by JC Kang
Prince Aelward produced a scroll with wavy Ayuri script. The official skimmed over it before regarding the group. “Welcome, Prince Aelward of Tarkoth. You, the elf lady, and your crew may come ashore, but only within six blocks of the harbor.” He then narrowed his eyes at the Hua. “These people do not look like Tarkothi crew. Unless you can produce proper identification and permissions, I am afraid they will have to stay on your ship, at least until we can arrange escort tomorrow morning.”
Kaiya searched the harbor for the Golden Phoenix. The faster vessel should’ve arrived earlier, and certainly they would’ve made arrangements for her. It was nowhere to be found.
Uncompromising bureaucrats! There had to be some way to persuade him, even it meant identifying herself. She lowered her hood. “I am Kaiya Wang, daughter of the Emperor of Cathay. I have business at the Temple of the Moon.”
Behind her, the imperial guards and Jie shuffled on their feet. She wasn’t supposed to reveal their identities, let alone break from their rigid itinerary.
The official paused to gape at her. “We were not informed of your visit, and without any kind of identification, I am afraid I cannot let you off this wharf.”
He began to motion for several local soldiers to come over and help enforce his judgment, when an adorable young boy of about ten years scampered up. He wore a white kurta with a light-yellow embroidered collar. Kaiya searched her memory, and recalled that his clothes marked him as a trainee of the Ayuri Paladin order.
The boy bobbed his head. “The Oracle wants the Cathayi woman with the flute to visit the temple tomorrow at dawn. The Paladins will allow her to stay in one of the guest houses.”
Kaiya looked back at her people, who all gawked at the boy. She turned back to the beaming child and withdrew her flute. “How did he know I was coming?”
The official harrumphed. “He is the Oracle, after all. It is his business to know. Very well, the lady may come ashore. Did the Oracle say anything about her friends?”
The boy stared at Kaiya with wide eyes and shook his head. “He only mentioned the one with the flute.”
The official peered at them with a smug grin. “I am very sorry, but only the princess may enter the city.”
“That is not acceptable,” Chen Xin said in Arkothi. “The princess must be protected at all times.”
The official laughed. “This is the spiritual home of the Ayuri Paladins, the greatest warriors on Tivaralan. As their guest, she is safer here than anywhere in the world.”
Kaiya summoned her most charming voice. “At least allow me to bring my handmaiden.”
The official looked down at her feet. “I am sorry, but we must follow protocol.”
Kaiya sang her request. “Let her come.” Three syllables, yet it didn’t drain her energy at all. The boy’s eyes widened.
The official pressed his hands together and bowed his head. “Very well.”
“I protest, Dian-xia,” Chen Xin said in the Hua language. He dropped to one knee. “It is our duty to protect you, always. Please stay on the Invincible one more night.”
“I will not stay on the ship tonight. I will be safe with Jie and an island full of Paladins.” Kaiya lifted her chin and scowled.
Chen Xin immediately stood up, took two steps back and bowed down again. Turning to the boy, she smiled graciously and said in Ayuri, “Please, little friend, take us to our quarters.”
Since the night Lord Xu popped into the princess’ bedchambers, Jie had felt the power of the princess’ voice dissipate around her with no effect. Yet here, on this island which pulsated at a low hum, the princess’ command swept over her like a tidal wave. She stood mesmerized, just like all of the men, and trailed after the princess like an automaton. It took a few minutes of walking in a daze before she regained her focus.
The boy skipped down the boulevard, between warehouses, trading offices, inns, and shops. He, too, seemed to recover his wits and spoke with puppy-like enthusiasm. “This part of the ruins was rebuilt. Ayudra is now a transit point for people and cargo. Lots of merchants, sailors, and passengers. But not everyone is allowed here. And there is a nighttime curfew.”
Jie suppressed a cough. For a purportedly safe place guarded by the supposedly most powerful warriors in the land, there sure were a lot of rules.
The crowds thinned and they came to a short stone wall crossing the road. It had an open gate large enough to allow a cart through. On the left stood a handsome young man, on the right an attractive young woman. Both wore the same white kurtas as the boy, though their high collars were embroidered in gold. Postures relaxed, their hands rested on the guardless hilts of curved naga swords hanging at their sides.
Paladins. Jie eyed them. Had she not witnessed their fighting skills two years ago in Tokahia, she wouldn’t have believed their martial prowess. Then again, the Golden Scorpions she’d fought hadn’t impressed, and they supposedly underwent the same training as Paladins.
The boy pressed his hands together and bowed his head. “This is the Cathayi lady who is allowed to enter.”
The two saluted her with folded palms and stepped to the side.
The princess nodded in response. Jie followed her and the boy past the checkpoint.
“Welcome to the sacred inner city. The spiritual home of the Order of the Ayuri Paladins.” The boy waved his hand at the boulevard ahead, which looked just like the harbor side of the city. It continued toward the verdant hill, with two-story, flat-roofed buildings on either side. An occasional dome or spire or minaret topped a few buildings. There were less people here, and all were uniformly dressed in the garb of the Paladin Order.
More evident was the change in sounds. The commotion of commerce gave way to orderly marching footsteps and the rhythmic pounding of metal—all woven into the rustling of the wind in the willowy paperwood trees and the song of the ocean behind them. It should’ve been a cacophony raucous enough to scare off evil spirits, but Jie found it oddly soothing.
The princess wore a serene expression, perhaps for the first time since Zheng Ming’s betrayal. With those sharp ears of hers, she probably noticed the sounds, too.
“You feel it, don’t you?” said a male voice from behind them.
Jie’s stomach lurched into her chest. Someone had snuck up without her hearing. She whirled around, her hand instinctively reaching into the folds of her cloak for a biao throwing star. Before she could get her fingers around it, a hand pressed firmly on her elbow, pinning it down. Try as she might, she couldn’t free her arm.
“Please, do not be alarmed.” The older man’s grandfatherly voice rippled through her, calming her nerves and relaxing her muscles.
He had long, graying hair tied into a pony tail, and wore a white kurta with a gold-embroidered collar. Unlike the sentries at the wall, his shirt also had gold-embroidered cuffs.
The boy bowed low, hands pressed together. With even the princess bowing, Jie followed suit.
“Master Sabal,” the boy said. “I am taking the Cathayi lady to the guest house, as instructed by the Oracle.”
The Paladin master waved the boy off. “Run along, young Gayan, back to your studies with the Oracle. I will take them from here.”
Gayan pouted, but then pressed his hands together and skipped off down the boulevard toward the hill.
“You.” Master Sabal’s focus locked on Jie. “Have you come back for more training?”
More training? Jie’s brows scrunched up. “I’ve never been here before.”
“You were here two years ago, spying on our training.” The Paladin master’s lips pursed.
If only. Jie cast a sidelong glance at the princess, and then shook her head. “No, I’ve never set foot in Ayudra before.” She’d only seen it from a ship on the way to her mission in the North.
“I see.” Master Sabal scratched his chin. “Perhaps my old eyes failed me. Still, there aren’t many half-elves in this world. Maybe you all look alike.”
The nerve! Jie’s cheeks must have flus
hed an interesting shade of red.
Turning from her, the master examined the princess, so different from the way any other man looked at her. “Young lady, for years I have been charged with identifying children who can feel what you feel right now: the vibrations of the world itself. It is a shame that our mandate only extends to the borders of Ayuri lands, for we will miss rare gems like you. Perhaps one of your parents is Ayuri?”
The princess shook her head.
“Please pull down your hood.”
To Jie’s shocked disapproval, the princess did as requested.
The old Paladin sucked in his breath. “By the Sun and Moons, I have never seen such a perfect face. Perhaps it is a good thing we never found you. We are still dealing with the repercussions of a beauty who threw an entire class of Paladin students into chaos.”
Enough of the princess’ beauty, already. It wasn’t like Tian hadn’t raved about it all the time, even before she was actually pretty. Jie tried not to roll her eyes. “How did you know what my hand was doing?”
“We learn to surrender our conscious thought and let the vibrations of the world guide our actions and amplify our own abilities beyond normal physical limitations. My hand moved to stop you from reaching your weapon, even before I consciously recognized the threat.” The man smiled disarmingly.
She would have to try again, though maybe not on a master the next time.
“In any case,” he continued, “follow me to your lodgings. You will find your answers…or perhaps just more questions…when you visit the Oracle yourself.”
He brought them a little further down the boulevard, where they came to one of the ubiquitous two-story mud-brick buildings. Unlike the other structures, the guest house had a metallic domed roof that reflected the swirling colors of the Iridescent Moon, now waxing to its half phase. The sun hung low in the sky, gilding the Ayudra hilltop in gold.
The princess’ stomach rumbles joined the other harmonized sounds. Her cheeks flushed red in the late afternoon sun.
“There is food, and a hot bath.” Master Sabal opened the door and gestured for them to enter. “Rest well tonight. If you are so inclined, come to the temple before dawn tomorrow to join our morning meditation.” With a bow, he bid them farewell.
Jie followed the princess into the two-story foyer, overlooked by a second floor balcony wrapping around three sides. Her feet sank into the wool Ayuri carpet, intricately woven in patterns of red, cream, and gold. She walked under a glass chandelier of light baubles that hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room.
Twirling in a circle, she took in the cloying scent of incense. The bright light brought out the colors in two large paintings of pre-Hellstorm Ayudra, which hung on either side of an arched opening.
An older boy, wearing a simple cotton kurta, emerged from the opposite archway, between a pair of golden banners with a twenty-one-pointed black sun. He bounded up the flight of steps at the far end of the foyer and beckoned them. “Follow me, mistresses.”
When they reached the landing, he motioned to a door with an open hand. “That will be your room for the night. Please let me know if you need anything. We are serving dinner right now on the first-floor room to the left. There is a communal bath off of the room to the right.”
Jie looked at the princess. An internal struggled played in her expression. In all likelihood, the hot bath after a long journey would win out over the aroma of roasted chicken wafting out of the dining room.
The princess’ eyes drifted to the bathing area, then back to Jie.
If she thought Jie would help her bathe like a real handmaiden, she was in for a surprise.
CHAPTER 23:
What Happens in the Floating World
Minister Hong Jianbin’s hands sweated, though not from the warm moisture billowing off the baths and percolating through the halls. The bathhouse was one of many in the Floating World, nestled among gambling dens, theatres, brothels, and teahouses. The district was secret in theory only, providing a haven for those who might seek temporary escape from the rigors of daily life.
Floating and ephemeral, like a waking dream. Commoner and noble alike visited, anonymously brushing shoulders on their way to enjoy pleasures for every budget. While the Tianzi’s law ostensibly extended into the Floating World, it was more governed by convention and custom. As long as nothing spilled into the real world, and the businesses continued paying taxes, the authorities left well enough alone. What happened in the Floating World, stayed in the Floating World.
Or so the maxim said.
The effects of what would happen here tonight would ripple throughout Hua and usher in a new era of greatness. At least, that’s what Hong told himself. Again.
His gaze returned to the dressing room’s full-length mirror. His old skin glowed pink from a young woman’s vigorous scrubbing. Yet no matter how much dirt and dead skin came off, the blackness of his soul reflected in that mirror. Were power and prestige worth betraying a friend? A friend who had helped him rise through the ranks?
Yes.
It would have never come to this, had the opportunity not fallen into his hands. The impossible aligning of so many circumstances could not have happened unless Heaven willed it.
Years ago, when he was still a minor palace official, he had recommended a new maid for Chief Minister Tan as a favor to an old hometown acquaintance. Little did he know how much the grateful girl would overhear: a plot to start war, in order to rectify the Chief Minister’s past mistakes. With the maid as his eyes and ears in the Tan household, Hong knew almost everything.
At the same time, his father’s former business connection told him of an exotic weed surreptitiously imported from Ayuri lands, delivered in small amounts to Lord Peng Kai-Long’s Huajing estate.
Through a little investigating, Hong found out that the weed rendered a man’s seed sterile. He would have exposed Lord Peng’s treason right then and reaped a small reward, had he not met Leina. She inadvertently convinced him to keep the knowledge for himself and wait for a more opportune time to reveal it.
Up to now, he had just ridden on the wave of plots and plans, positioning himself to benefit when it crashed. He would have waited even longer, had the bumbling Young Lord Zheng not begun closing in on Tan’s treachery.
Hong took in a deep whiff of the flowery air, which did little to cover the stink of betrayal. Peng and Tan were neck deep in seditious moves, with plenty of evidence waiting to incriminate them. Meanwhile, Hong’s only treason was testing an herb interaction on the Tianzi’s brother and nephews two years ago. Nothing linked him to those deaths.
Hong draped a thin robe over his frail body and approached the sliding doors. A scantily clad young woman opened them for him. He banished thoughts of his own treachery and walked across the wooden floors. The hall was empty. In an effort to protect the anonymity of her patrons, the proprietress always ensured that only one customer was in a passage at any given time.
Another door opened ahead of him and he turned and entered a private bath room. Chief Minister Tan was already soaking up to his chest in an enormous wooden tub, two beautiful young women sitting naked on either side of him. The water level tantalizingly hinted at the cleft between their breasts.
“Little Hong,” the Chief Minister said, “thank you for inviting me.”
“It is always my pleasure, Elder Brother.” Hong addressed the Chief Minister as he always had in the many years they had known each other. He removed his own robe and settled into the hot water. One of the women waded across the tub, keeping her soft curves provocatively submerged, and sidled up next to him.
Tan draped an arm over the girl beside him. “It has been years since we enjoyed a bath together with such lovely ladies. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I want in.” Hong eschewed all secrecy—they could discuss classified affairs of state here, since the ladies of the bathhouse were sworn to confidentiality. What happened in the Floating World, stayed in the Floating World.
Hong leaned forward, out of the arms of the beauty, and kept all hint of accusation out of his voice. “I know Xie Shimin visited you in secret before his unlikely assassination attempt.”
“Yes, he did,” Tan answered casually, without even a trace of worry or concern. “I suppose my maid told you? What of it?”
So he knew about the maid. “Just that I know. And I support you in your work to punish Madura. I was a part of that trade mission thirty-two years ago, too, and bear the same responsibility for Ankira’s occupation. I want to help you.”
“You already have.” Tan disentangled his arm from the girl and leaned forward, hands steepled to his chin. “Did you ever wonder why so many of the attacks on the Tai-Ming occurred after their meetings with you?”
Hong paused, thinking back to each of the attacks.
“It is because you always informed me whom you were meeting with,” Tan continued. “But given the circumstances, it certainly does not look good for you.”
Blood rushed from Hong’s face. Minister Tan had been setting him up to take the blame in the event his plot failed! But why?
Tan grinned. “Do not worry, my old friend. I withheld this piece of information from investigators. I merely wanted to let you know, to ensure your good behavior.”
“Of course.” Relief washed over Hong. “I only share your vision of Hua’s prosperity.”
“Good. Because the prerequisite for being a part of my plan is dedication to our great nation.” Tan shook his head. “I am sad I had to go to such great lengths, but the Tianzi will not change his ways in his old age, at least not without significant provocation.”