We’re not on Shiara, but it’s still something we need to remember. Everything about Ryogo has been trouble so far. If we’re going to get back to Shiara in time to stop Varan from leveling Ryogo, I need to avoid making things more complicated.
By the time we reach Uraita, sunlight has broken through the interlaced branches of the trees. It illuminates a place I never could’ve imagined.
“This is where Varan was born?” Rai’s skepticism is louder than her words.
I… I really can’t blame her. Even with Osshi’s warning, this isn’t what I was expecting. The buildings are spread out, and all of them are plain, unpainted wood. Few people are outside; their clothes are ragged and too thin for the chill in the air. The streets are nothing more than uneven dirt. It looks and smells like a place on the verge of death.
“This place used to be beautiful.” Tsua puts her hand on a tree like she needs it for balance. “We were small, but we always had enough for ourselves. This isn’t…”
“The house Varan and I grew up in was there.” Chio points toward a large gap between two other buildings.
Statues of Varan, Chio, Tsua, and Suzu stand where the house used to be, each one wrapped in stone chains. They stand on a wide pedestal that raises them several feet off the ground. Words are carved into that base, but I can’t read them from here. It doesn’t matter; staring at proof of so much feels like trying to breathe on the highest point of a mountain.
I thought I’d already accepted this, that the leaders we grew up idolizing not only as immortals but as gatekeepers to the paradise of Ryogo were neither. But I’m standing in Ryogo, alive, and I’m staring at stone versions of Itagami’s two most powerful leaders—who are two of Ryogo’s worst criminals.
The lie of who Varan is has never been clearer or more painful than it is right now. My hands shake no matter how I try to make them stop.
“What does it say?” Chio asks Tessen.
Slowly, Tessen reads the inscription. “‘By the will of the Kaisubeh, and for the crimes of two sons and two daughters of Uraita, this village will suffer for a thousand years. Remember the lesson well, for it is the responsibility of all to ensure no child of Uraita or Ryogo ever repeats the mistakes of their ancestors.’”
Tsua closes her eyes. “The so-called mercy of the Chonochi shunkyus at work. I hope all of them are rotting in the blackness of Kaijuko.”
I can’t help wishing the same on the former ruling family of Ryogo. In Itagami, our law prescribes exactly the opposite: the actions of one cannot, and should not, be paid for by the suffering of many.
Apparently that wasn’t a lesson Varan learned from his homeland.
“Is there anything within Uraita worth searching for?” Tyrroh asks. When Chio slowly shakes his head, Tyrroh takes a step east. “Then we should go.”
He’s right. The longer we’re here, the more likely it is we’ll be spotted. And I want to get away from the statues and the ruined village.
Swallowing hard, I tear my eyes away from the images of the people who ripped my brother away from me. I run my thumb along the cord on my wrist and look deeper into the trees.
How many lives has Varan destroyed? I’ve been so focused on what happened to Yorri and the others trapped on Imaku; I never considered what had happened here. An entire village is suffering because of him.
There had been a war, too. Varan incited a rebellion, and thousands died in those battles. Several hundred more died in the aftermath. Even after the bobasu were exiled, Varan caused destruction. Dozens died when the ship carrying the bobasu crashed on Shiara, and after that…
Chio and Tsua haven’t mentioned much about their early days on Shiara, and I haven’t asked, but Varan must’ve spent those years taking control of an island that was already inhabited. It couldn’t have been clean. Or smooth. Or painless. People must’ve died. It has to be part of the reason Itagami’s been at war with the other Shiaran clans for so long.
How can one person be the source of so much destruction?
The others catch up with me, but none of them talk. Not even Tessen. Maybe I’m not the only one shaken by Uraita.
The silence holds until we approach another dead stretch of land and Etaro mutters, “Ugh. The smell is back.”
“It never left, trust me,” Tessen says. “And this isn’t just a smell. The desosa is different, too. Can you feel it, Khya? Its like, once it leaves the land, it’s trying to escape this place as fast as it can.”
He’s right. I didn’t notice earlier because desosa always rises from growing things, but this is too fast. The energy rising out of these fields is moving as though it’s being propelled. Like arrows from bows.
“They can’t feel the desosa, but they’re still messing with it?” I don’t understand that.
“Nothing about Ryogan magic makes sense.” Tessen reaches out, his fingers brushing my wrist just above the red cord. “Maybe that’s why you can’t solve your puzzle.”
I can’t tell if he’s taunting, teasing, or serious, so I pretend it’s the last and shrug. “Maybe, but I’ll figure it out. If Varan can do it, so can I.”
“Varan also lied to us for ages.” Rai flicks the air next to my cheek. “I’d rather you didn’t pick up all of his skills and habits, Nyshin-pa.”
I clench my jaw against a protest on the promotion. “You’ve spent almost every hour of every day with me for weeks now. How can I possibly lie to you about anything?”
“I don’t know, but don’t you dare take that as a challenge,” Rai warns, a glint of humor in her large eyes.
“Tsst!” Tessen’s quick hiss slices through and stops the group. Osshi stumbles forward two steps before realizing why we’ve halted. Then Tessen curses. “Forget being quiet. Move!”
I run beside him through the trees. “What’s wrong?”
“Someone in the village spotted us when we stopped.”
“Blood and rot,” Sanii mutters as we run.
“It was a tyatsu guard passing through Uraita, and he saw Osshi, not Chio.” He pushes faster. “I heard him. He used a garakyu to call for a squad. He saw Osshi isn’t alone. If we don’t get out before they arrive, someone will figure out who Osshi brought home with him.”
Exhaustion weighs me down. Hiking those mountains was a strain after weeks of forced inactivity. Thankfully, I only have to hold on for a little bit longer—we’re not too far from the camp.
When we burst into the clearing, it’s obvious Lo’a’s warning was serious. The camp is packed, and the ukaiahana’lona are being latched to the front of the wagons. More than one of the hanaeuu we’la maninaio look up when we appear, and many seem to brace for trouble.
“I told you not to bring danger back here, Osshi Shagakusa,” Lo’a calls.
“Osshi was spotted,” Tyrroh calls back. “If you’re willing to take us, we’d be grateful. If not, leave here fast.”
“My debt to you is paid, Osshi Shagakusa, but…” Lo’a’s hands are on her broad hips, and her eyes are on me. “Well, Khya is another story.”
“I…” She doesn’t owe me anything, but we need her help. None of us have slept since the night before last. “Please. At least take us out of their range. Once we’re rested, we’ll leave if you ask us to.”
Her golden-brown eyes are unreadable, but then she nods.
“Thank you.” It’s the first time I’ve seen her make a decision without looking to someone else, and I’m grateful. I bow my head as we hurry to our wagon, exhaustion-tinged-relief making me giddy.
We post a watch, and I raise wards around the caravan. Then, as most of the others settle in to get some sleep, Tyrroh, Osshi, Sanii, the andofume, and I gather around the small table with the stone box in the center.
Tsua carefully removes the lid and sets it aside, then she lifts each item and lays it on the table. Five crystals of varying colors. Two leather pouches. Six rolled papers, all discolored and torn at the edges. A circular piece of silver metal with something painted on the surface.
The
last item is a book. It’s thick and bound with black leather with white writing on the cover, but Tsua opens it too quickly for me to be certain I read the words right. It looked like the symbols Chio pointed out carved into the mountain—child of the Kaisubeh. Tsua seems to be looking for something specific inside, turning pages with cautious speed. Near the end, she stops, her eyes scanning across the page several times in quick succession.
“I was right. It’s a susuji.” Tsua carefully flattens the page.
Sanii’s large eyes widen as ey leans in. “Really?”
“What is that?” I don’t remember learning about those.
“A type of potion, which is a completely different way of creating magic,” Sanii says.
Chio nods. “Potions combine certain plants and other special elements. Mixed over flames and infused with desosa, those elements create specific effects, like bringing on sleep or erasing memories, and there are names for each type. A susuji is a potion that heals.”
I peer at the page Tsua’s staring at and try to make sense of what’s written there. It’s an odd concept, that cooking things like a stew can somehow create magic, but Osshi is nodding and none of the andofume disagree. “So this is how Varan created immortality?”
I hold my breath, hoping we found an answer, hoping…until Chio shakes his head.
“It doesn’t make sense.” Chio taps the table next to the open stone box. “From everything I know about the plants and how he combined them, this should be an incredibly powerful susuji, but I don’t see how this could possibly give someone the lifespan we’ve had.”
Blood and rot. I exhale and link my fingers behind my neck. Should’ve known from moment one. I should’ve known as soon as Chio had told us about the possibility of finding Varan’s notes that it wouldn’t be that easy.
I lean in and open my mouth to ask about one of the items listed, but Zonna shakes his head and points toward the crowded beds. “This is their area of experience, not yours. Get some rest now, and we’ll give you more details when you don’t look like you’re about to fall asleep with your eyes open.”
No matter how much I want to protest, Zonna’s right. It’s been too long since I slept, my vision is beginning to blur. I relent, tugging Sanii’s sleeve to pull em with me. Reluctantly, ey follows, climbing to the top bed to squeeze in while I slide into the space Tessen saved for me on the lower bed.
“Paradise is a lot colder than I imagined it would be,” Tessen murmurs in my ear as he wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him.
“One more thing Varan lied about. You shouldn’t be surprised,” I whisper back. “Assume everything he ever told us is a lie until something proves otherwise. That’s what I’m doing.”
Or trying to do. Sometimes I don’t even understand my own beliefs until I’m facing something that shatters them. Like the moment I saw Uraita.
“Right now, all I care about is the cold.” His fingers trace patterns on my back; I barely feel them through the layers of cloth. “Will you keep me warm?”
I laugh, surprised and a little pleased, especially since I thought he might still be upset with me about my work on the niadagu spell. “You’re ridiculous, Nyshin-ten. If you wanted someone to keep you warm, you should’ve attached yourself to Rai or Nairo before they found partners.”
“Fire burns.” Smiling, he nudges the edge of my nose with his own. “You can warm me up fine without it.”
“Now?” I raise my eyebrows. “I didn’t think you were one for public displays.”
“Me neither,” Rai mutters behind him without lifting her head or opening her eyes.
Tessen rolls his eyes. “I never mentioned displaying anything.” He lifts his chin and presses a kiss to my forehead. “Get some sleep, Khya. I’ll keep you warm this time.”
“Good.” I close my eyes and burrow between his neck and the mattress. “I have a feeling that we’ll be stuck in the cold a lot longer than any of us wants to be.”
…
I have absolutely no idea where we are when we wake up, but I hear voices calling out in Ryogan, the squawks and cries of animals, and the familiar sounds of a blacksmith in the distance.
“Are we in a city?” I carefully edge out of the bed. Tessen and Etaro are still sleeping.
“Near one.” Rai is at the window, peering out through the small crack between the thick curtains. “Tirodo. We needed supplies.”
“Is it a good idea to go where the people looking for us live?” I lean against the wall near Rai and listen to the cacophony outside. “Which should include any city in Ryogo.”
Rai shrugs. “That’s why we’re stuck in here.”
At least, since so many are still sleeping, it doesn’t feel crowded yet. It will later, but now only Rai, Tsua, Chio, Zonna, and Tyrroh are awake. The elders are sitting at the table, the stone box and its contents spread out between them. Their focus is on the book.
“Hopefully Lo’a still thinks she owes Khya help, because finding the supplies we need won’t be easy,” Tsua is saying as I sit. “Some of this was hard to find in our day. I can’t imagine it’s gotten any easier since then.”
“We’ll have to ask Lo’a once we can leave this wooden cage,” Chio says, glaring at the walls. Then he sighs and looks at me. “Or really, you’ll have to ask Lo’a. Then, once we figure out how to collect this, we need a place safe enough to stay for a while so we can try to recreate the susuji. With or without the hanaeuu.”
“I’ll ask about both as soon as we stop somewhere else,” I promise. But disappointment sits in my stomach like a rock. “You haven’t learned anything else since we went to sleep?”
“There’s something, but it’s not good.” Zonna points in a direction I think might be south. “Before she left, Lo’a told us that the storms Kazu sailed us out of are closing in.”
Of course. Because for every step forward we take, something else has to push us back. And the storms I’m sure Varan caused are still chasing us. At this point, I don’t know if there’s anywhere in the world we could go where they won’t eventually reach. They’re so persistent it’s hard to convince myself they’re not capable of stalking us like teegras on the hunt.
I’m not afraid of the tyatsu, but thinking about those persistent, worsening storms is enough to raise bumps on my skin. From the way Zonna’s expression shifts, sympathy filling his eyes, I don’t think I’m doing a good job keeping those fears off my face.
“How long do we have?” Rai asks as she joins us at the table.
“Two days,” Osshi says. “Maybe three. And that kind of a storm here? It’ll be extremely hard to get what you need before it’s too dangerous to travel.”
“It’ll cause the same problems for the tyatsu,” Tyrroh points out. “If we can get what we need and make it somewhere safe, the storms might help us create a gap between us and them.”
There’s too much if in that, especially when it’s easier for things to go wrong than right. And we only landed a week ago, yet we’ve already had a near-miss with a tyatsu squad and a brush with a scout. At this rate, fighting and killing a squad of Ryogans is going to become unavoidable in days. And every extra hour we have to spend evading them is an hour wasted, one that we could’ve been using to find a way to save their people and mine.
But I guess all we can really do is plan and prepare. “What are our priorities?”
Tsua and Chio exchange a glance before Chio counts off the points on his fingers. “Materials for the susuji, a safe place to wait out the storms, and distance between us and the tyatsu. In that order.”
“But the first will also be the hardest.” Tsua taps the book. “I’m not sure how much of this we’ll be able to find in one place.”
“And splitting up will be more dangerous than it’s worth,” Tyrroh says.
“You really think Lo’a’s people will be willing to find some of this for us?” I ask. “Even dressed like Ryogans, only you three and Osshi can pass for locals, but you either need to stay
hidden or”—I look at Zonna—“you barely know more about Ryogo than we do.”
“I guess we’re lucky Lo’a feels like she owes you a favor or twenty, aren’t we?” Tsua smiles, but the expression is so strained I wonder if she’s slept at all. “Otherwise I think we’d have to resort to sneaking and stealing to get what we need.”
“We should do that for everything,” Rai says. “Might save time.”
“Let’s keep thievery as our backup plan,” Chio says dryly. “The point is to not draw attention, remember? It’ll arouse suspicions fast if a long list of rare plants and magical ingredients suddenly goes missing, and they used to have ways of trapping and disarming mages. I don’t know how well those would work on any of us, but I’d rather not find out. The longer we can keep them from learning about our skills with magic the better.”
Tsua and Chio unroll a map of northern Ryogo, talking about plants and cities and so many other things that mean almost nothing to me. I stay and listen closely, trying to learn as much as I can about the ingredients we need to find, the places we need to visit, and the susuji we need to recreate.
I push myself to grasp the spells and the concepts of potions, and so it’s hard to keep from getting angry at myself when Sanii understands it all so much faster than I do. Ey seems to be absorbing Ryogan magical theory as easily as I understood wards; if ey could master the manipulation of the desosa the same way, ey’d probably have already figured out the secrets of the niadagu cords, too.
Only one of us needs to be able to break Yorri’s cords, I remind myself. If ey can master it before you, fine. Good. Wanting to be the person who frees him is dangerously selfish.
I repeat the words to myself all night.
They help so much less than I want them to.
Chapter
Seven
In two days, thanks to several shortcuts almost too narrow and overgrown for the wagons to travel, we manage to collect most of the items on Varan’s list. Or the hanaeuu we’la maninaio do. We spend almost all our time inside the wagon, waiting. I waste a lot of energy pretending I’m not counting each day, each hour, and each minute we’ve been away from Shiara or trying to estimate how long it’ll be before we can go back.
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