“Ambush them?” Agos asked, cracking his fists.
“There’s only four of us. I counted six heads.”
Agos snorted. “That a yes or a no?”
I saw Nor smile. “I suppose if they’re not expecting it…”
We split. Khine whistled to me before I could walk a step and pointed at a white patch on the ceiling. I nodded and made a wide berth around it. A few steps ahead of us, Agos dropped the torch and stepped on it, covering us in near-darkness. Daylight was dying, reduced to a thin, pale shaft by the entrance.
I breathed against the scarf while I gripped my sword and waited. It didn’t take long. I heard voices deep in conversation, echoing through the tunnels. I was starting to wonder if maybe we should’ve agreed on a signal before I saw Agos rush straight for the last man who walked in. He cut him from behind before I could blink. Nor appeared a second later, dropping the one next to Agos’ victim. This left four very alert soldiers, who swarmed them.
I struck, picking the smallest target in the hopes of falling him just as fast as my guards did. No such luck; the man turned on me with such speed that I completely forgot my plan of attack. It was all I could do to defend myself. I heard Agos yell at me to fall back, but I couldn’t even do that. From the corner of my eyes, I saw Khine follow, as if waiting for an opening.
“No!” I found myself screaming. “Don’t—”
The soldier turned, striking him on the shoulder. I pressed forward. I saw another soldier move towards us, but Agos grabbed him by the shoulder and struck him in the face with a closed fist.
I turned back to my opponent, who had smashed his elbow into Khine’s belly. I think he had decided to get rid of Khine first before me, which was almost smart of him. Almost. The momentary distraction was all I needed. I slashed low, catching him across the thigh. He realized I was the one he needed to worry about and pushed Khine away to get to me.
I stepped back, smiling.
“Fucking bitch thinks she can fight,” he said.
“Think you can prove the fucking bitch wrong?” I crooned.
He laughed, brandishing his sword as he approached. I detected a swagger in his step and kept walking backwards. If I could lead him into the darkness, I might have an advantage, if my eyes adjusted before his did. I had been in the dark longer and was confident they would.
I heard footsteps. The soldier opened his mouth to speak, but only a grunt came out. I saw a blade sticking out of his belly. I was about to praise Khine when I realized that Khine was too far away. Nor and Agos were still busy with two soldiers near the tunnel entrance.
The soldier gave a gurgling sound, spilling blood as he was kicked away from the blade. I saw a torch, and then the figure holding the torch, and then my husband’s face.
Chapter Eight
Village of the Damned
“Rayyel,” I said, unsure if I was seeing a spectre.
I saw his jaw quiver.
The clashing blades faded behind me. I took one step forward.
He started to run.
“No,” I found myself saying. “Rai—wait!” I hurtled down the path after him.
“Tali!” Khine’s voice. I pushed it away from my thoughts. I was focused on the torchlight, the faint outline like a distant star. My eyes watered.
Stop and turn, Rai. Stop and turn, why won’t you stop and turn? You said you loved me. And I loved you, for so very long I loved you. Why can’t that be enough?
Faint echoes of the narrative I had repeated to myself all these long years. I wasn’t sure I believed them anymore, but I tore after Rayyel like my sanity depended on it, not caring that the movement dislodged the scarf. I screamed his name, hoping the echo would carry it further than my feet could take me.
I felt the ground begin to shake.
“Above you!” Nor screamed. My reflexes kicked in. A dark shape dropped down, blocking the path. I saw it unfurl its wings before turning to me, red eyes gleaming, hooked mouth open.
I headed straight for the gap between its tail and the wall. Even after my eyes had adjusted to the darkness, I couldn’t see much except the dancing shadows cast by Rai’s torch. That he had stopped gave me renewed hope. I drew my sword up as the creature slammed its head into the wall, missing me by a hand’s-width.
The tunnel shook.
I struck its front leg and felt my sword bite into leathery flesh. I pulled back and tried to aim for its neck.
Footsteps. “Watch out!” Khine cried. “White dragons spit—”
The beast’s neck arched. I dropped my head just as a wad of venom smacked above me.
I saw the shadows dance and Rai’s figure turn around in the distance.
“Now, Queen Talyien!” Nor called out. She threw a rock at the white dragon’s head, hitting it in the eye. It turned towards her.
I tore my eyes away from the battle and started down the path again.
“Rai!”
I had never heard so much desperation in my life. That it came from my own voice was a clear sign of how low I’ve sunk. I could hear Yeshin’s booming retort in my head. What are you doing, child? Steel yourself! A wolf of Oren-yaro would never…
But I didn’t care about all of those. I didn’t care about the anger or those tired old quarrels. All I could see was my chance to save my son disappearing into the darkness, and it was all I could do not to shred the shadows into pieces.
My boots landed on wet rock. I skidded, tumbling down a short slope. I tried to catch myself with my hands, but I fell at such an angle that my shoulder slammed first. My head spun as the pain erupted around the socket; the last I noticed before I slipped into darkness were the feathery wisps of dust under my nostrils.
~~~
“I think I’m pregnant, Rai.”
It was sunset and we had just walked out of a meeting that had started before lunch. I had also just finished vomiting into one of the flower pots in the garden; Rai was politely standing a few paces away with a look that verged on horrified. I got up to wipe my mouth, and that was when I told him.
His expression changed, but not by much. I had come to expect that. “So soon?” he asked.
I wanted to smack him. “Apparently, it works that way.”
It was like he had never considered it before. “Our coronation is still three years away. Would having a child before that violate the priests’ plans? I had wanted to consult with them after the wedding, but there’s been so much going on and I didn’t have the time…”
I came up to him. “Rai,” I said. “Are you not happy about this?”
“I’ll have to go to the temple tonight. And send word to Shirrokaru. And to the Citadel—my mother will want to know.”
“Rai.”
His eyes snapped back from its usual haze and turned to me. “Beloved Queen.”
“We’re having a child.”
“Yes, you said. You have visited the healer, of course?”
“That’s how I found out.” I reached for his hands, both of which had been hanging loosely at his sides, and squeezed them. “I asked you a question.”
Rai blinked. “What question?”
“I asked if you were happy about this. You seem distracted.”
“I’d have preferred if this happened with the priests’ blessings. The eyes of the entire kingdom are on us. I am Ikessar by name only—my father is a minor noble from the Hio clan, and with my uncle dead, exceptions had to be made to name me an Ikessar. A child of mine…”
“Akaterru rot your priests,” I hissed. “I wanted to know if you were happy about this. For us.”
“I don’t understand your question,” Rai said.
I looked into his eyes and saw the truth in that. He really didn’t. Inwardly, I asked what I had been expecting. Clearly more than what I got. It didn’t have to be much—something that told me I was more than an obligation, that I could give him something that rivalled whatever it was Chiha Baraji offered. A fraction of the depth of my feelings for him.
But he had the perfect mask on, that unbreakable wall. I didn’t want to admit it, but he was always much better at it than me, and I couldn’t see beyond his blank eyes. He was thinking about something, but I didn’t know what it was. “Are you trying to decide on names?” I asked, trying to keep my voice light.
“The priests…” he started.
“Right,” I murmured.
He was now staring at the pond with such intensity you would think the fish in it were more interesting than his own wife. Knowing Rai, though, they probably were. “I suppose,” I heard him whisper, “that there will be no problems. But I must write to the Citadel at once. Beloved Wife…” He pulled his hands away from me and bowed.
I watched him walk away, counting his steps. He stopped at the first garden archway.
“I am partial to Thanh, if it’s a boy,” Rai said.
“Thanh,” I repeated. “The first Kibouri priest. But wasn’t he a commoner?”
I knew, as soon as I said the words, that it was the wrong thing to say. I meant nothing by it. But there was a slight tremor in his voice when he replied. “A servant to the people, through and through. As we all are.”
I reached for him to apologize and saw him crumble. I turned, and my surroundings were swirling back, fading into darkness. My first instinct was to wrap my arms around my belly to protect my child, but something told me that my womb was empty. Barren. I dropped to my knees to scream.
Silence. I opened my eyes. I was still in the garden, but it was nighttime and there were crickets in the grass. Rayyel was still there, but he was wearing different robes and his beard was longer. I slowly rose and saw that he was sitting on a bench by the fishpond. There was a soldier’s helmet on his lap.
I recognized the falcon crest of the Ikessar’s. The last time the Ikessar clan had an army was when the mountain clans lent their men during The War of the Wolves. Rayyel’s father, Shan aron dar Hio, had been a high-ranking general. Had because my father killed him, of course. Rayyel never spoke of him. It was understandable, because all things considering, Rayyel was a bastard and the less said about that, the better.
He looked up, but not because of me. A servant came to announce a visitor, and then I saw him standing there, wringing his hands together. An old man, the innkeeper from that damned inn.
Rayyel set the helmet aside and beckoned for him to come closer. The man began to talk.
I stepped towards them. They both turned at the sound and the innkeeper raised a crooked finger to point at me. “She was in bed with that man,” the man gasped. “The one she is always with, her dog, her guard’s captain.”
The words sank in. For a moment, I wondered if Rayyel would get angry. And then—a stray thought…I wanted him to be angry. I wanted him to react. I wanted him to do something. He was always so quiet, so rigid, expressionless. Was it too much to ask for a spark of love from a man I would so willingly die for?
He did nothing, of course. In the meantime, the innkeeper was babbling, talking about his debts, his inn going bankrupt, and if only we could lend a helping hand he would forget he had ever seen anything. And then my sword ripped into his gut, the wound like a broken smile…
Snakes began to crawl out of it.
I reeled back. Called to Rayyel. But like the falcon that marked his clan’s crest, he had flown from my sight, leaving me to pick up the pieces.
The memories repeated like a never-ending play. The details would change once in a while: in some, Rayyel would turn, but his face would distort into a demon’s, forcing me to run my sword through him as well. Or the snakes would crawl out of me as soon as I announce my pregnancy, ripping their way from my belly and out through my mouth. I could feel them, too, the way they stretched my throat as their scales slithered past my lips. Terrible, wretched dreams. They still haunt me to this day.
And then I opened my eyes. The first thing that caught my attention was a fan on the ceiling, turning gently with the wind from what was probably a weather vane on the roof. Pain shot through my neck and down my spine, and I had the distinct sensation of glass shards being shoved down my eyeballs. “Water,” I managed to croak out, not even knowing if there was anyone there who could hear me.
But someone was there. I heard footsteps, voices. Before I could make anything out, I saw Khine beside me, a cup of water in his hands.
I propped myself up against the wall. Breathing was painful. I took the water and drank all of it before I handed the cup back to him.
“Damn you, Tali,” Khine whispered. “We thought we’d lost you.”
“I’m hard to kill,” I managed to croak out. I tried to gather my thoughts. “Was it the dragon? I remember fighting that ugly bastard.”
“Agos and Nor killed it. No—you fell into a patch of featherstone. You also tore your shoulder.”
That explained why it felt like it was wrapped in iron. I resisted the urge to look down, because every single movement was painful. “Where am I?”
“Phurywa,” he said. “We…we dragged you back here. Got help. This went beyond what I was capable of.” He scratched his head.
“Qun,” I managed. “Did we escape the soldiers?”
“So far,” Khine said. “I don’t think they saw us head out here. No sign of them since the mines.”
The door slid open. I saw an older woman step in. She shuffled inside softly, like she was afraid of disturbing me. “If your patient is awake, Khine, shouldn’t you feed her?” she asked.
“Ma—she’s not really my patient,” Khine said.
The woman made a snorting sound. “You’re too modest. He’s always been too modest, this son of mine.” She patted his shoulders before drifting to the foot of the bed. She tapped the window with a closed fist to prop it open. “I hope the bed isn’t too hard,” she continued. “I wanted you brought somewhere more comfortable, but Khine didn’t want to bother anyone. You wouldn’t think he’s a big city doctor from the look of him.”
“I’ll get you food,” Khine grumbled. “If you feel like eating, that is.”
“I feel like there’s knots in my stomach, but I guess it can’t hurt.”
He fled before his mother could get another word in. As he stepped out, I turned to observe her. On second thought, she wasn’t that old—there were barely any lines on her face, though her hair was streaked with white. She had Khine’s eyes. Hers were even softer than his, the softest eyes I had ever seen on anyone.
“Thank you for your hospitality,” I said, bowing to her. “Please accept my utmost gratitude.”
She looked taken aback. “My home isn’t much, but I hope you’re comfortable.”
“I am.” If you didn’t count the sensation of cats crawling up my gullet and lungs, but she didn’t have to know that. I glanced around my surroundings. I was in a small room, cramped enough that the shadows cast from the fan reached from one side of the wall to the other.
I turned back to Khine’s mother. “Did Khine and his siblings grow up here?”
“No,” she replied. “We had another house back then. I’ve been living here since the children left.” She noticed the blanket had fallen off me and pulled it up to cover my legs before patting my knee. “The children say they know you from the city. If it’s not so forward, may I ask how they are doing? Are they well?”
I opened my mouth, but it was Khine who answered for me from the door. “Well enough, Ma. I told you.” He was carrying a steaming bowl. “Can I speak with Tali alone, please?”
She flicked his ear with her fingers before walking out. “Why are you smiling?” he asked, turning to me.
I tried to straighten my face. “I’m not.”
He set the tray beside me. I could see noodles in a thick, red broth. Bamboo shoots, leafy cabbage, and boiled eggs bobbed between a sheen of oil—sesame, probably, from the smell of it. There was also a new cup, one filled with a drink that almost made me recoil when I sniffed it.
“Better you don’t ask what’s in that,” Khine said with a sheepish
grin.
“You’re trying to poison me again.”
“When have I ever?”
“You keep making me drink weird things.”
“It’ll help with the pain. An old recipe I got from an apothecary in Shang Azi. Runs a bookshop, too—roundest eyes I’ve ever seen on a woman. There’s poppy extract, and herbs...”
I grimaced. “An apothecary? Or a tavern?”
“Well, there’s also gin in it.”
“I knew it. You want me drunk.”
“It helps stabilize the infusion but yes, you are less snippy when you’re drunk.”
“If this is the extent of your powers of seduction, I can see why you don’t have anyone waiting for you here.” I took a sip. The concoction wasn’t as bad as he made it sound. It was fairly sweet, with a hint of sourness and spice mixed in with the earthiness of the herbs. I felt my senses blur; along with it, the pain began to subside, and it was suddenly easier to breathe.
He was staring at me now. “You almost died,” he said, his voice growing serious.
“Why didn’t I?”
“Rayyel’s friend.”
I pushed the cup away. “He’s here? It wasn’t a dream?”
Khine nodded.
“I remembered chasing after him, and then the dragon…”
“It is as you recall. Rayyel was in the mines trying to obtain featherstone samples for the mages in the temple.”
“A moment,” I said, trying to wrap my head around his words, because it still felt like someone was punching me with a brick. “Mages? Temple?”
“It seems that the temple of Shimesu in the mountain has been taken over by mages the past few years. This may have been the academy pointed out to him. It seems that they are not entertaining visitors, and he has been here the past few weeks trying to convince them to speak with him.”
“Rayyel,” I repeated. “You’ve been talking to him?”
“Not exactly,” Khine said. “When you fell into the featherstone, his companion Namra stepped up to assist us. She’s a mage. She’s also a Kibouri priestess, as it happens.”
The Ikessar Falcon Page 11