by Paul Heisel
She was cold enough that it made her shiver and she resisted using magic to shield her from the chill. It made her feel alive and awake even though she was exhausted. The whole evening inside the palace she spent trying to convince Yuki that Djaa was cheating and there needed to be an investigation. Yuki didn’t believe her, and now he was denying her access to the Crypt and stopped just short of banning her from the event in total. Her honest intentions went awry. Maybe Yuki would be more reasonable tomorrow after he had time to think on it – that was her hope. Thoroughly chilled, she went inside her quarters where it was warmer. She wasn’t sure how this had become her home, but it was more than that, it was her haven. The room was ample enough, too big in her opinion. Her clothes were laid out for the next day, a servant did it automatically for her, paired with the black suit that she came to rely on as her second skin. She often wondered if it could be made to be tougher, but still flexible. She wanted every advantage she could get.
She pulled off what remained of her clothes and slipped under the covers. This was a comfortable bed, far more luxurious than what she had slept on for the whole of her life. The palace had too many comforts that she was getting accustomed to, and what worried her was her acceptance of it. As a member of the Accord of the Hand, she had slept in the barracks on a simple pallet, had worn basic monk clothes, and had spent her time working and training. The only thing that was consistent was her training. She did spend much of her time refining her chi, Pearl had taught her techniques, and the remaining free time she spent practicing her fighting and weapon skills. Owori thought she was a better warrior than protector, yet she was given the task of protecting a man who had enough protectors already – Qia and Qio. Yuki didn’t need her. She was bound to the belt, though, and would be for life. There was no way to break the binding, and with that thought, she went to sleep.
The next morning, she was up early for a training session, attended to her normal daily duties and held meetings with the Dragonguards, then went to the Crypt of Warlords. The nearby pavilions were being cleaned and the refuse disposed of, while the guards remained outside of the opening to restrict anyone from entering. She figured she was going to have to blink to get by the guards. The issue she faced was the snow and the cold revealing her presence. Even as she stood there, blasts of steam came out from her breathing, another thing to give her away. Winter arrived early and it was here to stay.
The sky was cloudy this morning, insulating the Crypt area in an eerie calm. There was an underlying serenity and a smell in the air that hinted of more snow. She went back to the palace, resumed her duties, and continued with her day. She read the new reports being gathered by her Dragonguards about the comings and goings of palace based guests. Nothing caught her eye. By noon the clouds darkened and the snow came down in flurries. People still came to pay their respects to the Emperor despite the bad weather, and soon Yuki would seal the palace for the funeral. The pyre the body laid upon would be lit, the body burned, and the ashes collected. Owori guessed with this weather they would need additional fuel to get the fire going.
With the snow coming down so hard now, she decided it was time to enter the Crypt of Warlords to see if she could get through the portal. She didn’t want to go alone, but didn’t see how she could bring a helper with her. The guards had new orders to be more vigilant. She needed Feln’s help because he could blink, but he was locked up during the off days. She couldn’t think of an easy way to get him out of there, besides, it would raise suspicions. This would have to wait until tomorrow when Feln was free to help her. Caleth was fighting against Watahon, the champion from Emesia, and Djaa and his helpers were fighting against the other remaining man standing, the last fighter from Furawa. The four would become two. Then there would only be one, and if it was the wrong person, Feln would be dead.
#
The blanket of snow hampered everything. It was more than a foot deep and the temperature dipped well below freezing. The tents sagged from the weight of the snow, only the temporary support columns kept them from collapsing. Soldiers worked to clear the paths and clear the tops of the tents, but the accumulated amount of snow piled up was staggering. Yuki closed off access to the palace, so no more visitors would be coming to see the Emperor. There were crowds still streaming toward the palace, though, only to be turned away at the gates.
Owori was waiting outside for Feln and his contingent to arrive, the cold trying to seep through. She used her shield not to keep cold out but warmth in, and it worked well. Workers stoked the fires and brought more wood, trying to heat things up before the masses arrived. In the distance, she could see the two guards in front of the Crypt performing their duty. She had a diversion in mind and she hoped the simple plan would be enough to get her inside the Crypt. On her belt was a bag of rice, a piece of the mystery that she had figured out from the word ‘offer’. The spirits commented about the poor offer, the single grain of rice. This would appease them, she hoped, and would allow her entry.
Workers were preparing now that the snow was clear. Carts of food were coming from the kitchens, and wagons of drink were on their way to replenish what had been drunk two days ago. Owori figured hot tea would be popular today. She tired of waiting for Feln and began to wander through the tents, pretending to inspect things either for security or safety. Nothing was out of the ordinary that she could see. People started coming to the pavilions, all were bundled up in thick coats or warm fur-lined jackets. She imagined many would forgo today’s events because of the weather, not wanting to brave the cold and the new snow. As more and more people showed up, she began to think that she was wrong – it appeared that few were staying away. Both bouts would be in the late afternoon, hours from now, giving everyone ample time to eat and drink. The diehard socialites were going to make the best of it and the wine started flowing early. This was why there were days in between the matches, so the nobles could recover from the indulgences, not so the prospective Warlords could heal their wounds.
She was near the Shisaru tent when she saw a group coming toward her. Her eyes went from face to face, trying to see if Suun was amongst them or if Djaa had come out early to prepare. She didn’t see Suun or Djaa, so she kept moving to keep out of the way. Everyone was bundled up tight, though difficult to be fashionable in such clothes, there were nobles who were trying their best to stand out. It was nonsense to her, though living in the palace had given her an appreciation for the political aspect of appearance. If you looked the part, then people believed you.
“Hey darling, it’s a bit early for your duties, don’t you think?”
Owori turned toward the voice, it was Suun. There were other harlots there, as well as the same group of nobles Suun was spending time with.
“My work is never done,” Owori answered. “As to the timing of my duties, that isn’t for you to decide.”
“The Emperor’s Fury. Someone told us that’s who you are.”
Suun was wearing a warm fur lined coat that went to mid-thigh, her bare legs were exposed except for the fur boots she had on. Her face was painted again, like the other women hanging off the Shisaru nobles. One of the men had his hand on Suun’s shoulder. Owori wasn’t sure where this conversation was going or if it was going to have any use, but she needed to talk to Suun to verify her theory about the Crypt of Warlords. Time was running out.
Suun turned to her companion and said, “She keeps looking at my legs.”
The group laughed. The man’s arm went from Suun’s shoulder to around her waist. Suun shifted and leaned against him.
Owori took a step forward to see what their reaction would be. One of the men overreacted at the movement, that’s what she was looking for, and she noted the tenseness despite the playful atmosphere that started the conversation. He looked concerned that she made a move, no matter how innocent. Before he recovered, Suun stepped toward Owori as if to intercept her. They were the same height and were about the same build, just dressed differently, and Suun had on that gaudy
makeup. Now what in shades was she going to do?
“Come, have some fun with us,” Suun said. “Show us your tattoos. They must be interesting.”
“They’re called marks.” Owori batted away Suun’s hand as it drifted toward her shoulder.
“Watch it Fury,” the aggressive man said. The crowd tensed.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Suun said. “Come on, we’re fun to be around. Have some drinks and show us your tattoos.”
“Not today,” Owori said. She watched the others. They were on the defensive.
Suun grasped Owori’s hand and tugged weakly. Without thought, Owori pulled Suun, twisted her around, and sent her sprawling into the group. Either Suun was surprised or acting, but she went to the ground, shapely legs going everywhere. Ignoring the comments and the fuming group, Owori turned on her heels. She wasn’t going to learn anything from Suun, not now. She hoped, though, that she had helped Suun’s activities with the Shisaru nobles.
“That’s right, run away,” she heard Suun yell. “Go find a friend, if you even have one! I have lots of friends! You have no friends!”
Ignoring the barrage of insults that followed, Owori made it back to the Safun pavilion where things were subdued. Everyone here was covered from head to toe in coats and furs, including Feln. He looked stately in the coat the palace gave him. The silence reminded her that Caleth was their only chance to put a sympathetic Warlord in power, and with Djaa cheating, they wouldn’t be able to win no matter how much they prepared Caleth. She had to find a way to get inside the Crypt of Warlords and figure this out. Feln greeted her with a frail smile. She was sure that he was still somber from Nar’s death. Owori couldn’t imagine what Suun was feeling, having to pretend and having it not affect her took incredible strength. They sat down in the middle of the pavilion near the crackling fire, taking in the warmth.
“Suun isn’t going to be able to help us,” Owori said. “It’s too dangerous for her to talk to me. Don’t look at me like that,” she told Feln. “I know you didn’t send her away.”
“We’ll have to trust what she’s doing is in the best interests of the family.” Feln looked at the red lanterns. “I can’t imagine what these red lanterns are for. They make us stand out.”
“I don’t have much to go on, but I think I can figure things out if I can get into the Crypt. I’ll go back into the Crypt and give it a try. Feln, I’ll need your help. We’ll also need a distraction to occupy the guards. That’s our first challenge.”
“Leave that to us,” Pearl said. “Ryl and I can handle that. It’ll be good, just tell us what you have in mind. I don’t need to remind you that if you’re caught, this will all be over fast.”
“We have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Are you ready?” Feln asked.
“I have everything we need.”
“Then let’s hear it.”
“Here’s what we’ll have to do.”
#
Feln and Owori slipped by the Crypt guards, the distraction was simple but memorable. The central tent came loose, scattering the people, and part of the structure fell over into the snow. When the structure hit the snow, Ryl must have used her magic to embellish the impact, because snow flew everywhere and created a whiteout in front of the Crypt. The resulting commotion was enough to make the guards cover their faces for protection. They didn’t leave their post, but weren’t able to detect Feln and Owori slipping inside the Crypt.
They were in the darkness, Owori leading the way, their hands intertwined. They were in this together, for better or worse. After they were farther underground, they lit a lantern which guided them to the black portal. Owori took the bag of rice and poured it on the table, then used her hand to smooth it into the depressions. She could feel the magic arrive, then the rice disappeared when she reached out her hand toward the blackness.
Better offer.
Still, she must be cast aside.
She serves the Emperor.
The binding remains.
Do not let her inside, she is not the one.
Her intentions are…intriguing.
A better offer, let her pass.
The binding prevents us!
We could break it.
Why would we do that?
Persistence.
Let her do it on her own.
Then let her remember the assassin.
#
Feln watched as Owori crumpled. He caught her in his arms and laid her on the ground, keeping her head protected. It only took a second and she wasn’t successful, as this was what had happened before. He held her and stroked her hair, it didn’t have the length she liked, he knew that, but it accentuated her pretty features. Here she was, doing everything in her power to help him survive, and she was doing it without question and against the Emperor’s wishes. Her love for him had to be more powerful than magic.
She woke, not with a start, but with a slight smile. “I know what’s preventing me from entering the portal. It’s because I’m bound to the Emperor’s belt. Without that connection, I could enter. They mentioned the assassin again. Suun. She can help me break the binding.”
It made him feel hollow. He had instructed Suun to give his belt to Owori in hopes of breaking the connection, but she had refused. Breaking the binding would free her to be with him, and it would help foil Djaa’s plans. Breaking the binding, though, would put her in unknown danger deeper inside the Crypt. That made him feel worse, but they were running out of time and choices. If Caleth didn’t win his match against Watahon, though, nothing would matter. Besides that, Suun had the belt and wasn’t going to give it up. For all he knew, she had hidden it far away. Suun’s response to his command was a miscalculation on his part. He failed and should have taken it back from her.
“We have a theoretical way to break the connection,” Feln said. “It involves a Most Favored belt.”
“How? When?”
“Pearl believes the unmarked Furies who have been wreaking havoc have a Most Favored belt. They break bonds by having Furies put on the belt. We don’t know what else must happen to break the magical connection. It’s a theory.”
“So if I put on your belt that will break the bond?”
“There is another trigger. We don’t know what that is. It’s not just the magic of the Most Favored belt that breaks the binding.”
“Can you give me your belt and we can try?”
Feln dipped his head. “I gave it to Suun. She was supposed to give to you if anything happened to me. I hoped while I was held in the palace these last several weeks that she would give it to you. She refuses because you’re a Fury. There’s deep resentment and suspicion that you’ll become insane and turn into a monster.”
“I understand your intentions,” Owori said. “But why didn’t you give it to me yourself?”
“They were taking me away and I thought it would be safest with Suun. I didn’t know if I was going to the dungeons or if the Emperor was going to have me killed. I made a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? You’re going to be dead if we don’t stop Djaa! The only way we can stop him is if I can get inside the Crypt!”
“If I can find Suun, I can demand that she give the belt back to me, force her. I’ll have to find her first.”
“I’ll take care of it, I know where she is. Feln, we’ve run out of time. I won’t be able to get inside today. Djaa is going to win his fight whether we like it or not.”
“So will Caleth,” Feln said. “I know he will. He has to.”
“Let’s get out of here.”
#
Because there were only four left, the champions of each season, the bouts were scheduled one in the afternoon and one in the evening. Caleth and Watahon were first, followed by Djaa and the man from Furawa. The atmosphere was festive despite the snowy, cold weather. The gates to the palace were closed and the pyre for the Emperor prepared for the funeral. Shortly after the new Warlord was introduced, they would proceed with the cremation and inductio
n of Yuki as Emperor. It would also culminate with Feln’s death or liberation.
Feln tried his best to relax, but found it impossible to take his mind off the upcoming events. Caleth was to fight the brute Watahon, Hiru’s monkey. Those who were defeated by him, save Gargam, gave them information on his style, strengths, and weaknesses. Watahon was a good fighter and most proficient with a katana, his weapon of choice. As he sat there, Feln watched Caleth prepare. His former master was meditating, calming himself and making ready for the battle ahead. There was a call for the first bout and everyone stood up. The group followed Caleth to the main pavilion where the crowd was assembled. The main aisle was clear enough to walk untouched. Once they made it to the front, they let Caleth go ahead while they took seats near the Emperor’s section. Feln could see that Yuki looked tired, yet he maintained a royal countenance for the proceedings. The cloud cover drifted away and it stopped snowing, causing the temperature to dip further. Servants cleared away the snow from the stone and the golden circle as best they could. Caleth and Watahon stood across from each other waiting for the magic to invoke. Feln glanced across the way. Hiru and Iristi were there waiting in anticipation. They looked cold, both inside and out. With a flash, Caleth and Watahon disappeared. Feln closed his eyes and wrung his hands together.