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

by JC Kang

  He only had to keep her trust a little longer. He tilted his head toward a passerby. “We are almost to the safehouse. Let us speak more of this in private.”

  “Very well.” Her passive expression would make a Moquan envious.

  After a few more minutes, he brought them to a warehouse and opened the door for her. “In here. Imperial guards, the princess is safe for now. Wait here and one of my men will come and take you to a nearby inn.”

  Or rather, to a temporary prison, but they didn’t need to know it.

  The captain stepped forward. “Our duty is to the princess. We must accompany her.”

  The man took the title a little too seriously. Well, soldiers would be soldiers. Nothing he hadn’t planned for. Liang Yu raised an eyebrow at the princess.

  She nodded. “They will enter as well.”

  No matter. He had prepared for this contingency, even if he had hoped to prevent any bloodshed. Had the Surgeon been here, he’d already be killing. Liang Yu cast a quick glance around to make sure they’d not picked up a tail. “Come along, then. This is not our final destination.”

  He guided them through some twists and turns until they appeared thoroughly bewildered. At last, he came to his trading company’s warehouse. He held the door open for the princess.

  She nodded and stepped in. The doctor and the eight guards followed close behind. Inside, the light baubles illuminated the middle of the spacious empty room, but not the sides, just as planned. The guards and doctor looked around, taking in the new surroundings.

  The princess’ head swept from one side of the room to the other, before her gaze settled on Liang Yu. Her nose scrunched up. “This was not exactly what I expected…”

  She wouldn’t expect what happened next, either. He closed the door and edged forward, ready to separate his walking stick into a knife and spear. “Now.”

  Shrouded in the darkness of the mezzanine above, dozens of repeating crossbows cocked.

  Taking advantage of the imperial soldiers’ initial shock, Liang Yu slipped between them. They backed into a circle around the princess, but he was already close. He pushed the doctor to the side and hooked his knife around her throat. The doctor took a step toward him, but Liang Yu placed the tip of his spear at his chest.

  “Don’t try to sing any commands,” Liang Yu said. No, after falling victim to the power of her voice a year before, he’d taken precautions. “Some of my men’s ears are covered, and they await signals.”

  She raised her hands. “What is the meaning of this?”

  How could she show no signs of fear? Liang Yu pressed the blade obliquely into her neck. “You are in no position to ask questions. You are all trapped. There is no need for anyone to die. Tell your men to stand down.”

  “We…” the captain said, “we are willing to…die for you, Dian-xia.”

  The lack of enthusiasm in his voice was depressing. Liang Yu snorted. Perhaps these men weren’t worth keeping around.

  Lowering her hand, the princess spoke in a steady voice, “Captain, order your men to surrender.”

  The captain’s words trembled out of his mouth. “Men, drop your weapons. Hands on your heads.”

  The imperial soldiers wasted no time in obeying. There would be no need for bloodshed, at least not yet.

  Liang Yu beckoned his own men with his spear. “Bind them. You, Dian-xia, come with me.”

  “Fu, if only three provinces stand with the throne, I must go to the palace to convince the others to join. Hua’s survival depends on it.”

  Perhaps he misread her, if she wanted to unite the nation against the rebel. Still, her military acumen left a lot to be desired. He chuckled. “Only Yutou Province stands with Peng. They hardly constitute a threat. Even with the Madurans—”

  “Madurans?” The shock in her wide eyes had to be genuine.

  He cocked his head. “Who did you think was invading us?”

  The princess pointed north. “The Teleri army, led by Emperor Geros himself, occupies Dongmen.”

  Dongmen? His men erupted in murmurs. She was pointing in the wrong direction, but still. It must be a trick, to throw him off-guard. The bonfires on the Great Wall and fire towers would have brought news within an hour. Even if no one heeded the signal, they would listen to the daily couriers out of Dongmen.

  Still, if she were telling the truth, nothing stood between Dongmen and Huayuan. The entire North was virtually undefended, while an incompetent ruled as regent. A perfect storm, caused in part by his own past actions. The Beauty would’ve been laughing at him right about now. She’d always predicted he would make a huge mistake. “Are you certain? There has been no such news.”

  The princess glared at him. “Of course I am certain. Lord Zheng was about to let the Bovyans in when I left.”

  A collaborator! That would explain it. Lord Zheng must have waylaid the imperial couriers and made sure the fire signals remained unlit. “Very well, Dian-xia. I will have one of my men send a warning to the palace now.”

  “You must let me go to the palace myself. I will take the risk. I will make them listen.”

  “Not so fast.” First, he needed to confirm it. “We must talk first. Come along.”

  “Allow Fang Weiyong to accompany me.”

  Liang Yu evaluated him with a quick glance. The doctor had shown no signs of fighting skill, and probably wouldn’t pose a significant threat. He also had the imperial plaque. “Very well. Your men are my hostages. Any sign of disobedience, and I will kill one of them, starting with your doctor.” Snapping his spear and knife back together into a walking stick, he held an open hand toward the warehouse office. “Please.”

  She cast him a scathing glare. “Who are you?”

  No sign of worry. He blanked his own expression. “I will answer your question, but in the privacy of that room. Please walk. The doctor first.”

  The doctor looked at the princess, and she nodded. He turned and led her to the office. Liang Yu followed one step behind. At the door, he darted to the side and opened it for them.

  Kidnapping her had made so much sense before. However, if what she said was true about the Teleri invasion of the undefended North, maybe she was the only one who could bring the country together.

  Without the least amount of fear, she walked into his office. It was time to ascertain if she was telling the truth.

  Kaiya took a deep breath. She’d walked blindly into a trap, duped as if she were Avarax’s fool again. Her hand strayed to Tian’s lockpick pouch. For now, at least, her escort was safe. If she could only figure out who these people were and what they wanted. She stepped into a small room, with a single window that bathed the room in afternoon light.

  A silhouetted figure stood on the other side of a bloodwood desk. He cradled what appeared to be a repeating crossbow in his arms. At least he didn’t point it at them.

  Fu gestured her toward the two bloodwood chairs in front of the desk. She glided over and settled on the edge of one, while Weiyong stood on her left.

  Seemingly unconcerned about the Teleri invasion, Fu walked by them and took a seat behind the desk, next to the other man. With the sun at his back, she couldn’t read his expression; not that she was good at it in the first place.

  “Now, to answer your question,” Fu said. “I am a spice merchant with the nation’s best interests at heart.”

  And a Moquan. Perhaps the renegade who had perpetrated all the attacks a year before. She pursed her lips. If he really had the nation’s best interests at heart, he had a strange way of showing it. “Then send a message to the palace. At least let them know of the Bovyan invasion.”

  “Of course.” He bowed, and then gestured toward the doctor. “You gave him an imperial plaque earlier. Give it to me.”

  The imperial plaque? What was he talking…

  The doctor cocked his head. “I—”

  She held up an open hand, silencing him. Fu must have mistaken Tian’s tablet for the imperial plaque. Now it was bargaining levera
ge. Blasphemous, all the same. “Weiyong, give me the plaque.”

  “But Dian-xia—”

  He was sweet, but he could be so dense sometime. Of course, she didn’t know where the real plaque was any more than Weiyong. In her frightened younger self’s haste to escape Iksuvius, she’d forgotten it. Maybe Emperor Geros had recovered it. She suppressed a shudder as a twinge of fear sparked, only to be smothered by the Tiger’s Eye. Keeping her focus locked forward, she extended her hand to the doctor. “You won’t be taking it to the palace now.”

  Understanding bloomed in Weiyong’s eyes. He bowed and proffered the pouch. Kaiya turned and received it in two hands. Fu’s henchman took a step forward with an outstretched arm.

  Fu barred his way with the walking staff. “Dian-xia, Little Song here needs the plaque to prove he is your messenger.”

  She glared at him. “I will not have an insurgent—”

  “Patriot,” Fu said. “Little Song cares about Hua. He is the son of the former Foreign Minister Song Henglin.

  At Song’s new angle, she could see his face clearly. Yes, it was Song Xingyuan, the son of Minister Song, who’d held the Chief Minister title for a single day…before it was revealed his son was an insurgent. She’d strongarmed the young man into giving her the Dragon Scale Lute, three years ago. Perhaps that disgrace had pushed him into rebellion. Maybe he held a grudge against her.

  Song dropped to one knee, head bowed. Fu, too, nodded in respect to the supposed plaque. Apparently, he still recognized the symbol of the Tianzi and the Mandate of Heaven.

  Summoning her tone of imperial authority, though not as effective as the power of her voice, she said, “For now, I will keep the plaque.”

  Fu smirked. “What keeps me from taking it from you?”

  “Mutual benefit. I could have sung the order for your men to kill each other.” She tucked the pouch into the fold of her robe. He believed she still had her power; would he believe her bluff now? If her frightened younger self could trick a dragon, her older self, armed with the Tiger’s Eye, could deceive a man. “However, if you are a patriot and the information about Lord Liu is true, then I will need you.”

  She kept her expression impassive as his eyes searched hers.

  At last, he leaned back in his chair. “I will bring a friend of yours here, one who can get into the palace with no proof of identity.”

  Kaiya pursed her lips. Who was he speaking of? “I do not want any more people kidnapped.”

  Fu grinned. “She will come of her own free will. Little Song, go to the Linshan legation and tell Lin Ziqiu I have a mission for her.”

  Apparently the Tiger’s Eye couldn’t suppress surprise, because Kaiya’s mouth must have been gaping. Had Ziqiu been spying on her in the past, using flightiness as a disguise?

  CHAPTER 16:

  Cherry Pairs

  Thirty-three days. Feneyas estimated more than a cycle of the white moon would pass before he ever learned his identity, just because the wild elves insisted on maintaining pretenses with the humans. He could’ve gone straight to the Maki village himself; instead, the woodland messengers would go and deliver instructions for the shaman to come visit the sacred pool.

  Sacred, indeed.

  As if blue sand and exfoliated elf skin made the pool magic. It was almost a joke among the elves. Dior laughed, recounting how he had tricked a shaman and his two young children when they had visited a half a year before, by whispering in the wind and tossing rocks into the pool.

  In the meantime, life went on. More weapons practice, more hunting and foraging. Though restless, Feneyas at least had a chance to learn a little about woodcraft from Kiri and the others. Dior taught him the finer points of archery, though it did little more than earn the laughter of the elves when they watched.

  Well before dawn on the eighth day, Feneyas jerked out of sleep and nearly tumbled from his hammock.

  Kiri stood just ten paces away, frozen in her approach. She flashed him a mischievous grin. “No one can sneak up on you, even in your sleep. Now come, there’s a dawn-blooming everblossom I want to harvest.”

  Feneyas shook the fog out of his mind and lumbered to his feet. Following Kiri through the other hammocks of sleeping elves, he made his way down the tree steps to the ground.

  Little Kala beamed at him from the bottom, while Dior yawned. The bow and quiver strapped across his back did not seem suited for the task at hand.

  Feneyas poked Kiri in the back. “Do we really need four of us to pick flowers?”

  She batted her eyelashes. “No, but eight baskets carry more than four.”

  They set off down a path, with the three others barely making a sound. It helped that they could see in the dark. Then again, that was no excuse. He made plenty of noise traipsing across the forest paths in broad daylight.

  “What are the everblossoms for?” Feneyas asked in a low whisper.

  Kiri chuckled, but didn’t answer.

  Dior leaned in. “Women’s issues.”

  Before long, they arrived on a low ridge overlooking a clearing in the trees. Broadleaf plants covered the ground. Kiri motioned for them to stop, and pointed at the shrubbery. Kala crouched and stared at the closed sepals.

  The sky began to fade from black to dark blue, and the forest erupted with birdsong. Pink formed on the horizon, heralding the arrival of the sun. The groundcover burst forth in an explosion of yellow and white blooms.

  Kiri squeezed Feneyas’ hand, looking up to meet his gaze. Her smile was refreshing and happy.

  His stomach fluttered. Perhaps who he was didn’t matter, just that he belonged somewhere. All sounds of the forest quieted in that moment.

  In the distance, metal jingled.

  Feneyas spun in that direction, then back to meet Dior’s eyes. The elf’s ears twitched. His bow was already in hand.

  As the sounds grew louder, Dior motioned them off the ridge and into some bushes. Huddled by Kiri’s side, Feneyas lifted his head and ventured a glance out.

  A squad of Metal Men, all wearing black surcoats over chainmail hauberks, pushed through some brush and paused on the path Feneyas and the elves had taken. They stood just fifteen feet away.

  At point, a Kanin tribesman took a step and squatted, pressing his hand to the ground. The soldiers, eleven in all, gathered up behind him. Some passed a flask around and took swigs.

  One, with spiked shoulder guards and a steel breastplate, pushed forward toward the front of the column. He stood only as tall as his companions’ chests, but might have been just as broad and muscular. Shaggy black hair jutted out from beneath his half-helm, setting him apart from the others’ close-cropped coifs. Unlike his comrades’ longswords, this one had a wicked broadsword hanging at his side.

  He turned in Feneyas’ direction, revealing turquoise-colored skin in the early morning light. His squat, blocky face was so ugly, Feneyas probably would’ve remembered had he seen a more hideous person in his past life.

  Kiri dug her fingers into Feneyas’ arm as she shrank behind him.

  The guide bobbed his head over and over again. “Sorry, sorry,” he said in the Metal Men’s language. “I lost the half-elf’s trail.”

  Half-elf…they were searching for Kiri. Feneyas shifted over, as if it would protect his friend.

  Turquoise Man turned back and smacked the guide across the cheek, sending a loud crack echoing through the woods. He let out a series of foul syllables that could only be a curse.

  One of the Metal Men shoved the guide in the back. “If you don’t pick up the trail, we’ll chop your children to pieces. See if your legendary tracking skills can find them all.”

  The tribesman’s voice trembled. “Only two, not easy. And dark. Too dark to see.”

  “But fresh.” Turquoise Man seized the guide by the shoulder and yanked him to his feet. So strong.

  Kiri tugged at Feneyas. He looked at her.

  Let’s go, she mouthed. Her eyes glistened with tears. Her other hand clutched Kala’s hand. Kala’s
free hand covered her mouth, and her eyes were squeezed shut. Dior… Dior was nowhere to be found. Kiri let go of him and started to stand.

  Feneyas grabbed Kiri’s wrist and shook his head. Fleeing would give away their position. She squeezed his wrist back.

  The guide pointed toward the forest floor. “A track. Smaller human. Went that way.” He now pointed past Feneyas and the others, toward the ridge.

  The Metal Man shoved him in the back. “Then lead us.”

  Kiri’s grip tightened as the column jingled and clanged single-file past their hiding place.

  Feneyas held his breath.

  Kala burst into tears. She jumped up and bolted in the other direction. Kiri scrambled to her feet and ran after her.

  “Look! The half-elf!” More armor clinked as bodies turned this way and that, swords sweeping out of their scabbards.

  Turquoise Man jerked his head in Kiri’s direction, then lumbered through the underbrush after her. Despite his short legs, he moved fast. Two Metal Men followed.

  A bowstring twanged somewhere to the left. An arrow thwipped through air and lodged into a nearby Metal Man’s throat. Another brute collapsed into a heap nearby with an arrow through his eye. The fletching marked it as Dior’s.

  “Trap! Take cover!” the first Metal Man blurted.

  His comrades had already broken toward the cover of the trees, heads twisting every which way to find the source of the arrow. One poked his head out, only to take an arrow through the mouth.

  Three enemies fallen, the others pinned down by Dior’s marksmanship.

  And three in pursuit of Kiri and Kala.

  Feneyas leaped up and took off after his half-elf friends. Turning a corner on the path, he nearly tripped over one of the Metal Men, throat slashed with blood gushing out.

  Kiri’s scream tore through the forest from down the path. Oddly calm despite the chaos, Feneyas broke into a run.

  After several seconds, a trail of black blood appeared. The sounds of metal on metal clashed louder. Then, there they were.

  With his right arm hanging at his side, Turquoise Man leaned against a tree. He swung his broadsword in vicious arcs, keeping Kiri at bay.