by JC Kang
He flashed a grin, but it seemed forced. “I’m glad to see you are alive and well, too. My plan can’t fail with the two of us.”
What? Someone deserved a painful reminder—
Tian opened his mouth to continue, but knowing what he’d ask and wanting him to see the answer, Jie cut him off. “Were you hit on your head so hard that you can’t see the holes in that ridiculous plan? I never thought an imperial guard would have more sense than a Moquan.”
Tian shrugged. “It’ll have twice as much a chance of succeeding now that you are here.”
Something was wrong about his demeanor. Her stomach hollowed. This was not how their reunion was supposed to be, even with a princess to rescue.
Ma Jun disentangled himself from Lana’s embrace and pulled Tian aside. He leaned in and whispered, though Jie’s elf ears heard it all.
“Neither Weiyong nor Lana told anyone in Hua the whole story. That is between the two of you. But you can’t let your emotions get in the way of objectivity. It’s one thing to risk your own life, it is something entirely different to risk all ours.”
What was that all about? Jie sucked on her lower lip.
Tian looked up. His distraught, almost guilty expression settled into a Moquan blankness as his eyes met Jie’s. “I think the two of us can do it.”
“We have more assets a few li away, and I have a better plan. Follow me.” She nodded towards Lana. “Or rather, follow her.”
Tian trailed behind Jie in silence for a half-phase, remembering all the things that were left unsaid in the haste of the escape from Iksuvius half a year before. Had their mutual feelings been clarified, perhaps things would have turned out differently. But now, Jie’s magnetism no longer pulled on him. That attraction, no matter how brief, now transformed into guilt.
He started to confess, but other words spilled out instead. “How did you escape Iksuvius?”
Jie glanced over her shoulder, her expression speaking of a silent hurt. “The Teleri destroyed the embassy, killed most of the staff and imperial guard.” She cast Ma Jun a sympathetic eye. “They rounded up all the Hua residents and imprisoned them.”
All those comrades, killed. And Tian had left Jie there.
“Then,” she continued, “the Tianzi sent a dozen ships to blockade the coast. I took the fastest ship back to Hua with word of the princess’ escape into the Wilds. Search parties embarked on futile forays into the plateau, but heavy snow forced the Tianzi to call the search off for the winter.”
Tian nodded. “They would’ve stumbled on Teleri fortresses before they found us.”
Jie shrugged. “They would’ve resumed their search tomorrow, but the embassy doctor and his guide delivered the news of the princess’ capture two days ago. In the meantime, your brother Zheng Ming mobilized three thousand soldiers. They’re heading this way.”
Of course. Dashing Eldest Brother would volunteer to swoop in and save the princess. From the East Gate of Hua, they were two weeks away. Still too far, given Tian’s urgency. But if they were two weeks away, “How did you—”
They stepped out into a meadow. Tian’s unasked question was answered as he gaped at the five enormous birds resting there. The Hua called them Difeng, with some foreign cultures erroneously naming them phoenixes. With a wingspan of thirty feet, they were a fourth the size of the even rarer true phoenixes, known as Tianfeng.
They had heads that resembled pheasants, but a peacock tail. Their legs were long and taloned like cranes, while their wings were much like swallows. Their brightly colored gold-and-silver feathers sparkled in the sunlight.
Tian sucked in a breath. Eight lived in the imperial aviary, and came out for the New Year’s processions. Besides female members of the royal family, only a handful of female imperial guards were trained to ride them. They hadn’t been used in times of war since the Tianzi’s ancestor reunified Hua nearly three hundred years before.
Five women in the regalia of the imperial guard tended to the birds, pausing to greet Ma Jun with a right first in their left palm. Two other women wearing Moquan utility suits took stock of weapons and equipment. A similarly-dressed boy of no more than twelve years worked among them.
Jie went over to a saddle on the ground. “I brought you presents.” She withdrew his curved dao sword, a black utility suit, and a bandolier of small throwing weapons. “You left these in Iksuvius, and I couldn’t bear to imagine Bovyan paws on them.”
Hefting the sword, Tian gazed at the phoenixes with a curious eye.
As always, Jie seemed to read his thoughts. “The Tianzi wanted his sister rescued as soon as possible. We knew you wanted a team of twelve brothers, but only five of the eight phoenixes were deemed fit to fly under the conditions. Weight also affects their range, so I picked three of the lightest Moquan to join in. We can send the imperial riders back and have another five of us within four days. Zheng Ming’s troops are two weeks away, but there is also a fortress under construction halfway between here and Dongmen which may slow them down.”
Tian shook his head. “We can’t wait that long.”
Jie narrowed her eyes at him. “Can five of us do it?”
Ma Jun also glared at him, his expression answering, no.
“We have to try.” Tian sighed. Ma Jun’s silent objection was right. Tian lacked objectivity and needed someone with fresh eyes.
He motioned for Jie to follow him back into the woods, dreading what he had to tell her. Ma Jun and Lana both offered him sympathetic smiles.
Out of sight and earshot of the others, he turned around to face his long-time friend and almost-lover, afraid she’d throw herself into his arms before he could open his mouth.
He didn’t have to worry.
She stood at an angle, her eyes at the ground. “I concede our chess match. Your queen was in too strong a position. It’s written in the expressions of your friends, and even your expression speaks louder than words.”
The hurt in her voice yanked at Tian’s heart. He’d betrayed his duty, betrayed his best friend. He hung his head, contrite. “Then you know why I need you now. The First Consul is doing horrible things to her. I heard it myself. All I can do is think about how much I need to free her.” And kill him.
Jie didn’t answer, and he looked up to meet her scathing glance. It hurt worse than any sword cut. He wouldn’t blame her if she refused to help.
The half-elf let out a sigh. “I would like to believe the princess is my friend, and it’s my duty to protect her where you couldn’t. Come back and share what you know about their defenses with the rest of the team. Know that I will not risk the lives or virtue of the women in my charge unless there is a good chance of success.”
Among the others, Tian was meticulous in his details: the position of buildings, the timing of the guard changing, their posts, when Kanin tribesmen were coming and going. The Moquan and imperial guards asked questions and provided input; Lana volunteered her tie to the spirits.
Jie’s solution was simple.
CHAPTER 55:
Confrontations
With no indication of any weather besides clear skies, Jie gawked at Lana’s invocation of the spirits. Clouds rolled in and blotted out the stars, and even the soft light of the Iridescent Moon. Thick fog billowed at ground level, to a height of a dozen feet. None of that affected her elf vision’s ability to see either the sixteen soldiers circling the fortress roof, or the two guards in the crow’s nest.
She looked behind her. Tian’s phoenix lagged behind, burdened by his weight. Yet one more reason he was worthless.
Jie shook the bitterness out of her head. There were more important things to take care of. Like capturing the crow’s nest.
The large guards there leaned against the tree, neither taking their duties seriously. Her superior hearing allowed her to discern the two men’s conversation over the rushing wind.
“The emperor has been here a long time,” the first said in a low whisper.
“Yes, he’s too preoccupied with
the Cathayi princess.”
“Amazing to think the distinguished Emperor Geros, the greatest leader in our history, has lost his focus because of a woman.”
“He spends so much time with her. What if the prophecy comes to pass?”
Jie signaled her rider with a tap on her shoulder, and the woman withdrew a bow from the saddle and nocked an arrow.
“Bah! Prophecies are fairy tales, meant to keep us in line.”
“But—”
Jie opened the shutter of a light bauble lamp for a split second, spotlighting the guards. The man never had a chance to finish his sentence, as an arrow lodged in his throat. Several other arrows followed from different angles, felling the second before he could react.
Jie patted the rider’s back, admiring her ability to shoot from a flying mount. Even more amazing was how she guided the phoenix into a smooth landing on the rail of the crow’s nest. In short order, the others joined them, with Tian coming last.
The five Moquan dropped soundlessly to the platform, followed by the five lithe riders. As planned, Jie motioned for the latter to stay, while the rest darted down the stairs wrapping around the tree trunk.
She gauged the distance from the rooftop entrance to the sixteen soldiers circling the perimeter—too many to take out before they could raise an alarm. She passed the message with a series of pats on the sister behind her.
Quiet as death, they bypassed those guards altogether, instead continuing downwards into the fortress and onto the landing of the third floor.
The landing opened into a hallway, and Jie peered out. The interior light globes were shuttered at this late hour, leaving the corridor barely lit by a window at the end of the hall.
Her elf sight barely made out a blurry shape about sixty feet away to her right. His breathing capacity implied a large man, almost certainly Bovyan given the circumstances.
She extended a leg into the hall and placed her foot gingerly on the floor. Hardwood. She gradually shifted her weight onto it to test the sound. Firm, no squeaks.
She reached back and tapped Tian. The series of signals would let him know about the guard. If his brain wasn’t too addled by love, he’d pass the order for the others to continue with their plan: the two women were to continue down to guard the stairwell on the second-floor landing, while the boy would hold his position on the third floor.
Jie crept towards her victim. He showed no signs of noticing her presence, and when she was close enough, she covered his mouth and slashed his throat with a curved dagger. The man crumpled to the floor.
She waited until the body went limp before removing her hand.
On her tactile signal, Tian moved to the door and ran skilled hands over it. He reached back and tapped her arm. Locked. Can’t see.
She produced her magical light, cupping it carefully in her hands so that only a small sliver shone on the door handle’s plate. They worked so well together, like the gears of a dwarf clock.
Tian removed his lockpick pouch and withdrew a tool. His hands trembled, causing the pick to scrape with a light sound.
Jie rolled her eyes. Taking the deceptively heavy pouch from him, she felt for the correct tool. With an expert twist, the lock yielded in her hands, and she gently pressed the door to test the hinges. The tremor on the door suggested they were well-oiled. She silently pushed the door open.
Tian slid in without a sound, while Jie stood guard at the doorway, wondering what to do with the body.
The room was almost pitch black, but Tian heard someone breathing. He knew the pattern. Kaiya. Heart racing with excitement and joy, he glided over and knelt by her bed. He put one hand over her mouth and another over her wrist.
Kaiya gasped in surprise and started to struggle.
“Shhhhhh. It’s me,” he whispered.
She sucked in a breath and sobbed. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around him, her slim shoulders shaking against his body, her hot tears warm on his chest. Her hand rose to his face, which was covered by his mask.
He pulled down the mask and pressed his cheek into her forehead. Her suffering, the result of his decisions. He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry to have put you through this.”
She only shuddered. He stroked her hair, trying to calm and reassure her.
When she quieted, she whispered, “Tian, I’d given up hope.”
Jie quietly dragged the dead guard into the room. “Tian, we must get out soon.” From her tone, she must’ve been wearing the most sarcastic expression.
Tian stood and helped Kaiya to her feet. “We need to escape before anyone knows we’re here.”
He took her hand and guided her back through the dark hall towards the stairwell. Tian winced. Kaiya, though light on her feet, still made too much noise. If anyone heard…
The rest of the team waited at the stairwell. One grasped Tian’s hand and tapped.
Emperor. Asleep. Second floor.
Tian’s free hand clenched into a fist tight enough to crush rocks. The bastard! The night before…he would pay. For that, and what he must have done for the last two weeks.
Tian placed Kaiya’s hand in Jie’s and started toward the steps.
Kaiya grasped his sleeve. She tugged, even as he drew away. “Tian.”
She’d broken the silence! Tian tensed, listening for telltale signs of guards. The rustling sounds suggested she and Jie were engaged in a minor tussle of wills.
One which Kaiya won. “Tian, don’t leave me…” Her pleading voice chipped at his resolve. She needed his protection. He thirsted for revenge.
He whispered, “The emperor will pursue you. As long he lives. I’m going to punish him. For what he did to you, my beloved.”
Around him, the Moquan drew sharp breaths, tensed up.
Jie hissed in a barely audible voice, “Tian, remember the mission. Remember objectivity. And if you cannot do that, remember your duty to your beloved.”
“Tian, please.” Kaiya drew him close, taking his hand and placed it over her belly. She leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I need you more than ever. To protect my unborn child.”
Unborn child? Heavens. Tian’s heart thudded in his chest. His child? With her?
All the keen-eared Moquan must’ve heard her. The collective gasp confirmed his worry. He stood dumbstruck.
Jie poked him. “If you don’t want Geros raising your child, you need to come now.”
Yes. Protecting the child and Kaiya took first priority. He took her hand and guided her up the steps. All they had to do now was gain the roof and slip quietly up to the tower without the perimeter guards seeing them.
The heavy thud of booted feet came from above. A glimmer of light danced near the exit to the roof.
“Hide,” Jie whispered.
The Moquan women slipped inaudibly down the stairs, while the boy vaulted upwards into a ceiling corner and suspended himself there. Jie glided into the hallway. Tian and Kaiya, however…they were already halfway up the stairs.
Two Bovyans froze there with light bauble lamps in hand, eyes wide, mouths agape.
In the blink of an eye, Tian reached into his bandolier and threw three spikes. With the narrow stairwell, the lead Bovyan took the brunt of the attack and tumbled down with a pin in his throat.
The last spike grazed the other Teleri along the temple. He fell back. “Intruders!”
“Intruders!” The message relayed above them, shouts ringing out and horns blaring.
Tian groaned. Now they had to get past fifteen guards on the roof.
Bright lights flooded the top of the stairs. Heavy boots thudded and crossbows cocked. The fortress would soon be on full alert.
“To the tower. Eliminate all threats,” Jie ordered.
Tian pulled Kaiya down to the third-floor landing. “They’re gathering at the top. Armed with crossbows.”
“They are mobilizing on the lower levels,” announced one of the Moquan from below.
Outnumbered above and below! Ti
an’s stomach clenched.
A chorus of pained grunts came from above. A Teleri voice yelled, “Archers in the tower!”
Jie growled. “That’s our escape. The imperial riders don’t stand a chance against the Bovyans in hand-to-hand combat.”
The Teleri footsteps below were nearly upon them.
The Moquan’s voice from below shook with disbelief. “They have…muskets.”
Muskets. When and where had the Teleri acquired them? Their range threatened a phoenix, though their accuracy was suspect. Tian tapped his chin. They couldn’t take a chance with Kaiya’s safety.
“We are trapped between a hammer and an anvil.” The boy’s tone sounded like he’d already accepted his fate.
Accept fate.
The words from Tian’s vision echoed back to him now. Ever since he’d locked Kaiya in an armor cabinet a decade ago, it’d been his fate to selflessly toil as a cog in Hua’s spy network. He found acceptance and belonging there. Work became his passion. In falling in love with Kaiya, and worse, acting on those emotions, he’d shirked fate, abandoned his duty.
It was time to correct that mistake now. Accept fate.
Tian gazed at Kaiya, memorizing every line of her angelic face. “I’ll hold the stairwell. The rest of you make sure the princess escapes.”
Kaiya’s eyes widened in the dim, wavering light. “No, Tian, you must come with me. I beg it.”
“I am sorry, my love. It’s my fate to die here. So that you…and our child…might live.”
Kaiya squeezed tight at his arms. “Come, Zheng Tian, I command it.”
Tian ran his hand through her hair and down her cheek, brushing the tears away. “The penalty for disobeying your order is death. That is my fate.”
She pressed herself against him, burying her face in his shoulder, clutching at him. His resolve faltered.
Accept fate.
He met Jie’s eyes. The bitter expression she’d worn since their most recent reunion melted away, her face softening as she haltingly shook her head and blinked away tears. She could always read his mind. She understood the message, even if she denied its necessity. Her voice caught in her throat, but he made out the words, I’m sorry.