by Rin Chupeco
I shifted tactics. The daeva made for the entrance of the city, landing with such force that the whole of Kion shuddered.
The Deathseekers had retreated, Ostry and Alsron yelling at their companions not to provoke the azi. We deliberately turned our backs on them, bayed thirstily at the Odalians to do their worst.
A fireball came out of nowhere straight toward us. My first instinct was to dodge it, but the human part of our mind was screaming, reminding me that the people behind me would be the first to suffer from that choice.
Daeva were immune to most forms of attack but not to pain, and the azi hissed as the fire licked at its skin. There are spellbinders in the Odalian army, Fox, I hissed, and he started. Send word to Althy to investigate the asha and Deathseekers in Ankyo. There may be more traitors hiding there.
In the distance, something flared.
A seeking stone! Another flare lit up among the soldiers and then another.
The men, once so hesitant to fight, went rigid, unnaturally silent. And then, as one, they shuffled forward.
Fox, tell the others to stay back!
The army picked up speed. I swept my mind out into the crowd, reaching for the stones—and encountered a barrier. The men kept running, swords falling uselessly from their hands. This was a suicide mission, a show of force. If the azi didn’t kill them, they would dash their brains out against the city walls.
I searched for the seeking stones a second time and encountered a Compulsion so great, my mind snapped back from the force. If I had not been inside the daeva’s mind, if the azi had not pushed away that corrupting magic, I could have easily been turned.
“Deathseekers, to me!” I heard Ostry yell. I felt another surge of magic as Shield runes popped up behind us, braced for impact.
The azi struggled, eager to defend itself, but I forced my full will on the beast, shouting at it to keep still, do not move, do not hurt them.
The Rot rune appeared under the soldiers’ feet a second before the ground disintegrated. The opposing army slid down the steep embankment as a large sinkhole opened beneath them, deep enough to make climbing out difficult.
“It’s Althy!” Zoya was awestruck. “She’s literally sweeping them off their feet!”
From within that strange barrier, I finally found cracks I could slip through amid the confusion and located the stones.
“Kalen!” Fox yelled. The Deathseeker and I had outpaced the others, mostly because of Chief. “Right field, by the flag bearer!”
Kalen scanned the army quickly and wove the air around us. Bursts of wind and fire spiraled out, directed toward the location Fox had shouted, and snatched the seeking stones with accuracy, leaving flames in their wake. Fox called out more locations, using my sight for his own, and Kalen stole them away, gathering them all in the air above us. I briefly shook myself free from the azi’s mind to weave the Strangle rune around them. The sound of the seeking stones shattering gave me immense satisfaction.
I could feel rage and consternation, and then the unseen mind was gone. The soldiers stumbled and fell to their knees, shaking their heads groggily. Many had collapsed, unconscious, but their lives were intact.
I could feel Fox and the others arriving at the city gates, Princess Inessa screaming at the Deathseekers to let them through. I opened the doors of my own mind to the azi, felt it snake its way in, closing around me like a fitted glove. Through the azi’s eyes, I saw Likh and Princess Inessa shrinking back and Zoya bravely standing her ground in front of Shadi despite the fear in her eyes. Alsron and Mavren tensed, but Ostry remained where he was, his mouth open as our three heads bowed to him. “Tea?” Those two syllables left his mouth in a near squeak.
I laughed; the azi rumbled. In this form, they looked strange, almost grotesque—as if it were them and not us who were the unnatural beasts.
Play, I told the azi, searching its memories and latching on to a vision of another city of stonework and marble, its ivory domes unmistakable. The azi cawed, and its wide wings lowered.
I felt the group scrambling up our back and a “Y’all really gonna climb up that?” from Mavren. We explored the fallen soldiers for any remnants of that powerful mind and found none. Deathseekers and asha were hard to surprise; after their initial amazement, they went to work, grabbing our trunks and tossing them up to my companions.
“Wouldn’t want you ladies naked in Daanoris!” Levi guffawed, always the quickest to find levity in any situation.
“Come back in one piece, you reckless loonies,” Ostry yelled at us.
We rose, Zoya leaving more invectives in our wake as we flew at breakneck speed. The city of Kion was soon gone, replaced by an endless landscape of trees and mountains.
The wind gave little opportunity for conversation, and it was all the others could do to cling to us as we flew. The land soon disappeared, and the crisp blue waters of the Swiftsea took its place.
It felt like eons had passed before I saw approaching land, the Haitsa mountains at a distance, though it must have only been an hour. The azi called out a warning as it descended, and we soon found ourselves standing in the kingdom of Daanoris, dirt and heat rising around us with the pearl roofs and spiral towers of its capital city, Santiang, only half a day’s ride away.
A new sound reached our ears—an explosion. At this, the bone witch abandoned her story to rush toward the window. She stared eagerly out at the carnage below. Large fireballs rose and fell, consuming the Dark asha’s undead by the dozens. Still more fire rained down on Santiang, and I froze in fear, imagining the asha’s efforts to protect the Daanorian citizens coming to naught should the city burst into flames.
Before anyone could stop him, the Deathseeker leaped out the window. The Dark asha’s cry was drowned out by the cawing of the azi, who swooped in and caught him easily. Kalen swung up on its back as it made for the army. The bone witch inhaled noisily, let her breath out slowly. “That idiot,” she muttered.
“I wonder where he learned that trick?” the Heartforger drawled.
“Shut up, Khalad.”
The azi flew into the path of the fireballs heading our way. A current ran through my body, sparks singing through the air as Lord Kalen’s magic took hold. Almost immediately, ice crept up around the incoming flames, freezing and turning them into rocks that shattered midair, their pieces falling uselessly back to earth. Every attempt by the enemy asha was quickly repelled, and the Deathseeker was quick to turn the battleground to his advantage; new hurricanes savaged the area, and what legions of the army had retained their formations despite the undead assault were soon dispersed by the whirling tempest.
But the army’s asha had not been idle; I could see the earth breaking up underneath some of the cadavers, saw many of them falling into the pits. The girl smiled, and I could feel the crackling of energy around her. The zivar pinned to my shirt grew hot to the touch. “Mykkie must have learned that from Altaecia,” I heard her murmur to herself. “But she forgets the one glaring difference between humans and corpses.” She lifted her arms, fingers moving deftly.
More cries and shouts of alarm came as the corpses reconstituted themselves and clawed their way back to the surface. Limbs reattached and heads returned to their bodies as the Dark asha’s magic took hold again, willing ashes and bone back to life. Now I saw the wisdom of bringing these undead from every grave she could find in Daanoris and burying them before the city. Already the army was demoralized and broken, and the daeva still waited beyond, refreshed and eager to participate.
The army retreated, carrying their dead and injured with them. I watched them disappear over the hill, while the corpses stood like rotting mannequins.
The azi returned with the triumphant Deathseeker. The bone witch rushed to him, giving him little time to respond as she took his face and kissed him hard.
“You are to never do that again,” she panted when they finally broke apart. “For a
moment, I had forgotten that you were…that you were…”
There was a boyish grin on Lord Kalen’s usually serious face. “Call it payback from last time.”
“Shut up,” the girl said and kissed him again.
18
“How could you not tell us that your pet could get from Kion to Daanoris in one day?” Zoya was not having a very good morning. We were camped outside Santiang, Daanoris’s capital, to finish our preparations. The azi had long since left; none of us wanted another panic, much less in a potentially hostile city. I could still feel it nearby, making itself at home in a nearby forest.
“It never came up in conversation before. And I’ve never been to Daanoris.” I felt ridiculous changing into an elaborate hua in the middle of nowhere, but there were delegates to consider. The presence of the azi had not gone unnoticed, and a small contingent of ambassadors, diplomats, and three times as many soldiers had arrived barely an hour after the azi’s departure. Though they were most respectful, with Zoya and Shadi fluent in Daanorian to prevent any misunderstandings, they were also very insistent that we meet the emperor immediately.
The look Zoya shot my way was scathing. “Well, there better not be any more surprises. We’re treading on unknown territory, and your daeva isn’t helping matters any. Can you keep a leash on your azi at this distance?”
“Distance doesn’t really mean anything to us.”
“Good. Let Shadi and me do all the talking. Back me up even when it sounds like I don’t know what in Mithra’s ass I’m talking about.” Zoya smoothed her dress. We were all decked out in our best hua, Inessa included, while Kalen, Khalad, and Fox dressed in gray woolen robes. It was odd to see Kalen in clothing that wasn’t black, and it was clear that the Deathseeker didn’t like it.
Zoya was uncharacteristically meticulous, fussing over each of us. “You’re going to have to take the lead at some points, Your Majesty,” she told the princess. “You’re going to be speaking for all of Kion, and it’s necessary to be assertive. Keep Prince Kance’s heartsglass hidden at all times. Have you ever been here before?”
“Once, on a ceremonial visit. Mother did most of the talking.”
“Channel as much of your mother as you’re able to. I’ll be whispering in your ear every now and then, like I’m your closest adviser. The emperor’s own counsel does this frequently, so it won’t seem out of place.” Zoya sighed. “They’ve waited long enough. Let’s get this over with.”
A crowd had gathered by the time we entered the city. As we were led down the streets, the people knelt, touching their foreheads to the ground.
“The emperor has his subjects well trained,” Kalen murmured softly and received a sharp jab in the side from Zoya.
There were certain similarities between Kion and Santiang. The roads here were narrower, but the sharp roofs and curved arches so popular in Ankyo had first taken root here. Kion was constructed with aesthetics in mind, but Santiang was built with utilitarian intent. The walls were made of a mix of wood and concrete. Though roughly hewn and unpainted, all looked capable of lasting for decades. We passed sturdy houses and well-maintained pavements, all in varying shades of gray.
Most of the people wore short robes and sandals, and I saw nothing in their dress to distinguish among different professions and trades. The only magic I could sense were in the hua and zivars we wore—no one we passed wore anything bespelled. Nobody wore heartsglass. It would take considerably more effort to use magic on someone without one, a clear disadvantage for asha.
“Something doesn’t feel right,” Likh said nervously.
Zoya wove a rune in the air. It sputtered against her fingers. “Still works,” she said, “but it’s not as strong as it should be.”
“If runic magic isn’t used here, then how did the sleeping Daanorian princess acquire a heartsglass of her own?” Fox asked Khalad.
The forger shrugged. “Master thinks it was a foreigner. I don’t think it was an asha though—that would have caused a stir—and Princess Yansheo wouldn’t have understood its significance. Most Daanorians think heartsglass are nothing more than pretty trinkets.”
“Makes what happened to her even more heartless,” Fox said. “Literally.”
The Daanorian palace was the only spot of color in the city. Pearl-white and luminescent, it was ringed by golden towers and sloped roofs, which shone like ivory. As we approached, I saw the reason why—the exterior was covered in marble slates, polished until they reflected the sunlight. I shuddered to think how hot it would be in the height of summer.
“They have an extensive irrigation system that pipes cold and hot water into the rooms within and can be adjusted according to preference,” Shadi murmured. “It keeps the palace temperate, no matter the weather.”
Something felt wrong the instant we stepped inside. Zoya stiffened, her fingers moving. “Wards,” she whispered.
“Someone warded the whole palace?” I could see the barriers writhing above us, tied in complicated knots. I sketched out Compulsion, but nothing happened. I pressed my hand against the protection stone I wore around my neck but found no response to it either. I tried Scrying, to similar effect. These wards were stronger than those in Aenah’s jail if not even the False runes worked.
“We should have expected this,” Shadi said softly. “Magic is banned in Daanoris. Whoever was responsible was also very thorough. And extremely competent.”
“Master never mentioned these protections though,” Khalad said. “This was added recently.”
Likh stared intently at the ceiling, at the magic beyond our grasp. “They may be more complicated than the wards around Aenah, but they don’t look all that different from the spells we wove into zivar at Chesh’s,” he murmured. “Will this put us at a disadvantage?”
“Not completely.” I reached out with my mind, felt my brother’s response, his comfortable nearness. Moving farther out, I detected faint thoughts from the azi. Our connection was not as strong as I was expecting, but it was assuaging to know our link had not been severed.
The azi was drifting lazily somewhere in the middle of the Swiftsea. I tried to nudge it with my mind, tried to get it to turn around—and found that I couldn’t.
“My bond with Tea is intact,” Fox confirmed.
“And the daeva?” Zoya asked.
“Not quite. I can sense it, but it doesn’t respond to my commands.”
“Isn’t that bad?” Likh asked. “Who’s controlling it while you’re here?”
“It’s not going to attack.”
“How sure can you be? It’s a daeva!”
“I’ve been inside its head. It doesn’t like cities. Unless…someone else controls it.”
Zoya groaned.
Even the floors and walls were made of marble. I could hear the soft rushing of water from somewhere nearby as we were led down large hallways. Servants and courtiers stopped to kneel as we passed, their foreheads pressed to the floor as the people outside had done.
At the end of a very long corridor stood two heavy doors. A band of trumpets sounded, and the doors opened almost instantly.
The throne room was even more ostentatious than the one at Kion. It was a dazzling display of white, from the embossed columns to the large, open windows shaded by soft curtains. Golden banners hung from the ceiling, and my heartsglass wavered when I saw they bore the silhouette of a three-headed yellow dragon, the emperor’s personal crest.
In the wake of such rich displays, Emperor Shifang stood out like an afterthought. He sat on a gilded throne that looked more expensive than all our hua combined. I was curious; common folk were not allowed to look on the emperor’s face, and at the last darashi oyun he attended nearly two years ago, his head had always been veiled.
But the emperor wore no concealment now. He was tall with long black hair; curiously intense dark eyes; and, while on the slim side, was easil
y one of the handsomest men I’d ever seen, rivaling even Prince Kance. His robes were heavily embroidered and wrapped in gold foil, and jewels adorned his wrists and fingers. Three dragons were carefully embroidered in his robes, entwined so closely that they gave off the appearance of being only one creature.
The emperor of Daanoris rose to his feet, and the people in the room genuflected. I stood uncertainly, unsure if I was expected to follow suit, but Zoya stood straight and proud, and we followed her lead.
The emperor made a speech in Daanorian in a surprisingly firm tone, his eyes never leaving Princess Inessa’s face. Zoya stepped forward and delivered her own speech, her confident voice echoing in the room. We were introduced, and the emperor looked surprised to find that I was the Dark asha.
“How can one so small and harmless looking command such power?” Shadi translated. Clearly, the emperor and I were starting off on the wrong foot.
Khalad was announced as a healer, Fox and Kalen, bodyguards to Inessa and me, respectively. The princess’s movements were likely to be restricted, so Fox and I decided our bond would help us keep in contact without arousing suspicion.
The emperor asked Zoya a question, and she responded, gesturing at me to step forward.
“What are you telling him?” Princess Inessa muttered without visibly moving her lips.
“He talked at length about your beauty and waxed poetic about your eyes, Princess,” Zoya said quietly. “I won’t bother you with the details. But he wants to know more about the azi, considering they patterned their royal crest after it. Speak clearly, Tea, with as little information as you can divulge. The emperor won’t understand us, but some of his advisers will. This is for their benefit.”
We’d already discussed what I would say, but speaking before an audience always made me nervous, and another headache was forming. “I am the keeper of the dragon,” I announced. “We have come from Kion to pay our respects to the emperor of illustrious Daanoris, for whom we hold high esteem. We wish to foster a closer alliance with His Majesty and are pleased to be given the opportunity to do so. We regret that we cannot bring the dragon into the city, for it fears enclosed spaces and always yearns for open sky. But we have summoned it here, as a sign that we wish good fortune upon your kingdom.”