by Peter David
“Ow!” I yelled in protest. “Was that really necessary?”
“I told you to protect my father!”
“Well,” and I hauled myself to my feet, “I was unaware I took orders from Princess Spits-In-My-Face! The only reason your father is still drawing air into his lungs at all is because I sent the demon back so he wouldn’t kill Mordant. My sympathies are not with dear old daddy at the moment.”
“We don’t need your sympathies,” said Mordant. “We need your help.”
“There’s only one healer in all of Chinpan who can help him now,” Mitsu said. “Veruh Wang Ho.”
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “She’ll never come here.”
“We can bring him to the Noble Ho. There are ways out of here,” she said, her voice growing increasingly desperate-sounding.
“Secret ways that I’ve used to get in and out. The Noble Ho will be able to cure him. To—”
“Why?” I demanded. “Tell me why. I deserve to know. Why in the world should we be going out of our way to help this… this so-called ruler.”
“For me,” said Mordant. “I need you to help him for me.”
“For you?” I was lost. “Why for you, Mordant? What interest does he have for—”
“He’s my lover!” Mitsu cried out.
“Hush!” Mordant snapped at her. “You promised—!”
I was appalled. I looked at the fallen Imperior and then at Mitsu.
“Your father is your lover? Gods, that… that is the most horrible, hideous—”
“Not my father, you idiot!” Mitsu shouted, and cuffed me in the side of the head. “Him!” And she pointed at Mordant.
I stared at her blankly, convinced she’d lost her mind.
And then I realized. It all snapped into place.
“Oh… my gods,” I said. “Oh my dear gods. You,” and I pointed with a trembling finger at Mordant. “You’re… you’re the peasant boy. The boy from the marketplace. The one Mitsu said she fell in love with. You… you were human…”
“Of course I was human!” Mordant said, immensely irritated.
“I’m a talking dragon, for gods’ sake! Have you ever met any talking animal in your life?”
“Well… no…”
“And it never once occurred to you to ask me how I was able to converse with you? Not even once?”
“I just… I thought you were magic. Once I accepted the notion that you were magic, anything seemed possible. So I… I…”
“Apropos,” sighed Mordant, “for someone who fancies himself to be exceptionally intelligent, you can be astoundingly stupid sometimes.”
“I told you my father was a powerful wizard,” Mitsu said. “When he discovered my true love, he called up a deep and powerful curse and placed it upon him.” She walked quickly over to her father and knelt, examining his wounds. “He transformed my beloved into what you see here, and sent him away… far, far away. But he came back to me….”
“Took a while. A couple of years,” said Mordant.
“But why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded.
“Because although my father unleashed the curse, he didn’t know what sort of animal my love had been changed into,” said Mitsu.
“We didn’t want to take any chance that he might find out….” She shook her head as she looked up, her face getting pale. “We have to hurry. We have to bring him to Veruh Wang Ho. He is the only one who can remove the curse upon my beloved. If that doesn’t happen…”
“You’re a drabit forever,” I guessed.
Mordant nodded dourly. “Not a bad fate if you’re born this way. Somewhat unfortunate if you once possessed another form.”
“All right, fine!” I growled. “Let’s get out of here. But with something slightly less noticeable than the bloodied body of the ruler of all Chinpan.”
It was but the work of a moment to tear down a tapestry and wind the Imperior up in it. He was in no shape to protest, his head lolling and looking deathly pale.
With the Imperior obscured from sight, I said, “All right, let’s get out of here. Do you know where Veruh Wang Ho can be found?”
“The Noble Ho will meet us in Darktown,” said Mitsu, and I immediately took that to mean the section of the city we’d been to before, with the overhanging roofs and the sense of perpetual blackness.
“How do you know she’ll be there?”
“I’ll make certain of it,” said Mordant. “Although my guess is that Ho’ll know before I even get there.” And with that, he leaped skyward and flapped out of the room. I was sure it would take him no more than a minute to find a window and be on his way to wherever it was he was going to go.
“My love is right. The Noble Ho has eyes and ears everywhere,” she assured me. “By the time we’re approaching the dwelling of the Anaïs Ninjas, the Noble Ho will be prepared for us.”
Which was fine, of course, for those whose loyalty to the Forked Tong and its associate members was unquestioned. For one such as me, however, I was concerned over the likelihood of my life being extended much beyond its current measure.
“Do not concern yourself,” said Mitsu as we headed down the hallway, with a bloodstained tapestry slung over my shoulder.
“Nothing useful ever came out of worrying.”
“Sudden death,” I said.
Mitsu stared at me. “How is sudden death useful?”
“Better than a slow, lingering death.”
I just hoped I’d never have the opportunity to compare methods.
Chapter 3
Hidden Draggin’
I never thought he would survive the trip.
I’m not sure how he managed it. We’re talking about an elderly man, badly wounded by a demon creature, wrapped up inside a tapestry and hauled across the length of Taikyo. I kept waiting for him to wake up, to shout for help. But he didn’t. Which then led me to start worrying that when we eventually unwrapped him, he would be a corpse tumbling out.
We went straight to my quarters where I packed my things within seconds. I’d gotten rather skilled at that. Someone like me had to be prepared to depart a place at a moment’s notice, since I never knew when someone might be coming to kill me. I didn’t know for sure if I was going to be returning to the palace or not, and better to play it safe. “All right,” I said when I was ready. “Which way?”
“This way,” she said, and headed over toward one of the panels of the wall.
Mitsu certainly knew what she was talking about when it came to hidden passages. Apparently they had been there long before her father became Imperior. They had been built by predecessors who were trying to anticipate a time when they might have to leave as quickly as possible, because of either invasion from without or uprising from their own people. I wasn’t entirely surprised. The castle of King Runcible had had similar secret passages, constructed for much the same reasons. It was intriguing that those who were ostensibly the most powerful individuals in the land always seemed to fear for their lives and plan for escapes. Whereas the least powerful individuals in the land resided in single-room huts and were quite content to do so, going to sleep every night in relative peace. Not easy to determine, when considering that, who was truly in charge of their own destinies.
The princess had discovered a moving panel on the wall of her room when she was very young, and from that point on had used the secret passages to explore the palace and go wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted. It was one of the few things about her life that ever made her feel powerful. She would sit and watch her father’s meetings from hiding and be smug over never being seen. And on several occasions, she witnessed dark rituals her father performed, and they chilled her and frightened her and made her realize just what it was she was dealing with.
“Even before I saw him performing the rituals, I would know after the fact he had done one,” she told me as we moved like ghosts through the walls. “He would age.”
“Age?”
She nodded. “The magicks he channel
ed were so powerful that they would drain life energy from his body. He would dispose of enemies, achieve alliances… transform people when he desired to make their lives a living hell,” she added grimly. “But it would always take something out of him. That’s why he did it less and less as time wore on. My father looks so old to your eyes, does he not. Ancient, even. That’s deceptive. In terms of how many years he’s been in this world, he’s not really all that old.”
We descended a long, narrow stairway that was hewn directly into the rock. It led to a subterranean passage, with a trickling stream running through. We walked along the bank, and I shifted the Imperior-in-the-tapestry from one shoulder to the other. This was not the easiest endeavor I’d ever engaged in. My arms were strong, yes, but it was starting to cause serious wear and tear upon my lame leg.
I shook my head as I contemplated the follies some people would engage in for the purpose of obtaining and retaining power. And then I started to think about everything that Mitsu and Mordant had gone through… and I chuckled slightly.
“What’s so funny?” she asked.
“I am. This situation is.”
She shook her head, uncomprehending.
“I’m a side character. Again,” I told her.
“A what?”
“An incidental individual. A throwaway cast member. A sidekick. One who thinks his own life really matters, and who is experiencing his own great adventure… and it turns out that I’m experiencing yours.”
She stepped carefully over some slime that had gathered on the shore. Not too far ahead of us, I could see moonlight filtering through. We were drawing nearer to an exit. “I still cannot say I understand what you’re talking about.”
“You, and your heroic young man in the marketplace… or, as I call him, Mordant the snide and occasionally annoying drabit,” I explained. “You and he have this grand and great tragic romance that I’ve been pulled into. Your story is the truly interesting one. I’m just… just this foolish individual who’s been trying to change his life, find love, making something of himself… in short, operate in a manner contrary to his nature just to have—if nothing else—something different to think about and do and contemplate. And you…”
I sighed heavily, readjusted her father around my shoulders once again, and said, “I can see that what I’m saying remains impenetrable to you. Do not concern yourself with it.”
“No, it’s not impenetrable at all. I grasp what you’re saying now. You liken your life, and the lives of those around you, to great literary adventures or tales of mythic accomplishments.”
“Yes, exactly.”
“And you consider yourself to be something other than the central figure. A subordinate ‘character’ who participates in the lives of others who are far more interesting and unique, while constantly being frustrated that he himself amounts to nothing.”
“You do understand,” I said with satisfaction.
The exit out was so narrow that we could only emerge one at a time. In fact, it was little more than a hole, so we had to crawl through it. Mitsu eased herself through first, and then I slid her the wrapped form of her father, which she pulled out from the other side. I took a deep breath and shoved my head in, twisting and insinuating my body through. When my head poked out the other side, I sucked in fresh air and then muttered, “So… this is what birth is like.”
“Very funny,” she said, and helped pull me out the rest of the way. We sat there for a moment, resting from the exertion. Actually, I was the one who had exerted himself. Mitsu wasn’t even breathing hard.
“You’re wrong, you know,” she said.
“About what?”
“About what you’re saying. About your point of view,” said Mitsu. “Our story, the tale of my lover and I, has been seen and told and retold any number of times. Look at us: Star-crossed lovers. The hero transformed. The heroine in disguise. It’s all been done before, by people far more intriguing and clever than we. But you, Apropos… you’re unique. I’ve never heard of anyone like you. You’re much more interesting than we are. Much too interesting, in fact, to be a ‘supporting character.’ “
“Do you truly think so?” I asked.
“Oh, unquestionably. You have a personality. Supporting, incidental characters have personality traits. But you are much more than you’re crediting yourself.”
“And yet…”
“And yet?” She looked at me expectantly.
“And yet… I still have nothing. In many ways, still am nothing.”
She shook her head sadly. “Do not underestimate the joy of nothing. The problem with having something is that someone else always wants to take it away from you. A man who has nothing has nothing to lose, and everything to gain… unless he’s wise enough not to gain it.” She got to her feet, her face suddenly serious. “Come. Time is running short.”
No one gave us a second glance as we walked quickly through the darkening streets of Taikyo. There was every likelihood that by this point, the alarm had been sounded back at the palace. But many, if not all, of the formidable Hamunri had been disposed of by the Slojinn. Matters would be in disarray. They would likely be searching every corner, looking desperately for the Imperior, not realizing that he was gone. And with any luck, by the time the search spread into the city, matters would be resolved.
Then again, I thought grimly, when did “with any luck” and “Apropos” ever live in comfortable harmony with one another?
We entered the shadow city. I had come to think of the darkened section of town as another place entirely, separate from Taikyo, with a life and energy—or lack of life and sucking of energy—all its own. I did not fear the shadows this time, however. I welcomed them.
And they welcomed us.
Literally.
We passed a shadow and from within came the word, “Welcome.”
I almost jumped as I saw one of the Anaïs Ninjas emerge from hiding and fall into step behind us. And then from another shadow came a second, and then a third. The shadows in front of us, too, birthed more of the warrior sisters. They were giving us an escort of sorts. Or perhaps they just wanted to make sure there was no trickery on my part.
“Word really did get around,” I said under my breath.
“As I said it would.”
I saw their eyes glittering in the darkness. None of them were looking directly at me. Instead they were fascinated with the bundle I was carrying, obviously intrigued and delighted at the notion that the great, mighty, and divine Imperior was being treated with the dignity usually accorded to a load of laundry.
Suddenly they stopped, which naturally caused us to halt as well. “Here,” said Mitsu, pointing, and I wouldn’t have been able to tell you if it was the same place we’d gone before, or somewhere else entirely.
We entered and this time the illumination was a bit more festive. Paper lanterns hung around the room, and there was Veruh Wang Ho, seated on a thronelike chair that was in some ways similar to the dragon throne of the Imperior. Her eyes glittered coldly when she saw the tapestry I had slung over my shoulder. Mordant was perched on the back of her chair, watching impassively.
“Remove him immediately,” she said. “This is not appropriate.”
I was stung by the criticism. “Would you have preferred we walk through the streets of Taikyo with an unconscious ruler slung across—”
“Remove. Him.” Each word was as ice.
I lay the tapestry down upon the floor. The Anaïs Ninjas moved in quickly, rolling him out as smoothly as they could. Unfortunately the blood upon his back had dried against the tapestry, making a sticky mess. His skin was terribly pale, and for a moment I thought we were too late. But then his chest rose and fell ever so slightly, and I heard an ugly rasping from within.
“Can you heal him, Noble Ho?” asked Mitsu.
“Do you think I should?”
“Yes.”
“Because you hope that he will be willing to undo the spell he placed upon your lover.”
>
“Yes,” she said again.
“Is there any other reason?”
Mitsu looked down and said softly, “Because of who he is… to me…” and she looked up. “And to you.”
To her, I wondered. Who is the Imperior to this woman whom I love with all my—
That was when it struck me with the force of a thunderbolt.
The bond that clearly existed between Veruh and Mitsu. The affection that I felt for Mitsu as compared to the far greater intensity of feeling I held for Veruh. And I realized at that point, even though it had not been as evident thanks to the white face makeup that Veruh wore, that there was a resemblance between the two.
Veruh Wang Ho was Mitsu’s mother.
I was in love, not with the princess, but with the queen. A dethroned, displaced queen, but still a queen to be sure. Or perhaps an Imperiess. Whatever it was she was called in these parts.
And I thought, Huh. Well done you. Moving up in the world, I daresay. No more falling in love with the daughters when you can be heels over head with the mothers.
Even as I tried to deal with this revelation, Veruh was looking down at the Imperior, her face inscrutable. “He once had potential, you know,” she said. She looked up at Mitsu. “If you,” and then she glanced around the room at the assembled sisters, “if any of you had known him in his younger days, when I knew him. So much potential. But his urge to retain power became a sick need within him.”
“Are you to eulogize him, my love, or help him?” I asked.
She turned her attention to me. “And you. I understand that you endeavored to betray Mitsu. To betray all of us. Is there any reason that I should not have the sisters kill you where you stand?”
I looked around as they glowered at me. Then I drew myself up, fixing a steady gaze upon her. “I did what I thought was best for her. I wanted better for Mitsu than this…” and I pointed around, “this shadow existence.”
“And what would you know of it?”
“Because I’ve lived a shadow existence most of my life,” I said. “I just carry mine within rather than without. And I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone… much less Mitsu. You spoke of the potential the Imperior had. What of the potential of his daughter? Is this,” and once more I pointed around the room, “is this a measure of her full potential?”