by JC Kang
Nayori nodded. “Headed west, to your home beyond the Wall.”
Jie raised an open hand. “Not if we sabotage them here. Their army needs supplies, transported across the plateau.”
At least until they established a foothold in Hua and ravished the lands there. Tian’s eyed edged toward the shaman.
Nayori regarded Jie with a frown. “You would turn our home into a battleground.”
Muttering under his breath, Ming said, “The elf’s got a point.”
Jie’s glare immediately cowed him into silence. “If the Teleri occupy Cathay, they will engulf this area from two sides.”
“Just like the stories.” Dior sounded strange speaking in the language from beyond the Wall. “Our grandparents lived through the first human empires, who cut down the sacred trees and carved up our homeland.”
Kiri chimed in, her voice’s similarities to Jie’s more than a little disconcerting. “Until the Heavens rained fire.”
The elves murmured, their voices swirling around them like ghosts of the people from beyond the Wall. A shiver crawled up Tian’s spine.
“Allow us to stay just a little longer,” he said. “Until the shaman who knows me arrives.” It would not be much longer, maybe only four or five days.
Nayori’s gaze met each of the elves’. Some nodded, others shook their heads. None seemed completely convinced. “We will consider it,” she said. “Eat and rest. I will inform you of our decision tomorrow.”
Perhaps that would be enough time to get Kiri to reveal what she knew of the half-elves’ shared past—and in turn, get Jie to shed some light on the Doe-Eyed Girl.
Ming jerked straight up in his hammock, the bizarre dream yanking him from much-needed sleep. Princess Kaiya. His father. An unenviable choice. All slipped from his memory before he could process the meaning.
Bright light filtered in through the tree canopy, the dappling falling right across his face and waking him for good. Apparently, everything in this forest taunted him. He blinked the gunk from his eyes, and the little half-elf girl came into focus next to him.
Pointing down, Kala babbled something in a melodious language and beckoned for him to follow.
What was her rush, so early? Ming stretched his arms out…and his shoulder didn’t hurt. His eyes must be round as gold yuans. He stood and followed the girl down the trees. At the bottom, he looked up. Like before, there was no sign of the treetop village.
A tug on his sleeve brought his gaze back down. Kala held out some dried berries and lifted her chin to him. An offer. Ming extended his hand and she dumped them into his palm.
Chewing on the sweetish-sour berries, he followed the half-elf through twists and turns between the trees. Birds chirped and animals scuttled through the branches above, yet there was no other sign of intelligent life.
He tapped Kala on the shoulder. “Where are we going?”
She turned and cocked her head, but then pointed. “Friend. There.”
Ming scratched his chin. Apparently, the girl could speak a few words of the Hua tongue. After a few minutes they emerged into a clearing.
A dozen elves were gathered, practicing archery. Ming skidded to a halt, even as Kala continued walking. His shoulder felt great; maybe he could draw a bow. With all the women so beautiful, he sauntered over to the most scantily-clad. The brunette’s top, made of finely-stitched animal skin, exposed her midriff and revealed more than a Hua bust binder.
“May I?” He extended a hand toward her weapon.
She stared at him with liquid brown eyes that sent a tingle up his spine. Speaking a few words in what didn’t sound like Elvish, she patted the shoulder of a boy and proffered her bow and a quiver of arrows.
Kala appeared at his side. “She challenge.”
Challenge? A woman? All Ming wanted to do was test the draw. He pointed to the maiden and raised an eyebrow.
Kala shook her head, then tilted her chin toward the youth. He couldn’t be much older than the equivalent of twelve human years, and his bow looked like a toy. “Son.”
The insult! Ming fit an arrow and pointed at the rotting stump at thirty paces.
Shaking her head, the mother pointed in the distance.
Ming squinted. Apparently, she’d chosen a cone hanging from a sweet evergreen twice as far away as the stump. A difficult shot with his own weapon, and the weight and tension of the elf bow felt all wrong. At least his shoulder didn’t hurt at all. Just a little stiff. The shaman’s magic was nothing short of miraculous, despite the bizarre dreams that accompanied the healing.
He took aim at the cone. A little left. Up a little…and loosed.
The arrow flew between the gaps in the trees and lodged deep into a trunk just a few hands from the target. So much power! And close. Still, a sinking feeling settled in his gut. Could this kid hit such a small target, so far away? If he did… Oh, the embarrassment.
At his side, the boy drew the bow and shot in a quick, smooth motion. The arrow sailed true, dislodging the cone from the branch. He met Ming’s gaze, eyes curious, with no hint of maliciousness or gloating. Many of the elves afforded Ming a sympathetic, if patronizing nod. He looked back down.
The boy was gone.
He glanced around the clearing to find himself alone. The birds had stopped chirping. A chorus of chainmail jangled somewhere not far away.
CHAPTER 21:
Homecoming
Sword still held at the captain’s throat, Liang Yu stared at the princess. After claiming her allegiance, it looked like she had betrayed him. If that were the case, she’d join a long list of betrayals, which started with his own master and comrades thirty-three years before.
Unlike the others, she’d earn her comeuppance now. He pointed the spear tip at her. “What did the light signals say?”
For good measure, Little Song twisted her arm.
The princess yelped. Gritting through her teeth, she said, “I don’t know. I swear.” Her gaze shifted to the captain. Pleading?
“Your oaths aren’t worth much.” He used the spear to lift the pouch containing the imperial plaque from the fold of her robe. “You swore on this.”
She nodded. “To accept your protection.”
“You lied.”
Eyes narrowing, she shook her head. “I did not lie. I never said I knew the codes, just that I was surprised the Moquan didn’t.”
True enough. Or at least, a half-truth. Liang Yu pursed his lips. “Then why?”
“So you would bring me here. So I could get my message sent to the capital, and you wouldn’t kill anyone.”
Her voice sounded sincere, and there were no signs of lies in her expression. Then again, leaders regularly manipulated their underlings with pretty words. If she truly cared about the lives of anonymous soldiers…there was a way to test that. “I will kill someone now.” He pressed his sword into Captain Zhou’s neck.
Zhou went rigid.
“No!” She reached out with her free hand and struggled forward. Little Song wrenched her arm up, sending her to her knees with a squeak. “No, please. You don’t have to kill him. Captain Zhou, please tell us what your message was.” Her hand strayed to her belly, even though she had fallen to her knees.
The captain let out a long breath. “That this tower was commandeered by insurgents, led by someone claiming to be Princess Kaiya.” His pulse remained rapid beneath Liang Yu’s grip, no other physiological sign of a lie.
“And?” the princess said. “What was the response?”
“The palace commanded me to detain you until they arrive.”
Of course. The unprecedented use of a tower light. If Regent Liu believed it was the princess, he’d see her as a threat to his grandson. A cavalry unit could mobilize and reach the tower in less than an hour. Liang Yu pulled the captain to the edge and looked down. Below, the way station garrison formed up in defensive positions, maybe thirty men in all.
He could get out of this trap, but not with the princess, maybe not with Little Song. Not unless he let his
men fight against imperial soldiers. Toe-to-toe, his partisans wouldn’t stand a chance against regular soldiers. Better to live and fight another day. If only he’d thought that way in his youth, maybe the Surgeon and Beauty would still be alive.
The princess, still on her knees, bowed low. “Let the captain go. We gain nothing by killing him.”
Liang Yu shoved the captain toward the others and snapped his weapons back into staff form. “Little Song, surrender. Do your best to protect the princess.” With one last glance at her, he swept out of the door and into the stairwell.
Shocked murmurs erupted among the armored cavalrymen as Kaiya emerged from the tower. Hands folded in front of her, she straightened her carriage and swept her gaze over the hundreds of people. Light bauble lamps illuminated their faces and cast shadows over wide eyes and gaping mouths. Sent from the palace, they were here to take her into custody. Nonetheless, their expressions suggested they recognized her. Many looked down, as protocol demanded.
“Here are the insurgents we captured. The rest retreated back toward the city.” Captain Zhou prodded Song forward, hands bound in front of him. He then placed a hand at the small of her back and pressed her forward. “This one claimed to be Princess Kaiya.”
The cavalry commander dismounted from a black imperial stallion. Reaching back, he received a lamp from a lieutenant and held it up to her face.
Kaiya squared her shoulders and locked gazes with him.
He sank to his knee, fist to the ground, and bowed. “Dian-xia.”
Captain Zhou gasped. Then he shuffled back two steps and dropped to his knees. He pressed his forehead to the ground. “Forgive me, Dian-xia.”
“Rise,” she said. “There is nothing to forgive. You made the correct choice, but now we must warn the regent of the impending Teleri invasion. Release my aide.” She gestured toward Little Song.
“No.” The cavalry commander rose in a jingle of armor. “I am sorry, Dian-xia, but Regent Liu has ordered us to take you into custody.”
Taken into custody! Then what Fu had said was correct, Liu Yong saw her as a threat to his grandchild. And where was Fu? He’d disappeared down into the tower. With just one exit, he was certainly trapped inside…or was he? Jie had escaped from worse situations.
Was it for the better, or worse? Though an invaluable resource, Fu was a tenuous ally at best. A dangerous bedfellow. By the glint in his eyes, he'd been about to kill the captain. Her plea must have persuaded him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t do anything to Fang Weiyong.
“Hurry, then. We must return to the capital to warn the regent of the pending invasion.” She presented her hands, palm up, for the commander to bind.
He shook his head. “That is not necessary. You upheld the honor of our captain Xie Shimin, and for that we are grateful.”
Kaiya’s heart stirred from beneath the Tiger’s Eye. It was just over a year since Xie Shimin had tried to assassinate Tarkoth’s Prince Aelward. Such a short time, yet she was no longer the naïve girl who’d convinced Xie to reveal clues to the conspiracy.
“Are you well enough to ride?” The commander motioned to the horses.
Kaiya nodded.
The commander beckoned to an underling. “Bring the princess a mount.”
A soldier rode his horse forward and swung out of the saddle in front of her. He dropped to all fours and bowed. “Please, Dian-xia.”
Grabbing the pommel, she stepped onto the man’s back and pulled herself into the saddle. The smell of horse sent her stomach into rebellion. She covered her mouth. Curse this morning sickness. Would it be safe to ride? If only she’d paid more attention to Doctor Wu’s physiology lessons. She beckoned toward Song. “Allow my guard to accompany me.”
The commander nodded and waved for another horse. Even with his hands tied, Song swung into the saddle with nonchalant grace. Mounting up, the commander gazed out over his men and then gave a signal. With expert precision, the horsemen peeled off in ranks of four and trotted back toward the capital with rhythmic clops.
The ride jostled Kaiya in the saddle. She kept a hand over her belly. Hopefully, her babies would be all right despite the knocks and bumps. And what would happen when she faced Regent Liu? Would he believe her news of the impending Teleri invasion?
She’d find out soon enough. In ten minutes, they reached the city’s open north gate. Soldiers pounded on drums, the combination of low beats signaling the arrival of an Imperial Family member. In the distance, the same pattern repeated.
Even at this late hour, windows and doors opened as they rode by. Excited commoners whispered and pointed. Most bowed low. Several shouted out.
“Princess Kaiya has returned!”
“The princess!”
“Dian-xia.”
Before long, her return after half a year would be on everyone’s lips.
Had her emotions guided her, the sights and smells of the city might pique nostalgia. Now, the blooming plum blossoms did little to bring back memories of an innocent youth.
“What do the tower lights mean?” one woman yelled.
The crowds nodded and repeated the question over and over again, each time with more urgency. What had she done? Instigated mass panic? Of course, no one had ever seen the tower lights actually in use, and nobody knew what the signals meant.
The cavalrymen formed up around her, insulating her from the amassing cityfolk. Kaiya glanced over her shoulder. Where had Song disappeared to? She looked from side to side. Nowhere to be seen. Pointing and waving, some of the cavalry discussed his disappearance.
Another drumbeat echoed, its deep bass marking it as a palace drum. She gazed up to see the gates of Sun-Moon Palace up ahead.
They dismounted at the first moat. Flanked by a commander and several of his men, they crossed over the arching marble bridge. In the plaza on the other side, twenty imperial guards in blue robes and burnished breastplates dropped to a knee.
“Dian-xia,” they all shouted in unison.
The cavalrymen stepped back and sank down as well, leaving her halfway between the lines of soldiers, in the moons-cast shadows of the palace walls.
An unfamiliar imperial guard—the commander, by his insignia—rose and stepped forward. “Welcome back, Dian-xia. I am General Jin. Please accept my apologies that I must present you to the regent as a prisoner.”
A prisoner, in her own home. Her supposed bodyguard Song had also disappeared. When? Kaiya suppressed a wry smile. Another wave of nausea threatened, but she squared her shoulders. Eschewing feminine grace, she purposefully strode toward the open main gates. The imperial guards formed up behind her.
Keeping her attention forward, she asked the general, “Is there any news of my brother, the Tianzi?”
“No, Dian-xia. He has sequestered himself in the main keep, with no communication in or out. For all intents and purposes, he has abdicated. Liu Zhu is acting Tianzi until we can confirm the previous Tianzi’s fate.”
Kaiya stifled a sigh. Despite the well-organized ministries and official bureaucracy, the nation was paralyzed unless someone at the top gave those first orders. Now, that person was a baby boy.
She looked up, to where the nearly-full white moon, near-open blue moon, and waxing iridescent moon floated inexorably toward their conjunction.
A crier yelled out. “Princess Kaiya has returned.”
On the other side of the main gate, the moonlight bathed the central courtyard. Boasting their spring blooms, hundreds of espaliered fruit trees formed a path to the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Up a hundred and sixty-eight steps, tiring enough when she was not pregnant and wounded.
General Jin abruptly turned off the central path.
“Where are we going?” Kaiya stopped in her tracks, sending the imperial guards behind her into a rustling halt. There was no time to waste; Regent Liu had to hear the news of the Teleri invasion immediately.
The general faced her, though he kept his eyes averted. “The Hall of Bountiful Harvests, Dian-xia.”
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��Not an audience with Regent Liu?” She gestured toward the Hall of Supreme Harmony.
The general shook his head. “No, Dian-xia. The regent has already retired for the night.”
Gone to bed! Rebels in the South, an invasion to the North, and the regent was more concerned about his beauty sleep. “Where is the regent staying?” Her eyes strayed toward the residential section of the palace grounds. If the castle itself was barricaded, there would be no other place for him to stay.
General Jin extended his hand. “Please, Dian-xia. To the Hall of Bountiful Harvests.”
“I command you to take me to the regent.”
The general bowed. “I am sorry, Dian-xia. You may be an honored prisoner, but you are still a prisoner.”
Fire flared in her face before fizzling out under the Tiger’s Eye. Liu Yong considered her an adversary. Though why did they bother to bring her to the palace? Kaiya glared at General Jin, whose attention remained fixed on the ground. Even with a weapon, she was no match for him. Without the power of her voice, there was little she could do about her situation.
“Very well,” she said. “Please take me to the Hall of Bountiful Harvests.”
The general let out a long sigh and raised his head. His wrinkled brows looked nothing like the imperial guards’ ubiquitous stoicism. “Again, I am sorry, Dian-xia.” He extended his hand toward the hall.
With a nod, Kaiya resumed her stride. Apparently, Fu had told her the truth about one thing: the imperial guard were loyal to the Jade Throne, no matter who sat on it. She tilted her head and assessed General Jin out of the corner of her eye. Tentative, nothing like his predecessor. Tian’s grizzled cousin, General Zheng, would certainly have sided with her in this matter. Unfortunate that he, along with a hundred of the finest imperial guards, had perished in her escape from Iksuvius.
After three turns and a flight of marble steps to a veranda, they arrived at the Hall of Bountiful Harvests. Its blue-tiled eaves glistened in the light of the moons, reminiscent of so many nights spent here as a starstruck sixteen-year-old. This was where it all started, where she had met a dragon in man’s clothing. That magically-induced infatuation had been a prison of a different sort.