Teeth of the Gods

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Rakton led us up the stairs at the back of the common room to the upper floors where the doors were carved and the hall lit with blue-glassed lanterns. My suite was at the end of the hall, adjoining Jakinda’s. Two guards stationed themselves outside my door, two outside Jakinda’s, and one at the head of the stairs we’d just come up. The sixth stood by a rear staircase not far from my door. Overkill? Maybe, but that was Jakinda’s business. Maybe, if I didn’t bother her about her business she’d stop thinking she could interfere with mine. I was still smarting from her disloyalty. Would all that change when I could throw lightning around at will?

  Rakton showed me my suite. It was small, but compared to the Silken Gardens it was full of freedom. My own dining table held a small meal, dished out into silver bowls with gleaming lids to keep the heat in. Across from the dining table was a large balcony with the windows thrown open and the filmy red curtains were all that separated the room from the sounds of the nightlife beyond. To one side, surrounded by dark bead curtains, a hot bath sat with curls of steam escaping around the sides and a thick bed with a dozen cushions was off to the other side. I smiled widely. This would do just fine. First a meal and then a hot bath. No, first a bath and then a meal.

  Jakinda cleared her throat.

  “Thank you for your capable endeavors, Innkeeper Rakton. They are most satisfactory,” I said, with a tiny hint of a bow.

  “Of course, Tazminera,” he said, bowing his way out.

  “You may follow him to your own quarters, Captain Jakinda,” I said. “I have everything I need here.”

  Jakinda nodded coldly.

  “You chose well,” I said. Why was she so upset? Did she want to play nanny to me all night?

  “Be sure not to leave your quarters, Tazminera,” she said as she left. “The Blue Feather has a good reputation and a loyal innkeeper, but we do not wish to risk your life. Guards are posted at every entry. I will not let harm befall you.”

  “You act like there’s a war on!” I said, shaking my head.

  Jakinda frowned, but then she bowed respectfully and left. I was finally alone.

  The smell of the food was growing stronger and my stomach rumbled. I thought I could smell chill peppers and shamara. I swallowed and lifted a cover. Ah! Perfect. Gleaming shamara and chicken filled the bowl. I sat down and dug in, barely able to appreciate the taste of one of my favorite dishes, I was so hungry.

  Should I go straight to sleep? I sniffed the air and my nose wrinkled. Was that smell me? I’d better bathe first. I eased into the water carefully. My lacerations stung in the hot water and my muscles felt like jelly, but the water had a salt of some kind dissolved into it and it drew tension and pain out of my body like a magic elixir. I smiled and settled in deeper, letting my anger and fear leech out with the tenseness of my muscles.

  When my bath was done, I was too tired to dress. I made it to the bed and slid beneath the covers, asleep before I even had time to enjoy its wondrous softness. I did not dream.

  “Tylira?” it sounded like someone was trying to whisper and shout at the same time. The music outside was still loud, but the air was cooler. How long had it been since I’d fallen asleep? An hour? Two? “Are you there?”

  Chapter Eleven: Bridges

  I moaned. Who could possibly need me right now? I needed sleep.

  “Leave me alone,” I muttered, cuddling deeper into the blankets.

  “Are you decent?” It was the warm baritone from my journey. My heart sped up and I sat up in the dark, scrambling for my clothing. What was he doing here?

  “No,” I hissed. “Wait a moment.”

  I dressed in the yellow sarette and combed my fingers through my hair. How did it get so tangled? Where were my shoes? I shuffled across the floor, peering in the dark to try to find them. I stumbled over something. My shoe! There was a grunt from outside.

  “I’m coming in,” the voice whispered.

  “Not yet!” I said, and then the curtains drew open and the moonlight and lights from the street flooded in.

  Silhouetted against the moonlight was the man from my journey. I froze with one shoe in my hand and one on my foot. He crept to the side with his back to the wall, drew the curtains closed and carefully pulled up the slat in a small lantern he was carrying. The room filled with the faint light.

  He put a finger to his lips just as my mouth fell open. He wore his dark, hooded cloak, and under it he wore close fitting black breeches and a leather harness over a fitted black shirt, like he was some kind of warrior. In the flickering light, he looked dangerous. I swallowed. Should I call for Jakinda? Did I want to? His dangerous appearance just made him more attractive—as if his chiseled good looks, warriors clothing and sudden appearance in my room weren’t enough. I had a sudden urge to follow him anywhere he would take me.

  “Why are you staring at me like that?” he whispered.

  I flushed. “Why are you in my room in the middle of the night? I should call for my guards!” Act fierce, Tylira! Don’t let him see how he gets to you.

  “Don’t!” he said, throwing up a hand. His movements were graceful like someone who trained for battle. He smirked a little as he spoke. “It’s not like that, princess.”

  “Tazminera,” I corrected, narrowing my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest. He was charming, but was he too charming? What would really make him come here in the middle of the night to charm me?

  “You look like a cat I once owned,” he said, eyes twinkling in the lantern light. “But you shouldn’t spit and hiss. I’m here to make your dreams come true.”

  My eyes widened and I swallowed. Exactly what did he have in mind? I flushed a little as sudden images flashed across my mind—images of those perfect lips brushing against mine while those warm eyes closed in pleasure.

  “I’m not that kind of princess,” I said acidly, fighting hard against the mental images.

  His chuckle was low and throaty, and oh those eyes! The glances he sent in my direction were molten. I felt a shiver start at the base of my spine and work its way upward.

  “What I meant was that I thought you wanted to dance in the streets of Al’Karida. Would you like to sneak out with me while no one is looking?” he said with a boyish grin.

  “Oh.” I turned my face slightly, embarrassed. To cover, I asked, “Can I wear this?”

  “Judging by the crowd, I’d say that you can wear anything you want. I just saw someone run by wearing only feathers—and not many of those,” he said, glancing out the window and shielding the lantern with his hand. “But we should probably go soon before someone sees I’m here. Ready for an adventure?”

  He held out a hand to me and I took it.

  “It might help if I knew your name,” I said. How old was he? A few years older than me at the very least. The stubble on his chin looked like it needed daily attention.

  He leaned in close with a small smirk. “Savor the mystery.”

  He shuttered the lantern and before I could protest he was leading me out to the balcony, swinging a leg over, climbing down the other side and holding up a hand to help me as I clambered down behind him.

  At the bottom, I gasped for breath, glancing stealthily around. Had anyone seen us? In the dark it was hard to see and all the revelry was far off. The glow of lights was beyond us towards the heart of the city and the shutters on the inns had been closed to keep out the cool of night.

  “Where are the guards?” I whispered.

  “Distracted. I paid a little boy to tell them your Captain wanted to speak to them.”

  “Lead on, nameless one.”

  He laughed, gripping my hand in his warm, calloused palm. We snuck across the road like mice and I glanced back almost a dozen times to make sure no one had noticed. What would Jakinda say if she saw me? What would Amandera do? Terrible things. Things with sharp words and sharper beatings. I shuddered.

  “Are you cold?” he asked, letting go of my hand and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

  “No,�
�� I whispered back. Judging by the women who tracked my every move, this was probably the last chance I would ever have to do what I wanted. Freedom at last! There was no time to waste. “Take me to the dancing!”

  The air was sweet and free and I was wild with excitement. Would we dance together? Would he shoot me more of those fiery looks?

  After the first bend in the road he unshuttered the lantern and we ran across the cobblestones, hand in hand, past the burbling fountain and the tall proper buildings and into the packed dirt streets where finally, we found the fun. The moment I heard the drum beats, my feet began to move with the rhythm. Gone was my exhaustion and frustration. Gone were thoughts of revenge against Amandera. All that mattered was the fun of the dance. The crowd absorbed us without seeming to notice, just two more revelers in a sea of joy.

  “Dance with me?” he asked, leaning in so I could smell his heady musk. Voices and laughter drowned out everything but the music.

  I breathed in deeply, eyes half closed before agreeing. “Yes.”

  And then he drew me close, and put a hand on my hip so he could guide me in a shuffling step I’d never learned as we melded together like oil and water being stirred, swirling and mingling but still distinctively ourselves.

  His eyes glowed in the lights of the crowd around us, and I thought I saw some sort of longing in them but it was more sad than anything else and didn’t fit with the wide smile on his face. As the dance grew slower, I reached a hand up to his cheek and he leaned his face into it, smiling down bitter-sweetly at me. He seemed too sad for someone so young. What had he seen in the years that divided us?

  I had an overpowering urge to kiss him and stood up on my toes and leaned in. Blood pounded in my ears. I’d never kissed a boy before. I’d never even had the chance. But I was going to do it. I was really going to do it.

  He smiled slightly, his eyes warming as I leaned in, but as my face came close to his, he spun me with the hand on my hip, and leaned me into a dip, laughing hoarsely. I laughed with relief. Was he upset that I’d tried to kiss him? He didn’t seem to be. Had I done it wrong?

  As he drew me back up he said, “Would you like to see something amazing?”

  “Yes,” I agreed. I thought that maybe I would go anywhere with him. And I still didn’t know his name. “If you promise to tell me what your name is.”

  He nodded, taking my hand and leading me through the laughing dancers. Bonfires were lit at the center of every square, and kegs were being rolled out and tapped as the night grew chilly with the late hour. Revellers laughed and danced and bet on some kind of bizarre dancing competition with the frenzied activity of fruit flies in June.

  We wove from one festivity to the next, and I marvelled at the enthralling music, and the brightness of the moon and the colored lanterns. The people here seemed not to care about the late hour or the work that would doubtless await them the next day. They were lost in celebration and drunk with enjoyment. I wanted to be just like them, and I wanted to do it with the man with the warm hands and warmer eyes who was leading me through the city. We entered a dark alley where the music was quieter.

  “You must have been here before,” I said, laughing from the exertion. My feet were already growing sore from dancing on the cobblestones.

  “Once,” he agreed. “My father showed me what I’m about to show you.”

  “How did you know where I was staying tonight?” I asked, now that the music had faded and I could think.

  “We took a room in the inn next to yours and I saw you through the window,” he said, smiling as he drew me close and led me to the city wall, and up a narrow staircase cut into the side of the thick barrier. His body felt warm against mine in contrast to the cool of the night around us.

  “While I was sleeping?” I asked, shivering a little at the romance of a man watching a sleeping princess.

  He laughed, “No, when you arrived with your tiger of a guard.”

  It was my turn to laugh. If anyone could be described as a tiger, it was definitely Jakinda.

  The staircase was long, as the wall was very tall. We arrived at the top puffing and panting and he hurried me along the top of the wall, excitement driving him forward.

  “Here,” he said as we turned a corner, and there it was at our feet: the woven bridge we’d come in under. It was empty now that the celebrations had moved to the city center. I followed him out over the lattice. It was woven and shaped so intricately that it was hard to believe it was made by humans at all. “Did you know that they say these bridges over the gates were made when the Gods founded Al’Karida?”

  I smiled. If there was one thing I knew it was the history of our people—chosen and blessed by the Gods themselves. It was why they call me Daughter of the Stars and why I was marked with the tattoo of nine stars and the surrounding swirls that remind me that we are only brief flashes in the ever-swirling power of the Gods.

  We were in the middle of the bridge before he finally stopped and stood still. I followed his gaze toward the city and gasped. It was golden, bathed in the light of the bonfires and lanterns. The minarets and spires glowed with golden reflection. Lacy bridges, like the one we stood on, looked like fine spider webs intersecting the city, giving it an almost angelic look. Above us, the moon shone silver and below was nothing but rolling gold, and behind us velvet night all the way to the Far Sea and beyond it still to the End of All Things. I spun in exhilaration, hands held up high and a wide smile on my face. He leaned on the side of the bridge looking down as if he didn’t notice my giddiness.

  “Can you imagine anything more beautiful?” I asked. “It’s gorgeous and inspiring.”

  “It’s powerful and complex,” he said, “and impregnable.”

  I laughed. “Of course.”

  He was so beautiful in the moonlight. I wanted to kiss away his frowns.

  “Have you ever known you needed to do something wrong even though you knew it was bad before you did it?” he asked, turning his brooding gaze behind us at the dark beyond the wall.

  “Some things just have to be done,” I said, remembering when I tried to fry Amandera with lightning.

  He nodded, twisting those warm hands together. The muscles in his arms grew tighter and more defined. Wouldn’t it be nice to run my fingers over them? I shouldn’t think like that. I shouldn’t be thinking about placing hot kisses on his forearms.

  “You promised to tell me your name,” I said, trying to distract him from whatever was troubling him.

  “Yes,” he said, “but I didn’t promise when I’d tell you.”

  “It was implied that it would be immediately,” I teased, crossing my arms over my chest and pretending to pout.

  He smiled and moved closer, leaning in so his face was inches from mine.

  “Do you truly want to know my name?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, caught in the spell of his strong arms and warm eyes.

  “Really, truly?” he asked.

  “Please.”

  “What if I kissed you instead?”

  I swallowed. He wanted to kiss me now? After rejecting me before?

  He leaned in, pausing for a moment to look in my eyes. Whatever he saw there must have been assent. He kissed me, gently, softly, his lips barely brushing mine. My heart fluttered like a songbird in the leaves. He pulled back and I leaned forward to kiss him back, my eyes closed in the pleasure of the moment. Rough hands caught my shoulders, pulling me back. He was cursing loudly, almost frantically. I opened my eyes, gasping.

  “Caught you! By the Teeth of the Gods we’ve found you right here in Al’Karida!” a man’s voice said.

  He was holding a knife with the tip pressed under my companion’s throat while two others held his arms and one held me by the shoulders. I should shout. I should say that there was a mistake that he was ... but who was he? Jakinda had called him reckless. Had his recklessness made enemies?

  Two others stepped out of the shadows and as they came into the light of the dropped lantern I r
ealized that they were dressed in the black and green of the High Tazmin’s Army.

  Chapter Twelve: Prince of Hawks

  I struggled against the iron hands holding my shoulders.

  “I’m not who you think I am,” my companion said, speaking low and carefully. A small dark trickle ran down his neck.

  “You’ve got the wrong man,” I said, my voice made higher with anxiety. “It’s a mistake.”

  Rough hands shook me, and then pain blossomed in my cheek and I raised my hand to my face, stumbling against my captor. He struck me!

  “Our orders are to bring him in, but the General didn’t say anything about a girl,” the man with the knife said. “So hold your tongue. We can do whatever we like with you.”

  “I am Tazminera Tylira Nyota and by the stars of Nyota, I demand that you stop and let us go,” I said. What did they think they were doing? I was royalty. I could have them all beheaded if I wanted. I focussed inward, willing the lightning to come. Nothing happened.

  “Ho, there!” a voice cried from the darkness and shadowy forms rushed to fill the perimeter all around us. The clinking of metal and scuffling of feet on the lattice bridge gave away their numbers—at least a dozen.

  I reached into the meditation, trying to keep my mind on what was going on while also entering the world of woven threads. If I could just pick at one like I had last time—

  “By the right of the High Guard of Tazminera Tylira Nyota, I order you to stand down.” It was Jakinda! Were these my guards? My mediation wavered, and I lost the threads. Would they rescue me? But what if they couldn’t? Frustrated, I clawed back into my half-meditative state.

  “I am Captain Chander Okafor of General Komorodi’s army. We have business with this man,” the man with the knife replied.

  Jakinda stepped into the circle of lantern light. Her spathe was drawn, wide and bright in the lantern light and her grin was more evil than happy.