by Clark Bolton
“I’ve learned a little bit,” Yi-La admitted.
Master Gang had spent a little time with her on one occasion in order to assess her abilities before deciding to administer the Owesek Oath to her. It had been a kind of formality, she had concluded, since she already wore the ring. But now Master Gang was her formal master, and so here she waited for instruction.
“Yes, Fu-Sa, you have learned,” Narween insisted with some enthusiasm.
Yi-La knew Narween must have been very lonely before her unexpected arrival, and that fact made her smile slightly now as she looked at Narween. At least now the girl had a friend, and someone to share things with, particularly since Narween was not to wed like other graduates of Key-Tar-Om School. It had been with great sadness that Yi-La had learned Narween’s betrothal had been canceled by the Regent of Key-Tar-Om. A life of celibacy was a consequence of being on the sixth-path that all Seechen were forced to endure. It made Yi-La wonder now if her betrothal to Ich-Mek was going to be canceled as well.
“I wish I could teach you something,” Yi-La said absently as she looked around for something to occupy their time. “You deserve to know all the things you were taught wrong.”
Narween shook her head vigorously. “Please, no, Fu-Sa!”
__________________________
Stunned, Yi-La stood frozen after an unfamiliar door slid open before her and Narween. Within was Master Gang, though his back was to her, working at a long table filled with all kinds of alchemy vessels, some boiling and spouting colored smoke. What’s more there were four or five Seechen clearly assisting him on some large endeavor. She knew each Seechen had his or her own area of expertise in magecraft, including alchemy, but this was the first time she had seen any at work.
Narween gently encouraged Yi-La to move closer to Master Gang before stepping up to announce that Yi-La had arrived. Master Gang simply nodded his head slightly as he continued to work at the table. Yi-La couldn’t tell for sure what the elderly mage was working on from where she stood, but didn’t quite have the nerve to step up to the table.
“Watch them, Yi-La…” Master Gang said suddenly without first looking at her. “…They pontificate unnecessarily…it can have unwanted consequences.”
Yi-La looked at the Seechen on the far side of the table then smiled at them meekly. She had no idea what her master meant by this, but it did look like the Seechen knew. They seemed to be smirking back at her.
“Yes, master,” Yi-La replied as she desperately tried to figure out if it was best for her to walk around the table, and so be closer to the instruments the Seechen were handling.
She could see Master Gang glance at her as she began walking slowly to make her way to where she would be directly across the table from him. “Don’t be shy with them,” Gang told her as he lowered his gaze back down to the table, “…nor forgiving.”
“Yes, master,” she said as she began to sweat.
Master Gang’s multicolored robes were in great contrast to the dull black of the Seechen, and the way their veils and hoods hid their faces cast an even stronger contrast, and actually made them look a bit animalistic, she thought. Glancing at Narween for support, she was reminded by Narween’s hood and veil that the girl, too, was one of the potential pontificators.
“You have brewed Naralok potions before?” Gang eventually asked.
Yi-La froze for a moment as she tried her best to recall the name. “No, master,” she finally admitted.
Gang looked at her with a frown before asking, “Some girls of Key-Tar-Om step out, do they not?”
Yi-La shook her head, though in truth she wasn’t sure what he was alluding to, and it didn’t help when he went on to say, “In my time they did…below the squares. Naralok potions were always passed around…or so I was told.”
She still wasn’t sure, and this new casual demeanor coming out of her master was confusing, and she very much wanted now to ask Narween what he was asking of her. However, Narween seemed to be wincing, and obviously wasn’t going to volunteer to say anything.
“I don’t know about that, master,” Yi-La said softly.
Gang looked dissatisfied with the response, and so pressed her with more questions. He apparently was under the assumption that the girls of Key-Tar-Om stepped out with the boys in a way that Yi-La took to be scandalous. Chastity was one of the pillars of feminine behavior among those who sought to be dragon-mages, as well as any girl of Ibu-Jek, as far as Yi-La was concerned.
“This is for Her Esteemed Ladyship,” Gang told her as he motioned toward a tiny empty vial, which Yi-La assumed would be the repository for the potion they were brewing. “It requires my personal attention.”
“Yes, master.”
Gang glared at her before adding, “I expect you to handle Her Esteemed Ladyship’s next request for Naralok.”
A wave of panic swept across Yi-La as she stared down at the countless array of instruments, tubes and flasks before her and about the room. Most were familiar to her in some way, but she couldn’t fathom where possibly to start on such a task. It didn’t help that Narween looked flabbergasted as well.
“A pregnancy wouldn’t go unnoticed by His Imperial Majesty,” Gang warned her sternly. “…Particularly if it’s a skut!” This last comment produced chuckles from all the Seechen in the room, save Narween. “I don’t relish sitting through a coronation of a new royal consort.”
“Yes, master,” Yi-La replied as she tried to put this all in perspective.
Gang smiled at her before saying, “Nor do I wish such a death on the present royal consort, of course.”
Yi-La looked around at the faces in the room, and each one seemed to be smiling at her knowingly. “I don’t understand, master,” Yi-La finally admitted.
“A skut?” Gang asked in apparent disbelief at her ignorance. “It’s a bastard dracomon that eats its mother from the inside out.”
Yi-La’s face turned a deep red as her master laughed along with the Seechen.
__________________________
The rigors of alchemy the day before had made this break in one of the mage-quarter’s gardens particularly welcome to Yi-La and Narween. They sat nestled between several charcoal-colored buildings that marked them as mage-quarter buildings, or Chey, as they were called here. They chatted and both seemed to be avoiding the subject of magecraft, which was a respite Yi-La was very thankful for. It had been over a moon now since her arrival, and for the first time she was starting to feel like she just maybe could fit in here.
Such thoughts disappeared in an instant when a far-off wailing sound began that then slowly increased in volume. Soon other noises could be heard including the panicked calls of people. Both Yi-La and Narween took notice of this at the same time, and stood up to see what the commotion was. They could see guards running now, down the cobbled walkways that crisscrossed the mage-quarter as the noises continued to intensify.
“Ohhh!” Yi-La exclaimed as she hunkered down instinctively with Narween, against some unidentifiable terror that seemed suddenly imminent.
Narween pointed toward the nearest Chey building and they prepared to run toward it just as people came running by, yelling almost incomprehensibly. Only the word dragon seemed to stick in Yi-La’s mind as they started running with the crowd.
But before they got far, a shadow fell across the sky, and with it came a truly mind-numbing terror that caused everyone to scatter, with each running senselessly in their own direction.
Breathless, Yi-La finally got ahold of herself after several minutes and so began searching out Narween in the scatter of people about the gardens. They soon found each other and for a moment hugged, with each trembling enough for the other to notice.
“What happened?” Yi-La asked as she let Narween wipe tears from both their eyes.
Narween nodded her understanding of the situation as she declared, “One of the dragons has come. It is the dragon-sickness we feel.”
“Is it still here?” Yi-La asked with concern a
s she thought how best to hide from such a beast.
“Yes…it is the Imperial-Chancellor, I think,” Narween replied, then paused for a moment before adding fearfully, “or maybe His Imperial Majesty, Fu-Sa.”
Yi-La sat down on a bench to let the information sink in. On the one hand, she felt like running to her quarters and hiding under her bed, but she also had, oddly, been hoping to get this moment over with. If it was the Emperor, then an audience might be imminent.
“They’re both dragons— I mean, dracomon?” Yi-La asked as she fidgeted nervously. “I mean, I know His Imperial Majesty and source-of-golden-light is one, but…”
Narween nodded her understanding. “Both are Fu-Sa.” Then she added in a whisper, “The Imperial-Chancellor is a eunuch!”
“Really!” Yi-La exclaimed, now feeling the terror that had earlier gripped them fade.
“He lives in the Forbidden-Gardens,” Narween informed her as she pointed to the high wall hardly a stone’s throw away. “Only he and the other eunuchs can enter.”
Yi-La had seen plenty of eunuchs since coming to the inner-city. They administered nearly all things within, it seemed, and their yellow robes could be easily spotted even now. Looking to the small gate that faced the mage-quarter, she could clearly make out the red-washed stone of the steps leading up to it.
“Do they really execute any men that step on the red?” Yi-La asked Narween, not for the first time.
“Yes, Fu-Sa!”
Yi-La watched figures moving atop the wall of the Forbidden-Gardens and knew by the yellow uniforms that these were armed eunuchs – only to be found in the Forbidden-Gardens, it was said. Their numbers suggested that they too had been greatly disturbed by the dragon’s arrival, as normally only two or three could be seen near the mage-quarter’s small gate. She had never seen the gate open in the short time she had been here, and now very much wanted to peek in. The terror within her had now been transformed into an almost morbid curiosity.
“Have you ever been through those gates?” Yi-La asked excitedly as she stood to get a better look.
“No, no Seechen has ever seen them open, Fu-Sa.”
Yi-La knew the mage-gate was a simple side-gate of the Forbidden-Gardens that was likely all but unknown to the resident consorts within; still, she had to ask, “But you’re a girl, so if they did open, you could go in, right?”
The conversation ended abruptly when both of them saw the gate swing wide open, letting yellow-robed figures flood out and start streaming toward the main Chey building.
__________________________
Yi-La and Narween had chosen to remain partially hidden in the garden alongside the main Chey building, despite a strong curiosity concerning what must be happening within. With a sinking feeling, Yi-La watched a group of highly agitated Seechen that were standing near a small open door to the structure. More and more often they glanced her way, and now Narween was standing in full view of them.
“I think they are looking for you, Fu-Sa,” Narween said in a worried voice.
“They know I’m here,” Yi-La replied slowly as she continued to crouch down on a stone bench.
Finally, the inevitable happened, and so a swarm of Seechen hurried toward Yi-La, intent on taking her in. She didn’t object as she knew that would be pointless, and so let them tug and gently shove her along until she was inside the Chey. Every Seechen she knew seemed to be lining the narrow corridor here, and all were looking expectantly at her.
Like a line of jailers, they ushered her from one to another toward voices ahead. Before her now was a long line of yellow robes, along with a few Seechen, running down the large hall that was the entryway of the building. Chief among them was an imposing figure that stood a head taller than anyone else. A great arching hat adorned the man’s head, and immediately Yi-La noted the hat’s resemblance to the one Mage-Chancellor Pesnu-Jok wore. In this case the headpiece was much larger, and yellow instead of the Seechen black.
“Your Excellency…” Pesnu-Jok exclaimed toward the tall man when he caught sight of Yi-La, “…here is the young dragon-mage herself!”
Yi-La resisted for a moment as Pesnu-Jok rushed over and attempted to pull her out of the crowd of Seechen. It was bewildering and a bit frightening to have all these officials staring at her; so much so that she barely caught the gist of Pesnu-Jok’s frantic whispers into her ear.
“Bow your head to the floor, and remain there until the Imperial-Chancellor tells you to rise!” Pesnu-Jok hissed.
She had been pulled, now, by the head Seechen several steps into the hall, and here she thought to follow his frantic orders. Kneeling, she then pressed her head to the marble floor and waited. A great silence then came over the hall, which seemed to her to go on and on.
“Oh, you are a pretty thing!” came the most gravelly voice Yi-La had ever heard, “and so young.” The voice grew louder as the Imperial-Chancellor came to stand over her.
“She is, Your Excellency,” Pesnu-Jok said in a strained tone.
There was a brief silence in which Pesnu-Jok took a step back from beside her. Yi-La could see this from the corner of her eye, and now had the impression Pesnu-Jok wanted to be here in front of the Imperial-Chancellor about as much as she wanted to be.
“Do you think so, Mage-Chancellor?” the Imperial-Chancellor spat toward Pesnu-Jok, who took yet another step back.
“I…do…” Pesnu-Jok stammered before being cut off.
“That is you, Jok, under that hood,” the Imperial-Chancellor demanded to know in a booming voice, “or is there a grieving widow among us?” The tone was of a mocking nature, Yi-La was almost sure. “Some funeral poetry for us, Mage-Chancellor. That must be what you’re spouting through that veil. Yes?”
“I apologize sincerely, Your Excellency,” Pesnu-Jok replied meekly with head bowed.
Yi-La had the sense now that the crowd of eunuchs in the hall were softly snickering at Pesnu-Jok’s predicament. Oddly, this respite from attention on her was starting to calm her a little, she realized.
“Take off that hood and mask, man…” The Imperial-Chancellor commanded, before adding, “…if that is indeed what you are!”
The last statement must have seemed like a joke to the eunuchs in the room, and so some outwardly chuckled. Yi-La could not resist the temptation to turn her head a nearly imperceptible amount to see if the great Mage-Chancellor was actually going to comply with this seemingly humiliating command. He promptly did, with an even deeper bow.
“Anybody recognize him?” the Imperial-Chancellor asked absently as he turned his attention back to the crouching dragon-mage before him.
The room was silent, and for an instant Yi-La forced herself to have sympathy for Pesnu-Jok, if for no other reason than to take her mind off her own situation. Seechen, it was said, never revealed their faces to anyone, so she could only imagine the mental anguish Pesnu-Jok was going through.
“Rise, dragon-mage!” the Imperial-Chancellor commanded in a jovial voice.
Yi-La had just started to rise when two great paw-like hands reached down to grasp both her upper arms and lift her effortlessly to her feet. One hand had been horribly damaged, she could see: the two smallest fingers were missing at their first joints as if something had cut them off. On top of this, great pits dotted the back of the hand; seemingly deep enough to almost burst through to the palm.
“A girl this is indeed, my lost-men,” the Imperial-Chancellor said boastfully to the eunuchs gathered about him. “Introduce us, Chancellor Jok,” he said with a hint of impatience.
Pesnu-Jok cleared his throat several times before stating loudly, “Your Excellency, may I present the dragon-mage, Yi-La of Key-Tar-Om.”
“You may,” the Imperial-Chancellor replied with just a hint of a nod to Yi-La.
Clearing his throat again Pesnu-Jok went on to say, “Fu-Sa Yi-La, allow me to introduce His Excellency, Imperial-Chancellor Tu-Dak-Po.”
Yi-La couldn’t very well bow with the way the huge man was still
grasping her, so she did her best by bowing her head as much as she was able. She intended to keep her head bowed until told otherwise, but was then forced to meet the dracomon’s gaze when Tu-Dak-Po literally lifted her off the floor to bring her face to face with him.
His gaze pierced through her just as something in the back of her mind warned her not to think of anything. It was difficult though, and soon she felt every conscious thought that came into her mind seemly flow toward these haunting eyes. For some reason, Yi-La couldn’t think of anything now but Pun-Domt, her ring. Master Gang had told her that like all Owesek-rings, the one she wore had a name given to it by its creator, the legendary mage Ustclostefey. The name was inscribed on the inside of the ring, her master had told her, and he had been told it by Master Huehan, its previous owner.
“A dragon-mage indeed,” Tu-Dak-Po said gently as he set Yi-La down, releasing her from his grasp.
“Yes, Your Excellency,” Yi-La said meekly as she kept her eyes down.
“Speak up, Fu-Sa Yi-La!” Tu-Dak-Po commanded. “My ears are not so focused in these times.”
Having said that, Tu-Dak-Po exposed his right ear by parting his grayish hair and lifting his hat slightly. All the eunuchs laughed as one, for a great scar adorned the Chancellor’s head where an ear should have been. Even his face was heavily scarred, Yi-La now realized, though most of this fact was hidden by his long beard. Strangely, the laughter put her at ease enough to look up and take this all in.
“Sorry, Your Excellency,” Yi-La finally had the nerve to say a little louder.
“Yes, now where are your masters? It pains me to think Chancellor Jok is lingering about unwatched.” As Tu-Dak-Po said this he motioned to one of his attending eunuchs to come close. “I desire to hand this gift off to a dragon-mage. Seems Her Esteemed Ladyship is displeased by the chain of possession.”