Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  An illusionist; no wonder. The dark-skinned Aksumi practiced all kinds of sorcery, including the mass production of the ubiquitous light baubles. But, “Whatever for?”

  “An emergency. If you ever needed a decoy. Just like tonight, though I don’t imagine the Emperor had this sort of circumstance in mind.” She—he—stared at the sky.

  It definitely wasn’t my body language…was it? “This will never work. It doesn’t look like me, and it certainly doesn’t sound like me.”

  Kai-Long slipped the marble into its pouch, and his form snapped back to normal. “My plan takes all that into account. Here’s what we will do…”

  Nine

  Not the Brightest Moment

  Kneeling at the far end of the dais in the Golden Dragon Room, I listened to the music ensemble that played in the background. Guzheng, pipa, erhu, ruan guitar, recorder; all mingled in choreographed harmony, all technically perfect.

  Though the sound didn’t carry the same emotions as my masters’ playing, it resonated through rice wine-fueled conversation among the hereditary lords and ladies. Dressed in their finest gowns and robes, they all sat on the imported sablewood floors around low tables, enjoying delicacies prepared by the finest chefs in the realm.

  Each place was set with some of my favorite dishes, though Cousin Kai-Long’s embarrassing plan had killed my appetite: a bowl of royal red rice, a low-rimmed bowl with jade asparagus and immortal mushrooms sautéed with royal-ox butter, a small saucer of soy sauce-braised golden pork belly cubes, a small plate of fried three-inch long whitefish, a medium-sized plate of chopped crispy quail, and a lacquer bowl of shark fin soup. A small cup for rice wine sat on the right side, next to a pair of chopsticks. The Imperial Family’s symbol of a blue five-clawed dragon decorated each white porcelain dish.

  Insides twisting, I looked through the sliding doors. Painted with dark golden dragons flying among the clouds, they stood open to the garden beyond, thankfully allowing cool air off Sun-Moon Lake to percolate in and alleviate the stifling air. Facing north, they did not provide a view of the iridescent moon, so I would have to rely on Kai-Long to keep time. Going along with his potentially humiliating plan might tarnish the hard-to-maintain façade of Perfect Princess.

  And I had been far from perfect today. Surprisingly enough, the Minister of Household Affairs hadn’t approached me about my transgressions, nor had Father summoned me regarding the betrothal to General Lu. I shifted in my seat. Certainly, one of the witnesses would have reported everything by now.

  Or perhaps they’d been too busy preparing for this reception to deal with a naughty sixteen-year-old. Tomorrow might be another story, but for now, Second Brother Kai-Wu and his soon-to-be bride took center stage.

  Everyone took turns approaching the dais where my family ate from small individual tables. Second Brother, never one for ceremony, slouched beside his bride-to-be. Wu Yanli, the daughter of Tai-Ming Lord Wu of Zhenjing Province, might have been a porcelain doll with her cold elegance. She almost rivaled Xiulan in beauty, and rumor had it she had enchanted Kai-Wu with the magic of her tea ceremony.

  Young Lord Chen Qing, a Yu-Ming heir to a county in Jiangzhou Province, approached with a dumb smile on his face and a wine saucer in hand. He dropped to his knee. “Your Highness, congratulations on your new sister-in-law. Let us toast.” His eyes swept to the porcelain decanter at my side.

  The one filled with water, part of Cousin Kai-Long’s plan. I nodded. Then, I filled Young Lord Chen’s saucer and set the decanter down. He then took it and filled my saucer.

  I took a dainty sip and my eyes widened. Hot and spicy, it stung my throat. I covered my cough. That was not water! There must’ve been a mistake. And now, an unprecedented line of young lords had formed up behind Chen Qing, all with feral grins.

  Oh no. I craned my neck. Hopefully, Kai-Long was out there somewhere. Or a servant, who could swap out the decanter…but for what? Nobody knew it was supposed to be water. The next young man, Young Lord Fen of Fenggu Province, already knelt before me, filling my saucer with rice wine.

  The alcohol burned my mouth, and showed no signs of abating even after several more young lords toasted me. I was to have feigned drunkenness and retired early, but now, it looked like my poor acting skills might not be needed.

  My stomach heaved. Head spinning, I covered my mouth, and luckily, nothing came up. Eyes rounding like the wine saucer, Young Lord Zi, the seventh to serve me, scuttled back several steps. Humiliating for sure, made worse by actually being drunk.

  Still, no one could blame me. It would appear just as Kai-Long had planned: a bunch of potential young suitors trying to make an impression on me, but gone too far. At a reception like this, even a prince or princess was fair game, and Father could forgive a sixteen-year-old for not holding her wine.

  Kai-Long appeared at my side, hand on my elbow. “Easy, Your Highness. Come, let me help you.” Releasing me, he walked through the crowd gathering in front of Eldest Brother Kai-Guo and Xiulan, and bowed before Father at the center of the dais.

  Father was engaged in discussion with a middle-aged minister, his brow furrowed in an uncommon show of public emotion. The minister shook his head and held up two fingers. Father actually frowned, but then held up a hand to the minister and turned to Kai-Long. Kai-Long leaned in and whispered into Father’s ear.

  Turning and meeting my gaze, Father nodded. Permission to leave, with Cousin Kai-Long, his favorite nephew. Subtle enough to save face. With a bow of apology to the waiting young men, I rose.

  And wobbled. My head whirled like a cyclone. Again, a firm hand grasped my arm.

  Kai-Long leaned in and whispered, “You are doing great.”

  Great? If only he knew it was no act. Placing each foot in front of the other felt like a toddler’s first steps. “Who is that speaking with the Emperor?”

  “Deputy Yan. One of his most trusted advisors.”

  I looked back to where Father still conferred with this Deputy Yan. “What were they talking about?”

  Kai-Long shrugged. “I’m not sure. They quieted as soon as I came over. Now come along.”

  With his support, I made it to the garden, all under the watchful eye of imperial guards. Guanyin’s Eye hung low in the night sky. At its largest this year, it seemed to scrutinize my foolishness.

  Cold air filled my lungs, clearing my head, if only a little. “That wasn’t water!” I spun and shoved him with two hands, and would’ve knocked myself over if he hadn’t caught me.

  “No!” He shook his head. “The servant must have made a mistake. It’s okay though, the plan will still work.”

  Plan? Right. To see gorgeous Prince Hardeep and try the Dragon Scale Lute. It would certainly improve what had become a mortifying evening.

  He draped a silken shawl over my shoulders, and then beckoned a servant. “Bring us some hot tea.” He then guided me along the courtyard paths, our feet crunching in the white pebbles. Where were we? No matter how familiar the inner castle was, everything appeared the same through my bleary vision and spinning head. Up ahead, a small octagonal pagoda overlooked the moat between the inner castle and the main palace.

  Holding my hand, he helped me up the steps. Inside I plopped into a seat, the marble cold on my behind. I scanned the far end of the path, where two imperial guards kept a respectful distance.

  “Are you all right?” Kai-Long asked.

  “I think so.” No. With heat flaring in my cheeks, I fanned my face with a hand.

  He leaned back and stretched his arms over the pagoda’s half-wall. “I want you to bend over, so the guards can’t see you, take off the shawl, and pretend to dry heave. Loudly. Stay down, then give the shawl and your outer robe to her.” His head tilted down, to the side.

  I jerked my head in the direction he indicated, the sudden motion making my brain twist and flip.

  A palace maid was hunched over, below the line of sight of anyone outside the pagoda. The dark partially shrouded her face, but she bore an
uncanny resemblance to me. Probably from the illusion bauble.

  Taking off my outer robe in front of a man, cousin or not, wasn’t part of the plan. Dry heaves weren’t either, and the way my stomach twisted, things might not be particularly dry. “Who is she?”

  “Someone who owes me a favor.” Kai-Long chuckled. “I know a lot about many of the handmaidens and palace servants.”

  Curse the buzzing in my head. Why did this feel wrong?

  “Hurry,” Kai-Long said. “When the servant comes with the tea, you will swap places.”

  “How did you come up with this plan?”

  Kai-Long grinned. “I’ve snuck a few ladies out this way in the past. More than a few. And it will work even better than ever this time with the magic.” He held out his palm. Cradled in a silk kerchief was a marble, similar to the magical light baubles that lit the palace and probably every other house in the world. “Don’t touch it directly. Not yet.”

  It must be another illusion bauble. I took up the kerchief, nearly knocking it out of his hand. “What will this one make me look like?”

  “Just a plain girl. Trust me, everything will be all right. Nobody is going to get in trouble.”

  There’d been a little too much magic for one day already. I took a deep breath. The cool air did little to clear the alcohol-induced haze. I glanced toward the imperial guards, just shadows in the distance. The servant approached, holding a tray with a teacup and kettle in trembling hands. No, it would be okay. Kai-Long had done this many times.

  “All right.” I motioned for Kai-Long to turn his back. When he did, I gritted my teeth, leaned over, and did my best approximation of dry heaves. I ripped off the shawl and shrugged out of the robe, then passed them to the girl, who stood up, hand over her mouth, coughing.

  “Good,” Kai-Long whispered, patting the girl on the back. “Cough a little.”

  As the girl complied, the other servant, now cloaked against the chill, stepped into the pagoda with tea. She poured it into a cup and set the cup and kettle on the table. How wonderful tea would be right now! Kai-Long placed himself in the guards’ line of sight and motioned me to my feet.

  When I stood, the second servant dropped to all fours. Kai-Long pulled the cloak off and draped it over my shoulders. The girl who now resembled me reached for the tea and took a sip. It happened so fast, a blur to my addled head.

  “Now,” Kai-Long whispered to me, “Thank me and tell me to take my leave while you rest here.”

  I fought the urge to bow my head, lest the guards see the switch. “Thank you, Cousin Kai-Long. I am feeling a little better now. I am just going to sit for a while. You may take your leave.”

  “It has been my honor.” Kai-Long bowed, then pulled the hood over my head and placed a hand on my shoulder. He whispered again, “I am going to report to your imperial guards. In about ten minutes, meet me on the other side of the bridge. Remember, the bauble must touch your bare skin at all times. Try to walk in a straight line, with the body language of a servant.”

  Whatever that meant. I watched as he left and walked up the path to where my guards waited.

  “Princess Kaiya is feeling better,” he told them. “The cool air is doing her well, and I think after sitting for a while with several cups of tea, she will be fine.” With a nod of his head, he disappeared around a hedge.

  I looked down at the girl pretending to be me. Who was she beneath the illusion? And had we crossed paths in the palace before? She must be new. Not to mention, her posture appeared much too stiff, the motions too jerky as she reached for the teacup. The tea smelled good, and it probably would help allay the throbbing in my head. Still, a servant would never dare drink after a princess. With the guards watching, thinking me to be the servant, it would ruin the illusion to drink the tea.

  “Now, Your Highness,” the girl whispered, lips trembling.

  I stood. With deliberate care, I took one step after another. As I approached the bridge over the moat, I glanced in the direction of the guards. Their dark shapes didn’t move. Heavens, this plan was actually working.

  On the other side, Cousin Kai-Long waited.

  We hurried through the palace grounds, his pull on my hand forcing a quick pace. The twists and turns along the corridors between the buildings would have all been familiar with a clear head, but they might as well have been a maze tonight. Light from the three moons made it even more disorienting.

  At last, we came to the central plaza formed by the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the Hall of Pure Melody, and the imperial archives. Aksumi light baubles hung in strings from the dozens of espaliered fruit trees, casting hypnotic shadows in all directions. Despite the particularly large crowd of palanquin bearers, palace guards, and provincial soldiers and staff, the courtyard still seemed vast. Hundreds of eyes fell on us as we neared Kai-Long’s Nanling provincial contingent, congregated near the main gates.

  “Young Lord Peng,” someone cried out. Soldiers snapped to attention.

  Stopping in place, I peered back at Kai-Long. Even through my muddled head, everything was now clear: this wasn’t right. If it was just me escaping the palace with no help, the risks barely outweighed the rewards. Now, it involved several people, many likely blackmailed. If this plan failed, any accessory to this ill-advised adventure would face severe punishment. I gripped Kai-Long’s sleeve. “No, we can’t do this.”

  “It’s too late. If we head back now, it will draw too much attention. Don’t worry.”

  I looked at his entourage. The porters prepared the two-person palanquin.

  A palanquin, no… The narrow confines, the stuffiness… I skidded to a halt and nearly tripped over my gown. My head spun and chest tightened. I squeezed Kai-Long’s elbow. “We can walk.”

  He faced me, the light baubles casting webby shadows over his grinning face. “You won’t be spotted this way.”

  I fixated on the palanquin…just one. Come to think of it, “Where is your family? I didn’t see them at the reception.”

  “The horse-relay messengers said their ship was delayed. They are expected in Jiangkou harbor tomorrow morning.”

  His villa chamberlain shuffled over and bowed. “Leaving so soon, Young Lord? With a…friend, I see.”

  Kai-Long nodded. “Yes. I have already paid my respects to Prince Kai-Wu, and my…friend…wished to depart early.”

  “To the Floating World, then?”

  My heart jumped into my throat. The Floating World, where men’s dreams took flight, was so far away, it would take half the night to get there. And though it boasted a variety of entertainments from exotic music to theater, the most common diversion was…that. It certainly wasn’t a place for a woman of high standing. I clutched Kai-Long’s arm and shook my head.

  He leaned over. “Don’t worry. We are headed in that direction, but we won’t go in. Come, lower your head.” He stood by the palanquin door, blocking the chamberlain’s sight of me.

  With a sigh, I ducked in. The walls closed in. Head in a fog, my pulse raced. This was such a bad idea. Cousin Kai-Long dipped into the palanquin and settled across from me. I sucked in a last breath of the outside air and the coolness filled my lungs. The door snapped shut.

  I pressed on Tian’s pebble, firm and resolute beneath my sash. Everything would be all right. Handsome Hardeep’s guidance would help me learn a long-lost art, and with it, I could save a beleaguered people. It would benefit Cathay as well. Father would understand. Someday. Maybe.

  The palanquin pitched upward, threatening to send my stomach into rebellion. I wouldn’t be saving anyone tonight. As the men fell into a rhythm, the ride smoothed. From the sounds, the palace’s front gates opened and a throng of guards marched out. For the first time in my life, I was outside of the palace, unscripted, with no imperial guard protection.

  Kai-Long smiled at me. “Is everything okay now?”

  I gulped. “I think so.”

  “We will have you back before anyone knows you are gone.” He reached across and clasped
my hand.

  And when would that be? It wasn’t like the decoy could sit and drink tea until dawn. I squirmed. “Heavens, this is a horrible idea. What do the girls who wait in the pagodas usually do?”

  “Not to worry. Eventually, when no one is watching, they just head back to their own quarters.”

  “Someone is always watching me!” Everything was so clear now, even if alcohol burned in my veins. “She might look like me, but the poor girl doesn’t know the secret imperial language or the codes that will get her into the Imperial Family’s sleeping quarters.” How hadn’t I seen it before?

  And Kai-Long was supposed to be smart. His face paled now. “What? You need to use the imperial tongue to get in? This is a terrible idea. If we are caught…oh, Heavens. We have to turn back now.” He slid open the palanquin window. “Men, stop. I forgot something at the palace.”

  The palanquin lurched to a stop, sending my stomach into a flop. Only with supreme effort did I keep everything down. Still, any hope of meeting Hardeep was now dashed. My shoulders slumped.

  Outside, swords rasped from sheathes.

  “Identify yourself,” someone said.

  Ten

  The Dragon Scale Lute

  Head buzzing with rice wine, I listened as boots clopped and weapons rasped outside the tight confines of the palanquin. I squeezed my fists tight. This debacle couldn’t get much worse. I didn’t even have a dagger to defend myself.

  Neither did Kai-Long. Still, he snapped open the door and jumped out. “Stay here.”

  No, that wasn’t an option. Someone had to take responsibility for this mess. I crawled on all fours out of the palanquin, without any semblance of imperial grace. At least the hooded cloak and illusionist’s bauble hid my identity. Legs quavering from alcohol and sitting, I staggered to my feet.