“It is,” I growled.
The guard still wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Captain Lakas believes it isn’t appropriate for you to be left alone with the foreigner for very long.”
“Tali,” Khine said in a low voice. “This isn’t a battle we want to fight.”
He was wrong about that, but I decided not to argue. He walked away, allowing the guards to lock the door behind him.
I dreamed of a child that evening—a girl with long hair and Agos’s eyes. Not a memory, not a ghost—nothing but a dream conjured by an exhausted mind. But she smiled as she reached for my hand, and the grief I wasn’t allowing myself to feel broke loose. I woke up in tears, my belly aching, a gnawing sensation that reached into the depths of my soul. I curled into a ball as the images from the dream faded into nothingness. It was strange to feel loss when nothing had truly been ripped away from you. I felt like an intruder prodding at a sorrow that wasn’t mine. When the haze receded and my thoughts became clear, I thought—as I had hundreds of times since his death—about what I did to Agos. I thought about what I could have done differently and if there was anything I could still do to make it right. I let my mind play over the memory of his mangled body on the floor, all those details burned into my brain—the sweat on his stiffening body, the blood on the floor—so that I could never again forget how power could turn a lapse of judgment into a hole big enough for a grave. If I was careless yet again, there would be room for a thousand more.
Three knocks sounded at the door. I rolled over to grab my coat before answering it. Khine and Rayyel stood outside, huffing into the cold air. My guards were nowhere in sight.
“How did you chase them off?” I asked.
Rai grumbled something under his breath.
“You really don’t want to know,” Khine said. “They’ll be back soon.”
“It was a step too far, Lamang,” Rai managed, his face beet red.
“I merely implied that the queen and her king might want a moment’s privacy, and if they want to just do a quick patrol for a few minutes…”
“His mouth ran ahead of him,” Rai growled.
“It always does. Let’s go before I have to come up with a better excuse.”
We made our way through the gardens until we hit the end of a wall. Khine vaulted up first—I scrambled after him before turning around to help Rai. He already looked like he was regretting the whole thing. The castle walls were covered with vines, which helped with every drop-off. We reached a section that ran downhill, over another compound where I could see fires and pavilions.
“My mother’s camp,” Rai said under his breath.
“She refused Warlord Lushai’s hospitality? Typical Ikessar.”
He stared at me.
“Sorry,” I grumbled. “Bad habit.”
“It is likely that she’ll entertain him if he begs long enough,” Rai continued. “She’ll want to see him begging. The war left plenty of wounds. Warlord Lushai has committed his fair share of atrocities.”
“And yet you still trust him?”
“He maintains that it was your father who…” Rai stopped talking, as if realizing he didn’t want to bring up my father after all. I didn’t remember having been around him this long without an argument. It occurred to me for the first time that he was afraid of me—not because I was Oren-yaro, but because I was his wife, the woman who shared his bed for years. I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. It wasn’t the sort of thing a bride would ever want from her husband. I didn’t even want it from my people.
Khine paused up ahead. He turned around, gestured sharply, and slid down the wall. I dropped down after him, landing behind a tall bush. Just as I heard Rai amble after us, I heard a familiar voice from behind the gate.
“You implied I had a choice, Beloved Princess.” Belfang’s. I felt my blood curdle.
“I have never met anyone so daft,” Ryia replied. “What were you hoping to gain?”
“Didn’t you want to see for yourself if the Beloved Queen Talyien was true or not? If her heart is false, or simply misguided?” Belfang asked. “I did. I thought this was what you meant when you said—”
“Consider yourself lucky… you assisted my son in the Empire, and for that you may keep your head. But I might no longer be generous should I see or hear from you again. Go.”
I saw Belfang’s figure shuffle forward in an awkward bow. “Beloved Princess,” he said before he left. I caught a hint of something—a shadow of a sneer.
I turned around. “We need to follow him,” I whispered.
“But Chiha…” Rai began.
“I feel like I’m going to regret this, but… you need to go to her yourself. Take Namra, for safety’s sake.”
“And you?”
“Khine and I need to see what that man’s up to,” I replied. “He works for Yuebek and Yuebek is hiding from us. Why would he hide? None of this feels right.”
Rai grabbed my sleeve. “Beloved Queen,” he started. I thought he was going to argue. Instead, he tilted his head down to kiss me.
The movement caught me by surprise. I flinched and pulled away as soon as his lips touched mine. “We need to go,” I said.
“Please be careful.”
Khine ran a hand through his hair as I caught up with him. “I think he went that way,” he croaked out. His eyes looked distant.
It was tricky trying to stay as far away from Belfang as possible without losing sight of him. The road became darker the further from the castle and camps we got, until eventually the only source of light came from the moon shining over the right fork of the River Agos.
We went around the low road, the one that led straight to the river docks. Rain from the past few days had near-obliterated the path, blanketing it with a sheen of frozen mud. It was the sort of thing I should’ve noticed if I visited the province more often. The Baraji openly pilfered from their coffers, so that coin needed for infrastructure repairs often went to their own castle instead. This was somehow always reported as public maintenance or somesuch nonsense. I knew about the fraud, but my quest for Rayyel in those days left me little energy to argue with this particular clan. It was the way they had always done things, Arro told me—a privilege Lushai took advantage of because of his close ties with my father. And I hated dealing with Lushai, hated having to be in the same room as Chiha. It was just easier to sign the papers and pretend all future problems were theirs alone. Now that I could see the results of my own neglect, I wondered if I was lying to myself about doing better as queen. The last year had left me a shadow. Could I be what I never was?
I turned my attention to the river, swollen to twice the size it was when I first came home. The street sloped downhill, and we came upon an alley connected to a strip of dock. Sudden laughter obscured the current, and I smelled smoke laced with cloves and incense. There was a small shrine to Akaterru in an alcove, where thin candles hung from metal grilles, lit by the faithful in the hopes that the god would grant them blessings and good fortune.
“Shit,” Khine murmured. “I can’t see him.”
“Figures,” I replied. I stuffed my hands into my pockets, my breath turning white as I glanced around. Despite the cold weather, laundry was flapping above us, rags forgotten for the night. A cat peered back at me from the rooftop, yellow eyes gleaming.
I strode up the steps leading to the alley, following the sound of laughter to a row of gambling houses. Men were gathered in groups out on the street, playing dice and cards in lantern light while drinking from clay jars. Women with painted faces hung about, tittering as they draped over the men. Despite the cold, their robes were half open.
“Why do I always find myself in places like these when I’m with you?” I asked.
Khine gave a soft smile. “That’s what I feel about you and dragons.”
I scanned the buildings and spotted a noodle house. Tables of various shapes and sizes were scattered on the street, right outside the windows. Belfang was on the other side of the glass, s
tanding between two other patrons. I started after him.
“Hold on, lady,” one of the men from the tables called out. “You look like someone I’d spend my money on. How about you give us a second here?” He tried to grab my sleeve.
I drew my dagger, turned around, and stabbed the table right between a bowl of peeled sugarcane and his arm. “Damn,” I said. “Missed.”
The man pulled back. “You fucking cunt. If you think you can get away with this—”
I glanced through the window. I could see Belfang sitting down and ordering a meal, which gave me time to think. If this commotion continued, he could very well just slip out and run off again. And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to tail him through these streets the whole night—it was too easy to lose sight of him. I swore under my breath before turning back to the man and giving my sweetest smile. “I’m sorry,” I said. “Was that rude of me?”
“Bitch,” the man hissed. “Do you want me to call the guards?” His companions grunted in agreement.
I grasped the hilt of the dagger and, without extracting it from the table, grabbed a stool with my other hand and sat down.
“What are you doing?” Khine hissed behind me.
I ignored him. “What are you playing?” I asked.
They threw dubious looks at each other. “Monkey-hands,” one finally said, glancing at the man I’d accosted with an expression that was almost apologetic.
“Perfect,” I said. “I love Monkey-hands. Let me join in.”
Such a reasonable request, coming from a woman brandishing a dagger, was more than enough for them. One of the men began dealing the cards, and we placed bets. I named a substantial amount. Eyes bulged. Some of the whores, drawn by the talk of money, approached cautiously. When they saw me playing, they began to insult the gamblers, daring them to match my wager.
“Let me rephrase what I just said,” Khine grumbled, waving a woman away without even looking at her. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m playing, sweetness,” I said. “Be a dear and keep away from the window.”
“I’m trying to block you from the sun, my love.”
I pointed at the sky. “It’s the dead of the night.”
“With your complexion, dearest, I didn’t want to take chances.”
The men were looking at us in confusion. I smiled. “We’re tourists,” I explained.
“And you came to Bara, of all places?” one asked. “What’s this shithole got that’s worth coming all the way out here for?”
“Sutan’s the spot,” another sniffed. “Better streets. Nicer bridges. Warlord Buhawi’s a half-decent lord, too. An improvement over his father.”
“And in the meantime, old Lushai’s just getting fatter and richer every year,” a third barked. “We’re hoping he dies soon, but then Nijo’s not much better than him. The best we can hope for is that he steals less from public funds. Thank the gods the queen is back. Hopefully she puts those bastards on a leash. I was worried for a while there, thinking we’d go back to the way things were.”
“The war, you mean?” I asked casually.
“The war was shit,” the man said, chewing off a huge hunk of sugarcane. He ground it between his teeth. “I was just a kid, but—the damn royals, dragging us along with their problems! Why can’t they just get along?” He spat to the side, sending bits of sugarcane flying.
“You know what I think?” the first man broke in. “Queen’s not going to do a damn thing. She never did. She spent all of five years doing nothing but obsessing over her husband.”
I felt my face twitch as I shifted the cards in my hand.
“They’re together now,” his friend replied. “Maybe things will be better with Dragonlord Rayyel around.”
“You never know with the bastards.”
We played the cards. I won. I bet higher, and talk turned away from the royals—to my relief—to the weather and the price of rice and rooster fights. On purpose, I butchered my play; the money I lost drew attention. Players from the other tables crowded around us.
“Damn,” I said. “I don’t have the coin to pay that back.” I turned away half a cup of clear coconut liquor, offered in sympathy.
“Shouldn’t have bet so much if you didn’t,” one of the men snarled.
I shrugged. “I got carried away. Will you take something else in exchange? Something worth more?”
The men traded glances. “Like what?”
I pulled the dagger out and ran my fingers over the blade before I replied. “A mage,” I said in a low voice.
Their eyes flashed, but they kept their mouths shut. I smiled.
“We’re in Bara,” I continued. “Warlord Lushai, like the departed Warlord Yeshin, is a traditionalist. His stance has always been to maintain Jin-Sayeng according to the old rules. Mages aren’t welcome here.” I slid the dagger back into its sheath. “A mage will fetch a fine price with the city watch. I know for a fact that they offer rewards for turning in persons of interest to the warlord. What if I deliver a mage into your hands?”
“That’s ridiculous,” one of the men eventually said. “Even if you know such a person, how can you prove that they are one?”
I got up, lifted the heavy wooden stool, and flung it at the window behind me.
Glass exploded as it flew straight at Belfang, who was just about to sit down to enjoy a second bowl of noodles. He threw up a shield spell before he realized what was happening. The stool slammed against the thin blue barrier and shattered into pieces upon impact.
The men roared. Belfang’s eyes fell on me, but it was too late. I hung back as they thundered through the door after him.
“You’re evil,” Khine commented as we followed the mob down the street.
I smirked. “He’ll talk now.”
“What makes you think that?”
I placed a finger on my lips before motioning for him to stay back. I crossed the threshold to the jailhouse, where the city watch yelled at spectators to go home. I caught sight of the gamblers grinning amongst themselves.
“You’ve a good eye, woman,” one said, showing me a hefty purse. “Consider your debt paid.”
“Next time I’ll sweep your pockets clean,” I promised.
They laughed and strode back out to the street. I glanced behind me. Belfang was in chains, his face like a garden in mid-May—decorated in an explosion of red and purple. Even his fists were bruised—he had been foolish enough to try to cast another spell as the men bore down on him, and they had responded by attempting to break his wrists.
He looked at me, seething, a trickle of blood dripping down one side of his cheek. His hooked nose looked broken. I gazed back, unaffected. I couldn’t look at him without remembering Khine’s mother and what he had done to the villagers back in Phurywa. I liked to imagine that if I had my way, I would use his head to mop up the same blood he helped spill.
I walked up to the captain. “Are you transferring him straight to Toriue?”
“In time,” she said without looking at me. She was bent over her desk, scribbling over paperwork. “Move along with the rest of them.”
The lobby was mostly empty now, save for two other guards and another prisoner in the single cell in the corner. I cleared my throat and took one step closer to the captain.
She looked at me in irritation. “I said—”
I flipped my hand palm-side up, showing the wolf’s-head ring that identified the warlord of Oren-yaro. I had worn it upside down since leaving the castle. The captain’s eyes widened. I was suddenly glad to be back in the part of the world where the symbol still meant something. Her lips quivered, as if she wasn’t quite sure if she believed it or not, but a moment later she dropped her head in a quick bow. “My lady,” she started. “Beloved Queen…”
“I’d like to take custody of the mage.”
Belfang lifted his head.
“That is—if he promises to cooperate.” I turned to Belfang. “You’re still working for him, aren’t you?” I said,
switching to Zirano. “I want to know everything.”
Belfang looked away. He never really did like looking straight at me. “Just leave me be.”
I strode up to where he was chained and sat down on the closest bench. I crossed my legs. “You and I haven’t really spoken.”
He chuckled. “What’s there to talk about? You were convinced I was a villain the moment you laid eyes on me.”
“You don’t consider the things you’ve done villainous?”
“Says the queen famed for her decapitations and torture,” he sniffed.
I continued smiling back at him, inwardly wondering whether the accusations would ever lose their sting. “Meting out justice is not the same as using helpless elders who trusted that you only had their best interests at heart,” I replied. “But that’s all done now. Nothing we do can bring them back. But you—right now, you can help prevent a bloodbath.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do?” he asked.
“You think that you can achieve that by continuing to work for someone like Yuebek?”
“I told you. I have nothing to say to you.”
I clicked my tongue. “Maybe you think he can help you. That he’ll hear about what the crude Jins have done to one of his servants. A pity that he can’t lift a finger if he doesn’t know what happened to you. The riot back there—how many of those happen every night in these streets? Do you honestly think word of it will ever reach the Baraji? You must’ve seen how little they care for their own.”
That got his attention. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if you disappear within the bowels of the city, no one’s going to be the wiser.” I crossed my arms. “I can order them to dispose of you now if I want to.”
“Your laws…”
“Are you really going to take your chances with—as you said—a queen famed for her decapitations and torture?”
He licked his lips. “Damn you.”
The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 15
