by JC Kang
The dragon swallowed up the Pearl and vaulted skyward, growing larger as he ascended. Larger and more magnificent than Peng’s dragon. It wasn’t possible. Unless two dragons served as messengers of the gods.
Though still smaller than Avarax, the silver dragon now dwarfed the golden one, and was far more beautiful. Long and elegant, each silver scale glistening in bright white. Spindly claws, like a willow’s branches. And the hum.
Kaiya listened, trying to decipher the unique resonance of the two powerful beings. The familiar buzz of the Dragon Pearl combined with…no, it was just one sound. Come to think of it, the golden dragon had been silent this whole time, not emitting the energy pulses like Rumiya said all dragons did.
The pearl wasn’t the only illusion.
The silver dragon coiled around the imposter, to three hundred thousand collective gasps. When the silver dragon pulled straight, the golden one blinked out of existence, pearl and all. The remaining dragon could only be the one true Guardian of Hua.
While everyone else repeatedly looked up and bowed, Kaiya tore her gaze away from the spectacle and sought out Cousin Peng. Sword hanging loosely in his hand, eyes fixed upward, he staggered to his feet and backed away from the edge of the outcropping.
The Guardian Dragon pointed a talon at him. “Usurper,” she—she?—said, voice echoing into the night.
A sea of heads turned to face her shamed cousin. Peng shrunk back.
The Guardian Dragon pointed a talon down at Kaiya. “The gods decree that only Wang Kaiya, daughter of the late Tianzi, is fit to be regent. Let her wisdom guide her in choosing the next Tianzi.”
Kaiya’s heart swelled. Still…wisdom? Not yet twenty, she wasn’t even considered an adult. Her eyes found Tian’s lockpick pouch in the grass, and she picked it up. She looked up.
The Guardian Dragon swooped in graceful circles three more times, then flashed out in a majestic bloom of light more magnificent than New Year’s fireworks.
“Ten Thousand Years to the regent,” someone called out.
“Ten Thousand Years!” the chorus repeated. The imperial and provincial armies bowed before her, even those from Cousin Peng’s own province.
Peng. Kaiya looked to the outcropping above, where her cousin had just groveled. Now it was abandoned. He must’ve fled. No, they couldn’t let the traitor escape, to stir up more trouble. Not again. He couldn’t have gotten far. She cleared her throat…and the magic was gone again. The Tiger’s Eye must have locked away her emotions once more. No matter, the legitimacy conferred by the Guardian Dragon of Hua was magic enough.
“Soldiers of Hua,” she called, bringing the men to silence. “The rebel Peng Kai-Long is hiding among us. I will reward a silver jiao to whoever brings me his head. Ten thousand gold yuan if you bring him to me alive.”
Peng Kai-Long picked his way among the forest of his provincial army tents as quickly and quietly as he could. How rapidly fortunes changed. He had been just one step from the Dragon Throne, and now he huddled like a scared rat. All because of a meddling, impossibly lucky girl, who had escaped three, no four…actually, five of his attempts on her life. If only he had snuffed her out years ago.
He would, if it was the last thing he ever did. Clenching his dagger, he paused by the right tent and peeked in.
The Aksumi Mystic, still maintaining his illusion as a handsome young Nanling provincial officer, was filling a pack.
Kai-Long slipped in. “You. I need your help. I can still reward you.”
“With what?” The Mystic turned around with a smirk.
“I have jade and gold stashed away.”
“Do you now?” The Aksumi’s eyes glinted. “What do you need?”
“A disguise. One that can be maintained, like the baubles you made for me in the past.” The ones he’d used to sneak Kaiya out of Sun-Moon Palace, only to have her survive the assassination he’d planned.
“I can do that.” The Mystic studied him from head to toe. “What did you have in mind?”
A plan within a plan, and a contingency—just like the way he had risen from second son of a provincial lord to almost-Tianzi, by hijacking Chief Minister Tan’s and old Hong’s schemes. He grinned. “Make me look like an old Maduran woman. Not too old.” Knowing his cousin, she’d personally check on the well-being of the servants and prostitutes, which would put her closer to his knife.
The Mystic nodded. He produced a light bauble from his pocket and spoke a single word. The light winked out, and he dropped it to the floor. He barked out a long string of foul-sounding grunts worthy of feral dogs fighting for scraps, and the bauble flashed.
“Take it,” he said.
Kai-Long snatched it up.
The man withdrew a hand mirror from his pack and held it up.
Looking into the mirror, Kai-Long suppressed a gasp. Fine lines crinkled his now-bronze skin. Coarse black hair framed a middle-aged face. Not particularly pretty, but that would prevent the soldiers from trying to take advantage of him.
“Keep the bauble with you at all times.” The Mystic yawned. “Now, how about my payment?”
Kai-Long gestured toward the tent flap. “Let’s go get it.”
Nodding, the Mystic turned to the doorway.
Dagger in hand, Kai-Long covered the fool’s mouth and slashed his throat. The Mystic clawed at his neck and choked on his words.
“Your payment,” Kai-Long said. “For lying to me about summoning the Guardian Dragon.”
The man’s fingers went limp first, then his entire body. His illusion remained the same, which must mean he held a bauble as well. Kai-Long patted the corpse down and was rewarded with a hard lump beneath his sash. When Kai-Long dug it out from next to the man’s still-warm flesh, the body’s form shimmered back to a middle-aged Aksumi male.
Kai-Long peeked out the tent. With no one around, he dragged the remains and dumped them in the closest tent. Then he went back to the Mystic’s pack and looked at the mirror. With just one of the baubles touching his bare skin, he appeared as either the young Hua male or the middle-aged Ayuri female. With one in each hand, he appeared as an androgynous, half-Hua, half-Ayuri mix. Perhaps a homelier version of Hong’s concubine—yet another person who deserved retribution for her role in his downfall.
All the easier to accomplish now that he had three different disguise combinations. Now, he just needed appropriate clothes. He fished an extra uniform from the Mystic’s clothes and then tucked the Hua bauble next to his skin.
It was time to seek out the Water Snake agent to help him with an assassination.
Chapter 43:
Race to Vengeance
Peng Kai-Long looked to where the real Guardian Dragon had just anointed his hateful cousin; a woman, no less. Gone. Of course, in the histories, the Guardian Dragon had only made brief appearances. It didn’t feed hungry mouths or reward men with treasure and women. When it came down to it, legitimacy only went as far as happy men with swords took it.
For now, it meant a level of discretion. He crept out into the night, hoping to avoid all the men searching for him. He’d taken three steps when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, sending a jolt up his spine. He turned around to meet the gazes of several Nanling provincial soldiers.
“Oh, Commander.” The one who had grabbed him stepped back and bowed. The others followed suit.
Right. With the magical disguise, Kai-Long could rove with impunity among all the men searching for him. Find out who he could trust and who deserved a knife in the back. He nodded, allowing the men out of their bows.
“Lord Peng was last seen somewhere around here,” one said. “Have you seen him?”
Kai-Long shook his head and pointed toward the supply tents. “Lord Peng is smart. If I were him, I would be collecting provisions.”
One of the men snickered. “Lord Peng would never survive without a comfortable bed to sleep in.”
Kai-Long memorized the man’s face. “He is more resourceful than that. Remember, he masterfully decei
ved the imperials when he fled the capital and returned home to take back his province. If you do not respect your enemy, you can never defeat him. Now go check the supply tents!”
Wide-eyed, the men bowed and jogged off. With a snort, Kai-Long stalked off toward another tent. No wonder things had turned against him, saddled by such stupid men. Just outside the flap, he paused.
“May I help you, Commander?” a male voice said from behind.
Kai-Long spun around. There stood the Water Snake agent, still disguised as a messenger. Kai-Long beckoned him in.
Folding his arms over his chest, the spy narrowed his eyes. No, one of his hands went into the folds of his robe.
Kai-Long pinched the bauble under his sash and pulled it from his skin.
The agent’s eyes widened. “Lord Peng.”
“Yes, now come in.” Kai-Long pushed through the flap.
The spy padded in after him. “What use are you to us now? I should just capture you and collect the reward the regent is offering.”
“A dead woman can’t fulfill a reward.”
The agent shook his head. “What did you have in mind?”
Kai-Long shrugged. “You are a messenger, after all. You can get close to her. Kill her.”
“Why would my clan want that?”
“Because once she is out of the way, the nation will look for leadership. I will be there to step in. When I do, your clan will be rewarded.”
The spy chuckled. “I do believe a Guardian Dragon labeled you a usurper.”
“It could’ve been yet more magic. She had a Mystic with her.”
“Unconscious.”
Kai-Long harrumphed. Nobody would remember all those details. “What do you have to lose? As long as the princess is regent, the Black Lotus will serve the Tianzi. At least with me, you have a chance.”
The spy’s eyes searched Kai-Long’s. “Very well.” He turned and slipped out of the tent.
Kai-Long followed. Now time to find General Lu. The imperial soldiers looked up to him, and he had no love for the princess. Then again, he had laid a hand on her, so he must be with the Maduran prisoners by now.
As the agent crept off in one direction, Kai-Long headed toward the Madurans, the ones he had been forced to spare as a demonstration of his leniency. Groups of soldiers still dashed about, his name on their lips. He searched the faces in the makeshift stockade. All Ayuri males. The single Hua guard paced outside the fencing, his gaze following his rushing comrades.
Just beyond stood the large tent for the servants and whores, unguarded. For the most part, they had been casually supervised to prevent acts of sabotage, but all had been docile and compliant. Except the pretty noblewoman who refused to let a man touch her.
“Jie-xia, the prisoners are this way.” General Lu’s voice carried from not far in the distance. That turtle’s egg must have submitted to her, and she, in a show of magnanimity, must have forgiven his transgressions. So predictable, down to her visit to the servants and prisoners. The sound of jingling armor and heavy boots approached.
Ducking into a tent, Kai-Long swapped the magical baubles. To confirm the transformation, he withdrew the mirror. The plain, middle-aged Ayuri woman stared back at him. The voices got closer. Kai-Long dashed from the tent. To his right, the princess walked with General Lu, the halfling, and the Ayuri Paladin with his sword arm in a sling. The Mystic and doctor were nowhere to be seen.
He pushed the flap aside and slipped in. Several women gawked at him. It didn’t make sense, since he should look just like one of them.
“Who are you?” the pretty noble said.
Of course, they wouldn’t recognize a newcomer. Thank the Heavens he spoke perfect Ayuri from his years as a diplomat in Vyara City. He opened his mouth…and then shut it. Even if he looked like an Ayuri crone, he would still sound like himself. Or would he? Not worth the risk. He pointed to his mouth and shook his head. Let them think he was mute.
An older woman—likely the one who had glared at him with such anger when he defeated the Maduran army—appraised him. “Why are you wearing their uniform?”
Curse the Heavens! He’d been in too much of a rush. He now pointed out of the tent and mouthed, I lost my clothes and a soldier loaned me his. He gestured toward a pile of clothes as he worked his arm out the uniform sleeve. Let me borrow one.
With a raised eyebrow, the noblewoman offered him a sari. Outside, General Lu’s voice grew louder. They couldn’t be more than twenty feet from the tent. Curses! He struggled out of the robe, revealing sagging breasts and rolls of flesh on his stomach.
How horrendous! And amazing. The magic was so…complete. Who would have ima—the bauble slipped off his skin before he caught it. His own honey tone and smooth muscle flared for that split second before returning to the Ayuri illusion. The noblewoman narrowed her eyes at him. The tent flap opened.
Kai-Long turned to see who it was.
General Lu froze in place, staring at Kai-Long’s exposed chest. Kai-Long crossed his arms, one hand squeezing the bauble, the other reaching for his dagger caught in the folds of cloth.
“General, please wait outside. Fleet, out.” The princess guided him out with just a wave of her hand. Now, it was just her. She looked to Kai-Long. “I am sorry for the intrusion.” She averted her gaze to the others. “Has everyone been well cared-for?”
With the bitch’s back turned and nobody guarding her, she didn’t stand a chance.
The low murmurs of Ayuri in the spacious tent reminded Kaiya of the journey to Vyara City. Meeting with dignitaries. Dancing for that buffoon Prince Dhananad. Learning Hardeep’s true identity. And of course, singing to Avarax.
Perhaps the Guardian Dragon had been right: perhaps she did have wisdom, garnered from so many experiences. Among those experiences was meeting this beautiful young Ayuri woman somewhere…but where? A musician or dancer, perhaps. Or maybe one of Dhananad’s wives. Whoever she was, she now glared at the half-naked, middle-aged woman with such hatred. There must have been some dynamic that had developed over the weeks on the march.
One which no amount of wisdom would diffuse. It wasn’t her place, either; not among foreigners who had to be somehow repatriated. Kaiya offered a nervous smile. Then behind her, the middle-aged woman moved in a rapid ruffling of clothes. The young woman surged forward in a blur, faster than anyone Kaiya had ever seen, besides…Paladins.
Women screamed. Kaiya’s sleeve sheared with a rasp. Pain bit into her arm. She turned to see the middle-aged woman on her back, dagger in hand. The young woman stomped on the other hand with blinding speed, sending bones crunching. It sounded like glass shattered in her hand.
The woman’s face disappeared, replaced by—Cousin Peng. His expression filled with a hatred that made Kaiya shiver. Wincing at his hand, which curled at a strange angle, he staggered to his feet. The tent flap opened, and Sameer, Fleet, and General Lu rushed in.
They were too far away. Peng lunged forward with a stab.
The woman wrapped a sash around his wrist and pulled his arm to the side. With a deft twist, she plucked the dagger out of his hand.
Peng’s eyes darted over the tent, his gaze pausing for split seconds over weapons, drawn and sheathed. With a sigh, he raised his hands above his head. “Curse you, Kaiya.” He spat her name.
Kaiya sighed, too. The Hua civil war was finally over, Peng Kai-Long finally in custody—
The young woman zipped in toward him. Faster than the eye could see, the blade whispered across his body eight times in a split-second before she jumped out again. He stared as blood spurted from several surgical slashes over major arteries. He collapsed to his knees.
The woman curled her lip. “That was for every Maduran you lured into Cathay. For every prisoner you butchered in cold blood.” She darted in again and yanked Peng’s head back by his hair.
Kaiya held a hand up. Deserved as it might be, this was nothing short of murder. Paladins did not dispense justice this way. They needed to drag Peng before the
rest of the hereditary lords for proper punishment.
“Sohini!” Sameer gaped. “What are you doing here?”
The woman looked back at him and her scowl softened. Her knife lowered. She looked…embarrassed.
That face, that expression. Kaiya sucked in a breath. The woman—Sohini—was no Paladin. She was a Golden Scorpion, the Scorpion who’d tried to poison her and defeated Jie.
Sohini’s mouth curled into a sneer. “This is for betraying my prince.” She plunged the dagger deep into Peng’s throat with a sickening squish. He fell over into a twisted heap of sari and uniform, his lifeblood soaking into the tent floor.
The Golden Scorpion Sohini pushed Sameer to the side by his bad arm and flashed out of the tent. Sameer whirled around and gave chase.
Kaiya’s mind spun. So much had just happened. The woman who had tried to ambush her had reappeared into her life. Then disappeared just as fast, taking Sameer with her. Cousin Peng now lay on the ground, probably dead from the brutal attack.
Fleet rolled the body over and shrugged. “Can’t say he didn’t deserve it.”
Maybe so, but what would the army say? All of it had happened in the close confines of a tent, with only a handful of witnesses. She had promised justice, not revenge. No one would collect the reward for Peng’s capture. And the Guardian Dragon and her Pearl were no longer around to reaffirm the Mandate of Heaven.
“Jue-ye,” a voice called from the entrance to the tent.
Kaiya turned to see a large messenger kneeling there, fist to the ground. “Speak,” she said.
“The Teleri have launched an attack on Lord Wu’s rear.”
Chapter 44:
Dance of Heavens
Geros scanned the valley, trying to decipher the positions of the Cathayi imperial and provincial armies. The messenger birds between him and the Nightblade embedded with Peng’s rebellion had ceased three days prior, and now he acted on what he had known at the time: Peng’s armies faced off against the imperials, with Lord Wu’s provincial army about to fall on the imperial flank.