen didn’t know what to say, how to respond. He was too shocked. The spirits didn’t choose people, did they? Rhen had certainly never felt chosen.

  In his silence, Jin shrunk a little. His excitement wilted.

  "I would have told you," Jin said meekly, "but I didn't think you would believe me. And that's why I threw the light. I wanted to make sure I wasn't crazy—that the fire did speak to you."

  "It does," Rhen said. Jin perked up. "For as long as I can remember, fire has called to me, cajoled me. But that's all. I can't create it. I can't move it. All I can do is reach into the flames and pull them under my skin."

  "That's enough." Jin smiled. It was contagious.

  "Enough for what?"

  "Enough for us to believe each other."

  "What else do you need me to believe?"

  "The shadow," Jin said, low and ominous. Before Rhen could ask, words spilled from the boy's mouth, confessing the truth about what had happened to his people.

  A massacre.

  Total destruction by one of their own.

  It was never the Ourthuri, but Rhen decided that didn’t matter, not now, not when Jin was reliving the most devastating memory of his entire life. It changed nothing. King Razzaq would still need to be dealt with. And Jin would still need a friend and caretaker.

  But this shadow was something unheard of. Bodily possession? Mind control? The longer Jin spoke, the more Rhen wanted to believe him. His words dripped with agony, with truthfulness. He said he saw a bleak emptiness in place of eyes, darkness in place of a soul.