by JC Kang
An arrow zipped by her head from behind her. Jie withdrew a flash-powder packet from her belt and hurled it against the ground. Hopefully, the bright flash and smoke would provide enough cover for her to make it through the courtyard to the armory without getting hit in the back.
Bounding through the courtyard, arrows buzzing by her head, she somehow arrived at her destination unscathed. The door to the armory was unlocked; she pushed it open and slipped in. At the far end, past the muskets, swords, and armor, sat a dozen kegs of firepowder. Heavens, this was just like the caves beneath Wailian Castle over two years ago.
Jie pushed and shoved the heavy barrels, to no avail. Gritting her teeth and squeezing her eyes tight, she thrust her heel into the midsection of the centermost keg. The wood yielded with a splintering crack. She opened her eyes, thankful not to have blown herself to oblivion. Black powder gushed out from the hole. She grabbed a broom and swept the powder in a line towards the door.
A peek out revealed a fierce fight between the few surviving imperial guards and altivorcs at the temple doors. The rest of the Hua knelt with hands on their heads in the corner of the compound as the altivorcs trained arrows on them. One of the orcs barked a guttural order. Arrows flew into her unarmed compatriots.
Their screams filled her ears. Her chest tightened. Jie turned her head away, grief flooding over her. Why had she not been placed under the Tiger’s Eye instead?
The same accursed orc syllable repeated, followed by more screams of Hua men.
A tear ran down her cheek. With a deep, choked breath, she opened her eyes to survey the situation again.
Nobody between here and the warehouse. Only one old man to fight there.
Despite her vast knowledge of weaponry, despite having almost blown up Wailian Castle, Jie had no idea how large of an explosion the powder would cause. She slunk as far as she trusted her aim, and hurled another flash packet at the line of firepowder at the door.
It caught. A fizzling flame tracked down the line.
She bolted toward the warehouse.
She crashed through the door and just barely avoided a barrage of throwing stars that came hurtling at her. Two knives were in her hands as the old renegade Moquan charged with a dao raised above his head.
Jie twisted out of his chop. Slipped the follow-through stab. Slashed at his forearm, but he jerked his own blade up with a flick of his wrist, deflecting her cut. With a subtle twist, the sword sliced towards her throat. A killing blow.
Jie had presence of mind to jump forward. Pain bit at her shoulder. Just a nick, instead of decapitation. She wrapped one arm around both of his and cut towards his throat with her other hand.
The force of the explosion rocked the walls and floors. Her body lurched forward. Jie’s ears rang and something slammed into her head. All went black.
CHAPTER 25:
The Resonance of the Universe
The altivorc shot a quick glance at their table before hurrying towards the door. Tian signaled the imperial guards to stay in place. Seeing their blank stares, he said, “Stay here. I’m going to follow. And watch the altivorc.”
As he got up, Fleet also rose. The two trailed the altivorc out of the inn and around the corner. Tian paused at the turn. On the other side, the altivorc breathed lightly and rapidly, ready to ambush him.
Tian smirked. Even if altivorcs fought well, apparently subterfuge did not come as easily. Time to spring a poorly set trap.
Feigning carelessness, Tian turned the corner.
A knife flashed in a deadly thrust toward his side. It was a quick, well-aimed shot that would have passed between the ribs and punctured the lung of an unsuspecting victim.
Tian wasn’t unsuspecting. He caught the altivorc’s knife hand, pulled his arm, and twisted it upwards. The altivorc’s fingers loosened and the knife slipped from his hands. With a spin on his hips, Tian drove him face-first into the ground and kneeled on him. “All right—”
Fleet smashed a ceramic plate over the altivorc’s head, knocking him out and shattering the dish in the process.
Tian scowled. “What did you do that for?”
The madaeri meekly shrugged his shoulders. “I thought you were in trouble.”
“Now we’re just going to have to wait for him to wake up.”
“It can’t be helped, so let’s see what he has on him.” Fleet grinned, snatching up the altivorc’s belt pouch and shaking its contents onto the stable floor. After stashing away a few silver kroon, he held up a crude, hand-drawn map. “Even worse than yours, though not by much.”
Tian snatched up a finger-length metal tube just before the madaeri’s hand could reach it. Popping off the cap, he eased out a piece of parchment and unfolded it. The strange runes bore no resemblance to any language he’d ever seen.
He handed it to Fleet, whose large round puppy eyes shifted into foxlike focus as he quickly glanced through it and shrugged. “Maybe Brehane can help us. What about the altivorc?”
Tian frowned. “We can’t have him spreading news. Of our presence.” Hold the dragonfly with care. Did it apply to monsters? And did the princess still believe it? He took the altivorc’s knife and brought it to his throat.
“Wait!” Fleet whispered. “If he goes missing or turns up dead, it’ll raise suspicions. There’s another way.” Reaching into his pouch, he pulled out some dried red mushrooms, which he crushed into a coarse powder. “Open his mouth!”
Tian watched dubiously. “What will that do?”
“These fungi have a sedative effect on altivorcs and tivorcs. Legends say that before the War of Ancient Gods, the altivorcs enslaved my people to serve as watchdogs to warn against dragon attacks. What they don’t say is that we also harvested these mushrooms so they could use them for leisure. After he eats them, he’ll be out for hours with sweet dreams, and have only a vague recollection of what happened.” The madaeri grinned. “So don’t say my notes on your outdated map are useless!”
They drugged the altivorc, and then half-carried him back to the inn. Locals turned their heads, but most quickly returned to their socializing. At the table, the imperial guards seemed uncharacteristically...relaxed. Their usually hard eyes were softened, their gestures animated. And they were smiling.
Two newcomers sat on either side of Brehane, their backs to him. Zhao Wei made eye contact and tilted his head in Tian’s direction. Everyone’s attention, including that of the two recent arrivals, fell on him.
Sameer. Dressed in the Ayuri Paladin’s traditional kurta, he stood and pressed his palms together in greeting. The other young man, dark of skin with a bald pate, remained seated, his posture straight. Likely the Levanthi Akolyte Cyrus, if he was with Brehane and Sameer.
Tian greeted them with a nod, and then sat their unconscious guest down at an open chair.
Cyrus’ tone was harsh as he addressed the madaeri in what sounded like the Ayuri tongue.
Fleet grinned at the Akolyte and shrugged, while binding the altivorc to the chair with confounding knots. After he finished with his handiwork, he swept his gaze over the room. He grinned at the few patrons who gawped. “Our dinner guest.”
Their stares awkwardly returned to their drinks, and Tian withdrew the altivorc’s letter. “Miss Brehane. Fleet said you could translate this letter. Do you read the altivorc language?”
She shook her head. “I only learned a little about the magic they lost millennia ago. However, I may be able to help.”
Tian handed her the letter, which she opened and placed on the table. Producing a crystalline prism from a pocket in her cloak, she set it atop the sheet. She then spoke a three-second string of guttural words, whose harshness did not match her appearance. The prism glowed, and the words on the paper swirled into a different script. The Akolyte and Paladin joined Tian and Fleet in crowding around.
The wavy script of the Ayuri was still just pretty gibberish. “What does it say?” Tian asked.
Brehane translated: “Have been watching activity outside
Iksuvius.... Cathayi ship docked at Aremarela... Cathayi here dressed as Kanin Riders... appears to be princess, six guards... await your orders...”
Tian looked at the altivorc, who was smiling in his sleep. “The scout saw through our disguise.”
“We should kill it.” Xu Zhan slashed a finger over his throat.
Tian tapped his chin. “He was going to pass this message on. We need to find out to whom. When will he wake?”
Fleet chuckled. “A couple of hours. Aren’t you glad I didn’t let you kill him?”
So much for restful sleep tonight. Tian turned to Li Wei. “We’ll have to rotate watches. You take first.”
Li Wei was just starting to stand when the miserable but beautiful tone of a flute floated down the steps. The princess! Clear and resonant, the melancholy sound pulled at Tian’s heart, constricting his chest. Around him, the spirited conversations guttered to a hush. All the revelers’ expressions contorted into sadness.
Brehane clasped her necklace. Her eyes closed, but then flapped open. “What magic is this? So beautiful and serene, yet I can feel the resonance of the universe.”
“That’s our princess,” Tian said. “She came to Iksuvius in peace. Now she’s pursued by the Teleri Empire. I failed to expedite her escape by ship. Let us travel with you. At least to the madaeri’s pass. It could save us weeks of danger.”
Brehane ignored him, turning instead to Sameer. “Is this the princess you spoke of, who transformed a dragon with her voice, and captivated kings and generals with her music?”
Sameer nodded.
She turned back. “Mister Tian, please introduce me to your princess.”
Tian raised his eyebrow at the imperial guards. Zhao Wei shrugged, and the others remained expressionless. They were leaving it in his hands. At least they didn’t object to it, and apparently they trusted each other. Sameer was honorable as well. And regardless, there weren’t many other choices. If he were to take the princess over the land route, he’d never find the mountain pass without Fleet’s help.
He rose from his chair and beckoned Brehane. He shot Fleet a warning glance as the madaeri moved to get up and follow them. Climbing the steps, they came to the cracked door to the common room. Ma Jun stood beside it, his eyes tearing and lips sagging as the despondent tune floated out from within.
Tian peeked into the small room. The princess sat on a chair by a writing desk between two windows, wearing the simple pants and shirt of the Kanin uniform. Poor girl. He’d been too harsh. This had to be the most downtrodden place she’d ever slept in her life. But there would probably be harder days to come.
Kaiya had trudged up the creaking stairs, unable to remember the last time her limbs felt so listless or her heart so heavy. All sense of grace forgotten, she plodded through the narrow hall to the common-room door and pushed it open. The stench of sweat blew over her like a wave. She cupped her mouth to fight back the rising bile and stumbled over to the closest of eight cots.
The bed jolted her tired body as Kaiya threw herself down on its coarse woolen blanket. Tears pooled in her eyes, unbidden. Not so much from the pain of the rock-hard bed, nor even the inevitable vermin that hid there; they only seemed like the final insult in the worst day of her life.
She allowed herself a moment of self-pity.
Having wiped the tears away, she sat up and looked around the room. The cots lined both sides like sarcophagi in an Arkothi sepulcher. A crude writing desk and chair encroached into what little open space there was. With the two windows shuttered, it seemed even more stifling than the ship’s cabin.
The leather cuirass, though not actually that tight, contributed to her sense of confinement. Kaiya stood and struggled with its buckles. When her trembling fingers failed her, she tried squirming out of it. Designed for and by a man. She paused in her futile efforts and caught her breath. With persistent twisting and turning, it finally came loose. She flung her tormentor onto the cot and glared at it.
With a sigh, Kaiya inched through the room and collapsed into the chair. She withdrew her flute from a pocket and began to play, the memories of the day flooding back to her. Geros pulling her to him. The hopelessness of missing the ship. Tian humiliating her. Her own guards betraying her. And finally, this lice-ridden inn.
“Dian-xia.” Tian’s hated voice interrupted her self-pity, calling from outside the door.
Kaiya shuddered. She’d left the door open a crack. Had anyone seen her wallow?
“You have a visitor. She might be able to help us. Would you meet with her?”
Her? Had Tian brought some woman warrior like Jie to show just how useless she was in comparison? Very well, let him try to humiliate her more. She attempted to compose herself, straightening her carriage and lifting her chin. “Send her in.”
Tian opened the door and fell to one knee, head bowed. “Dian-xia. I present Brehane. An Aksumi Mystic.”
A chocolate-skinned woman strode in with the gait of a man.
“Leave us.” Kaiya didn’t even look at Tian.
He turned on his heel and left. When his soft footsteps lightened as they went down the steps, Kaiya turned back to Brehane. She’d never seen an Aksumi person so close. The woman’s dark skin and coarse hair would be considered unattractive by the Hua standards of beauty, but she was pretty all the same.
Brehane walked over to the desk. Locking a penetrating gaze on her, she extended her hands and clasped Kaiya’s.
Such strange customs, rude by the conventions of the Hua court. Kaiya fought the urge to break eye contact, to pull back.
Brehane spoke with a heavy lilt. “I am Brehane, daughter of Dahnay of Bahir. I am honored to meet you. I hope that your health is well in this chill autumn air?”
Never before had a complete stranger addressed her so! And the Mystic’s hands were so hot. Comforting, actually. Kaiya nodded.
“And your family is all well, too?”
How to answer such a question? Father’s health worsened by the day, and her two brothers remained heirless. Kaiya rose out of the chair. “I am Kaiya Wang. My health, and that of my family are all well, thank you. To what do I owe this visit?”
Brehane smiled and released her hands. “My friend Sameer spoke of you, saying you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and that your words alone disarmed a tyrant. I had to see for myself what kind of woman that was.”
Kaiya’s shoulders stiffened. As the old Hua proverb said, A stranger’s flattery is often followed by a knife in the back.
The Mystic’s eyes searched hers, and she spoke again in a soothing voice. “Yes, your inner spirit is strong, strong enough to tame the Last Dragon. But a deluge of events beyond your control has crushed it. Even now, you deplete what is left in a tenuous maintenance of your mask. Let go; you are safe with me.”
The audacity! Yet she couldn’t deny the truth in the Brehane’s words. Even now, it took all of her control just to hold back tears. She shook her head, all the same. “You are mistaken. Perhaps you should question the strength of your magic.”
Brehane laughed. A sincere laugh, devoid of mocking or rebuke. “Miss Kaiya, my words have nothing to do with magic, and everything to do with being a woman who has also had her confidence shattered. As a girl, I was considered a prodigy. But my natural gifts could not surpass less talented people who practiced harder. That realization forced me to question my very understanding of my place in the world. Is that much different from how you feel?” She reached out with both arms, inviting Kaiya into an embrace.
Kaiya stiffened and took a step back. It would not do for the Princess of Cathay to show weakness, or allow herself the close contact that foreigners engaged in so freely.
“I’ve had my spirit crushed, as well. I lost the man I loved. I was forced to give up our child.” Brehane beckoned her closer.
How reassuring it would be to confide in someone. Someone who would disappear from her life just as quickly as they had come. That someone was supposed to have been Tian, but now,
perhaps it was this stranger. Her resolve faltered. She stumbled into the Mystic’s arms. Empathetic warmth enveloped her, and tears flowed down her cheeks as the Aksumi stroked her hair.
Kaiya’s shoulders relaxed. She drew away, wiping her eyes on her coarse sleeve and lifting her chin. The sisterly hug hadn’t been too awkward or embarrassing. It was pleasant, even, though the last time she’d found comfort in a hug was with a dragon in man’s clothing.
Brehane smiled. “You are not alone.”
Kaiya nodded.
“Now, Miss Kaiya, might I ask you to play your musical instrument?”
Though it would be considered rude to make such a request in Hua, Kaiya withdrew her flute. Why not? She had already hugged a stranger. She brought it to her mouth and started a peaceful tune, the previously melancholy sound all but forgotten.
“More emotion,” encouraged the Aksumi.
Kaiya complied, allowing her renewed sense of serenity to float on the notes.
Clasping a jewel which hung from her neck, Brehane closed her eyes. “I can feel it. The resonance of the universe.” She started a slow chant in a guttural language. It rippled through Kaiya’s music.
The Aksumi intonated one last syllable. Several crashing sounds came from downstairs, followed by silence.
Kaiya lowered her flute, while Brehane came out of her trance and looked around.
“What was that?” Kaiya asked.
“As you were playing, I could sense the energy of the world coalescing, similar to the vibrations surrounding the ancient pyramids—though not as strong. I tried to help put you into a state of relaxed sleep with my magic, since I was so certain your scattered thoughts would prevent you from resting well tonight. Yet you are still awake. How is that?”
Kaiya’s emotional armor reformed. The Mystic had tried to put her to sleep without her consent. She glanced at her pack on the bed, where she’d stowed the Teleri imperial crest. Certainly, it couldn’t protect her from magic from so far away. And no matter how compassionate Brehane had acted, it was not worth the risk of revealing it. “I do not know,” she said. “Let us go downstairs and see what all the noise was.”