The Dragon Songs Saga: The Complete Quartet: Songs of Insurrection, Orchestra of Treacheries, Dances of Deception, and Symphony of Fates

by JC Kang

  Tian tracked it to its source. The main keep. He looked to Feng Mi. “What was that?”

  She frowned. “I haven’t learned their signals yet.”

  A cannon boomed from the front walls. More blasts followed, eight in total. Then musket fire crackled. Muted yells and screams carried from Wailian Town.

  He met her eyes. “Lord Tong has started the attack. We need to hurry, or the entire imperial procession will be destroyed.”

  Together, they jogged toward the outer bailey. At the rear gatehouse, she pointed to another stone-lined hole, this one wide enough for eight men to enter abreast. The two guards with swords and spears stepped aside to allow them to enter. After sixteen steps, the rough-hewn passage descended at a sixteen-and-a-quarter-degree incline, with columns supporting the cave every fifteen chi. The walls rocked with each cannon volley. Hopefully, the tunnels wouldn’t cave in, at least not until they got out.

  A hundred and forty-two paces in, they came to a metal door with a guard outside. He held a spear in one hand, while a broadsword and dagger hung on either side of his waist. In the narrow tunnel, it would be easy to get inside the arc of the spear. Still, there might be an easier way.

  Rehearsing the line in his head, Tian pressed a fist into his palm. “Lord’s orders. We are bringing water to the prisoners now. Before the fighting gets too intense.”

  The guard unlocked the door. It groaned open as he pushed it.

  “Come on. Make sure the prisoners don’t attack.” Tian drew his sword and gestured for the guard to enter with him.

  Inside, several expectant faces looked up, including a familiar imperial guard—Chen Xin, the one who’d played a minor role in Tian’s banishment. Who knew if he’d recognize Tian eight years later?

  No time to consider such a trivial matter. Yanking the enemy soldier’s helmet off, Tian smashed the sword pommel into the back of his head. When he collapsed to the floor, Tian took his own helmet off. “Lord Tong has our troops surrounded. We need to neutralize the cannons. And open the gates.” Not like five guards, one barely-conscious foreigner, eight porters, and twenty-seven boys, all unarmed, stood a chance.

  Chen Xin raised a hand. “Our duty is to the princess.”

  Tian gawked at him. Surely, he knew Jie’d been a decoy.

  “The real princess,” Chen Xin hissed. “She’s here. Not like you care about her.”

  Turtle’s egg! Tian glared at him. Still, Princess Kaiya was here. His childhood friend, the girl who promised to marry him. His shoulders tensed. “You will never make it to the main keep.”

  “At least we can try,” another of the guards said.

  Tian pointed at Feng Mi. “She is the most equipped to try.”

  A particularly testy guard with flat knuckles growled. “Give me your sword.”

  Leave it to an imperial guard to think he was a better swordsman. It wasn’t a fight worth contesting. Tian passed it over and pointed to the soldier he’d knocked out. “There’s another sword, spear and dagger—”

  Two of the guards, one with a triangular head and the other with a scar on his chin, wrestled over the sword. Chen Xin glared at them, then let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to Tian.

  “—plus two guards at the entrance to the tunnel. Feng Mi and I will take care of them and bring their weapons.”

  Chen Xin favored him with a tight expression. “You have three minutes. If we don’t hear from you, we’ll do it our way.”

  Such a desire to get themselves killed. Tian rolled his eyes. Beckoning Feng Mi, he said, “Approach in silence. I’ll take the one on the right, you, the left. You have weapons?”

  She nodded. Given her size, she’d have to use lethal force to neutralize her target. Who knew if her target had a family who would miss him?

  Cannon bursts, musket shots, and repeater clicks volleyed in succession, all growing louder the closer they came to the mouth of the tunnel. Behind the two guards, he motioned for her to stop. Beyond them, soldiers ran into the gatehouse, carrying crossbow bolt bundles and rolling kegs of firepowder. None looked in their direction. Just before the next cannon volley, he jabbed a finger forward. He leaped behind his man, yanked off his helmet, and hook-punched him in the temple. For good measure, he continued with an elbow to the other side of the head. His victim collapsed, just as Feng Mi’s did, blood spurting from his neck.

  Taking ahold of both men’s arms, Tian dragged them back into tunnel. Unsurprisingly, Chen Xin and the imperial guards were approaching the entrance.

  Tian raked a gaze over them. “I told you to wait.”

  “I gave you three minutes.” Chen Xin bent over and retrieved one of the swords.

  Tian ground his teeth. “Most of Lord Tong’s men are on the walls. Repeaters and muskets. Get in close. Their weapons lose their advantage.”

  Flat Knuckles grunted. “We are going to rescue the princess.”

  Tian’s own knuckles must be white. He loosened a fist to point at the outer walls. “Loyal men are dying.”

  “You are right, but our first duty is to the princess.” The youngest-looking guard pressed a fist into his hand.

  Curse their sense of duty. Reversing the roles Tian had planned meant he’d storm the walls and fail; while the imperial guards would attack the main keep, and likely not make it past the gatehouse. There were two wild cards. “Feng Mi, go with the imperial guards. Find Jie— Wait.” The only way he stood a chance of surviving the wall alone was to become a remorseless killer with singular focus and no fear. In short, “The Tiger’s Eye. Use it on me.”

  Eyes shifting from the already-running imperial guards back to him, Feng Mi’s face blanched. “I…I am not good at it.”

  “You have to try.” He stared at her hands.

  With a sigh, her scowl hardened. She arranged her fingers in a web and then twisted them into a loop and hook. “Your mission is to take the wall.”

  Tian waited for a second. The technique’s effect did not wash over him. Still, Feng Mi didn’t know that. He flashed a hand signal, which she’d hopefully mistake for success.

  With a smile, Feng Mi spun and took off after the imperial guards.

  He turned and beckoned the twenty-three able-bodied young imperial soldiers, with two spears and three daggers among them. Wait. “Where is Lord Peng’s aide?”

  One of the boys thumbed back the way they’d come. “He couldn’t move. He’s with our own wounded.”

  Tian scanned the yard, where the imperial guards decimated the enemy soldiers carrying supplies. He pointed. “Scavenge a weapon. Follow me into the gatehouse. Once you are all inside, close the door. Don’t let Lord Tong’s men through. Now go.”

  He raced toward the gatehouse. The armed boys followed close behind. As long as they stayed in the gatehouse, they could cut off one of the supply lines and keep themselves relatively safe.

  At the entrance, three men raced out. Stepping inside the arc of the first’s swing, Tian seized his attacker’s arm and twisted him into the chop of the second. Snatching the first’s sword, he ducked under the hack of the third while slashing through his knee tendons. As he rose, he stabbed into the face of the second. He swept up a second sword and charged into the gatehouse.

  Sunlight from the doors on the second level silhouetted soldiers now coming down stone steps. Tian engaged; bobbing, cutting, and sidestepping as he worked his way up. One, four, six enemies lay dead or incapacitated by the time he reached the second level. He yelled to the boys, “Hold the gatehouse.”

  On the top of the walls, he scanned the outer bailey. At the center, stone-filled glass jars surrounded three kegs, one open, exposing a black powder. A firepowder trap. It would rain glass shards and stones onto an invader as they tried to file through the second gatehouse bottleneck. Somewhere, there was a way to ignite the open barrel.

  He looked up to the outer wall, about three hundred chi long, from where the castle defenders coordinated the deadly barrage on the imperial army. He poked his head back into the
gatehouse, to find four of the boys right there. “Stay here. Don’t come out. You’ll get yourselves killed. And open the inside gate… Wait.” He pulled the closest one out and pointed at the firepowder trap. “Roll the barrels to the inside gate of the first gatehouse. Put those glass jars between the barrels and the gate. Then find a way to light it. From a distance.”

  The boy ogled him. “But…”

  “Just do it. For your comrades stuck outside the castle.” Without waiting for an answer, Tian sprinted around the inner walls to the outer parapet. If he had been tired earlier, he was now functioning on nervous energy alone.

  He emerged at the rear of the lines and attacked with broadswords in either hand. The first nine men with muskets and crossbows never had a chance; they either fell fumbling with their swords, or without knowing what hit them. Others took close shots at him, near enough for him to knock their muskets or crossbows off-line so the projectiles would hit their own men. Still, it was a sea of enemies. His two swords meant nothing, and his second wind began to wane.

  He dared a glance over the outer walls. Imperial soldiers crowded the bridge below, caught between the defenders on the battlements and the ranks of enemies in the town, closing in around them. It was hopeless.

  Then several of the boys joined in, following the path he’d blazed, their own swords and spears flashing. A cannon fired, and it was all he could do to get out of its way as it recoiled back on its two wheels. A musket barrel swept toward his head and he ducked, nearly ramming into the soldier cleaning the cannon muzzle, but coming to a pause with a crossbow in his face. He dropped to the floor just as the string twanged, and hacked at the wielder’s legs. The musketman behind him grunted.

  When he popped back up, they were loading the cannon. The gunner held a torch, ready to light the fuse once his crew of two pushed the artillery into position. Thwarting the cannon team meant protecting a dozen imperial soldiers in the town. Tian slashed at the pair, dropping them. Spinning out of the way of a barrage of bolts, he finished his twist beside the gunner. They stared at each other for a split second before Tian cut through him with both blades.

  The cannon… Tian dropped his left sword and caught the torch as it slipped from the gunner’s hand. He beckoned the boys. “Help me turn it!”

  The gun balanced over the wheels, making it easy to rotate. Two of the boys pushed the barrel while Tian shoved the breech in the opposite direction. It now pointed along the battlements. Enemy soldiers screamed, gesticulated, and gawked.

  “Clear!” Tian swept his sword back and forth, gesturing the boys to the side. He lit the fuse right near the barrel. The muzzle flashed, sending a ball into the crowd. The cannon recoiled, grazing Tian and knocking him down. His head slammed into the parapet. The world spun. A dozen men charged into him—or was it just one?

  An explosion below rocked the front walls, sending his attacker—only one—lurching into him.

  Jie’s ears twitched as the walls of Lord Tong’s playroom shook with each cannon volley. Between the booms and the staccato of musket fire, it sounded like there were eight cannons and over a hundred muskets. More importantly, she was underground, albeit close to the surface.

  There was nothing saving the imperial army from total annihilation, unless she could find a way out. She fiddled with her bindings again. Getting out of the rope would be easy, except—

  “Stay still,” the Bovyan said.

  Except him. He’d clung to the shadows, and besides the rope dart, there was no telling what other weapons and tools he had at his disposal on top of his Moquan skills.

  Maybe the cursed Bovyan race’s lustful streak could be used against him. Conjuring her most alluring pout, she twisted to the source of his voice; or maybe not, if he’d used a Ghost Echo to throw it. With little slack to work with in the rope, she widened her stance, arched her back, and exposed her rear.

  He gulped, revealing his position to be just where she’d thought. If he got close enough—

  A knife rasped out of its scabbard and he stepped into view. “I warned Lord Tong you were too dangerous to leave alive.”

  CHAPTER 38

  Songs of Despair

  Hands still bound above her, and with only her toes on the floor of Lord Tong’s playroom, Jie had only seconds before the Bovyan gutted her.

  Grabbing the rope, she sprung up into an inverted position and pulled herself hand over hand to the rafter. She hung there, upside down like a bat.

  “Fool, you’re still in my reach.” He leaped after her, slashing toward her neck.

  She flipped back down and pulled the rope into the path of his cut. His dagger shredded through the fibers, and she landed in a squat, one hand on the floor.

  His snarl resembled the Black Lotus Temple dogs when they’d cornered a fox by the well. Get in his head and he’d make a mistake. She flashed him her most irrepressible smile and shrugged.

  He growled and stabbed again, but she spun out of the way and snatched up the flaying blade from the table. With back and forth thrusts, she cut though the last of the bindings. Warmth rushed into her hands, sending tingles down her fingers.

  She stuck her tongue out at him. “Can you defeat a naked girl with a shorter weapon?” Probably so, but she was probably twice his age and four times as experienced. “Though maybe your weapon isn’t so long.”

  Dropping into an offensive stance, he twirled the dagger into an underhand grip. One on one, in these circumstances, she didn’t stand a chance in a fair fight.

  Which was why she wouldn’t fight fair. With a Mockingbird’s Deception to imitate Lord Tong, she used a Ghost Echo to throw her voice to the room’s entrance behind her. “Bovyan! Look out behind you!”

  He spun.

  She darted in and slashed the tendons of his dagger hand. His fingers slackened and the weapon slipped from his grasp. She caught it in her other hand. As he gawped at his useless limb, she plunged the dagger into his gut and raked it through his intestines. With the other hand, she drove the flaying blade up under his ribcage.

  Blood spurted from his liver. Gasping, crumpling to the floor, he tried to keep his insides from spilling out. He bowed his head. “It is my honor to be defeated by a better foe.”

  Enemy or not, he didn’t deserve to suffer. Tian had always said as much. Darting in, she slashed his carotids with the flaying blade. Then she spun and ran. Behind her, his body thudded to the floor and his wheezes stopped.

  The corridors appeared otherwise abandoned, though perishable food supplies lay in crates. She listened for the cannons, felt for breezes on her bare skin. The floors felt rough and cold beneath her feet. Then, something piquant caught her nose. Firepowder. Sniffing, she followed the scent through a few twists and turns. At last, she came to a room with dozens and dozens of barrels.

  To think this escapade had started with Tian’s suspicions. Here was the proof. Proof she was about to destroy, so as to turn the tide of what had to be a hopeless battle. Who knew how much damage it could do underground? Maybe Tian. By now, he probably would’ve calculated the volume of the cave and tunnel space, counted the kegs and estimated their combined blast pressure.

  Definitely not her skillset. She cracked a few of them open with punches and kicks. With several back-and-forth rocks, she managed to heave one onto its side. Luckily, it didn’t ignite and blow her to tiny bits. Following the breeze and sniffing for the fresh air, she rolled it down the corridor. The farther away she got from the arsenal and the closer to an exit, the better chance she’d have of surviving her plan.

  Then, the last of the barrel’s firepowder spilled out. Kneeling, she struck her blade against the stone floor in a shower of sparks.

  The cannons boomed and musket fire crackled in the distance as Kaiya pressed her palms to the floor and tried to push herself up. With supreme effort, she brought a hip under herself. Trying to channel magic into her voice had left her limbs languid, her core as flaccid as egg custard, and her head muddled like heavy fog.

 
And she’d failed.

  Now, loyal men died at the castle gates because of her vanity, her belief that she could sing Lord Tong into submission. Instead, he devoured her with his eyes, his pig face contorted into a feral expression reminiscent of a wild boar about to feast on truffles.

  His cushion hissed as he rose from the gaudy chair and set the Dragon Scale Lute onto the seat. He knelt down beside her. “What’s wrong, my slave? No magic on your lips?”

  She gawked at him. How did he know?

  He placed two fingers under her chin and lifted it. “Of course my spy told me about your efforts.”

  Spy…no wonder he knew about the music. About the trap. And the lute.

  “I am just glad you didn’t give yourself to that foreigner. I will be your first. Your only.” He withdrew his hand. “Now, kneel before me. Show me you have at least a remote semblance of grace.”

  No. No matter her shortcomings, she still had her dignity. She glared up at him.

  He clucked his tongue. “My, my, you do have some spirit, after all. I will have to break you of that. Now kneel, and maybe, just maybe if you are fast enough, I’ll spare the foreigner.”

  Kaiya’s chest scrunched. She brought her knees up under her.

  “Avert your gaze. You will not make eye contact with your master.”

  All the better to hide the tear forming in her eye.

  “Now, kowtow before me.”

  She shook her head. An imperial princess could only show such complete submission to the Tianzi himself.

  “Hurry, and I will call off the attack. Think of the lives you will save.”

  What choice was there? He held all the leverage. She pressed her forehead to the floor, completely defeated by this vile traitor. To think he’d use marriage to establish a legitimate claim to the Jade Throne. Tears trickled down her cheeks and plopped onto the floor.

  He snapped his fingers and one of his men shuffled over, then waddled back. Kneeling over, the closeness of his large body muffled the sounds around him. His breath tickled her ear. “I am your master now.” Something cold and smooth wrapped around her neck. It tugged and twisted at her nape.