The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  “There it goes,” I said with a nervous laugh. The screech was getting louder. I looked up at the sky, automatically scanning the treetops.

  Agos gave a small sigh. “First those walking dolls, and now this. Have I told you how much I hate these scrapes you get us into?”

  “All the time.”

  “Well, I’m saying it again.”

  I paused for a moment before I repeated the motion with my blade. Nor had mentioned that the things hated the sound of steel being sharpened. It replied again, this time with the low wail of a caged animal being tormented. The fact that it could hear me meant it couldn’t be too far away.

  “Stay in the bushes, Agos. I’m going to draw it out.”

  “What?”

  “I said—”

  “I heard you. Are you mad?”

  I didn’t answer him and slowly made my way to the clearing.

  “The boy’s probably dead. Torn and eaten up. Dinner,” Agos called after me. “What are you doing this for? To prove to Kaggawa that you’re not like the other royals? We know you’re not. You’d be dead now if you were.”

  I tapped my blade against the ground. It was hard, packed with gravel, and even in the rain I could still hear the scraping noise the creature hated. I made a wide circle around me. Before I could even complete it, I caught the snuffling from the wet leaves.

  I counted to three. The creature leaped from the bushes.

  ~~~

  It was so dark that the only thing I could make out was the rain and the way it bent where the creature was. The fact that everything was shrouded in shadows helped—I think if I could see its face, the fear would’ve won. But all I could make out was black on black, deeper than the night. With the fear barely bubbling below the surface of my nerves, I struck without hesitation.

  My sword sank into flesh. The creature’s howl of pain was strangled short. I felt the hiss of air and blood and realized I had cut into its throat and chest. It dropped to the ground, and I could hear the clack of its teeth in its death throes.

  I took a step back. “My queen!” someone called behind me. Nor’s voice. I wiped rain from my mouth and turned up to see her appear with a lantern.

  “Blessed Akaterru,” Agos grunted as the light reached us. “It’s the woman with the missing child.”

  I looked at the body on the ground and realized the truth in Agos’ words. The creature had turned back to its human form, and I recognized the pattern on its skirt. “But she was the one who called for help,” I said.

  “The damned thing was trying to draw people into the woods,” Agos replied. He grimaced. “If this problem is as urgent as they say it is…”

  I turned to Nor. “Is Khine back in the village?”

  Nor looked surprised. “I thought he was with you.”

  “I thought I saw him go off into the woods by himself,” Agos said. “Right before I met you at the gate.”

  I stared at him. “And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

  “I didn’t know we’ve become his guardians,” Agos snapped.

  “We don’t even know what Kaggawa has planned for us. The last thing we need is to be fighting amongst ourselves or, Akaterru forbid, stalking off into the woods alone.”

  “Don’t tell me, tell him.”

  I sighed. “Maybe he went back to the village. Maybe—”

  We heard another howl, deeper into the woods. It was the gut-wrenching sound of a dog who had lost its master, the sort that seemed like it was ripped from its throat into the wind.

  Maybe it was my newfound confidence from the sight of the dead creature at my feet, combined with the energy from my still-frazzled nerves. Or maybe it was just the thought of Khine being in the woods alone. But I didn’t stop to think about my next step. Even before the howl could finish, I tore into the bushes towards it, the rain blurring everything in my path. My guards lumbered after me.

  I crossed a low ditch and reached the main path that led straight to the village gates. Here, I saw a figure standing very still. I recognized Khine immediately. Against the glow of the village lights, I also saw the dark, gangly shadow behind him, its shape a caricature of a wolf, stretched too far in every direction. One claw was touching Khine’s shoulder.

  “Khine!” I called.

  “Stop,” Khine said in an even voice. He pointed. I turned and saw a boy standing in the middle of the path. He didn’t look any older than three, with threadbare clothes damp with mud. His face was red, but if he had been crying before, he wasn’t now. He was staring quietly at Khine and the creature like his life depended on it.

  I heard Nor and Agos panting behind me and turned my attention back to the creature. It lifted one finger up, pressing it over its lips.

  “What are you doing to him?” I asked.

  The creature grinned.

  “He’ll kill the boy if I fight,” Khine said.

  I pointed at the boy. “That? His mother was one of them. They were trying to fool us.” I swung my sword through the air. “I killed her. Should I kill you, too?”

  The creature threw its head back and answered. “He offered his life in exchange.” Its voice was raspy, like dry sand and scorched earth. The sound made the hair on my arms stand on end. “A sweet life, a willing host. Unfortunate that my sister passed on, but we had to jump. The others were starting to suspect us.”

  “He’s not willing,” I replied. “We know it’s a trick. The boy is one of you. You wouldn’t hurt your own.”

  “He isn’t,” the creature said. It wrinkled its snout. “Or if he is…do you want that on your conscience?”

  I laughed. “Dai says you live among us as if you were one of us. That means you were with us during the feast. You know who I am.”

  “Queen Talyien, Lady of Oren-yaro.” The creature spoke as if reciting a memorized script.

  I pretended that hearing my name uttered by such a foul voice didn’t bother me. “Smart. Maybe you’re smart enough to remember who my father was and the things he did and didn’t care for.”

  It wasn’t expecting that sort of response. It froze for half a second, which was all I needed. As my sword struck its exposed arm, I saw Khine push back and stab it in the stomach with his own blade.

  It howled and released Khine as it went for me. Khine left the sword inside the creature and made a mad dash towards the child. I forced my eyes back to the battle. Sword met fur, and I felt its claws creep up my neck as the corpse-stench of its hot breath blasted into my face.

  And then Agos joined the fray. The creature flung me aside to face him. I slid across the mud. As I struggled to stand, slime in my mouth, Nor reached over to hook her elbow into mine. “It’s over,” she said as she pulled me up.

  I blinked against the rain and saw Agos standing over the creature’s body. Its head wriggled a few feet away, flopping about in the mud like a dying fish.

  “Killing them isn’t so bad when you know how,” Agos said, grinning at me.

  I spat out blood from the inside of my cheek and walked up to Khine. He held his arm out, stopping me in my tracks.

  I realized that he was standing very close to the boy. I thought boy automatically, but if you had met it alone in the dark, you would’ve been hard-pressed to call it that. Imp was a more appropriate description. Its face was twisted, creased with folds of dark skin. Its mouth was lined with rows of sharp teeth, and it regarded us with red, bulbous eyes full of tears and hate.

  “The child, too?” I gasped. When I had accused the boy of being one of them, I was talking about family and blood. I hadn’t meant exactly like they were. The thought had been too terrifying for me to consider, a blasphemy to the gods.

  “Are you going to kill it?” Khine asked.

  I found myself at a loss for words. The others were different. You don’t stop to think about defending yourself against a beast. It is an entirely different thing when confronted with their hissing, spitting cub. Looking at the imp filled me with revulsion, but it wasn’t attacking u
s—it just stood there, half-shivering. It didn’t help that I had seen it as nothing more than a normal child minutes ago.

  “We can’t just let it go,” Agos broke in. “You’ve seen what they can do. The more of these things are out there, the more dangerous this trip becomes.”

  “Was it even ever a child?” I wondered out loud.

  “It’s not now, whatever it is,” Nor said. “Kill it, Agos.”

  Agos took a step forward.

  “Wait,” I said.

  Agos looked at me in shock. “Don’t tell me you want us to let the unholy creature free into the woods. These things have no place in this world.”

  I turned to Khine. “You were offering yourself as a host back there for that. Tell us what we should do.”

  Khine wiped water off his face before replying. “I thought I had no choice. It was threatening the boy, and…” He swallowed. “It told me about how this works. How it’s just about having two souls in one body. Come into agreement with the thing and it won’t fully take over. It told me that it would live with us peacefully if we let it—but the villagers kill their hosts if they find out what they are, so they’re forced to fight back.”

  “You believed all of that?”

  “I wasn’t thinking,” he mumbled. “The boy was crying.”

  It still was. But it was no longer the wail of a child, the sort that made you want to calm and soothe with promises of sweets and wooden toys. It was the grating sound of something unnatural, of something that needed to die. If you heard that sound rustling in the bushes you would stick your sword into it first and ask questions later.

  “So you’re saying the boy is somewhere in there,” I said. “Taken over by this other thing. But it lied to you, Khine. Remember the one in the stables? It saw an opportunity to feed and it attacked. I didn’t threaten it—I had no idea this could happen. They’re controlled by their hunger.”

  “I carried him earlier,” Khine whispered. “He wasn’t like that. He was just a child.”

  The imp continued to cry.

  I think we would’ve stood there for hours, wracked with indecision while we stared at this creature in the rain, if Dai and his men didn’t appear from the mist. Without a word, he strode past us, grabbed the imp by its shirt, and slid a dagger into its breast.

  My first thought was that its flesh was much, much softer than I imagined it to be. My second thought was shattered by its death-cry, louder than both its mother and its uncle. I smelled the sharp scent of blood and my eyes watered against my will.

  Dai dropped the body and turned to us. “It was too far gone.”

  “What do you mean by that?” I asked.

  He turned to me. “Much has happened in one day. You all need to rest—we’ll be up early tomorrow.”

  “Is that all of them?” Agos broke in. “I can’t see how we’re supposed to rest if you have an entire village of these things walking around.”

  “You all smell of death to them, as far as they’re concerned,” Dai said. “I think you’ll be safe for tonight.”

  “Not much of a consolation,” Agos grunted.

  They led us back to the village. I walked alongside Khine, unconsciously matching my steps to his. When the crowd had drifted ahead of us, I found myself giving voice to what was bothering me. “Were you that ready to die?” I asked.

  Khine looked surprised at my tone of voice. “I told you already,” he replied.

  “Now that I think about it, death would’ve been vastly preferable to what you were offering that thing. A willing host, it said. And if I hadn’t caught up to you when I did…would we have even known? Could we have saved you then?” I turned to grab his shoulders and angled my head up to stare at his face. “How do I even know I’m still talking to Khine?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, pushing me aside.

  I didn’t let him. “You were making a deal with a demon, Khine. How do I know it didn’t come through and that it’s really you in there?”

  “His eyes,” Nor told us. “Your reflection in them will be upside-down. At least, that’s what they told us about anggali.”

  I tried to push his hair back from his face. “I can’t see them. It’s too dark.”

  “We can do it when he’s sleeping,” Nor suggested.

  He frowned. “I’m still me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure.” He looked almost hurt that I had to ask.

  ~~~

  My dreams that night were long and confusing. Parts I don’t fully recall anymore. But the most persistent scene was that of Khine with the demon at his shoulder. I saw it from every possible angle, saw the way the shadows bent around them as he came close to accepting its essence into his body. I don’t know why the image bothered me as much as it did. I only knew that I reacted the same way with every transformation—straight at them, sword drawn, a strangled cry in my throat.

  Around me, Mei’s words repeated like a chant, a thin strand in the wind. I woke up screaming. It was still dark and the rain had turned into a blanket that threatened to smother the world. I felt a hand on my shoulder as I forced myself up, and saw Agos’ concerned face peering down at me.

  “You care for Lamang, don’t you,” he said. Not a question. I looked up at him in confusion, and he shrugged. “You were saying his name in your sleep. Calling for him.”

  My heart was still racing from my dream. “I think he wants to die,” I said. “And I’m dragging him into this mess, just like I’m dragging everyone else.” Speaking my fears out loud tasted bitter in my mouth.

  “He just lost his mother,” Agos replied. “It’s normal.”

  I took a deep breath and pressed my back on the bamboo wall, listening to the rain drip down from the thatched roof.

  My silence must’ve unnerved Agos. “Order him to go back home,” he said.

  “I remember people telling me the exact same thing about you.”

  Agos bristled. “Which people?”

  “Just people.”

  “Maybe that’s your problem. You don’t know why you keep people around. You hold on when you should be letting go.”

  “Gods, we’re not talking about Rayyel again, are we?”

  He remained deathly serious. “We’re talking about you.”

  “You and everyone from one kingdom to the next,” I said. “I’m sick of it. Let’s talk about something else. Let’s…let’s talk about horses. No—let’s talk about you, Agos. What have you been doing all these years?”

  I didn’t think he knew whether I was sincere or not. I felt my cheeks burn, remembering we had walked down this road that same night. The night I ruined everything. I closed my eyes, hating myself for all my moments of weaknesses. I had to stop doing this. I had to stop trying to seek comfort if all it ever did was to make things worse. If the nation had a stronger queen, we wouldn’t be on the verge of falling apart.

  Agos gave a small huff, unaware of what was going on inside my head. “It’s nothing important. Odd jobs here and there. Not the steady pay with the army or the guards, but nothing so dangerous, either. I peddled wares at one point, played at being a merchant. Wasn’t very good with numbers and lost more money than I made. Good thing I learned that before I petitioned to have my name changed to alon gar.” He chuckled.

  “Probably a good thing—the officials would’ve given you too much trouble for a request like that. You were named asor arak, a soldier, for a reason. You were good at it, too.” I swallowed. “I meant what I said. I’ll find a way to put you back into service. I’ll speak with Lord General Ozo on your behalf.”

  “You don’t have to,” Agos said. “I didn’t find you to beg for my life back.”

  “Maybe Kaggawa is onto something,” I murmured. “The castes were supposed to help Jin-Sayeng maintain order, to ensure everyone knows their duties, but what good is it when it becomes all about the name and nothing else? It’s not like people stick to them anymore.”

  “And now you have a
n anggali invasion to worry about,” Agos agreed. “A merchant’s life sounds simpler, doesn’t it?”

  “An anggali invasion. Don’t forget the Zarojo, too, on top of the usual squabbling warlords. Akaterru help us. I don’t know if I can do this. Not without my father. Not alone.” I shivered. “Tell me to run away with you again.”

  Agos smirked. “Are you sure?”

  “And I’m going to answer no. But…” I took a deep breath. “But it makes me feel better.”

  He stared at me for a heartbeat. “I don’t understand you,” he finally said. “I never did. But damn if I don’t keep coming back. I’m a moth to your flame, Princess.” Agos took a deep breath. “Run away with me,” he said, taking hold of my hand. “Even if I think you’d rather run off with Lamang.”

  His words jolted me out of the haze. I pulled away from him. “We’ve gone through this before.”

  “We have, and not in the way you think.” Agos swallowed. “Go to sleep, Princess. I have to check the roof for monsters.” He gave me a crooked smile and left me alone.

  I sat up for the rest of the night with my arms around my knees, willing the rest of my thoughts away.

  Chapter Seven

  The Rice Merchant

  Here is a topic of conversation my husband would’ve loved. The rice merchants of the Sougen made most of their fortunes before the alon gar caste ever became a reality. And while most of them supported Dragonlord Reshiro Ikessar’s decree, a number of families actually went on a campaign against it, wanting the exclusivity and certainty offered by continuing to work under the warlords. It was all a very chaotic and confusing time. I have trouble keeping track of the various families, factions, and their contributions in the chaos of those years, but I’m sure Rayyel would be more than happy to entertain any questions you may have. And then—if you’re still awake by the end of his lectures—he’ll probably quiz you to make sure you’ve been paying attention.