The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  Khine broke into a grin. He urged his horse across a narrow part of the river, where scattered rocks formed a loose bridge. I didn’t need a second bidding and tugged at the reins to follow him, the third horse snorting behind me.

  The bank led around the waterfall and into a crack in the cave, where a small ledge jutted over the pool, forming a platform. We found a spot where thick roots grew all across the ceiling and splotches of sunlight spread over the damp moss. As I worked to tie the horses to the roots, Khine stripped down to his loincloth and waded into the water first. He gave a small yelp.

  “Cold?” I asked.

  He wiped water from his beard and swam up to me. The pool was bright blue, a sharp contrast to the red rocks around it. “You stay there,” he said. “You’ll hate it.”

  “Really,” I drawled.

  “Really. It’s not for queens.” He leaned over the ledge with his elbows, water dripping down his tanned skin.

  I gazed at the pool. It was tempting, particularly after days of hard trudging through heat and dust. I dipped my toe in the water and then, after a moment’s deliberation, pulled my shirt off.

  “What—” Khine started, before turning away. “Warn me first, dammit!”

  I finished removing the rest of my clothes and dropped into the water up to my chest. “Oh,” I said softly as I imagined the layers of dirt falling off me. I turned to see him begin swimming away from me. “What, Khine?”

  “Nothing,” he murmured.

  “You’re allowed to, but I’m not?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he bristled.

  “If my lack of modesty offends you…”

  “Just…just keep away from me. About an arm’s-length or so.” He flailed about in the water to show me exactly how far. His idea of “an arm’s-length” came out to about five.

  I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. “Afraid of what Rayyel will say?”

  “And Agos, and your whole damn nation while we’re at it.” He took a deep breath. “You, being with you…isn’t safe, as I think you’re well aware.”

  “That didn’t stop you from wanting to ride with me alone.” I dipped my hair in the water and began washing it.

  Khine gave a pained grin. “Not one of my wiser choices.”

  I took a deep breath. “How are we, Khine?”

  He hesitated. “What do you mean?”

  “When we left Anzhao, I felt like…like we weren’t how we used to be.”

  “I wasn’t aware we had a history.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Khine cupped the water with his hands and stared at it as he replied. “I just…I don’t know how to feel about you lately. Learning you were a queen was one thing. We were running from Lo Bahn then, and you were still…you. Tali, the same woman I met on the streets of Shang Azi. But then your guards found you, and you put on this mask of authority and arrogance that I don’t know how to deal with. Queen Talyien of Jin-Sayeng, with her carelessness and devil-may-care attitude and blatant disregard for others…she makes me angry, Tali. And I don’t even know if it’s fair to put that on you.”

  “You know it’s all an act.”

  “If it’s all an act, what lies behind it? Do you even know? Have you discarded who you really are because you’re not who you think you’re supposed to be?”

  “You wear lots of masks yourself,” I said. “Those cons you pull, or when you pretend to fawn over Lo Bahn and the rest of them when anyone can look at your eyes and see what you’re really thinking.”

  “A big difference,” Khine said. “I can apologize and pay back what I took, maybe laugh it off the same day. Can you bring people back from the dead?”

  I grimaced. It was not a subject I really wanted to discuss in detail. “Kora was a traitor. Biala Chaen…”

  “These words hold no meaning for me. What about Eridu?”

  “I didn’t want him dead.”

  “Agos thought it was necessary to kill him to protect you. You could’ve seen that. You should have.” Khine sighed, water dripping down his chin. “I’m sorry,” he grumbled. “I’ve upset you. I’m…this is exactly why Jia left me. Tashi Reng Hzi made a diagnosis. Diarrhea of the mouth.” His eyes looked distant.

  “I’ve heard there’s no cure for that.”

  “None that I know of. I’m still looking.”

  I heard my father’s voice in the back of my head. You do not know owe this peasant an explanation. The Ikessars surrounded themselves with peasants. Do you want to know how well that turned out for them?

  “Thank you for your counsel, Khine,” I said. “I will consider it.”

  “That mask again,” he mused.

  “Doesn’t it suit me?”

  His eyes were dancing. “No.”

  I smiled. “But it’s all I know. What else is there for me?”

  “Can’t you discard it? Bury it. You’re fine without it, you know.”

  “You make it sound so easy, like I can just walk away from what I was born to be, from this world my father had built for me even before I first drew breath.” I looked away. “My grandmother was his wife too, you know. His second wife, the one who bore him no children. My mother’s mother.”

  “What?” There was a note of disgust on his voice.

  “It’s not what you think. My grandmother left him for another man. During the War of the Wolves, he caught up with her and found that she had been keeping a daughter secret all this time—this man’s daughter, born long before Yeshin married her. The girl was ten years old at the time, I think. Yeshin seized her by the time she had her first blood—a tribute, he called it, recompense for my grandmother’s lies. My mother wasn’t even sixteen by the time I was born.”

  “Spirits,” Khine breathed.

  “This isn’t common practice,” I said. “Not in Jin-Sayeng. There are no rules forbidding it, but everyone else thought—in secret—that it was a crime against the gods. But Warlord Yeshin had a vengeful streak, an anger that ran deep. He could wield it like a weapon, and he wielded it well. I think my grandmother died not long after my mother died of childbirth. Died in grief for her daughter, for the sorry fate she had fallen into. Even now, people won’t speak of it, not where I can hear anyway.” I paused. “I don’t believe I remember my mother’s name. I must’ve known, once.”

  I turned to Khine. “I’m not trying to gain your sympathy,” I continued. “I just wanted to show you the construct of my entire life, how I’m still dancing to the tune made by a man who has been dead for sixteen years. I can’t stop the music. I wouldn’t know how to, not without throwing away the few things in the world that are dear to me. My husband, once. My son, Thanh. I can play the part of a queen well, Khine, but deep inside…I don’t know. I’ve always known I’m not Yeshin—not half of what he was—but I couldn’t even be someone who could erase the pain and sorrow he brought to the world.”

  “Then abdicate.”

  I took a deep breath. It ached to admit how beautiful the word sounded. “My enemies would love that,” I murmured. “I bare my neck and half a dozen warlords will come running to tear my jugular out before turning on each other. And they certainly just won’t let my son, the heir of two clans, walk away.” I swallowed. “You see, Lamang, I do know how things are, as opposed to the way I think should be. I’ve always known. I stopped dreaming of a quiet life with my husband and son years ago.”

  The cave echoed with our words. I shook my head, hating how much I had spilled over the course of a few minutes. He didn’t need to hear all of that. “Are there no village girls waiting for you in Phurywa?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  He sniffed. “Between the ones I scared off and the ones related to me…”

  “It’s a serious question.”

  Khine stared at me for a moment. “You know the answer to that. Jia was…the first.”

  “And last.” I swallowed, sliding off the rock until my jaw touched the water. I watched the surface ripple from my breath. “You never
tried to find her?”

  “I don’t think she would appreciate seeing me again. Not after the things I’ve said. Besides,” he mused. “Kyan Jang is very far from here.”

  “Is that why you were happy about that airship route?”

  I think my question caught him off-guard. Khine looked startled. “I didn’t consider that,” he admitted. “To be honest, when she said goodbye, that was it for me. I knew we could never go back to what it was. I recall saying good riddance. The last thing I would ever say to her. And the words I dropped before that were even worse.”

  His voice sounded so broken that without realizing it, I had forgotten his request and started swimming up to him. He turned towards me; this time, he didn’t try to keep his distance. He allowed me to approach him, drawing both of us deeper into the shadows.

  “Let’s stay here forever,” I said. I meant it lightly, teasing. But somehow it came out just as broken as his voice. Here we were—two rejects trying to run away, at least for a time. Was even the talk of escape so unforgivable? Could I not sink the shackles of my life in this pool, and not drown with them?

  I expected him to laugh at my words. “Why not?” he asked instead, echoing my thoughts. And he looked up at me as he said it, with a gaze so intense I felt a shiver run through me. I was close enough that he could reach out with both hands and pull me to his chest if he wanted to. I think I wanted him to.

  The water rumbled. I turned around in time to see an enormous, scaled jaw, filled to the brim with razor-sharp teeth, smash along the mouth of the cave.

  The horses panicked. I swam up to the ledge to reach for my sword and the thing slammed into the cliff behind the waterfall, which gave me a moment to see a fish-like form slide past the cave opening, half-in and half-out of the water. Wet feathers dotted the creature’s scales, which formed into a crest above its head.

  The beast made no sound as it dropped underwater. I didn’t know if the pool was deep enough for it to follow us into the cave; I couldn’t see into the thickness of the blue water, and I didn’t want to wait to find out. I sidled along the ledge with my sword in hand, past the screaming horses, and paused, waiting. I could feel the water gurgling around me, shadows moving where they ought to be still.

  “Tali—” I heard Khine call.

  “Get back!” I screamed.

  I saw the horses strain on their ropes just as the enormous shadow rose from the water. Jaws snapped into the cave a second time. I struck, feeling the blade catch on gnarly scale and bone. I was rewarded by a hiss and dark blood spreading through the water like a cloud. I pulled back and the creature lashed out, its teeth snapping once on empty air.

  I readied my sword a second time. The beast returned; I saw two sets of eyes staring back at me from its snakelike head. It reached in, opening its mouth. I drew back as its tongue reached into the cave and ducked when I realized I couldn’t swim fast enough.

  But the tongue went past me, reaching out as if to taste one of the horses. The frightened creature tried to lunge away. The appendage wrapped itself around the horse’s neck like a tentacle and pulled, dragging the horse down.

  I reached out and sank my sword into the base of the creature’s tongue, where blood vessels spread like a pulsating spider’s web. The creature turned its head away from the cave, but it didn’t let go of the horse. The horse stared helplessly back at me. I reached out of the water to grab the ropes, but the bridle snapped as the creature began to beat its feathered fins. Little whorls of air appeared above the water—a moment later, it was gone, taking the horse with it.

  I walked past the trail of blood to grab the other horses’ ropes. “There, there,” I murmured, the words meant to soothe myself. The shaking was starting. I dropped the sword so I could place both of my hands on the warmth of the nearest mottled neck.

  “Tali,” Khine breathed.

  I turned. He was still in the water, and there was a look on his face that went beyond terror over what had just occurred. I realized I was still naked, with blood all over me. Modesty returned. I felt my cheeks burn as I slowly slid back into the water. The attack had barely lasted more than a few heartbeats, but I was suddenly so exhausted.

  “How many more of those out there?”

  “Probably just the one,” Khine started. He cleared his throat and turned away from me. “It’s ah…a rare and solitary creature, or so I’ve heard. Never seen one until today, actually. It’s extremely territorial. I doubt there’s another in the area. Are—are you hurt?”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “Nerves. I’ll be all right. It happens all the time.”

  “You’ve a gash…on your arm there…” He gestured, but made no movement to come closer.

  I looked down. I didn’t notice it before. “It’s not serious,” I said. “I think I got caught on the rocks there. It could have been worse. Did you see the size of those teeth?”

  “Yes. Teeth. I was looking at the teeth.” He swallowed. “We should get dressed and pick another spot for the night. The blood might attract other beasts.”

  He scratched his cheek before getting out. I turned away. There was rustling as he put his clothes on, and then footsteps. I looked up and saw him place my own clothes closer to me. “Before you catch a cold,” he grumbled.

  I felt embarrassed all of a sudden—whatever spell I had been under in the water was broken by the gesture. “Thank you,” I managed to croak out.

  Khine mumbled something I couldn’t hear before walking out of the cave.

  ~~~

  With only two horses left, and one burdened with supplies, we decided to walk the rest of the way. Khine had wanted to ride double, but I wasn’t going to do that to a horse, not with at least another day ahead of us.

  The added complication, of course, meant another one or two days of delay. It was a good thing, at least, that the fish-bird beast—Khine said they called it a kunuti in Lay Weng Shio—didn’t drag the saddlebags with it. We still had enough rice and dried fish to last another week. But Khine didn’t seem worried about the supplies, and I found that I didn’t mind the thought of the extra days. After months of trying to track him down, I was starting to dread the thought of seeing Rayyel again.

  It was a far cry from how I had been three months ago.

  “What are you going to say to him this time around?” Khine asked me as we bedded from across each other in the dark that night. A fire crackled merrily a few paces away.

  “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

  He chuckled. “All this time I’ve known you, I thought you’ve got every step figured out like some brilliant tactician. Lo Bahn’s convinced of it, too.”

  “Was he, now? Was that why he made the effort to stab me in the back before I could get one in him?” I gave a soft smile, knowing he couldn’t see it. “I know how to look like I do. It’s part of the act I’ve played all these years.” I chewed on my lip. “That first time…I thought I could get Rayyel to listen to me. That I could somehow explain everything, holding on to that thin thread of hope. And why shouldn’t I? He was my husband, no matter what else we were. We had shared a bed together. A life. I was convinced for the longest time that there had to have been something in that, that it meant something.” The painful thoughts resurfaced. I pushed back at them with expert ease.

  “What was it like after he left?”

  I thought about the question, biting back every sarcastic thing that came to mind. “Hard,” I finally admitted.

  “I thought you were adamant that you didn’t need him around.”

  I stared at the dancing flames, my chin on my knee. “I don’t know if having him would’ve changed anything,” I said. “But it would’ve made things more tolerable. Rayyel and I…we are little more than puppets, propped up between the warlords to stop them from tearing into each other. Those first few months was chaos. We knew he went straight to Warlord Lushai. As soon as we could, we rode out there with every in
tention of accusing the Baraji clan of treason. But Lushai welcomed us with open arms. We ransacked his castle from top to bottom, searched every room and larder. There was no sign of Rayyel.”

  “What did Chiha say?” Khine asked.

  I didn’t even think he’d remember her name. Akaterru knows, I’ve tried to forget it often enough. “That bitch,” I said. “She was there. Her room was the first thing I searched. She just stood there while I threw the sheets aside and looked under the bed, smiling ever-so smugly.”

  “That’s suspicious of her.”

  “I thought so, too. She was hiding something, but whatever it was, I couldn’t find it. ‘Missing a husband, Queen Talyien?’ I remember her asking me. ‘Hard to imagine how you could misplace a man.’”

  Khine started to laugh, and then thought the better of it when I stared at him. “It was all I could do not to strike her,” I continued, as if I wasn’t interrupted. “She was still Lushai’s daughter and an affront like that would’ve been hard to justify, at least not without revealing what I knew.”

  “I’ve wondered about that,” Khine said. “I hope it’s not too forward to ask you.”

  “We’ve come this far.”

  “You would’ve saved a lot of trouble just telling everyone what Rayyel did. Yet you kept it to yourself, allowed them to blame you instead.”

  “There would’ve been more trouble had I accused Rai of anything. The way it played out, they only thought the worst of me—they couldn’t prove it.”