“Don’t treat me like an idiot. You were here long after we’ve all left for Anzhao. What’s going on down there? A priest of Shimesu is bleeding the elders and everyone looks at me like I’m the one going mad. Inzali…”
“Let go of the gate,” Inzali said. He stepped back, and she pushed it outward. “I’ll speak with you about it, but you have to keep your voice down.”
“I don’t know if I can…”
“Promise me, Khine.”
He made a sound that could’ve meant anything.
Inzali’s eyes flicked towards me. “I see you’re well enough to have walked all the way out here. The last time I saw you, you looked like a corpse.”
I nodded. “Your mother has been most hospitable.”
“It’s a family trait, I’m afraid.” She snapped her fingers in front of Khine, who was pacing impatiently. “Stop it. Let’s go find a quiet spot.”
We took the stairs from the end of the street down to the beach. Thousands of shells lay strewn amongst the pebbles, glistening in colours of cream and mother-of-pearl. A muddy seagull came by to peck at the detritus.
“This started right before I left,” Inzali said, drawing a quick breath. “The priests gave out the food for free at first. Their civic duty, they said. Some of the elders—their children don’t always send money, so they’ve learned to share what little they have amongst themselves. The food was a welcome thing, and who was I to stop them? We barely had enough for ourselves as it were.”
“I tried to send money as often as I could,” Khine murmured.
Inzali gave him a look. “Are we here to talk about this, or are we here to talk about you? You wanted to know about this. When they first asked for volunteers, no one wanted to step up. So they stopped giving food. And then the supply wagons were late again, so you can guess what happened afterwards.”
“The villagers volunteered,” I said.
Inzali gave a wry smile. “They drew lots.”
“So they forced each other?”
“Easiest way to get food down here. Mother…”
Khine grabbed her arm. “Don’t tell me you’ve let her do this, too.”
Inzali pulled away. “Do you think I could stop that woman from doing something she felt she was obligated to do? The way I can stop you? Where did you think you got it from?” She snorted through her nose.
“We’re not talking about me right now. You said as much. You were supposed to take care of her!”
“The nerve of you to put this on me—”
I left them to argue and made my way back to the mayor’s house. I saw Thao standing by the doorway. “Are those two biting each other’s heads off again? They used to fight all the time when we were children.”
“You probably heard everything.”
“Enough to know I shouldn’t step in,” she said. She beckoned to me. “I’m glad to see you well. My brother was hysterical when they brought you in. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen him so frightened in my life. Your face was all black and blue.”
I walked past the gate and into the door. “How are you acquainted with the mayor?”
“Inzali stayed behind to tutor his youngest son after we all left Phurywa. His daughter was a childhood friend of ours.”
“Could I speak with him?”
Thao wrung her hands together. “He’s not here.”
“His daughter?”
Her face tightened. “Please, Queen Talyien. You understand we’re simple folk, don’t you? We’ve tried to help you as best as we can, but the troubles you bring…they’re beyond us.”
Thao’s response was unexpected. I opened my mouth to protest, but she drew away before I could get a word in. I awkwardly stood there, wondering if I should chase after her and explain myself. I would’ve never considered such a thing seven months ago. How easily we forget a lifetime of decorum. Set a horse free and it will resent the saddle forever.
But I didn’t have time to indulge in such thoughts. Thao soon returned with the mayor’s daughter, a certain Iri Feng, who knew nothing about me other than my position as an unfortunate tourist who discovered the dangers of featherstone. She didn’t know my real name; Lo Bahn had introduced himself as a businessman looking to make investments in Phurywa. The rest of us were referred to as “road companions,” whatever that meant.
Inwardly, I wondered at how long that story will hold with Qun’s men at our doorstep. I berated myself for my clumsiness. I was so close to my goal…and yet here I was, struggling to keep upright. Even the faked pleasantries were starting to get exhausting.
Drawn by the sound of our conversation, Lo Bahn appeared just as I asked where Iri Feng’s father might be. He looked amused.
“He’s away on a trip,” she stammered.
“Any chance he’ll be back soon?” I asked.
She threw Thao a look, mumbled an answer about it being sometime soon, told me to make myself at home, and excused herself. Thao followed her, and they left for the main door.
“So,” Lo Bahn said, turning around to look at me. “You’re alive.”
“You are,” I quipped. “Why shouldn’t I be?”
He snorted, casting a quick glance at the door where Iri Feng had disappeared into. “I heard your husband’s nearby,” he said in a lower voice. “And that he isn’t Qun’s prisoner, at least not yet. I’d congratulate you—”
“You don’t have to.”
“—but I’m preoccupied with our current situation, as you should be. You’re aware that woman just lied to you, of course. Bah! Of course you are. Her father’s not on a trip. The weasel’s up in that temple. Whatever’s going up there—I want no part of it, you understand, but it seems like I’m already balls-deep, anyway. Where’s Lamang?”
“Speaking with Inzali. The priests are getting involved with the villagers.”
“Why am I not surprised? The whole thing reeks of magework.”
“I thought you knew nothing about mages.”
“Never said that,” Lo Bahn said, heaving his bulk into a cushioned chair. He grimaced. “I know enough to keep away from them. I don’t know what got into your husband’s head about this whole business, but I can see why you’re so enamoured with him. You’re both the same. Obsessed. Persistent. Going to have a hard time explaining Lamang to him though, aren’t you?”
“I…I don’t know what you mean.”
A smile. “Of course you don’t.”
“Get to the point, Lo Bahn.”
He pressed his lips together. “I suggested to your guards that since you’re awake and out of danger, they can help bring an end to this madness. They agreed with me. They left for the temple right after lunch to see what they’ll discover. Of course, as soon as Iri Feng found out, she looked flustered and started avoiding me. Wasn’t sure why she even fed you that line about his business trip with me standing there. Village folk, pah!”
“How far is that temple?”
Lo Bahn looked irritated. “How should I know?”
“Come with me back to the bridge. I need to talk to someone and you’re the most level-headed person around at the moment.”
He thought I was joking. When he realized I wasn’t, he made a soft sound of acquiescence and allowed me to lead him out on the street.
~~~
The priest was still there when we crossed over to the southern end of the peninsula. Lo Bahn watched silently as the priest carried out his procedures. He filled another vial, corked it, and placed it back inside his baskets before holding out another rice ball. “Last one!” he called out.
I heard Lo Bahn grunt. “He didn’t bring enough for everyone.”
“No,” I agreed.
“Keeps everyone bickering. And not everyone’s eager to volunteer. What he’s doing seems harmless enough, but…”
“But what?”
Lo Bahn cocked his head at me. “You can forge a connection to the agan through blood. But the spells you conjure from it is forever linked to that person; I’ve heard
of the vile things that have happened to such donors. Tales of people turning into twisted monsters and walking amongst their neighbours to snatch children from their cribs to eat. Foul things.”
“Bedtime stories from Herey,” one of the men behind us broke in.
Lo Bahn laughed. “So why don’t you go raise your hand, then? Come on. I dare you.” He bared his teeth.
The man looked flustered. “Don’t need to. Have enough to eat back home.” He stepped back, looking ashamed.
“Fucking coward,” Lo Bahn sneered.
I drew my attention back to the crowd. An old woman had stepped forward. I recognized Khine’s mother. The priest himself broke into a wide grin. “Mei Lamang! What a surprise! I was just speaking with your son.”
The look on her face reminded me of Khine from earlier. Even their eyes were the same. “Just get this over with, Belfang,” she said, exposing her arm.
I moved to stop her, but Lo Bahn grabbed my shoulder. “You don’t want to cause trouble,” he said in a low voice. “A crowd of unruly elders is the last thing you want to see.”
“But…”
It was too late for me to do anything, anyway. The priest Belfang stabbed Mei’s arm. She sat back, gritting her teeth without a sound, not even a whimper. The priest set aside the vial and handed her the rice ball. She barely looked at it. She gave it to the woman next to her, got up, and began to make her way back through the crowd.
I reached out for her shoulder. She didn’t recognize me at first and started to pull away. And then her eyes fell on me. “You should be in bed,” she said in a low voice.
“You have to explain what’s happening,” I told her. “Khine saw the priest when he arrived. He’s upset.”
She gave a soft smile. “He would be. He’s arguing with Inzali right now, isn’t he?”
“You know your children well.” I realized she was struggling to walk and allowed her to lean on me, which had a poetic sort of irony to it. We both stumbled past an open gutter, stinking of raw sewage. Here, she paused to catch her breath.
“We are old,” she said.
“That’s obvious,” Lo Bahn replied. I shot him a look.
Mei smiled, ignoring him. “Not so old that we are dying, but old enough not to see a life outside this village. The effects of the featherstone…” She looked at me up and down. “It’s different for everyone. A lot of us who have lived in that mining town for years, some since birth, have been breathing the featherstone for a long time. It didn’t kill us, but it’s made us too weak. I get tired just walking to the lake.
“Some of the others have it worse. Coughing, itching, vomiting in the middle of the night. When those new priests arrived years ago, they asked for our blood in exchange for food and claimed they were trying to study how to cure these ailments to prevent future deaths. I was a miner before I had my children, so I knew I’ve been exposed to more featherstone than some of the villagers. I give when I can.”
“Yet you can barely walk,” Lo Bahn said. He gave another snort of derision. “You are Lamang’s mother. Don’t you fools realize what’s truly happening here? Those new priests are mages in disguise. They’re using your blood to help enhance their connection to the agan.”
“There are healers who specialize in the agan,” Mei replied.
Lo Bahn sneered. “That man back there looked nothing like a healer. Your son’s not even a real doctor and he does a better job.”
“Lo Bahn—” I started.
Mei’s eyes were wide open. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly. My son went to Tashi Reng Hzi’s school. Of course he’s a real doctor.”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“Lo Bahn!” I snapped.
“He failed his examinations.” I clutched at Lo Bahn’s arm and he turned to me with a sour expression. “How am I supposed to know you’ve been keeping the old woman in the dark? All of you? Bah.” He jerked away from me. “It doesn’t change a damn thing. These priests have been fooling you and you’ve been letting them. What dark spells have you unleashed into the world because of your ignorance? What abomination? And for what, a paltry bite to eat? You’re no different than the scum from Shang Azi, begging from the streets and wailing about their misfortunes…”
“We did this so we could lift our children’s burdens,” Mei whispered. “One less day for them to worry about feeding us. Do you know what helplessness feels like?”
“I don’t,” Lo Bahn snorted. “Give in to helplessness and you’ve got nothing left.”
I pushed him aside. “That’s enough, Han. I didn’t ask you to come here to criticize them. All I wanted was your opinion.”
“You’re getting it. Waging war on the empire, trekking through the wilderness, and now mingling with mages. What else do you have in store for me?”
“I told you I’ll fix this.”
“When?” Without giving me a chance to answer, he waved me aside and walked away.
I turned back to Mei. She was shaking from head to toe. “Let’s go back home,” I said. I offered her my arm again, and after a moment’s hesitation, she took it.
She didn’t talk until we reached her house. I helped her climb the stone steps, feeling like I would slip myself with every tread. But even with the headache that was threatening to consume me, I couldn’t tear myself away from the expression on her face. “Lo Bahn made it sound worse than it really is,” I finally said. “Khine is earning as much as he can so he can go back for his last year. He’s found work in the meantime.”
“You don’t have to lie to me,” Mei murmured. She slid down against the wall. I tried to offer her a cushion, but she refused it. “My children’s stories did not line up. Cho is out there somewhere, drinking himself to a stupor. He hasn’t been able to look me in the eye since they arrived. I knew something was wrong. It was my fault—I chose to ignore it.”
“They’re only concerned about you.”
“They shouldn’t be!” she gasped. “I don’t even know why they’re here. They’ve all been busy up at the mayor’s house since they arrived. Could they even afford this trip? I’ve asked them not to go here because I knew money was tight. I thought, since Khine was already a physician…if he was a physician…”
Mei’s face tightened, as if the thought that he wasn’t was more painful than she imagined it could be. She turned to me. “Do you know what happened?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t about to admit anything else to the woman.
“Inzali wrote to me a few years ago about Khine having some troubles. But I didn’t want to pry. I had faith that he could handle whatever the gods decide to throw his way. Was I wrong?”
“No,” I said. “Khine’s a good man. You know this.”
“He is…” She gazed out of the window. “Full of anger.”
“That’s not how I’ve come to know him.”
“Not towards the world. I think he loves the world. But down, deep in his heart…” She swallowed, grasping for words. “When he was young, he would get into these fights.”
“Most boys do.” My son didn’t, but that was beyond the point.
“Vicious fights. Not mere scuffles. Cho would get into scuffles. Khine…he would come home with a bleeding ear and smashed fists, and I would have to talk to the other boys’ mothers because they always come out looking worse. It is not in his nature to want to hurt someone—not unless he felt like he had to do it.” There was a shiver in her voice as she spoke.
“He isn’t that boy anymore,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“If he failed his examinations…gods, it all makes sense now. Why he wrote less and less over the years, and the letters that used to be full of hope had turned sour. I sent Inzali to Anzhao for his sake. She didn’t want to leave me in the first place, but I told her that there was nothing for her here anyway, and her brother needed her more than I did.” She turned to me. “That anger, turned inside…he would die trying to make things right again. Is this what he’s been doing? What has h
e gotten himself into, trying to fix this?”
Almost as if he heard us talking about him, the door opened and Khine barged in. “What did you do?” he asked.
“I didn’t…”
“I saw Lo Bahn along the way. He told me everything.”
“Son—” Mei began.
“Tali,” Khine said carefully, his eyes blazing, and I had a sudden glimpse of what his mother had spoken of. “Please—give me a moment with my family. Go outside and worry about yours.”
“I had no intention of bringing Lo Bahn to see your mother. He was the one who opened his mouth first. And anyway,” I added, my own temper rising, “you were the one who wanted me to stay here in the first place. I didn’t…”
“You’re not listening to me,” he said. “Outside. Lord Rayyel is waiting for you outside. Are you going to speak with him or not? Isn’t that the reason why we’re all here?”
Chapter Ten
Son of the Ikessars
My head was spinning as I clambered down the steps. Khine’s words still rang in my ears, along with the shame that the abject rejection of a con-artist could be so upsetting. I barely even saw Rayyel at first—only his faint outline as he stood in the middle of the street with his arms crossed. He was wearing a loose grey tunic that rippled slightly with the breeze.
My first thought was that he looked every bit like an Ikessar should.
Not, of course, that men from the Ikessar clan didn’t come in all shapes and sizes. But reading history books can give one the impression that an Ikessar scholar needed to appear a certain way: a royal bearing even in threadbare clothes, a thin face with a soft jawline, long hair tied high, a well-groomed beard—if they could grow one—and a seemingly permanent vacant look on their faces.
Rai was not a true aren dar Ikessar. He carried the name, but that was only because his mother was the last of his line and they needed him to secure the throne. Contrary to popular belief, the Ikessars were one of the few who clung to the rubrics of their clan and religion with near-zealousness, so I’ve always wondered how they were able to undermine custom in Rayyel’s case. Regardless of the specifics, there he was, with the sort of bearing that would make you hard-pressed to imagine that his father was a mere soldier. His clan had nothing to fear.
The Ikessar Falcon Page 13