Another knock. "Ashlyn, come on."
Maybe not.
Ashlyn took a deep breath before submerging herself entirely. She squeezed her eyes shut as the cold rushed up to meet her, every sound intensified, her entire world enveloped in an icy prison.
If she could just stay underwater and stare at the backs of her eyelids all day, maybe she could find a way to regain some frigging trust in the human race again. Or she could drown while she was thinking about it. Either option was more appealing than talking to Skye right now.
Even with her eyes closed, Ashlyn could feel them stinging. It wasn't from the soap she knew was lingering in the water- she felt like crying again, except that there was nothing left in her to cry. She was just a hollow shell, some sick, shriveled replica of a human. Her limbs were heavy, her eyes dry and scratchy, and she doubted there would be relief anytime soon.
She laid there, arms folded across her chest, feeling the water tickling air bubbles at the end of her nose, her drifting hair eventually settling across her arms and stomach like a shield from the world above. It would be so easy just to stay here, breathe like she was breathing air instead of water, let herself go…
Let everything go…
Could she?
She remembered Vargo, the expression on his face just before he had kissed her. His electric eyes alert, focused completely on her, his lips curving slightly as he leaned closer. Ashlyn recalled the way her heartbeat had quickened, even though he had been going exactly with her plan- even though she'd known that he would be kissing her and had steeled herself against it.
Then she remembered that she'd puked afterwards.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, exhaling slowly and watching the different hues of red shift above her. It was quiet, surreal- and quite like an old painting that she'd seen in the Eastern City mansion, flashes of crimson overlapped by jagged shards of burgundy, every color some variation of red, each one slightly different from the next, the darkest shades almost black. Ashlyn had been fascinated by the painting the moment she'd laid eyes on it, and often wondered if it was still there.
Now she was seeing the painting in her bathwater, which really did not bode well for her mental state.
Ashlyn sat up, slicking her hair back from her face and shivering as the cool air hit her skin. Even if the water hadn't been cold, she would have felt the chill. Autumn was slowly turning its back on the island, and winter seasons in Toryn were amazingly unpleasant, even for someone who had grown up there.
She rested her forehead against the side of the metal tub, miserably staring at nothing at all. Her whole body hurt, ached, far worse than the agony in her ruined ankle, and it wasn't like muscle pains- no, those she could handle. This pain was like her life force had been sucked from her with an inhuman strength, leaving her helpless, hollow and withering where she stood…or where she lay. Whatever.
She took a deep breath, steeling herself against the emotion that racked her thoughts. This wasn't the way of a ninja. Self-pity was destructive in any situation, and this was no exception.
Another knock sounded at the door, and Ashlyn groaned. "Skye," she yelled, and her voice must have bounced off the water because it seemed to echo back at her much louder, "can't you take a hint? Buzz off!"
"It's not Skye, it's Tag," came the reply. "And I'm afraid you'll have to cut your bath short, Lady Li. Toryn is under attack."
Ashlyn sprang out of the tub and scrambled into her kimono. "Under attack?" she demanded, flinging open the door as she belted the sash around her waist.
Tag stood there with his hand up as if he were just about to knock on the door again. He was human now, mercifully bearing no resemblance to the flesh-eating monster who had tried to attack Ashlyn in her basement such a short time before.
Awkward much? Ashlyn thought, a knee-jerk reaction because you just couldn't watch somebody shape-shift into a monster and then treat them perfectly normally afterwards.
(Unless, of course, that somebody was Drake Lockhart.)
This wasn't Drake. This was her brother.
In a heartbeat, all the pain and heaviness that Ashlyn had been fighting for the past several hours came rushing back to hit her full-force. She almost staggered, physically staggered under the weight of her emotional burden. Tag's face, his eyes, so similar to her own and to her father's, danced before her like a mockery of all that she'd ever held dear.
This was her brother. Her brother. Something deep inside of her told Ashlyn that this was a good thing, the knowledge that she wasn't alone, that someone could share the pressures of being the child of Lord Li. But instead the knowledge turned into a series of sharp edges, cutting her heart to pieces and telling her, over and over again, You are impure. Elder Heir no longer. You are disgraced.
Ashlyn blinked and shook her head. Now was not the time.
Behind Tag stood Restlyn and Vargo, looking very out-of-place among the sparse furnishings in Ashlyn's house. Ashlyn noted briefly that Restlyn had pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, combing her over-styled bangs out and looking a little more like herself again instead of a bad Jenn clone.
Vargo, on the other hand, was making no secret of the fact that he was enjoying the not-so-modest way the kimono clung to Ashlyn's wet skin.
Scowling, Ashlyn folded her arms across her chest, stupidly attempting to maintain some modicum of dignity while water dripped down her chin. "Under attack by whom?" she asked Tag stiffly.
Tag shifted his weight nervously from one foot to the other. "I…do not know, my Lady. Kou will be able to tell you more. He requested that you meet him at the gates."
Ashlyn opened her mouth to reply, but Restlyn rushed forward suddenly. "What happened?" she exclaimed, falling to her knees in front of Ashlyn.
"What are you-" Ashlyn broke off in a yelp and slapped her hands against the doorjamb to keep herself from falling as the dark-haired martial artist grabbed Ashlyn's left foot and yanked it forward. She swallowed hard when she saw her blood-streaked ankle and the gaping wound that had replaced her tattoo.
"Ashlyn, this is down to the bone," Restlyn said, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear as she turned concerned eyes upward. "We need to have a doctor look at it or you could develop a serious infection."
"Not something we have time for right now," Vargo said. He stepped forward and stared down at the open wound, holding his cigarette up by his face as if shielding himself from the faint light that was streaming in through the open door. "That's a hell of a nasty scrape. What happened?"
For the first time in her life, Ashlyn Li was truly at a loss for words. She bit her lip, rifling frantically for an excuse. "I…um…" She glanced up at Tag, who stared back at her with his jaw set.
She could see in his eyes that he knew. Any Toryn would remember the clan traditions- it didn't take a genius to see what she had done. Ashlyn lifted her chin, unblinking, silently daring the younger ninja to defy her.
"Do you wish me to send a healer, Lady Li?" he asked at length. His voice was low, emotionless.
"Yes," Restlyn said.
"No," Ashlyn snapped, irritated. "I'll have plenty of time to see a healer later. For now I need to find Kou."
"At the gates," Tag repeated, stepping aside for her to pass (as if she would actually walk outside in a wet kimono, of all things) and nodding towards the door.
"I'll meet him there as soon as I'm dressed," Ashlyn retorted. She gave Vargo and Tag an aggravated look and walked past them, pretending not to notice that she was leaving wet footprints across her wood floors. Thankfully, the two men took the not-so-subtle hint and left her house, sliding the door shut behind them.
Ashlyn pawed through the contents of her drawers, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell that clung to her clothes. "I don't know what I expected," she said out loud, speaking as much to herself as to Restlyn. "You leave your wardrobe in a box for eight years and it's bound to smell a little rank."
"What happened to your ankle?" Restlyn asked.
>
Her hands clenched over a handful of underwear. "Nothing."
"Don't lie to me. You took off your clan tattoo. Why?"
Ashlyn glanced over at Restlyn, surprised at the venom in the other girl's voice, and saw that the dark-haired martial artist was leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. Beyond that sat the metal tub, which still held the blood-stained water Ashlyn had bathed in.
It was a bit incriminating, to say the least, and Restlyn did not look happy.
Ashlyn cleared her throat and resumed her search for decent clothing. It was unlikely that anything would still fit her after all these years, but she had nothing else.
"There are five Toryn bloodlines that are still considered pure," she said, holding up a white tank top that had always been oversized for her. "Marriages, couplings and births have been carefully recorded for hundreds of years. Monitored. Supervised. The Li is- was- one of those bloodlines, and each Li heir, including my father, has been tattooed with the sign of our house. On the left ankle."
Restlyn's eyes narrowed. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know."
"I'm sure Skye's told you. Tag and Kou are my brothers by blood," Ashlyn said, yanking out a pair of black shorts. She bunched the clothes together, only a little uncomfortable at having Restlyn watch her. "The line is no longer pure. The tattoo holds no significance except for the disgrace of my family."
"So you removed the tattoo, and with it all reminders of your father's indiscretions." Restlyn's face was sad, sympathetic. Ashlyn hated how understanding she could be.
"Nothing could make me forget," she said, hobbling back into the bathroom and putting a hand on the doorknob, "but I haven't been Li for a long time, anyway. This changes nothing, except for the shame my father has brought to his people."
"They're your people, too," Restlyn said gently, "And mine. Whether we want to admit it or not."
"I need to change," Ashlyn said. "Toryn is under attack, you know."
Restlyn sighed and stepped aside so Ashlyn could close the door. "I'll bandage your ankle before we leave," she said. "You don't want to get any mud in that gash before the healer looks at it."
Ashlyn quickly peeled off the wet kimono and hung it on the back of the door, hoping it would air-dry before she needed it again, and reluctantly pulled on the clothes she'd dug up. Everything was, of course, much too small, the bindings cutting unattractively across her breasts, her shorts stretched tight over her hips. She finger-combed her hair into a messy lump at the back of her head, picked up her shoes and pulled open the door again.
"Sit," Restlyn said, pointing at a mat in the corner. Ashlyn sat, and the dark-haired girl made quick work of a makeshift bandage over the wounded ankle, securing it tightly in place before Ashlyn pulled her sneakers on.
They slid the door shut behind them, and Ashlyn made her way towards the front gates, noting immediately that there were no sounds of battle, no clashing of swords or hissing of magic. The rain had not let up, however, and she knew from experience that the noise of war could be lost even in a faint drizzle.
As she strode across the grass, Restlyn beside her, Ashlyn couldn't help but notice that Toryn warriors were everywhere- against the walls, patrolling the bridges. Most of them were clustered together around Kou, who was standing on top of a large boulder, speaking. His words were indistinguishable from the surrounding noise. Ashlyn stopped in front of him and caught his gaze, feeling every eye in the city turn on her when Kou stepped down and came towards her.
She swallowed the words that sprang to her tongue when she saw Kou, forced her hatred into a manageable position at the back of her mind. Toryn came first. Personal vendettas could be settled later.
"My Lady," he said, stopping in front of her and inclining his head slightly. "We are under attack."
"So I'm told," Ashlyn said dryly. "Have you brought in the people from outside the gates?"
"I have, yes. They are…in your father's home, as you requested." His eyes asked her not to argue, at least not now. "I ask that you would allow me to escort you to the crow's nest atop the walls, Lady, so that we may better see our enemy."
He was trying to get her away from the rest of the troops, probably so that he could explain whatever was happening. Smart guy, she thought begrudgingly, and followed him to the shoddy wooden stairs that led them to the tops of the walls surrounding Toryn.
She glanced over at the soldiers as she climbed, trying to seem casual about it, and a hundred pairs of eyes stared back at her. Oh yeah, real casual. Among them she picked out Restlyn and Vargo. She didn't know where everyone else was, or even if anyone else had come. Would Drake have healed enough in the past few days to travel all the way to Toryn? It seemed doubtful, but he did have superhuman healing powers.
She ascended the last few steps and moved up next to Kou, who was staring out at the hills and plains surrounding the city, and beyond that, the craggy mountains that made up part of the island.
"What's the story?" she asked, careful to keep her voice low and level.
"They're out there," he answered, not facing her. "You won't be able to see them, but I know they're out there."
"Who?"
"The army who follows the man I spoke of earlier."
It took her a few seconds of digging around in her not-so-clear memory to realize what he was talking about. "The man with the other shift stanes?"
"Yes."
"Great." She blew out a breath. "And they're going to attack, right?"
"Yes."
"How is it that you know they're out there and I can't even see them?"
"The effects of the shift magic don't completely abandon their master," he said, tapping a finger to his temple. "I can sense them."
"I should try that out," Ashlyn said ruefully. She knew she could never stomach that kind of magic.
He glanced at her. "We need to speak somewhere, Ashlyn. Privately."
"Okay." Not back at her house- she hadn't emptied the bathwater and she didn't want to have to explain that, although Tag would probably blurt it all out to Kou soon anyway. Not at her father's house, either, because the refugees were stowed there, safely beyond the reach of this army that Kou was so afraid of. "Is it something that'll upset me?"
"Yes."
Aw, man. She really didn't feel up to this. "Can it wait?" she asked hopefully.
"No."
Damn. "Enough with the cryptic answers, already," she grumbled. "I'd rather you just tell me here, and I promise I'll do my best to hold it together."
"We could return to your home-"
"Just tell me!" Ashlyn snapped, throwing her hands up. "I'm so sick of secrets and lies. A week ago, Kou, I thought Devlyn was the enemy. I thought he was waging war against the rest of the world, and my friends were trying to fight him off. Then I meet you, and I find out you're Devlyn, which you still haven't completely explained to me, and suddenly everything's all hunky-dory and you're not my enemy, even though you attacked January Harbor and lied to me and almost killed one of my best friends. Oh, and one more thing- you just so happen to be my half-brother!"
She took a deep breath, staring into his sharp black eyes. "So whatever you're about to throw at me now, whatever you're going to floor me with or break me with or destroy me with, just tell me and get it over with, because I'm tired of lies. I'm tired of games. And if this whole twisted web doesn't get sorted out soon, I'm going to start beating it out of people, starting with you."
She hadn't meant to end her mini-exposition with a threat, but Ashlyn didn't regret it, and Kou didn't seem too offended by it, either. "Fine," he said calmly. "I told you that the shift stanes began to control the evolved generations of Angels. What I didn't tell you is that shift does not simply control its user's actions; it eventually completely incapacitates the user's mind." He raised his chin slightly, looking as if he'd much rather be talking about something else, but continued, "The more you use the magic, the less human you become. The more insane you become."
"That explains a lot about you," Ashlyn said before she could stop herself, then grimaced. "Sorry…lame joke."
Kou didn't appear to have heard her. "The man out there, who wields the magic, is beyond help- at least as far as I can determine," he told her. "I've tried and tried to reason with him, but he is intent on taking over Toryn- and the rest of Kresmir."
"So we kill him. Kill him, destroy the stanes, go back to our happy little…" Ashlyn trailed off, puzzle pieces suddenly clicking together in her head. Kou was making a big deal out of telling her who this mysterious shape-shifter guy was.
Obviously he thought it was going to upset her quite a bit.
Who…?
The last piece fell into place.
Oh, no.
Oh, no.
"Oh crap," she said glumly. "I think I know what you're going to tell me."
Kou wet his lips. "I know you've been through a lot in the past week-"
"Not any more than I can handle." That was arrogance talking.
He sounded sincere when he spoke. "He was the one who ordered an attack on January Harbor. I did everything he asked. I killed the ambassador from January. He's my father, and…I couldn't…I couldn't defy him…at first. Later, I tried to stop him, Ashlyn-"
"No one could ever stop Dad from doing what he wanted," she said, her voice flat. Her stomach lurched. "Oh, Gods, I think I'm going to be sick," she muttered, clutching at the railing in front of her. She couldn't look weak in front of the soldiers. She couldn't.
"I wish there was an easier way to tell you this," Kou said, standing stiffly beside her, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.
"Don't worry about it," Ashlyn ground out, hanging onto the railing like it was the only thing keeping her upright. "I'm fine. I'm fine." If only she could make herself believe it.
"We could capture him," Kou suggested. "See if there's any way to rehabilitate him from this…sickness."
"Right," Ashlyn said faintly. The sudden meaning of his words hit her solidly. There were so many questions to be answered, and yet right now all she could think was that she might never see her father as himself- as her dad- ever again.
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