The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom

by Dickson, H. Leighton

  “In the sky?”

  “Yes. I don’t know what it is but it’s very strange and sharp.”

  Solomon looked up, studied the great expanse of clouds over their heads. “It’s new?”

  “Yes. Just started.”

  Solomon frowned now.

  “Hey,” called Fallon. “Good morning, Solomon!”

  He waved to her. “And good morning to you too, sweetness.”

  Fallon Waterford-Grey staggered from the side of the ship across its wooden deck. The wind whipped at her clothing, revealing her tummy and the white bump in her middle. It was fortunate that she wore men’s tunics, for her belly had begun to swell out of the confines of her vest. He caught her arms, helped steady her on unsteady feet.

  “How you feeling, honey?”

  “I’d love some honey,” she said. “And a pear but maybe not a pineapple. All this fish is making me sick.”

  “Sorry to hear it. I’m boiling water in the galley. We’ll make some tea, alright?”

  “Great. Tea fixes everything.” She smiled at him before turning her emerald eyes on her husband. “Have you tried this morning?”

  “No,” he lied, deliberating turning his gaze back to the wheel.

  “You said you’d try.”

  “They don’t do anything.”

  “They will. You know they will.”

  “I know nothing of the sort.”

  “But Sireth said—”

  “Just because Sireth benAramis can do things with the water and the fire, doesn’t mean I can.”

  “You are an Elemental, Kerris. That’s what he said. I know ‘cause I was there.”

  The grey lion set his jaw but said nothing. Solomon looked from tigress to lion and back again.

  “The stones? Is that what you’re talking about?”

  Fallon nodded. “I know he can do it.”

  “Well I don’t.” Kerris rolled his eyes, kept his hands firmly on the wheel. “I am not, nor ever shall be, a monk.”

  “There’s an image,” grinned the Ancestor. “What about this ‘metal in the sky’, then?”

  “Metal in the sky?” Fallon cocked her head, her stripes making worried lines across her forehead. “Like Max metal?”

  “A bit. Different. Sharp.” Kerris looked up, wrinkled his nose. “Hot.”

  “Wow,” said Fallon.

  “Hot?” Solomon looked up as well, turned in circles studying the skies, the low grey clouds. “How hot?”

  “Like fire?” asked Fallon.

  “Yes,” said Kerris. “Fire and Metal together. Like Kirin and me. Destructive, really.”

  “Like that?” And she pointed to the horizon where a speck was gleaming. “That looks very hot.”

  Together, the three of them moved to the railing.

  “Damn,” said Solomon. “We have to get off this ship.”

  “What?” she asked. “Why?”

  “Get off now!”

  “But—”

  She yelped as he grabbed her by the shoulders, shoving her backwards so that she toppled tip over tail into the dark swell that was the ocean. He reached for Kerris but the lion scrambled out of his grip. “Kerris! You too!

  “No!”

  “Now!”

  “But I need—”

  “—to get off this ship! C’mon!”

  And suddenly Solomon leapt over the railing, hitting the rolling water with a splash.

  Kerris peered over the side, spied a bobbing striped head spitting out great mouthfuls of water. He looked up. The speck was a ball now, billowing orange flame and white smoke and so close he could almost feel the heat from it. He turned and bolted for the steps that led to the cabin, sailed down in one go, hit the floor running. The katanah and obi were on his berth, the low narrow bunk he had shared with his wife and he snatched them both before scrambling back up to the deck. He could hear it now, the metal-fire, roaring like Imperial cannons and the air was furious at being pushed out of the way by this strange new element. The light was red hot, blinding him, but he knew these decks well and he raced for the rail, leaping high into the angry air as the metal-fire crashed to the cabin behind him. There was a boom and a roar, yes—very much like Imperial cannons, and he was lifted even higher now by a wall of air. Air, usually his friend, now howling with fury, scorching his back, his tail, his boots, then the water, rushing up to give him a bone-crushing hug, and then nothing for some time afterwards.

  ***

  “Nothing?” Kirin sat forward. “What do you mean, nothing? Kerris? What happened?”

  The grey lion smiled and leaned back on his elbows, raised the tiny cup in his hand as in a toast.

  “Later, Kirin. It’s a long story and we have many nights.”

  Kirin shook his head. Kerris was famous for his stories and now with this—the most important story of the age—he was bound to play it out, milk it for all its dramatic, theatrical glory.

  They were reclining now around a low black table in the Friendship Room, Kirin, Kerris, Fallon, Captain Windsor-Chan and the Ambassadors – Theophillus Bertrand Anyang Han and Bo Fujihara. Fujihara was a small man, about the size of Chancellor Ho, with a fair pelt and pink face and small dark eyes, bright and quick. He wore blue-dyed short kimonoh with leather-wrapped legs and a sash that wrapped him round the waist and shoulders. He also sported a ceremonial sword across his back, several large rings on his fingers and like most of his people, beads woven into his braided hair. Kirin had met him twice before, in this very room, and knew that he was an intelligent fellow dedicated to the pursuit of peace between their kingdoms. It was odd to see him here with an army.

  There was a tug on his queue and he winced, looked around to see a kitten pulling herself up with tiny claws, batting at his hair. He smiled at her. She flattened her ears and hissed.

  “Lada,” grinned Kerris. “Leave your uncle alone.”

  “It looks really good,” said Fallon and she leaned forward, eyes curious. She was growing from gangly girl into a woman of exotic beauty, with Chi’Chen beads woven into her wild hair. “Your head, I mean. ‘Cause last time I saw it, it was pretty bad.”

  “It has healed,” he said.

  “May I?”

  Kirin grit his teeth as Windsor-Chan and Han exchanged glances. Cats, he thought. Proud and vain, all of us.

  “Of course,” and he looked at the smooth wood of the floor as she ran her hands over the top of his bare head.

  “Wow, it’s really healed well, hasn’t it? Almost like you did it on purpose, you know? Like you shaved it or something?”

  “Like a regular sham’Rai,” grinned Kerris again and he sipped his sakeh. “Shogun-General Wynegarde-Grey. Won’t mummie be pleased.”

  “Are those the Fangs?” asked Fallon. “The Blood and Jade Fangs?”

  “Yes.”

  “I read about them in the University.”

  “By the Kingdom, Kirin, you’ve landed on your feet. Yours is the Luck now. First, as always.”

  “And you’ve journeyed across the world with a wife and an Ancestor. If that’s not destiny, Kerris—”

  “It is destiny, brother. The Tao wheel rejoices in us for a change.”

  Kirin regarded his brother. It was hard to tell with Kerris whether he was being hurtful or simply truthful. He seemed happy enough. With such a wife and kittens, he should be the happiest man in all the Kingdom.

  “It is an honour to meet you once again,” said Bo Fujihara with a smile, and Kirin lifted his eyes to study the ambassador. “You have not changed so much, Shogun-sama. The Fangs suit you.”

  “Mine is the honour, sidi,” replied Kirin. “Although I never could have imagined you traveling with my brother and his family.”

  “They are most intriguing, Shogun-sama. Especially this little Lada. Chi’Chen children are not like this.”

  Kirin winced again as the kitten tugged on his hair. “Most feline children are not, either…”

  Fallon laughed and swept the little girl up in her arms. />
  “Soladad is the bad one, isn’t she? She reminds me of Ursa. Bad and feisty and tough as a yak.”

  The kitten snuggled into her mother’s arms, threw a look back at her uncle and hissed.

  “But our Kirin, on the other hand…”

  The second kitten, a little boy with great blue-green eyes, pressed his face into his father’s chest, hiding.

  “Kirin is the thoughtful one, aren’t you my son?” Kerris ran a hand over the boy’s head, trying to smooth the unruly grey hair. “He’s very smart, like his mother. But quieter.”

  “Hey!” laughed Fallon. “I am quiet. I’m quiet and thoughtful and peaceful. I’m Wood, remember.”

  “Oh yes. You are as quiet as a tree, my love.”

  She sat back, leaning into him and the kittens climbed between them, mewling and batting each other and Kirin felt a rush of emotion, bitter and sweet and sad. He reined it in, took a deep breath.

  “So why are you here, Kerris? Like this, with your children and a Chi’Chen army? How did you get here and what do you want?”

  Kerris and Bo exchanged glances, Kerris drained the sakeh from his flask and sat up, kittens sliding from his chest into his lap, their tiny claws snagging on the fabric as they went.

  “There are Ancestors, Kirin,” he began. “Many Ancestors and they are dangerous.”

  “We thought as much.”

  “No, we didn’t think enough.” He turned and motioned to one of the snow monkey guards. In diplomatic circles, they were called “the snow guard” or simply “the snow.” The man stepped forward, dropped a large satchel wrapped in black cloth and gold cording. Kerris rolled up to his knees, began to unwrap both cloth and cord.

  “Oh mother,” sighed the tigress. “I hate that thing.”

  She scooped the kittens into her arms and moved toward the windows, began to rock them, one on each hip.

  With a flourish, Kerris folded the cloth away to reveal a strange instrument of tarnished metal. It was long, cylindrical and seemed to have many interlocking parts. Kirin sat forward.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “Breath of the MAIDEN,” said Kerris. “A weapon, like a cannon. And this is only one of them. They have so many different kinds. We brought back what we could.”

  Kirin reached for the weapon, picked it up with his gloved hands. Felt the weight of it, the dark chi. It was not even remotely like a sword and he found he didn’t know how to hold it.

  “Here,” said Kerris. “Like this.”

  And he took it from his brother, hiked it onto his shoulder and aimed the thing toward one of the large panes of flat glass.

  “Out of the way, luv,” he called and the tigress nodded, tucking her kittens into her chest. She moved to stand behind them all.

  There was a strange hum then a flash of light and the guards, Imperial and Snow, leapt back, utterly breaching their training. A circle glowed in the center of the glass for a long moment, before turning smoky, then white, then crumbling away entirely. Left was a large hole open to the night sky and a sharp, blue scent on the wind.

  The kittens began to wail and Kirin found his heart thudding wildly in his chest.

  “Breath of the MAIDEN,” said Kerris again as he laid the weapon back in its cloth, bound it with the gold cord and handed it over to the snow guard. He looked at Ambassador Han.

  “Sorry about the glass.”

  The ambassador was speechless.

  Now Kerris turned to his brother.

  “We need to be ready, Kirin, for when they come. And not just us. We won’t be enough to stop them. All our swords and bows, even our cannons won’t be enough to chase them off. They will want what we have and they will take it.” He glanced at Fujihara, then back again. “No, the only thing that will stop them will be unity. All the Kingdoms presenting a united front against them.”

  Fujihara nodded, laid a bound scroll onto the black table. “The Capuchin Council has approved this request, Shogun-sama, as has Emperor Watanabe. We have commissioned all men between the ages of twelve and seventy to join the army for training, and any women that have either the interest or the skill. This is a petition from Lha’Lhasa for the Empress, requesting that your people do the same.”

  Kirin stared at the scroll for some time, before looking to Ambassador Han. “You know of this request?”

  The Ambassador bowed so that his forehead touched the table. “I do, Shogun-sama. With orange and white fires burning, it seemed prudent not to waste time on protocol.”

  Kirin rose to his feet, moved to the windows where snow was beginning to swirl in through the hole in the glass. He could see the dark mountains through it, the lanterns from the embassy and the lights of the army across the river. Could smell the snow now, and the sharp bite of very cold water. He clasped his hands behind his back.

  “But why an army? Surely, this request could have been delivered by Ambassador Fujihara himself, even without our beloved Kaidan.” He turned now to face them. “This army is not the might of the eastern empire, I know it is not. And it is not a show of force, for that is no way to secure an alliance. What is your plan, Kerris? I am here as the representative of the Empress. Tell me now or I will not consider any of this.”

  Kerris grinned, rose to his feet as well. He bowed a formal bow to his brother and for some reason it set Kirin’s teeth on edge.

  “You’re right, of course, Kirin. The army is not here as a show of force or a bargaining tool or anything of the sort. As I said, we need all the Kingdoms united.” He inclined his head. “All of them.”

  Kirin frowned. His brother was saying something but it was eluding him. He looked first to Fujihara. The man raised his pale brows, nodded grimly. He looked to Ambassador Han, then Captain Windsor-Chan but they had no answer. Finally, he looked to the tigress, both kittens dozing now as she rocked from side to side. She tried to smile and her emerald eyes were singing songs of compassion and understanding and courage and pain.

  And he knew.

  “No,” he said.

  “Kirin,” Kerris started.

  “No,” he growled. “Not now. Not ever.”

  “We need them, Kirin.”

  He strode to the rice paper door, slid it open past the imperial guards and the snow guards, turned his body for barely a moment.

  “There will never be peace with the kingdom of dogs,” he growled. “Not while I am alive.”

  The rap of his tail left marks in the floor and he turned and left the Friendship Room in silence.

  ***

  Once again, Setse was weeping.

  The ceiling of the little gar shone with frost, branches and stars glittering through the frozen silks. He had fallen asleep while holding her but had awoken to her sobs—soft and quiet and heartbreaking. The witch was gone. She had slipped out during the night, left her baby curled in Setse’s arms and it was a very strange sensation for him to be this close to one of the Enemy. It was making an odd growling sound in its throat, but it seemed contented and it rose and fell with the baby’s breathing. It was a soothing counterpoint to Setse’s weeping.

  “Oh Rani,” Setse moaned. “I should have let them take me. I should have gone with them. I was so weak…”

  He hushed her, stroked her hair. He didn’t know what she was referring to, didn’t know what else to do. She was inconsolable.

  “Now everything will be gone because I was afraid. We can go back. We must go back.”

  “Setse, please. Hush now. There’s nothing to be done.”

  “I’m so sorry, Rani…”

  “And what about your Ulaan Baator? Don’t you want to meet him?”

  She lifted her eyes to his.

  “Ulaan Baator?”

  “Yes, you said he was coming, didn’t you? You said he’d change things, make things right, remember?”

  He had no idea what he was saying to her but it just seemed wise to use her own words. She was still such a puzzle and growing worse.

  She nodded, sniffed, nodded agai
n. “Yes. Yes he will. People die all the time, isn’t that right, Rani?”

  “Yes.” He lowered his head, exhausted. “Yes they do…”

  She nodded once more, sat up and wiped her cheeks. “Death is not a bad thing.”

  “Only a bad death is a bad thing. That’s what grandfather used to say.”

  “Grandfather.” She smiled through her tears. “The Blue Wolf.”

  “Yes,” he said. “He was the Blue Wolf of Karan’Uurt, respected by Khans and kings alike.”

  “Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat.”

  “Setse…”

  “Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat,” she whispered. “Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat. Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat.”

  And she began to rock.

  He sighed, stroked her hair and waited for the witch to return.

  ***

  Kerris slid the rice paper door closed and sighed. The room was quiet, the light just beginning to break into the single pane of glass that overlooked the gorge. It could easily have been brighter had not the shadows of the mountains blocked everything. Earth was a belligerent ally now. It had been a hard-won truce.

  Fallon was standing at the window. He could see her in the dark, a mere silhouette with her back to him, arms wrapped around her ribs. He crossed the floor to stand behind her, slipped his hands around her waist. Even after twins, there was nothing to her. A gust of wind could tip her over.

  He kissed her neck and she shuddered. Weeping, he knew, or trying not to.

  “Well?” she asked, her voice quiet. The kittens were sleeping, a jumble of arms, legs and tails on a cushion by the wall.

  “He won’t talk to me,” said Kerris. “He won’t even open the door.”

  She nodded. “It’s still hard on him. I can tell.”

  “Well, regardless, he’ll need to go back to Pol’Lhasa. You’ll all go with him. It’s not terribly far, two days at most.”

  “Kerris…” she moaned and turned in his arms, cupped his face in her lightning white hands. “Two thousand Chi’Chen soldiers against even a single Legion might have a chance, but against the entire Lower Kingdom?”

  “We’re not starting a war.”

  “You won’t be coming back.”