by JC Kang
She straightened her carriage. “People of Hua, to me.”
The riders, the Moquan, and Ma Jun all dropped to one knee, fist to the ground. “As the princess commands,” they shouted in unison.
“My first command is silence. Even if the Tianzi himself asks you about my relationship with Young Lord Zheng, or the product of our union, you will beg for death before betraying my secret.”
“As the princess commands.”
She turned to Ma Jun. “Imperial guard Ma Jun. You are released from active service to the realm.” Ignoring his shocked look, she held out the rings of the imperial guards who had sacrificed themselves for her. “For now, your duty is to pray for the repose of your fallen comrades in arms: Xu Zhan, Li Wei, Zhao Yue, and Chen Xin. Know that in the future, you may be called upon again. When you have settled in your final destination, send word to Hua of your whereabouts.”
Head bowed, Ma Jun received the rings. “Dian-xia. Your humble servant accepts your command.”
She took his hands in her own. “Jun, although you have always been my loyal guard, you are also my Maki brother. Please take care of Lana and the village.”
She then turned to Lana and clasped her hands. “Sister, thank you for making me a part of your family, and then coming for me in my most desperate hour. Please take care of Jun for us.”
Lana simply smiled. “Go with the spirits, Sister. Remember that you always have a home here, with us, among the trees.”
After bidding the twins farewell, Kaiya mounted up behind the lead imperial rider. The phoenixes spread their great wings, taking flight. A spring headwind whipped through her hair as the meadow disappeared into the distance, along with the carefree life she’d always wanted.
Late in the day, Kaiya spotted the Great Wall, snaking its way above the forests through Hua’s mountainous border. Stone watchtowers placed every dozen li along the wall sent smoke signals, relaying word of her return.
They landed near the Great East Gate of Hua. Here, the Kanin Plateau ended, and the North Kanin River spilled into the Hua basin as a six-hundred-foot-wide, fifty-foot-high waterfall not far from Tian’s hometown of Dongmen.
Swollen by spring melt, the falls roared above all other sounds. The mist formed a rainbow that danced in the sunlight, providing a spectacular backdrop for the delicate pink plum blossoms that now reached peak bloom. Over the centuries, hundreds of poets had written thousands of verses about the stunning scene.
Kaiya’s reaction was completely different. In years past, she would visit the falls in spring, allowing the breathtaking vista to fill her spirit with inspiration. Today, she did not feel her heart stirring; her mind simply analyzed the composition and mechanics of the scene.
On her command, the imperial riders set the phoenixes down in the central square of a town bordering the waterfall lake.
Dismounting, she turned to Jie. “I am going to Dongmen Castle. Spread rumors that I have sequestered myself there to recover from my trek through the Wilds. Send word to Doctor Wu in the capital to meet me there. I do not wish to see the Tianzi until after I have had time to consult with my doctor.”
Jie’s eyes wavered. “Dian-xia, your father is dead. Your second brother Kai-Wu is now Tianzi.”
Had her emotions not been locked away by the Tiger’s Eye, Kaiya imagined she would be reeling in shock. Not only was Father gone, but her second brother, the less capable of the two, now ruled. “Why did Kai-Guo not inherit?”
“He, too, is dead.” Jie bowed her head.
Kaiya considered the implications with complete impartiality. It could not be coincidence that both her father and healthy brother had died in such a short time. After Kai-Wu, the next in line to the Jade Throne was…her cousin, the traitor Kai-Long. Or perhaps her unborn son?
EPILOGUE
In his fury at Princess Kaiya’s escape, Geros executed many of the slaves who rose up that night. Their severed heads adorned the palisade walls as a warning to any others who dared defy him. Their mutilated bodies were left out for carrion birds to feast on.
However, Bovyan culture glorified valiant death, with enemy soldiers afforded the same respect as their own. The bodies of the three Cathayi, a woman among them, were cleaned and set on a crude raft with the Teleri dead. Their cold hands clasped weapons. Geros himself set the broken dao in the dead man’s hands.
With a light bauble at the head of the raft to guide their souls into the netherworld, they were sent downstream in a solemn ceremony.
Geros watched the raft as it disappeared downriver in the direction of Cathay, where his operative worked to weaken the country from within. Civil war would tear the nation apart within two years—coinciding with Teleri pacification of the Wilds, and making it ripe for the picking. The Directori would again hail his genius.
With the Curse of Tivar, he would not be alive to witness it.
Or would he? The words of Princess Kaiya’s ancestor came unbidden to his mind: The best-laid plans rarely survive the first encounter.
Geros had not expected to battle the Cathayi this early. Even though he had ostensibly won the first engagement, he left himself with an unenviable decision. He would not stand for his unborn son to be raised by a nation of artists and merchants.
He turned to a general. “Send word to Captain Miris in Fortress Ten. We will begin amassing soldiers for the invasion of Cathay immediately.”
Soon, Cathay would be his, two years ahead of schedule…along with Princess Kaiya and their son.
For four days, Kaiya sat by a window in the private wing of Dongmen Castle, waiting for her doctor to arrive. If anyone could tell her something about her unborn child, it would be the ancient and mysterious Doctor Wu, who could look at a tongue and discern how long her patient slept on a specific night three years prior.
Kaiya’s next move hinged on her baby. If it were Tian’s, she would wed his brother Zheng Ming immediately. If it was Geros’…well, there was a Bovyan prophecy to consider.
“Dian-xia.” One of the castle servants came to the open door and dropped to a knee. “Doctor Wu has arrived from the capital.”
By habit, Kaiya’s hand lifted to the collar that marked her as Geros’ slave—since removed by Jie’s lockpicking skills. Her heart beat in her ears, slow and steady. “Show her in.”
With Fang Weiyong in her shadow, Doctor Wu entered and dropped down to her knees with the grace of a woman a quarter of her age. How old that really was, no one was really sure; though some speculated that as Master of the Dao, she had achieved immortality.
Pulled up into an austere coil, her long silver hair had a faint bluish sheen. Her eyes were unique among the Hua: a luminous pale blue, reminiscent of the moon Guanyin’s Eye. Hair-thin lines of wisdom fanned out from the edges of those startling eyes, yet left her cheeks unmarred.
“Dian-xia, I have come at your summons. What is your bidding?”
“Thank you, Doctor. Please, take my pulse and tell me what you feel.”
Doctor Wu motioned towards Fang Weiyong and smiled. “A master is as only good as her student.”
“Dian-xia, forgive me for my impertinence.” Weiyong bowed and placed three fingers on both of her wrists. After a minute, he looked up, his eyes sparkling as if a secret were passed between them. “You are pregnant. I would guess it is a boy.”
Kaiya shrugged, and turned to Doctor Wu. The old woman brushed Fang aside as if he were a cherry blossom in a spring wind, and took up Kaiya’s wrists in the same manner as Weiyong had.
She held Kaiya in her gaze. “Not a boy. Two.”
Coming out of a coma on a funeral barge next to a dozen cold bodies was not as unsettling as knowing he had somehow intentionally put himself into that coma...the Viper’s Rest? Though he didn’t remember how he’d gotten on the log raft, or even who he was, he knew he’d awoken too early, before his injuries had stabilized.
His raft had come ashore, lodging in the rich-smelling earth. The river, swollen by spring melt, tumbled past, while the
wind rustled in budding tree branches. A cool breeze brushed across his bare chest, causing his skin to erupt in goosebumps.
He groaned and pushed himself up into a sitting position. A warm sensation trickled down his back, emanating from the spot where pain seared in his shoulder. That stab wound, unlike the numerous cuts all over his body, would bleed him out. Each heartbeat brought him closer to death.
Two lithe figures dressed in doeskin clothing stared at him with wide, almond-shaped eyes. With the streaks of red and white paint across their face and feathers in their hair, they looked as rustic as the untamed forest around them. They were...elves. Though how he knew it, he couldn’t tell.
The silence lasted only a few seconds. One—a brown-haired male with sharp features and a sharper dagger—put his hands on his hips and pointed at his feet. When he spoke, the threat in his voice belied the flowery language. “Amane esaya na!”
BOOK 4: SYMPHONY OF FATES
PROLOGUE:
Of Gems and Dragons
Celastya had never seen a dragon transform into human form against its will before. From Avarax’s shocked look as he swept his gaze over his now-tiny arms and legs, neither had he.
For millennia, he had forcibly mated with her and ate the resulting eggs to keep her energy low and enhance his own. Though she enjoyed a seven-hundred year reprieve as he dreamed through magically-induced slumber, Avarax had awoken on this night, when the heavens rained fire.
Thanks to her elf friend Xu transforming him into a human, she finally had an advantage. Her serpentine form now dwarfed Avarax.
The former dragon had little time to lament his frail new body. Xu thrust a thin sword at his chest.
The enchanted blade didn’t even nick Avarax’s soft skin. All three stared, wide-eyed.
Then Avarax looked up, bewildered expression transforming into a malevolent grin. He spoke a single word of power, sending the elf reeling to the sandy beach.
With Avarax’s attention on Xu, Celastya dove at him. He was so tiny now, she’d rip him limb from limb with her talons. He met her first swipe with a punch to the claw. The pain rippled through her foreleg and into her core. The Pearl housed there shuddered. Undaunted, she swung her other claw.
She found only air. Avarax was gone.
Celastya snaked her head around. Neither elf nor dragon was anywhere to be found on the island beach. Before she could piece together what might have happened, Xu materialized out of thin air and collapsed into the sand.
“What happened, Xu?”
“We were lucky to take him by surprise. I froze time and transported him to the other side of Tivaralan. Though forced into human form, he still has all the vitality of a dragon. It took all of my energy to move him.”
Celastya scratched her whiskers. She’d never imagined a mortal could be so powerful. “He will return.”
The elf staggered to his feet. “Yes, but he will have to walk. It will take him years, unless he finds a way to regain his own form.”
“And when he does?”
Xu sighed. “Let us hope I have time to teach someone with the right voice to sing him back to sleep.”
Celastya’s spine stiffened. The slave girl Yanyan, who had first accomplished the feat, died seven centuries ago. No one since had such a unique voice. It seemed hopeless. “Avarax will always find a way. He wants my Pearl, especially since he has not drained its energy for seven hundred years.”
The elf searched her expression, and then pointed into space. “Tomorrow night, Ayara’s Eye will be at its widest aspect this year. It will meet with the full white moon and full iridescent moon in the God’s Eye Conjunction. Istrium energies will wax to their strongest in three hundred years. With the power of this island and your Pearl combined, I can open up a rift in time and space. Pick a time and place, and I will send you there. You can escape and never have to worry about Avarax again. Consider it and we can speak again tomorrow.”
Celastya coiled herself around the rune-engraved arch that spanned the mouth of the atoll, allowing the vibrations of the island to resonate through her. She pondered the suggestion through the night.
How she longed to return to the last place where she had truly been happy. When she walked in human form. When she loved a human man; a man who died in a petty human struggle for mortal power.
The night brightened to dawn, and day darkened to night. Heavy clouds of ash from the previous night’s devastation choked the atmosphere, blotting out the heavens. Though unseen, the celestial bodies rose to their inevitable meeting, low in the southern sky. The energy of the world resonated louder and louder to all who could feel it.
Toward dusk, Xu approached the arch. A young human woman accompanied him, dressed in tight-fitting black pants and a long black shirt, whose material and fashion looked out of place in this era. Her black hair and honey-toned skin marked her as Cathayi. She held a fist-sized globe of istrium, shedding a pale blue light. She gawked as her gaze swept across Celastya’s serpentine form.
Xu bowed low. “Have you decided?”
Celastya drew a deep breath and coughed out her Pearl. The size of the elf’s head, it swirled in colors like the iridescent moon.
Xu studied it, eyes curious. “When and where do you wish to go?”
Celastya recalled the moment she had fled the battlefield on her lover’s orders, and held the image in her memories. She willed it into his mind.
With a nod, he chanted in the musical language of Deep Magic. Her Pearl’s colors whirled faster, and the ground vibrated. The istrium sphere glowed brighter in the woman’s hands as the island’s energy coursed through Celastya and into the elf. The space under the arch wavered and flashed, and a wormhole opened.
Through the portal, the graceful eaves and wooden columns appeared familiar, as did the armor of the fighting men. A middle-aged warlord, ambushed and outnumbered, held a curved sword aloft. Yet it was not her lover, the one who had died two thousand years ago. When she saw silent flashes of musket fire, she knew it was the wrong era.
The human woman at her side gasped, nearly dropping the sphere, and looked from the portal to the elf and back.
Celastya shook her head. “This is the right place, but almost four hundred years too late.”
The elf held the Pearl aloft. “I am sorry, this is the best I can do. Space is easy to traverse, but time is very hard to pinpoint.”
Celastya’s sigh sent waves across the atoll. It would be meaningless to go there; yet it would be a safe place to hide her Pearl against Avarax’s return. She could remain here and, to some degree, even draw on her gemstone’s energy across the vast distances.
The scene in the arch shifted, tracking the warlord as he retreated into a central building. Fires blazed around him. A wooden sign with Original Mastery Temple engraved in Cathayi script crashed to the ground. Celastya had lived through that era, as wife to one of the warlord’s most trusted vassals. The building would burn to the ground, killing the warlord. Her husband would usher in a new age in that nation’s history. “I will take the Pearl and hide it there.”
Xu raised a halting hand. “Without our combined energies to hold the rift open, the portal will collapse. You will be trapped in that time and place.”
The Cathayi woman raised her hand. She spoke in a strange language, foreign to this world, but not to the one beyond the arch. “I will take the Pearl there.”
As a dragon, Celastya could understand her words.
Xu apparently could as well. He shook his head at her. “Miss Wang, though you come from that world, it is a different time than you know. It is a dangerous task.”
Wang patted a weapon at her side. “I am up to the task. Both that era in history, and that man there, have always fascinated me.”
Xu and Celastya exchanged glances. If Xu trusted the woman, Celastya could see no reason to doubt her. In any case, the Pearl would be safe. Celastya nodded.
Xu’s ageless brow furrowed. “I will see if I can move the portal over to a safer
place.”
The scene shifted, pushing through burning temple halls. Flaming beams cracked and fell. At last, they settled on an interior courtyard, where some roof tiles had collapsed. The rubble partially obscured a well.
“There.” Celastya pointed a talon toward the well.
The elf placed the Pearl into the woman’s hands. She waded into the water and crossed through the threshold with a pop.
“Are you sure this is the right thing to do?” Xu regarded Celastya through half-lidded eyes.
“No. But when are we ever sure of decisions like these?”
Both turned and watched as Wang picked her way through burning debris. Reaching the well, she peered down. Then she dropped the Pearl into its depths.
Wang looked back through the portal for several seconds. However, instead of coming back through, she dashed through the halls.
“Turn around! Come back!” Xu yelled, though Wang would not hear him.
“She will alter the timeline of that world,” Celaysta said, wondering about the consequences. Wang’s weapon could turn the tide of the ambush, if she chose to interfere, and change the history of a nation. Maybe the world’s.
Growling, Xu focused on the arch again. The image followed Wang as she ducked and weaved through fallen debris. At last, they saw the doomed warlord kneeling, broken katana in hand, preparing to disembowel himself. Behind him, a young warrior raised his sword, ready to behead the man.
Of course. Their culture glorified honorable deaths. Celastya remembered it well, how her lover had charged into his enemies. She could have saved him, but it would have meant revealing her true identity as a dragon. He would have reviled her, and cursed her for denying him a glorious death. Celastya turned back to the portal.