by JC Kang
He could go east to the Wall, or west to the human village, and find out more about himself; yet here he was, trapped in a village in the trees. Spending each day sparring with elves who wanted to see if he was as good as Kiri said. At times, he’d accompany Kiri and her little sister Kala when they gathered spring shoots and searched for mushrooms. Perhaps eventually, he would know enough about safe food to set off on his own, but in the meantime…
Wait, his hosts said.
Wait for what? Feneyas swiped an arrow out of the air and tracked it back to its origin.
Dior grinned. “I was aiming to miss, anyway!”
Perhaps. No matter what good hosts the elves were, they still made him wait, all to maintain a charade.
Proper channels, Kiri had said. The elves fed the native humans’ superstitions, tricking them into believing they were spirits. It seemed like a dishonest means of control, but Kiri claimed it was for everyone’s protection. The elves stayed out of sight, while the local humans, who called themselves Kanin, made regular requests to the messengers of the gods.
Over the last several days, the requests had multiplied. Small forest animals came by, visiting Nayori, the older woman who had healed him. Powerful in magic, the elf was the closest thing to the wild elves’ leader, at least as far as he could tell. The birds and squirrels apparently delivered requests from Kanin tribal shamans.
Feneyas snorted. As if animals could talk.
He used the arrow he’d caught to barely brush aside another sword thrust. A woman this time, who moved faster than any of the men thus far. He punched and thrust and tried to grab her, but Layani avoided all of his attacks with effortless grace. Her blade swirled in elegant twists and arcs, all of which missed.
On purpose. He raised his hands in surrender and bowed.
She was better. Maybe not in overall technique, but her speed and reflexes were like…memories of a brown-skinned man with a curved, guardless sword flashed in his head.
There was a name to the handsome face with its pointed beard. It taunted Feneyas’ conscious mind, just out of reach.
He looked up at Layani, her expression as mirthless as always. “How do you move so fast?”
She shrugged. “You are just slow.”
The spectators all burst out laughing, though none of them had even presented a credible challenge.
Kiri shook her head, even as the sides of her eyes crinkled. “No, Feneyas, it’s her gift.”
“Gift?”
“Martial magic,” Dior said. “Some of us have it, some don’t. Unlike our supposedly civilized brethren, we can’t use all forms of magic.”
Layani glared at Dior, then offered Feneyas a rare smile. “We are among the tribes which didn’t believe Aralas was an angel sent by Koralas. Our ancestors didn’t answer his call before the War of Ancient Gods. Nor did we leave our forest homes when his son became king of Aramysta and his daughter queen of Aerilysta. Unlike our kin, who have idle time to pursue a vast array of skills, we spend many of our waking hours providing for the village.”
The fairy tale, or perhaps history, sounded familiar. A half-sized man with scruffy hair and mischievous eyes dashed through Feneyas’ memory before he could catch it.
Nayori’s voice danced in the tree tops. “Feneyas, come.”
Yes, he was a pet. The fluffy white temple dog barked in his memories, but still gave him no sense of who he was or why a temple was important to him.
On instinct, he looked up to the voice. Just as each time before, there was nothing but the sun peeking in from the budding branches of countless trees. Magic, Kiri had said. Bending limbs to the elves’ fancy and creating an illusion for the rare passerby who glanced up.
She took him by the hand, as was her wont. Hers was warm and moist, her grin perky. She was always jovial, with a tongue as sharp as a dao, at least if he didn’t try to bring up her past. She seemed so familiar; just being with her invoked a sense of comfort and contentment. The Warrior From Beyond the Wall must’ve had a younger sister in his former life.
Kiri pulled him toward the tree, the one with invisible stairs encircling it. He could only climb it with his eyes closed, lest he trip and fall.
Seventeen steps above the ground, the tree branch steps materialized around him. No matter how many times he climbed the stairs, the transition from nothingness to solidity was disconcerting.
At the top, on the village gathering platform, Nayori sat on a gnarled knot, holding a haughty chipmunk in her palm. As it chattered away, she nodded.
Feneyas exchanged glances with Kiri, who just added a shrug to her mischievous smile.
Nayori’s gaze then lifted to meet his. “Feneyas, the eyes and ears of the forest have told us the Metal Men are marching in greater numbers than ever before, heading west. The village shamans have all requested the gods to send the Warrior Beyond the Wall to teach them to fight.”
Feneyas nodded. “I want to go west. I want to meet other humans. Maybe they can tell me who I am.”
Her eyes, seas of liquid brown, searched his. She hefted the chipmunk, who afforded Feneyas a smug look. “My little friend here comes from the Maki tribal lands. He tells me there is a shaman who claims he can tell you who you are.”
Chapter 13:
Resolve
The roaring falls of the North Kanin River poured into the Hua basin, drowning out all other sounds as Kaiya climbed from the palanquin. Along with Fang Weiyong and six provincial soldiers as escort, she made her way up the cliff path toward the Zheng family temple. The late afternoon sun danced in the falls’ mist, forming a shimmering rainbow above the rocks.
Even with Fang Weiyong’s support, her chest heaved as she fought for each breath. Pregnant, anemic, she struggled to climb the trail. If this short trip drained her, how could she hope to escape and make the three-day journey to the capital?
Weiyong apparently shared the same doubts. “Dian-xia, perhaps you should continue in the palanquin.”
It was a sound suggestion, but Lady Zheng apparently wanted to make her trip as difficult as possible. The palanquin bearers waited at the bottom of the cliff. She shook her head and continued toward the flat bluffs halfway up.
Like the road, Zhengguang Temple was carved into the cliff face. Grateful to reach the waterfall pool overlook, Kaiya paused under the sloping tile eaves, which sparkled with condensation and sunlight. Heads turned and lips moved among the couple dozen common folk, and like a wave, they all sank to their knees.
It would not do to let them see her so haggard. Kaiya straightened her back and lifted her chin. She turned to the provincial soldiers. “Wait here. Weiyong, come with me.”
The soldiers all bowed and held back.
Summoning all her grace, she glided through the red columns and into the temple. Trickles of smoke wafted from burning incense, cloying the air with a sweet fragrance. Light bauble braziers stood partially shuttered, casting the central chamber in a warm golden glow.
Several priests knelt and chanted before the Zheng family altar. Kaiya approached them, passing between two enormous statues holding silent vigil at the sides of the broad chamber. On the left stood Lord Guan, patron saint of warriors and guardian of the East Gate Province. Chest jutted out, he held a halberd whose haft touched the tiled ground and whose blade tip reached the vaulting ceiling. Wu-Long, the Dragon Protector of Hua, faced him, coiling up from floor to roof.
One of the priests met her gaze. Word of her arrival passed among them, and they all turned in place and pressed their foreheads to the ground.
Kaiya’s voice caught in her throat, and she had to clear it. “Rise.” Her own voice sounded weak in her ears.
They all came out of their bows. The abbot rose to his feet and approached with his eyes politely averted. “Dian-xia, thank you for gracing us with your presence in this trying time. Did you come to pray for our soldiers?”
Kaiya nodded. “Yes. And while I pray, bring me the tablet of Zheng Tian, fourth son of Lord Zheng Han.”
The abbot looked at her, his eyes searching hers in a display of impudence.
In the past, she might have feigned anger. Instead, she kept her voice level. “That is my command.”
The abbot bowed and disappeared down a passageway behind the altar, hustling into the temple’s depths.
She took several steps forward and bowed before the altar. All this time, she’d played games, planning and plotting ways to legitimize her children. She was no better than the ambitious lords and ministers who jockeyed for power back at court. Perhaps the gods were punishing her.
It was time to make things right. After praying for the Hua soldiers’ safety, she silently asked for forgiveness of the gods, and also of her true husband, Tian.
Outside the temple, at the edge of her hearing, a commotion broke out over the din of chanting monks and the raging waterfall. Before she could turn to see the source, the abbot returned with a hand-sized tablet.
Kaiya received it in two hands with her head bowed. All it took was a cursory scan to see Tian’s birth name engraved. Was that a clenching of her stomach as she ran a finger across his birth and death dates?
In the only twelve days since he’d sacrificed himself so she could escape Geros, she’d abandoned his memory. She looked up and met the abbot’s gaze. “You are not to tell anyone I have this.”
“As the princess commands.” He pressed his palms together and bowed.
Soft footsteps behind her drew her attention. She turned around to find Lady Zheng, dressed in silken riding robes, kneeling on the tile floor. Weiyong bowed low in apology.
“Lady Zheng,” Kaiya said, “please rise.”
The woman’s eyes focused on Kaiya’s hands. “You have Tian’s tablet.”
Kaiya bowed. “Yes, Mother.”
The hard lines of Lady Zheng’s face softened. “I have arranged for a regiment of imperial soldiers to escort you back to the capital.”
That couldn’t be right. How quickly an attitude could change. Kaiya raised an eyebrow. “You would betray your husband?”
“I have faith you will not betray yours.” Lady Zheng offered a sad smile. “I cannot allow Teleri hands to sully the mother of my grandchildren and raise more questions about their legitimacy.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Kaiya kept her expression warm and grateful, despite the irony of Lady Zheng’s words. As Father once said, sometimes half-truths and misdirection accomplished more good than the truth.
“You do not have long before my lord surrenders the gate. Make haste.”
Kaiya bowed, then glided out of the temple, running her hand over the cool surface of the tablet as she did. Tian, her husband, jettisoned in the last few days for the sake of convenience. Her love, even though she couldn’t feel it. She’d take the tablet back to her family temple in Huajing, and have Fang Weiyong vest it with hers to formalize Tian’s marriage into her family. She tucked the tablet into an inner pocket of her robe.
Outside, dozens of imperial soldiers dropped to one knee. “Dian-xia!” they proclaimed in unison. Around them, commoners pressed their foreheads to the ground.
Her energy flagging, Kaiya straightened. “Rise.”
The soldiers rose and stepped to the side, revealing the palanquin and kneeling porters. She stumbled with her first step toward it, but Weiyong caught her by the arm. Both he and a captain helped her in.
Once the doors slid shut, she slumped into the padded chair, grateful for the chance to sit.
“Where to, Dian-xia?” Weiyong asked from outside.
“To the capital.”
“If Emperor Geros finds out you are near, there is no way we can stay ahead of them.”
Especially in her condition. The objectivity of her thoughts suggested the Tiger’s Eye still held her emotions firmly in check. “Lord Zheng may betray Hua, but I do not think he will betray the mother of his grandchildren.”
“In any case,” Fang Weiyong said, “enough people have seen you here. We cannot just leave by the highway.”
“A diversion, then. Send the palanquin down the main highway with my guards, while you, Jie, and I will take a riverboat.”
Weiyong’s silence outside perhaps echoed Kaiya’s own misgivings. Strategic diversions like this had failed her at least three times in the past. What would make it work this time?
“Weiyong,” she said. “I don’t think we have any other choice.”
“Yes, Dian-xia.” His voice wavered.
“Captain, send a runner to Count Du, telling him to expect us soon.”
“As the princess commands,” the captain said.
On her command, the palanquin set off toward the town bordering the waterfall’s lake. The narrow confines, which in the past gripped her with terror, now provided a screen to hide her exhaustion.
After catching her breath, she slid the window open to see the ancient buildings, shrouded in mists. Even from a few li away, the commotion of worried townsfolk carried over the waters.
The noise grew as they made their way into the town. Commoners cleared the road for the palanquin. Perhaps the imperial soldiers drew the many points and murmurs.
“Fang Weiyong,” she called through the window. “Make sure they know it is me.”
He bowed in acquiescence, and then moved out of her line of site to the front of the palanquin. His usually timid voice rose, though its shyness remained. “Make way for Princess Kaiya.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Like a wave, they sank to their knees, foreheads to the ground, rising with excited whispers as the palanquin passed. In a land where the Imperial Family was revered, hopefully her very presence gave them a sense of calm against the impending invasion.
Before long, they arrived at the villa of Count Du, the local Yu-Ming lord. She’d rejected his first son two years before, but he’d always been faithful to Father in the past. Then again, so had Lord Zheng.
As they approached the gates and passed through, Count Du’s soldiers all dropped to a knee, fist to the ground.
The palanquin doors slid open, and Kaiya climbed out. The imperial soldiers serving as her escort and the villa guards all dropped into a salute.
Head bobbing, Count Du shuffled out to meet her. “Dian-xia, welcome. Had I known sooner, I would have made sure the entire town was out to greet you with waving banners of the Empire, and prepared a meal fit for the Tianzi.”
Kaiya nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment all the same. Now, I ask that you allow me to stay here for an hour.”
Count Du bowed. “It would be my honor.”
Kaiya beckoned the captain of the imperial soldiers. “Leave eight of your best men to protect me. The rest of you, escort the palanquin down the highway toward Huajing.”
Fang Weiyong startled from a dream and sat up straight on the thick blanket. Sweat clung to his neck and head, making the chill air of the guest room seem colder. Yes, he was near the great waterfall of Hua, not back in his recurring nightmare.
He rubbed his neck, where then-First Consul Geros had held him aloft in Iksuvius Heights. To think the giant Bovyan and his cohorts gathered outside the walls, just half a day away. The more distance between them, the better.
Weiyong clambered out from beneath his covers and padded over to the carved wooden bed where Princess Kaiya slept. Her chest gently rose and fell, even as her brow furrowed and she hugged herself.
He pulled the covers over her, and her body relaxed. At least the stubborn young woman had listened to his suggestion, to rest at Count Du’s pavilion until early morning. Much to the count’s and his own chagrin, she insisted he stay in the room with her.
Now if only she would stop calling him by name. Weiyong might be a priest, her doctor, her Maki tribe brother, and her friend, but he was still a man. A man who had no business wondering what it might be like to feel her lips against his.
Such a fool! He shook his head and stalked off to the window. Throwing open the shutters, he pushed his face out into the night air.
“Weiyong
, is it already time to go?”
He turned around to find the princess sitting up on the bed. He dropped to his knees and bowed. “No, Dian-xia. We still have another hour before we set off for the docks. Please go back to sleep.”
“You, too.” She flashed a demure smile and eased herself back down.
His heart pounded in his chest, and he stared out the window. Once they returned to the capital, he could put more distance between her, too. But where to?
“That is my command.”
He turned back and bowed, then shuffled back to his bedroll. Sleep did not come easily, and he spent the rest of the time staring at the ceiling tiles, trying not to think about beautiful princesses.
Hurried footsteps across wood floors jolted Kaiya out of sleep. Even so, she stayed buried beneath the covers, protected from the dark and cold.
“Dian-xia,” an imperial soldier called from outside of the door. “We must reach the docks in an hour. Please get ready.”
Groaning, she kicked off her blanket and sat up. Surprisingly, rest had done her good. Weiyong’s herbal medicine probably helped, too. She tightened her gown around her shoulders. “Any news of the Teleri?”
“No, Dian-xia.”
“Very well. I will be ready in ten minutes.” Kaiya dangled her feet over the edge of the bed and set a foot down. The wood was cold. Poor Weiyong. He must’ve been freezing.
She pushed her feet into slippers and glided over. Kneeling by his side, she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Wake—”
He bolted upright, nearly crashing his forehead into hers. His gaze met hers before staring at the floor.
Kaiya giggled. It seemed appropriate for his faux-pas. “We leave in ten minutes.”
“Yes, Dian-xia.” He pushed himself to his feet, avoiding eye contact. Was he that embarrassed?
Kaiya returned to the bed and picked up the hooded travelling cloak hanging over the footboard. Draping it over her shoulders and pulling up the hood, she walked to the door. “Come, Weiyong.”
Though he responded immediately, hesitancy weighed down his words. “As you command, Dian-xia.”