by JC Kang
Why indeed. The truth would make her look even more stupid than she felt. She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter. Tell me, what happened?”
He sighed. “Lord Tong knew our plan. He separated us from the rest of the procession, and then ambushed us in the gatehouse.”
“And Hardeep?”
Chen Xin cocked his head. “The foreign prince?”
She nodded. “Wasn’t he my decoy?”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was…it was…Deputy Yan’s daughter.”
Now it was her turn to stare at him incredulously. “That strange minister?”
Chen Xin nodded. “She helped us track you down the night you went missing.”
A reminder of yet another stupid choice. She swept her gaze over the guards. “And Kai-Long— I mean, Lord Peng?”
They exchanged glances and shrugged.
Ma Jun said, “We were fighting with our knives, in the dark. It was almost as if our opponents could see, even when we couldn’t. When they subdued us and opened the doors, Lord Peng, his aide, and—”
The door creaked open again.
Two enemy soldiers thrust a man dressed in the colors of Kai-Long’s Nanling Province in. He stumbled face-first into the ground. The imperial guards flipped him over.
“The aide.” Xu Zhan pointed to the markings on the man’s collar and then looked up at her.
Kaiya nudged the guards to the side and studied the unmoving man’s face. Bronze, not honey-toned like the Hua; a high-bridged nose.
No, it couldn’t be.
Heavens…Prince Hardeep. She patted her hands over him, checking for injuries. He had no visible wounds, but he didn’t look to be breathing. She leaned over and pressed her ear to his heart.
Nothing. Her own heart might have stopped. No, they wouldn’t have brought him here if he were dead. She closed her eyes.
Something pulsated. Slow, resolute, like waves pounding against a sea wall.
She let out a long sigh and looked up at her men. “How did you not recognize him as the Ankiran Prince?”
The guards exchanged shrugs. Li Wei said, “He wore a helmet the whole time, and never left Lord Peng’s side.”
And now, not even his Paladin skills could save him from the trap. This was her fault, too. Doubting her progress in musical magic, Hardeep had likely made a deal with Father. Join in the attack on Wailian Castle in return for Hua helping to repel the Madurans. Despondent, she hummed again, imitating the lute song he’d taught her.
He blinked several times and focused on her. “Princess Kaiya! What are you doing here?”
Heat flushed in her cheeks. Looking around, hoping no one spoke Ayuri, she said, “I had hoped to use the lessons you taught me. I wanted to sing Lord Tong into submission. I don’t think he’ll see me. I’m so sorry.”
His hair swept through the dirt as he shook his head. “There is nothing to apologize for. When Lord Peng told me of his plan, I volunteered to help, to vanquish Lord Tong so that you would not have to marry him. I came for you.”
She’d been wrong. He hadn’t made a deal. Tears threatened to blur her vision. Oh, to be able to thank him with the only thing she could give. Cradling his head, she leaned in, eyes closed, lips parted. Who cared if her men saw? Her first kiss, maybe her only kiss, would belong to him. None of the guards moved to intervene.
The door groaned open again. His head snapped in the direction of the sound, just before their lips met.
No! Kaiya looked up to see who’d interrupted them now.
Eight soldiers, including the leader who’d captured them, stood by the doors.
“Princess Kaiya,” the leader said. “Lord Tong will see you now.”
One of the soldiers stepped in and seized her arm.
The imperial guards leaped to their feet, ready to intervene, even without weapons. Throwing their lives away, for her. The boys, too, all pushed forward.
Kaiya raised a hand. “Stand down. I will meet with Lord Tong.”
Her guards hesitated, yet their every muscle twitched.
Hardeep staggered up. He stomped a foot on the ground. “Stop.” His voice echoed in the cavern, the vibration shaking in Kaiya’s core.
Around her, everyone froze in place.
He looked from guard to guard, then to the boys. “There is no need for anyone to die. Trust your princess.”
He had spoken in Ayuri, but the imperial guards and the boys all shrank back. The tension in their postures melted.
Kaiya exchanged a smile with Prince Hardeep. “Thank you. I will end this war now.” She walked out of the prison surrounded by traitors. If only she felt as confident as she let on.
They marched her out of the tunnels, and she gulped the fresh air. No matter what happened, at least it would happen above ground. Through the yard, they headed to the five-story main keep. After passing through yet another gatehouse, they arrived in the inner bailey. Servants opened the double doors.
The nightingale floorboards chirped under her tattered slippers. The sound was meant to deter spies, but right now gave her comfort. It was also a rhythm that she might be able to borrow. Another set of double doors slid open, revealing an audience chamber.
Two men guided her into the room, where she was greeted by the scrutiny of several important-looking warriors. At their head sat a middle-aged man with a round face and flat nose. A flabby paunch poked out from under his green robes. Failing to sing him into surrender would mean enduring him, acting out the pictures of the pillow book. Her shudder was interrupted when he reached down and placed a musical instrument on his lap.
The Dragon Scale Lute.
How did he come by it? Hardeep had hidden it in the capital…
A grin formed on his lips. When he spoke, it sounded like rocks rattling in a sack. “Do you like it?”
Her eyes must have betrayed her.
“I’ve known about the fabled Dragon Scale Lute for a long time, and you guided my agents right to it.” He gestured toward a cushion in front of him. “Please, Dian-xia, sit.”
Brushing her shredded inner dress to her shins—well, the hem didn’t reach that far anymore—she knelt. “Lord Tong—”
“Master. You may call me Master.”
His men chuckled. Heat flared in her cheeks. Not like they were even married yet. She opened her mouth to protest.
“We will be wed at midday, before your brother’s wedding. I will marry into the Wang family and invest my ancestral tablet into your family temple.”
In less than two hours. Why so urgent? And why would a powerful lord wish to forsake his ancestors and take on his wife’s name? She raised an eyebrow.
“You are wondering about the immediacy, wondering why. Before your brother speaks his vows before Heaven, my allies will slaughter him, the Crown Prince, the Tianzi, your paternal uncle and his sons. The old Lord Peng and his heir are dead, and the current Lord Peng is in my custody. All heirs to the Jade Throne will be dead, leaving only you, a girl, with imperial blood.”
Kaiya’s head spun. How could this even be possible?
He grinned “You will obey me. Otherwise, your men will die. The imperial expeditionary army is trapped and we will crush them.”
Her blood ran cold. Not because of his threat, but because his finger rested on one of the lute strings.
Her shoulders froze; her heart hurt so badly it must have stopped. If he strummed…
He did. The finger flicked across the string.
The sound came out flat, lifeless, even duller than a regular musical instrument. How could that be? When she’d played, its song had radiated out in eerie desolation and sent warriors into a panic. Now, it merely vibrated, perhaps only loud enough for her keen ears to pick up. Maybe its magic had been depleted.
“I fail to see what is so special about this.” He grinned so the edge of his lips nearly touched the flabby crinkles in the corner of his eyes.
Straightening her spine, tilting her chin, she locked gazes with him. The lu
te string still buzzed, lending her strength she didn’t have on her own. Like the interplay of her music teachers’ duet, she’d merge the lute’s frequency with Lord Tong’s heartbeat.
Rooted to the ground, your spine aligned, let your heart impel your voice. Listening for Lord Tong’s pulse, she rose and gripped her feet to the floor. Where was his pulse? In this room, with poor acoustics, it hid among the other sounds. Still, she had to try, had to guess. She hummed to the frequency of the lute string.
His fingers quivered. His men rocked on their feet. It was working! The rebellion, put down by a girl!
Her vitality guttered. Her already depleted spirit wavered, unable to sustain the hum. It began to crack.
Then her energy failed. Her knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor.
Lord Tong straightened. He lifted his chin to one of the soldiers. “Start the attack. Crush the imperials.” He then turned to her. “Let me show you where you will be spending most of our married life.”
CHAPTER 37
Explosive
While an attacking army had little chance of scaling the ravine walls to the castle walls, a single Moquan could do so with ease. At least, that’s what Tian had thought at first. Exhausted from a whole night of riding, swimming, climbing, and jogging, he found the task more daunting once he started.
He’d chosen a sparsely patrolled west side of the castle, now shadowed in the early morning. Still, if anyone actually spotted him on the descent, he’d make for any easy target. Hand under hand, foot after foot, his fingers and toes ached. He glanced back at the castle several times, freezing at any flash of color on the battlements.
At the bottom, sixty-two chi below, he rested next to the churning rapids of a hundred-some-chi river. Boulders stuck out in places, but they lay too far apart to jump. Dark as twilight at the ravine’s bottom, he had no sense of the depth while slogging across. Halfway through, the frigid waters only came to his waist.
Then his foot slipped on a slime-covered stone and he went under. The swirling current swept him at least a dozen chi before he clung on to a shrub growing between some rocks.
Gasping for air, freezing from the chill waters, he floundered across and heaved himself onto a cold boulder. Once he caught his breath, he stripped off his wet clothes and moved around to generate warmth. If an enemy arrow or freefall didn’t claim him, hypothermia might. As he waited to regain a semblance of energy, he looked up at the daunting task ahead. The castle side of the ravine rose higher than the other, and then there was the climb up the walls to the battlements.
He shook his arms and legs to limber them up before starting the treacherous climb. His muscles screamed for every foothold and handgrip. His body seemed to weigh more than usual, demanding more of his knees, shoulders, and elbows as he struggled to find purchase on the ravine wall.
It was seventy-two chi to the top of the cliff, another twenty to the top of the castle’s outer walls. With no signs of patrols, he slunk over the side and pressed up against the inside parapet. Supposedly, the half-sized Madaeri in the Eldaeri northeast thought of his last twelve grueling hours as fun. If he ever met one, he’d tell them just how insane they were.
Tian turned around and peeked over the parapet. From this vantage point, it appeared as if the entire complex was divided into three walled-off sections, with watchtowers at the intersections of the walls. The sole entrance stood at the center of the south wall, with a gatehouse leading into an outer bailey. In times of peace, the soldiers might drill there. Today, however, it was a deathtrap. The imperial army, or at least those who survived the charge across the bridge, would take fire from all sides before having to file through the second gatehouse.
In the northeast corner, protected in the inner bailey, stood the main keep. Green-tiled roofs demarked its five levels. Jie’s palanquin had entered an hour and a half earlier, so by now, she had either neutralized Lord Tong or been captured. Or killed. His gut twisted. No, Jie didn’t die easily.
Just below him was the main ward, stretching the length and breadth of the outer walls. Twenty-seven wooden buildings of varying sizes would provide cover while he searched for Jie. The banging of metal from one of the twelve stone structures suggested at least one smithy. Despite being six and a half times as large as the rest of the castle, this section was nearly abandoned at the moment.
He was about to climb down, when a squad of men in lamellar armor ran across the yard to meet another now coming out of a nearby wooden building. Tian ducked down below the parapet and listened.
“The girl who escaped is still unaccounted for,” one solider said.
Jie, no doubt. If anyone could escape an ambush—
“Find her! She can’t be more than ten,” said another.
Too young to be Jie. The handmaiden, then. Which meant she was a Black Lotus member. Likely an initiate and not a full adept. If she were too young and inexperienced, she would be frightened and forget her training. But since they hadn’t found her yet, she had probably found a way to blend in.
A good idea for himself, and the easiest way to hide in plain sight. And to keep warm. When the voices faded and the footsteps trailed away, he shimmied down the wall, jumping the last ten chi to save time. Landing lightly on his feet, he dashed to the closest building. He peered into an open window.
Sixteen cots lined both the east and west walls. At the fifth one from the right, a young man struggled with his lamellar tunic. A broadsword lay on his bedding. Tian leaped through the window, rolled across the floor, and landed on his feet just behind the hapless man. All without a sound. A very easy kill, which would save time looking for armor.
Hold the dragonfly with care. Princess Kaiya’s voice prodded him from where she stood in Sun-Moon Castle, seventy-two li away and four thousand, twenty-three days in the past. Instead of breaking the soldier’s neck, Tian stepped through the young man’s knee and wrapped an arm around his throat.
The soldier struggled, hands flailing, but then fell limp. In linking motions, Tian shimmied the tunic off the man and lowered him onto the bed. He then shrugged the armor on, tightened the buckles, and retrieved a T-slot helmet and the broadsword. Not his preferred weapon, but it would have to do.
Now to find the Moquan girl. If she’d tried to infiltrate the castle, she would probably take the guise of a servant. Right now, those girls would be in the kitchens rolling rice balls or cutting strips for bandages. Leaving the barracks, he headed to the closest stone building.
Sure enough, inside, several women and girls gathered around a table, laughing and chatting as they pressed balls of rice in their hands. None of them seemed familiar. He made his way toward the castle, poking his head into kitchens and barracks.
Halfway to the inner bailey, he spotted a girl kneeling by a stone-lined circle, working a winch. A well, in all likelihood, though it must have gone at least seventy-two chi to reach the aquifers. Tian marched at an angle to get a look at her face. She kept her head down, and even turned in such a way that revealed less of her face as he passed. She was either shy, or…
Tian came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. He’d started to tap a code when she seized his arm and twisted. He reeled toward the opening and would have careened down the well had he not had the sense to hook the edge with a foot and catch the winch with his free hand.
Still, she had superior leverage. She’d be able to send him over with a simple sweep of her leg.
“Black Water,” he said. Hopefully, even in the heat of the moment, she’d recognize one of the many code words that allowed Black Lotus members to identify each other in disguise.
Her pressure relented. “Who are you?”
“Zheng Tian.”
“Oh!” Eyes wide like cups, she helped him up.
Armor jangled from behind them, enough sound for two men. “What is going on there?” a gruff male voice called.
Tian spun and pressed a fist into his hand. “I tripped. Thank the Heavens. She saved me.”
/> The taller of the two soldiers waved. “Well, get your water and hurry to your post. Lord Tong will order the attack soon.”
Soon. Tian’s guts knotted as he watched the two soldiers march toward the outer bailey. He turned to the cute girl. She looked familiar. Right, she’d come to the temple five years earlier… Feng Mi was her name, and he’d taught her the Ghost Echo technique. “What happened?”
“Lord Tong knew we were coming. Clan traitors helped ambush us in the first gatehouse, but I escaped.”
“I don’t think they’re traitors. No, they’re a new clan. Now what about Jie?”
Feng Mi shook her head. “They attacked her first, and she never even moved. From where I hid, I saw them take her, unconscious, into the main keep.”
From where he’d watched on the bluff, he knew there had been at least seven more soldiers, plus the eight porters with Jie. “What about the others?”
“The imperial guards couldn’t fight in the dark. Lord Peng surrendered and was escorted to the inner bailey. His aide escaped. He told me to find the princess, but I haven’t seen him since.”
“Which way…wait, the princess?”
Feng Mi shrugged. “I suppose he meant Jie. As for the guards, I overheard Lord Tong’s men saying they were taken into the caves below.”
Tian tapped his chin. “Where is the entrance to the caves?”
She pointed to the sluice gutters on the roofs. “I think they feed into the underground cisterns, and there might be an access point from this well.” She leaned over and called into the hole.
Indeed, the echo sounded like there might be a side passage at the bottom. Still, “They took the guards in through the well?”
She shook her head. “There’s an entrance near the second gatehouse, but it is guarded.”
“The prisoners need water, too.” He grinned.
“They were looking for me.” Her shoulders slumped.
He patted her on the back. “You escaped. You gathered information. Now there are two of us. Come, let’s find the—”
A horn sounded in a sequence of blares, two long, one short.