The Ikessar Falcon

by Villoso, K. S.

  “What you told me about him having two souls…”

  “Ah. Like the dragons, the mad dragons he likes to go on about. You can smell the hypocrisy from a mile away.”

  I didn’t know how to phrase the questions in my mind. I didn’t doubt what he was saying—Dai’s voice had changed too often in my presence for me to disagree. But the events in the woods by the border were still fresh in my mind. Dai showed none of the same inclinations as those monsters did. I wondered if Huan was deliberately trying to mislead me, or if he really didn’t know anything about the creatures that lurked so near his own lands. Not that I could blame him. Up until two weeks ago, I didn’t know, either, and I was supposed to be Queen.

  The ravine continued to widen. I saw several rock cairns piled in a row near the rightmost cliff, marked with rusted swords that have been plunged into the dirt. Seo pulled off his helmet. “They were attacked right here, my lord,” he said. He drew a line with his finger in the air, from one end of the ravine to the next. “We believe there were at least four different dragons.”

  “We barely survived the one,” I breathed.

  “And we are hoping my brother can survive against more of them,” Huan said grimly. He pulled out a coin from his pocket and flicked it onto the cairns. “With any luck, we’ll all die out here and have to rest beside these bastards.” He said the last part with a measure of affection. He must’ve known these men.

  “Do you want to turn back now?” I asked.

  “After seeing that smoke? No chance in hell. I almost wish Eikaro would’ve spared us the trouble and died where we could see him.” He cleared his throat. “Beloved Queen, you were right to urge me to chase after him, but I think I have taken your offer too far. If anything happens to you under my watch, my father will never speak to me again.”

  “Then best we die together,” I said. I dug my heels into my horse to ride ahead of the group. I should’ve known better than to let my guard down. I hadn’t gone five paces from the closest rider when a dragon came hurtling from the trees, dividing me from the rest of the group.

  Chapter Eleven

  Dragon Queen

  The dragon was different from the one that had attacked us at the tower—smaller and gaunter, though it was still larger than my mount, with a tail twice the length of its body. As soon as it landed on the riverbed, it flicked the whip-like appendage straight towards Cho’s horse, wrapping itself around the panicked creature’s torso and lifting it into the air.

  Cho leaped from the saddle and rolled to the ground just as the dragon flung the horse aside. I watched in horror as the screaming animal slammed into the boulders above us. It fell silent immediately, its broken body sliding into the ravine.

  “Get back, Lord Huan!” Seo cried. He came riding around the creature with two spears in his hand. The dragon turned half a circle right before Seo jabbed it under the chin. He left it hanging there as the dragon tried to claw it out, drew back, and pinned the dragon’s tail into the ground with the other spear.

  I almost didn’t see the second dragon.

  I spotted it drifting like a shadow from the corner of my eyes, smaller than the first, but stockier—a definite fire-breather. I yelled for Seo to get back. He turned in shock, managing to block the impending attack with a spear. That was the best he could do—the dragon knocked him off his horse, which bolted straight into the first dragon’s snapping jaws.

  Huan and his guards dove into the fray.

  The third dragon came for Cho.

  By this point, my mind had gone blank. I rode towards him, the spear clenched tightly into the crook of my arm. The horse’s movement caught the dragon’s attention and it went for me. I tugged at the reins, stabbed it in the face, and let go. It struck the spear away easily enough, but the distraction was all I needed. I grabbed Cho by the arm and heaved him onto the saddle.

  The horse protested at the added weight, dancing under me in a huff. As I tried to get her under control, the fourth dragon arrived, lumbering behind its brethren like a bull. I sucked in my breath, realizing we were trapped between the third and fourth dragon. Cho still had his spear, but I didn’t know how well he could use it and I didn’t have room to draw my sword.

  Not that I had any room to think, either. Both dragons attacked at once. I didn’t even have to direct the horse—she went straight for the embankment, dragging us up the boulders. As she dug her hooves into the sandy soil, Cho slipped from the saddle and landed on the ground. A dragon came snapping behind his haunches.

  I held on to his shoulder as the horse struggled on the slope. The dragon hovered over him and opened its mouth. Cho twisted his body around, stabbing its tongue. It hissed. I saw the back of its throat glow. I expected it to flame. Instead, it began to change.

  How do you turn an already-monstrous creature into something more?

  It started with the eyes. Dai should have never used the word mad, because it implied a creature that acted beyond sense—mindless, empty-brained, living only for the thrill of the kill. It was an apt description for the ones we had seen thus far.

  But the change took it from mad into something else. It buckled against its form, fangs lengthening to the size of knives. Coarse hair appeared between its scales and along its forehead. And the eyes, which had always been golden orbs with a single black slit—empty eyes that existed only to direct their bodies to the next target—shifted. The black slits became pinpoints that spread, engulfing the yellow.

  When it turned to me, I realized it was looking at me. It grinned.

  I jumped from the horse in time to avoid the creature from swiping me off its back. Freed from her burden, the horse lunged up the slope without us. I dragged Cho to the side while kicking the rocks from under me. Three more kicks set them loose, tumbling towards the creature’s head in a spray of dust.

  Cho tried to fumble with his spear. “No,” I said, knocking him back. “Run.”

  “I’m done running!” he retorted.

  “You want to fight that?” I pointed at the thing. The rock slide did little to faze it. It was climbing towards us, trying to squeeze its gigantic form through the narrow gap between the trees. Just you wait, its eyes said. Just wait. When I’m done with you…

  I tore myself away from its gaze and the voice stopped. “Cho—” I began, but he wasn’t arguing now. We raced up the slope. When we reached flat ground, we saw the horse waiting for us, nostrils flared in anticipation.

  I wanted to kiss her. I jumped into the saddle, reached down to help Cho up, and even before he could wrap his arms around me, we heard the dragon-beast breathing behind us. We took off into the forest.

  ~~~

  The ridge that had been so narrow when we first crossed the bridge from the dragon-tower now seemed like a wide, endless expanse. Every time I expected to hit the edge of the cliffs, we burst into more open ground. Snow-capped mountains towered around us in shadowed layers.

  Our added weight had worn the mare out and she soon slowed down, her head drifting sideways as if to beg me for mercy. I took a deep breath and dared to look behind. I could see nothing but the swaying trees, and the only sound I could make out was the rustling leaves and birdsong. I forced myself to dismount and motioned for Cho to do the same. The horse grunted her gratitude into my shoulder, nose snuffling up my neck.

  “I think we’ve lost it,” Cho said.

  “For now,” I agreed, patting the mare’s sweaty cheek. I looked around us. “But it seems like we’ve lost ourselves, too.”

  Cho swallowed. “What do we do now?”

  “Find water before this one drops dead from exhaustion. One horse is bad enough. I’m not sure how long we’ll survive on foot.”

  “I’ve heard about your track record with horses,” Cho said. “I feel like we’re doomed either way.”

  I couldn’t exactly disagree with him. We continued walking, eventually stumbling on a small stream that seemed to bubble out of the ground itself. I allowed the mare to drink her fill, se
ttling beside her to do the same. After I had quenched my thirst, I sat down on a rock to wipe the grime from my face. The mare returned to my shoulder with a sigh. I think she liked the spot.

  I continued scratching her cheek, trying to drown my panicked thoughts. I was thankful that the Anyus had half-decent horses in their stables. I’ve known too many mounts that would’ve thrown us off at the first opportunity, straight into the dragon’s snapping jaws. I heard Cho return from making water and watched as he bent over the stream to wash his hands. “It’s getting dark soon. We might as well stay here for the night,” he said. “I don’t want to try to go back only to find out that whole stream’s been turned into a feeding ground.”

  “You’re painting a grim picture.”

  “Well, either they’re dead or they’re not. They’re down at least one more horse, too. If that Seo was killed, they’re doomed. The lordling can’t fight his way out of a basket. Did you see how useless he was during the dragon attack?”

  I had to smile at his assessment of Huan. The Anyu brothers had been trained well enough, but I highly doubted learning how to throw themselves at dragons was high on their father’s list of priorities. “The guards will protect them.”

  “Useless snots,” Cho grumbled.

  “I didn’t exactly see a grand display of dragon-slaying from your part, either.”

  “I don’t come from people who like beating their chests in pride over their mastery of the damn things,” he said. “If we go above the treeline tomorrow morning, do you think we’ll be able to see the tower?”

  “I’m sure we can, but my priority is in continuing on to the caverns. If Eikaro is alive…”

  “You’re kidding,” Cho breathed.

  I stared at him for a moment, allowing the mare to wander down the stream in search of something to eat. “I’m not, Cho. There was a clear sign of him being alive this morning. Unless we know for sure he’s dead, I’m not returning to the tower empty-handed.”

  “You’re mad!” Cho exclaimed. “Damned queen…”

  “I do have a name if that’s too hard for you to say.”

  “What do you even need to find him for? It’s no skin off your back whether he lives or not. He’s not your family. You’re doing this because you’re trying to run away from something.”

  “I’m not in the mood to argue with anyone, Cho.”

  “It’s always about what you want, isn’t it?”

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t think you’re aware of what the word queen means.”

  “Maybe I don’t,” Cho said with a laugh. “What the hell do I know? I’m just some poor kid trying to keep himself alive, and his fool brother too if possible. Hard to do it when some spoiled noblewoman decides she needed us to tag along. If I knew just how much shit you were going to drag us into…”

  “How about you find food instead?” I asked. “Or would you rather send every unholy creature barreling towards us with your yelling?”

  He went off in a huff.

  I took a few moments to gather my patience before joining him in the search. We found that the stream trickled straight into a small pool. Upon further inspection, I saw a school of finger-sized fish, near-translucent in that light. I returned to tie the horse to a nearby tree while Cho waded into the pool to catch the fish. He wasn’t having much luck—the fish darted out of his reach even before he could get close.

  I pulled out a blanket from the saddle bag and handed one end to him. He gave me a doubtful look, which didn’t stray far from the usual expression on his face. I directed him to walk as far as the blanket would let him before allowing it to sink to the bottom of the pool. I held it down with rocks and motioned for him to stand perfectly still. In time, the fish began to swim back around us. Some even went as far as to nibble at my toes. I waited until they were right above the blanket before signalling to Cho. We pulled the blanket up quickly. Water streamed down the sides, taking with it most of the fish, we managed to catch a handful.

  Cho’s face brightened. “Maybe we can build a fire now,” I said as I knotted the ends of the blanket together, draining the rest of the water away. The fish continued to flop around inside.

  He cleared his throat. “I can do that.”

  I glanced at him. “Are we good, Cho?”

  He didn’t answer as he went off to gather sticks.

  I didn’t bother to clean or gut the fingerlings. They were too small, and we had to cook them flat over rocks near the fire. But food was food, and after over a day since our last real meal, the taste of spiny, bland fish was more than welcome. We washed it down with plain water, and when it was all gone, I found myself peering at Cho through the flames. Sated, he looked less irritable.

  “It wasn’t my intention for things to get this far,” I told him.

  He looked at me with a shrug. “It’s not really your fault, anyway. My brother was the one who threw himself at you since the beginning.”

  I rubbed my hands together. They were starting to get cold. “I wouldn’t phrase it that way.”

  “That’s what it looked like to me. Don’t flatter yourself—he’d have done it with anyone who so much as looked like they could use his help. Like how he is with those bandits, wasting all that time with them when he could be trying to get back to Tashi Reng Hzi’s good graces…”

  I nudged a burning ember closer to the fire. “I still don’t understand what exactly happened there.”

  “Isn’t it obvious? Khine blew his exams on purpose. He was angry with Tashi Hzi. For someone who preaches half as much as he does, he’s surprisingly good at sulking.”

  “He didn’t have money to continue his studies because of you.”

  Cho snorted. “If he didn’t fail in the first place, I’m sure Tashi Reng Hzi would’ve let him continue on in Kayingshe. Of course, they weren’t on speaking terms by the time all of that happened. Don’t think any amount of money in the world would’ve gotten Khine back in there. There’s other places he could’ve studied, of course—there’s a place in An Mozhi, too, but none as prestigious as Kayingshe.”

  “I thought he wanted to become a physician. Why would he fail on purpose?”

  “He had a fight with the old man,” Cho replied. “Something to do with that woman of his, Jia. She had a procedure done, with Tashi Reng Hzi as her physician. Khine didn’t find out until it was too late.”

  “Did the procedure involve an unborn child?” I asked.

  Cho gave a small shrug. “So they say. I wouldn’t know.”

  I turned my eyes back to the flickering fire. I had a sudden image of the baker’s daughter, young and pregnant, seeking refuge with her lover’s mentor. Refuge away from Khine? From his anger? But I found it hard to believe he could’ve ever wanted to hurt her.

  “Did you ever meet her?” I asked.

  “Who? Jia?”

  “I assume there was only ever the one her in Khine’s life.”

  Cho snorted. “A few times. I was a kid back then, so I didn’t really pay that much attention. I guess she was all right. Nice chest—” He stopped and for once looked almost embarrassed.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Right.”

  “You’re not my mother. You can’t judge me.”

  “I didn’t say anything. Do…do I seem that old to you?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” Cho said.

  “Do I look old?”

  “You look like a queen.”

  “You said you don’t know what the word means.”

  “You said it. I just agreed with you. Jia’s younger. Maybe she was my age now when Khine met her. I think you were about to ask that next.”

  “I wasn’t,” I mumbled.

  “It looked like it. She was young, but she acted a lot older—one of those women, you know? Khine doted on her. He’d make us wait in the market in the rain when she’s off selling their bread to the vendors, for hours if we had to. So I don’t know why he was the one to drive her away in the end. I don’t think she wanted to leave him, and it
’s not like he stopped loving her. Maybe he was too much. Maybe that frightened her. Khine never did things that made sense to me. I’ve given up trying. I mean, apart from being Jinsein, you’re nothing like Jia—you’re loud and mean, you’re part of the nobility, and you’re married. I don’t know what he sees in you.” He stopped abruptly, as if he had said something he wasn’t supposed to.

  The fire crackled. “What are you talking about?” I found myself asking.

  “Fuck,” Cho grumbled. “Don’t tell me you didn’t know?”

  I stared at him.

  He ran his hands over his head. “After he followed you all this way, and with the way you were dangling yourself in front of him…”

  “I didn’t dangle anything. Your sister asked me to bring him.”

  “You don’t think you would’ve been able to drag him against his will? That man? Honestly. Are all queens this clueless? Khine loves you.”

  Cho spoke as if out of a dream. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” I said. “He can’t love me.” Even my own voice sounded distant. I was watching the scene unfold in front of me, a mere observer who wasn’t allowed to think or feel anything. Remember, I could hear my father’s voice say. You are a wolf of Oren-yaro. You do not bend to mere whimsy. We are swords first, servants first. Stand your ground, Talyien. Remember what happened the last time you got carried away?

  “I told him the exact same thing,” Cho said. “But his damn head is harder than a brick. Nothing good will come out of it, I said. What was he expecting? You were busy searching for your husband, Lo Bahn was breathing down his neck, and—”

  “He said this all the way back in Anzhao?”

  “Not long before we left the city. Look, don’t get me wrong. My brother isn’t—he isn’t trying to get into your pants or anything…I know how he is. So don’t think I’m trying to get you to mellow out on his behalf. He knows this isn’t going to go anywhere. But the way you are, the way you think, he can’t help himself. Some days it seems like you’re all that goes through his mind.” Cho gestured helplessly. “When you both start talking, it’s like you’re in your own little world, and I know maybe that kind of thing is normal for you but I don’t see him get on with people that often. Not even with Lo Bahn and Inzali, and they can get into these long discussions like you won’t believe.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve seen my brother, queen. You understand the sort of man he is.”