by JC Kang
The Scorpion gasped, clutching his hand, which bent at a strange angle. He fared better than his companion, who lay in a smoldering heap near the entrance.
Dhananad cringed, deciding once and for all he would never tempt the Altivorc King again. He turned on his heel and left, his entourage scurrying after him.
Ambassador Piros watched Prince Dhananad storm out of the room. Once his angry footsteps had faded out of the embassy, Piros motioned for his men to deal with the bodies of the five slain altivorcs and the Golden Scorpion. “Why did you goad the prince like that? Look at this mess...and your own men.”
The Altivorc King laughed. “My soldiers will lay their lives down for me without question. It was a necessary measure, to remove that royal fool from the picture. Tomorrow, you will send word to Madura to demand Dhananad’s recall. It will make our plans much easier.”
“But the damage is already done.” Lord Benhan threw his hands up. “The Ayuri Confederation and the Paladins will now be keeping a scrutinizing eye on Madura, and by extension, the rest of us.”
Piros hid his scoff. Benhan had much more to worry about because of Levastya’s proximity to the Paladins.
“As the Cathayi say, we must seek opportunity in adversity,” the Altivorc King said. “When the timing is right—maybe not this decade, even— we shall incite an incident that implicates Madura. All of the mutual protection pacts the princess arranged will draw the Paladins’ efforts in that direction. That will give your sultan the perfect opening to move into Ayuri lands.”
Piros doubted the Altivorc King had Levastya’s best interests in mind, and wondered what the altivorcs had to gain. “Madura has always been the weak link in our alliance. Sacrificing them for the sake of creating other opportunities will be of no consequence.”
“And they will not go down easily,” the King said. “Contrary to your taunts, the Golden Scorpions are a formidable force that will keep the Paladins occupied. It will provide a chance for you to attack Cathay and for us to capture Ayudra.”
Piros chewed on the inside of his cheek. From a human perspective, Ayudra was a strategic port, controlling commerce into the Ayuri heartland. Yet to the altivorcs, who cared little for trade, it was a rock full of ruins. Perhaps it had to do with the King’s obsession with the pyramids, the ancient monuments to their departed gods. “Avarax once attacked Ayudra. We should send an envoy to see if he might join our cause.”
The Altivorc King burst out laughing. “Avarax is a shadow of his former self, still weakened by the Cathayi girl’s song from the War of Ancient Gods. He can’t use his breath. When he attacked Ayudra thirty-two years ago, all he wanted was the Lotus Crystal, and he bluffed to get it.”
Piros nodded slowly, wrapping his head around the idea. Trickery was such a foreign concept to him, but apparently one that worked.
The Altivorc King yawned. “In any case, even if Avarax were a real threat, he serves only his own cause, which has minimal benefit to us. Let him rule over and expand the Dragonlands. It will keep the Paladins busy. Our goals would be better served if he never sets claw on Ayudra again. And my instincts tell me, this ploy to get Princess Kaiya to sing is another attempt to strengthen himself.”
CHAPTER 44:
Pieces of a Puzzle
The four pages taunted Kaiya from where they lay neatly on her bed in the Crystal Citadel’s guest chambers. She could see the notes, hear them in her mind, and yet the underlying power escaped her. The City of Palimur, along with all of its hundred thousand inhabitants, depended on her grasping the music’s secrets.
Her languid legs protested as she traipsed back from the dresser to the bed for another look. After she woke from Rumiya’s magic, her energy guttered in her belly. Fog shrouded her mind. It seemed like dwarf anvils hung from her shoulders. She looked down to confirm that it was, indeed, her own slim arms there.
Ayana leaned back in the plush chair. “You should sleep, especially after the way the wizard drained you. Maybe you will see the answers clearly when you are rested.”
The door whispered open behind her, and Jie’s soft but distinct footsteps treaded in. Ayana didn’t seem to notice the half-elf’s arrival, reassuring Kaiya that at least her hearing still served her well, even when the rest of her body did not.
“Dian-xia,” Jie said, her voice strained. Her forehead furrowed. “As you commanded, I checked on the men. They are recovering well. The imperial guards are in no condition to protect you, but still wish to stand watch outside your chambers.”
Kaiya turned and held her Insolent Retainer with her gaze. “While I appreciate their dedication, I would be happier if all my guards focused more on their own recovery.”
The message seemed lost on Jie, who just sucked on her lower lip— a telltale sign the half-elf was thinking something she wouldn’t say.
Unless prompted. “Speak your mind.”
“Perhaps your guards’ princess should heed her own words. She is having dinner with a rake of a prince tomorrow, after all.”
Kaiya sighed. “I will sleep when Meixi returns with the magic mirror. I want to speak with Lord Xu about magic.”
“I am pretty well-versed in magic; perhaps I can answer your question.” Ayana’s wounded pout belonged on someone a hundredth her age.
With a contrite nod, Kaiya smiled. “It would save me from the embarrassment of groveling before Lord Xu, thank you. I was considering something. When I invoke a command through my voice, short wording tires me. Yet when I lulled Prince Dhananad with a two-hour dance, I felt energized. Why would that be?”
Ayana put a finger to her chin. “I am afraid that my grasp of Artistic Magic is poor at best. Perhaps your voice is similar to Shallow Magic, which is quick to invoke but draining; while the dance is like Deep Magic, time-consuming and ritualistic, but less tiring. My friend you met in the woods might have been able to tell you more.”
Jie sucked her lower lip again. “In the woods? What friend?”
A musical voice, along with gold hair and eyes of molten purple, flashed through Kaiya’s mind, and she swore she could smell evergreen needles. The fleeting memory disappeared before she could grasp it. She shrugged.
Meixi burst into the room before Jie could complain, embracing the wrapped-up magic mirror as if it were her first lover. She bowed before Kaiya, proffering the bundle in two hands.
At last. Her body screaming for rest, Kaiya unwound the silk wrappings and found her reverse reflection looking back at her. “Lord Xu, I have questions about Avarax and Artistic Magic.”
Ayana crowded in behind her, an expression of wonderment showing on the reflection of her face. “What is this?”
How could she not know? Kaiya turned her heavy head back. “A magic mirror.”
“I have never seen one so...small and portable.” Ayana’s usually wise and knowing voice held a child’s fascination.
To think that something could amaze even the old elf, who must’ve seen countless magical artifacts. Kaiya looked down to find her reverse reflection still staring back at her. She sighed and flung herself onto the soft bed, her legs dangling off the side. “Lord Xu keeps his own schedule.”
Jie snorted. She slunk over to the side and peered at the pages of music. Her eyes bobbed up and down. “Dian-xia, can you summon the image of the book, to the torn-out pages?”
“Book?” Ayana asked excitedly.
“I guess he will appear if he decides to answer.” With another tired exhale, Kaiya brushed her hand over the mirror’s cool surface. The book shimmered into view. With several rapid brushes that made her tired wrist ache, she came to the ripped-out pages and lifted the mirror up.
Jie held the first sheet up to the image. The story of Yanyan’s mastery continued from the picture on one half of the mirror to the sheet. “See? The tear line is close, but not exact.”
“What?” Kaiya sat up as quickly as her complaining body would allow and looked. Jie was right: the tear lined up, but not exactly. A gasp escaped her. She turne
d to Ayana. “What do you know of Yanyan’s story?”
Ayana shook her head. “Not much more than you, I assume. It occurred some seven centuries before I was born, and our written records emphasize the heroism of our own people during the War of Ancient Gods. Our Sun God Koralas sent his Archangel Aralas down from the heavens to teach the remnants of our people how to invoke the Wrath of Koralas, a ritual spell that would turn the air to fire and kill all animal life.”
“Wouldn’t that kill the elves, as well?” Kaiya shuddered at the idea of mass genocide.
Ayana shook her head. “During the years it took for our ancestors to sing the spell, Aralas travelled the width and breadth of Tivaralan, planting Trees of Light. Our people were to gather under the canopies and remain protected when the magic took effect.”
Jie plopped down in a chair. “What does this have to do with Yanyan?”
“In his journeys, he encountered humans. Not wanting to murder guiltless sentient beings, he called off the ritual spell. Instead, he bade our people to teach humans different forms of magic, according to their ethnic affinities. The most talented of the Cathayi, Yanyan, went to sing Avarax to sleep so he could not ally himself with the Tivari.”
Kaiya nodded. “Our own official history comes from several oral accounts told in the small states that made up modern-day Cathay before the first unification of the Yu Dynasty. To us, Yanyan was Aralas’ lover.”
Ayana’s coughing objection rivaled Jie’s eye-rolling protest in drama.
Kaiya peered at the old elf. “Do you not believe an elf can love a human?”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I meant.” Ayana waved both hands defensively. “Aralas’ daughter became the first ruler of Aerilysta, the Queendom of the Moon. His son was the first sovereign of Aramysta, the Kingdom of the Sun. We call them high elves because of the divine ichor flowing in their veins. Yet Aralas’, um, interest in human women has appeared in a handful of those descendants.”
Jie rolled her eyes. Again. By now, she likely knew what the inside of her skull looked like. “I don’t see how any of this has to do with Avarax, or the fact that the pages Girish gave you don’t line up.”
Kaiya twirled a lock of her hair. What had Lord Xu said when he gave her the mirror? “When did he say Doctor Wu obtained the book?”
“Thirty-two years ago.” Jie shrugged.
“A lot happened thirty-two years ago,” Kaiya thought out loud. “He said it was retrieved by the Tianzi’s agents. Could that be the Moquan? Do you know if they might have been involved?”
The blood drained from Jie’s face. It was hard to imagine anything surprising her. “I...it did not occur to me until now. There was a mission—famous among our clan because of the secrecy surrounding it, even now—by three of the most promising young masters: the Architect, the Surgeon, and the Beauty. Besides taking the young Prince Dhananad as a hostage, they retrieved a secret artifact. Maybe the book?”
So the Moquan had taken Prince Dhananad hostage. Perhaps it explained the man’s quirks. Kaiya set the thought to the side, returning to more pressing questions. “And the missing parts of the book are in either Avarax’s or Rumiya’s possession.”
“Grand Vizier Rumiya disappeared from history right around that time,” Jie said, “only reappearing once over the next three decades: two years ago, to meet with you.”
Ayana scratched her chin. “Rumiya says he wants Avarax to sleep again. He planted a seed in you so that you would be able to do it, and now produces the music that can accomplish that goal.”
Kaiya’s cheeks burned at the mention of planting seeds, since apparently, that was all anyone wanted of her.
“But he gave you a fake song.” Jie held up the pages and poked them.
“What does this music do, then?” When she’d sung the first three notes, the energy of the audience chamber crackled with power.
Ayana stared at the pages. “Most importantly, what will the music do to Avarax?”
“It doesn’t matter. I don’t even have the energy to invoke the power of the song.”
“In four days,” Ayana said, “the Blue Moon’s Eye is larger and more open than at any other time this year. The resonance of the world also wells up on the hill of the Temple of Shakti. That should help you.”
Kaiya sighed. “That must be why he insisted on four days. He has already waited thirty-two years, I don’t see why—”
“Thirty-two years!” Jie jumped to her feet. “Avarax woke up thirty-two years ago. He went to the Pyramid on Ayudra to steal the Lotus Crystal, which magnifies the energy of the world.”
All of the details began to make sense, coming together like a web of interconnections. Thirty-two years ago, Rumiya acquired the book of music for Avarax, who was looking to magnify his power. Kaiya’s voice droned slow and hollow in her own ears. “Rumiya wants to make Avarax stronger.”
Jie’s brows furrowed. “Why would he want that? What does Rumiya get in return? Besides maybe a trip down a dragon’s gullet?”
The real missing pages of the book likely held the answers. However, it was unlikely she would see Rumiya—Girish—again, let alone convince him to give her the real song. Kaiya was on her own, with only four days to figure out those answers and get to Palimur in time to save the city and its people.
CHAPTER 45:
Checkmate
Prince Dhananad held his chin high as he sauntered through the ranks of Paladins guarding the entrance of Cathayi embassy. Even if they knew he was behind the attack on the princess, they would not dare touch him with the proverbial flag of diplomacy fluttering above his head. Two of his Golden Scorpions marched behind him. He imagined them grinning beneath their masks, their very presence a taunt to the Paladin Order that abandoned them.
His third Scorpion, the pretty girl, whatever her name was, walked at his side, shedding her maroon kurta and mask for a sari. Her beauty would make Princess Kaiya jealous.
Because no matter what the Altivorc King and his yes-men said, Dhananad would win the princess over. The dinner tonight would help her remember his charm and seal their betrothal.
Cathayi Ambassador Ling greeted him with hands pressed together and guided him through the first house into an adjacent building. Servants knelt beside the double doors, on which two long scrolls hung.
Though the wavy script might have been gibberish, it felt as if someone had lodged a spear of ice down his spine when he looked at it. His knees wobbled and hands trembled. When the doors opened, he had to gasp for air.
He turned slightly to see one of his Scorpions through the corner of his eye, likewise quivering. With a deep breath, he stepped into an anteroom.
Princess Kaiya waited there, the long sleeves of her translucent outer gown hanging to the floor. Jade jewels pinned up her hair. The pink inner gown, stitched with white plum flowers, exposed her delicate collarbones, while accentuating the perfect divot at the base of her neck. It just barely hinted at the softness of her bust. Even her austere choli from a week before had revealed more.
The impertinent little maid stood by her side, looking no thinner from the punishment the princess had promised. She locked eyes with his companion, and both reached for their hips. He shifted his head from one girl to another, enjoying the duel of their razor-sharp gazes.
The princess bent slightly at her waist, and Dhananad stole a glance at the luscious valley between her breasts.
“Greetings, Prince Dhananad,” she said, voice as placid as the Shallowsea. “Please be my guest tonight, in appreciation for your hosting me a week ago.”
Dhananad clasped his hands together. “Thank you for your hospitality, My Orchid. I hope that after what promises to be a delectable Cathayi meal, we can conclude our discussion from last time.”
She raised a perfect eyebrow, playing coy confusion. Such a cute girl. “Of course. I also invited some friends to share dinner with us, since it would be a waste to share our best cuisine with just one person. I hope you do not mind.”
&nbs
p; Friends? It was supposed to be a private dinner. Dhananad kept his expression jovial nonetheless. “Certainly not! It is always enjoyable to share a meal with many. Though I would have far rather had you all to myself.” For the first several months. After that, perhaps other beauties could join them.
She smiled demurely and motioned for him to follow as she glided through the doors. He kept his eyes fixed on the elegant sashay of her hips.
His Scorpion drew in a sharp breath.
Dhananad looked up and raked his gaze across the room to find friendly grins on the faces of those he would not consider friends.
Fire raged in his face, but he remained silent as Princess Kaiya gestured toward a rectangle of embroidered silk cushions, each with a small table in front of it. The maharaja and queen from each of the three largest Ayuri Confederation states sat on one side, and three Paladin elders in white kurtas on the other. Most galling was the presence of the exiled old maharaja of Ankira and his plump queen near the head.
Princess Kaiya guided him to a cushion across from the Ankirans, next to her at the head of the table. Was it a place of honor in their culture? Or subservience?
He hesitantly sat. His own girl Scorpion stared at the floor, turning her head so her cascading hair screened her face from the Paladins. They, in turn, whispered among themselves.
The princess had such poor taste in guests. Things couldn’t get much more awkward. With a wave of her open hand, she motioned for food to be served. Servants hurried in and out, bringing in trays filled with aromatic foods on exquisitely thin white porcelain dishes.
She gestured toward the first dish: a soup, made of a fish stock and soybean paste, with bean curd cubes and seaweeds, garnished with chopped green onions. “This simple soup was a favorite of my ancestor, Wang Xinchang, who founded Cathay as you know it today. He served this on the occasion of his first great alliance with the elf Lord Xu on Haikou Island, sealing their security pact. Tonight, our cook used seaweed from the Shallowsea around which Madura and the Ayuri Confederation lie.”