He slapped his knee with glee, turning around to the quivering Anino and Karia as if inviting them to join in his merriment. “Qun—you remember Qun, don’t you? He went missing, I believe, not that I care…” His eyes twinkled, which told me he knew exactly what had happened to the Anzhao governor. “I told Qun how surprising it is that a man like Yeshin would bear a daughter like you. For your position, for your education, for all that your father must’ve taught you, you remain so trusting, and so inconveniently… ignorant. That one…” And here, he pointed at Khine, as if just noticing him for the first time.
Khine didn’t move. He was holding his scabbard across his body, sword inside, as if afraid that to draw it now would be to lose the only weapon we had between us.
“Yes,” Yuebek continued, eyes narrowing. “The Shang Azi dog. What happened to the rest of your companions? Let me guess. Out of all, this is the only one that’s left. This one! A dead mother, debts piled higher than your dragon-towers, and you’d entrust him with your secrets? A con artist, of all people?”
“You’re rambling,” I snapped. “The boy, Yuebek. What do you need from him?”
He laughed and straightened himself. “Your husband’s bastard’s mother was planted in the Citadel,” he continued, his voice growing serious. “Her father was your father’s closest friend, wasn’t he? For him to have his daughter live amongst people who would’ve once roasted his liver over hot coals, simply so she could get close to your betrothed, is so brazen it’s almost admirable! And your husband! Your sweet, foolish bastard—quite your match in many ways, isn’t he? Just as simple-minded. Just as easily trapped. Fell for the bait like a hound, driven to lust like any man with a whore. What?” he snapped, raising his voice as Karia tried to cover Anino’s ears. “You don’t want the brat hearing about how he was made? You Jinseins are so sentimental.”
“So Lushai worked behind my father’s back,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Like you expected me to be surprised. And now I suppose you’re using this scandal to blackmail him into compliance. All well and good, Yuebek. So you’ve got a handful of warlords leashed. You don’t think the Ikessars will try to preserve what’s been theirs for all these centuries?”
“The Ikessars and what army?”
“The same mistake my father made,” I said, my eyes locking with Khine for a moment. I pressed my lips together. “The Ikessars may not have a sizable number of soldiers, but one word and you’ll have the rest of the nation united against you. I know you once told me you had an army, Yuebek. Twenty thousand, you said, along with the rest of the warlords who would back this nonsense. But that still leaves thousands upon thousands of minor lords and common men who would oppose you, not to mention the proud and haughty warlords you can’t blackmail. You don’t know how Jinseins think. They would sooner burn this whole nation to the ground than submit to a foreign master. Besides…” I clicked my tongue. “I don’t see your soldiers anywhere. A pity. Mine are on their way as we speak.”
“I admire your fire, but did you really think I would fall for that?”
Of course I knew he wouldn’t. The bastard was too much like my father. He enjoyed the verbal sparring, was in love with hearing himself talk. So while his eyes were on me, waiting for an opening to beat me down and prove me wrong, Khine had inched his way to where Anino and Karia cowered. All three were on their way out of the door before Yuebek saw what we were doing.
The prince’s eyes widened, the mad look in them turning vile. Even though he always appeared to be one step ahead of me, I was starting to recognize whenever I had momentarily outwitted him. Khine’s diversion gave me time; he threw his sheathed sword. I caught it in mid-air. I whirled around, drawing the blade just as Yuebek lunged for them, and cut down, grazing the man across the thigh. He howled in pain. I caught a whiff of foul-smelling blood dripping down his open wound, one that didn’t close in on itself like the last time I fought him. Did it have anything to do with the place, or the lack of mages around? It reminded me of when I thought I’d almost killed him—despite the power he displayed, he wounded as easily as any other opponent I’ve had. I pulled my lips back into a grin as I stepped to the side and braced myself for his counter-attack.
There was none. With an irritated sigh, Yuebek lifted his hands. Just as Khine stepped through the doorway, Yuebek dropped them, and the door slammed shut with such force the floors shook. I heard Khine try to tear it down from the other side.
“What did you think that would do?” he asked, turning to me.
I opened my mouth to respond. Now his attack came, a spell that came hurtling at me from out of nowhere, that filled me with the sensation of crashing into a window. I realized, just before I struck the ground and darkness set in, that this man was ten times more powerful than we thought he was. Loathing him was not enough.
I should be terrified.
The smell of mothballs was the first thing I noticed.
Mothballs, so strong I nearly had trouble breathing at first. My hands and feet were bound. I reacted by straining against the silken rope, attempting to kick out; I managed to turn to the side and saw Yuebek lying beside me, a book in his hands. He casually turned a page.
“You—” I hissed.
“You’re not naked,” he pointed out. “I didn’t touch you.”
“—if I get out of this—”
“Exactly why you’re all tied up. You’re unbelievably troublesome, my dear.” He now glanced at me, pulling himself up to cross one leg over the other. He, too, was fully clothed, which didn’t really do much to suppress the shudder of revulsion that ran through me. The smell of mothballs was coming from him.
“Your language is so unbelievably primitive,” he continued, waving the book around. I caught the writing on the spine—a Sagar book, though it was too dark for me to tell which one. Not that it mattered. I tested the rope again, twisting my wrists.
“You can’t expect me to stay bound forever,” I said evenly. “At some point, you’ll have to let me go. And then I’ll kill you. And it goes without saying, but I will enjoy every minute of it.”
“I know,” he replied in the most sombre tone I have ever heard. He flashed me a smile. “A shame, really. I was looking forward to a proper marriage match, a world of difference from the last one I was forced into. Of all the people in the world, I thought, this one, this woman would understand the allure of power, even as it seeks to isolate you from the world!” He reached out to cup my chin. I tried to push against him, against the muggy scent rising from his pores—there was a touch of corpse-stench to it, almost sweet, which made me gag more. I was afraid he would kiss me and prepared to attack him for it.
But Yuebek knew that I would. Mad, but not a fool. He simply pressed his fingers into my jaw, nails digging into my skin. “You act so virginal,” he lamented. “I was looking forward to… more, when I heard of your repute. Zhu was an utter failure in that, too. Used to lie on her back and count the lizards on the ceiling. I had to get up and stab them with the fire poker to get her to pay attention. Well. One can’t have everything, I suppose. You realize I could have you if I wanted to. But I’m learning to control my urges. It’s been pointed out to me, more than once, that raping you would have dire consequences in the eyes of this abominable nation.”
“How thoughtful of you,” I hissed.
He let my jaw go, pushing away with a snort. “I can’t just take over—I have to win the hearts of the people, too. I don’t know how Jinseins think, you said. You continue to underestimate me. Another disappointment. You’re going to have to stop undermining me when we’re married. Don’t you understand?” This time, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me to him. He pressed his head over mine and lightly stroked my hair.
I struck his chest with the ropes. He only laughed; his embrace was like a vice. If he wasn’t using spells, I might’ve been able to wrap my arms around him and strangle him with my own bonds. As it was, I could only writhe in his grasp. “You and I, we were meant to rule toge
ther and create a legacy that will carry us through time. Your father knew it! Ahh, he knew it so well. Did I tell you I was skeptical when I first met him? My mother had told me everything, about their plans, the offer they had agreed to in the past… but all I saw was this old, wrinkled man. My own father, I thought, could crush him with his little finger. If he had come to me grovelling like an ant like every other official I’ve met, I would’ve done it myself. Poisoned his wine and danced on his corpse. I have no patience with bootlickers.
“But the arrogant bastard seemed incapable of understanding the difference between your small nation and my father’s empire. He didn’t quiver. He didn’t beg. He was courteous—he acknowledged the strength I could bring to this land—but he seemed like he would’ve taken my rejection just as easily as my cooperation. A proud man, Yeshin, but he made me see how dedication and persistence can catapult one into greatness.”
“How much greatness can you achieve taking over a primitive nation?” I managed.
Yuebek looked me in the eyes. “You see? This is where I lose you. My lovely queen, if the Jinsein people can be made to follow your father’s footsteps, if I can make them see reason, imagine. We could grow. There are instabilities to the north, past the borders. The Gasparian warlords are at each other’s throats, divided into their own states. Anarchy! With an organized force, we can capture their lands for our own, and in time, we could have our own empire, one that can rival even my father’s! And he’ll have to see, then—he’ll have to acknowledge how wrong he was for overlooking me, for choosing my brothers over me…!”
He began to laugh. Tears poured down the side of his face. I don’t think he even noticed. “You know, don’t you? You know what it feels like. To have so much potential, but be ground under the heels of the lesser, of people who haven’t done an ounce of the work you’ve had to do! I admired your father, but I could see from the beginning how he thought so little of you, too, that he would need me to make you whole! I know, I know! But don’t fret, my darling. Time is on our side. Everything I need to make this happen for us is in the palm of my hand. Years of planning have finally led me here!” His eyes sought the curve of my shoulder.
I struck the spell again, shaking myself free. He dropped the shields and I fell back into the mattress, my head on the silken pillows that smelled of death.
“Time…” Yuebek repeated, rising from the bed. “First. The dissolution of your marriage with that bastard. Jin-Sayeng will understand what they’ve been doing wrong this whole time, appointing such men as rulers. Weak, spineless worms, and for all their talk, incapable of fighting their own desires. See who supports him now when they realize he has neither power nor virtue. Your little trick down there only delays the inevitable. We’ll find the boy yet, and once we have him, once all of these treacheries have been exposed, we’ll take over. We’ll rule, my queen, side by side.”
He rang the bell by the door. I sat up as servants entered, bowing first to him, and then to me. They untied the ropes.
“I can’t make you love me,” Yuebek said with the sort of wistfulness that would’ve drawn my sympathy had it come from anyone else. But he said it with that manic look in his eyes, and it was all I could do not to choke on my own vomit. “Qun had his own ideas about how to make you more compliant, but the fact that you’re still here and he’s not tells me there’s no sense pursuing them any further. You’ve proven your point. But we’re close, my dear. Too close. You don’t shit where you eat.”
The servants stepped back as I found myself freed. “Clean up and rest,” he continued, stroking his trimmed beard. “I hope you’ve had enough of scuttling through the sewers with rats. I’ll tolerate no more of it, not from the woman I have to rule with. We’re royalty. We need to be better than the common folk.”
“Ironic for a man who killed his wife,” I said, getting up. I started scanning the room for things to throw at him. But other than the bed, the room was bare, and there were three servants between us.
“It was a most efficient thing,” he replied easily. “I wish I could’ve made you see just how efficient. Then your precious Rayyel would be dead now. But no—this would be harder if we had killed him. It all turned out for the best. Disgracing him is better. You see? I can admit mistakes, too.” He giggled. “Tomorrow, you’ll meet my council. Perhaps if I can’t change your mind, they can.”
“I don’t see how. You said it yourself, Yuebek. You can’t make me do anything I don’t want to.”
His eyes narrowed. “I still haven’t tried fucking you into submission,” he chortled. “We’ll get there, my queen. Who knows? Maybe by then you won’t hate it.” With one last barking laugh, he left.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE COURT OF THE MAD PRINCE
I tried to learn what I could about my new prison in the ensuing hours. Once the initial shock had passed, I was almost calm. Knowing Yuebek couldn’t be more than a few paces away was unsettling, but then so had been knowing the madman was coming for me. Why fight the inevitable? I lacked the power to stop him, certainly not when I was his prisoner.
So I turned to the only activity that made sense—I studied the walls. Namra had done the same in my father’s secret chamber. Although I was what she called blind to the agan, imbuing spells still left physical traces. My search revealed faint etchings of runes near the floor, ones that looked like nothing more than a child’s scratches. They glowed when my fingers touched them.
More marked the windowsill. I ran my nails over the rough edges before I turned my attention to the street below. It was too dark for me to make out any details, but I recognized the rooftops well enough to know we were still in Bara. I wondered if the runes made a spell that would stop me from breaking the windows. Perhaps Yuebek wanted to impress me at how much he’d thought things through.
He was going to have to try harder.
Namra told me that the runes in Oren-yaro were built right into the walls to stop people from attempting to tamper with them. I walked around the room and spotted the book that Yuebek had left on the bed. I picked it up and returned to the window. “Sorry, Magister,” I said as I struck the runes with the hard bamboo along the book spine, sending splinters flying.
The runes were still there. I frowned and tried another angle. More splinters, exploding with a scent of iron—or blood. The runes began to give off a frantic glow. I took that to mean that my assault was working and put all my strength behind one last blow, hoping I could take a huge chunk off and render the spell inert.
The next flurry of sparks was followed by darkness. My mind fell blank.
When I was able to gather my thoughts again, it was daylight. My eyes skipped towards the bed.
It had changed from a flat, Zarojo-style platform to a familiar four-poster bed set over velvet rugs. I took a quick glance at the wide expanse of the room, clearly not the same one I had just been in, before tearing for the door to confirm my suspicions. It swung with one tap, as if it had just been waiting for me.
Somehow, inexplicably, I was back in that room in Yuebek’s dungeon. I spotted the piano, the arrangement of sofas, the Hanza game, pieces still intact. The bonytongue swam in the tank, unperturbed. It stared back with one eye as I peered through the murky water, its mouth opening and closing. I wondered why it was still alive—the water seemed dirtier than last time. I made my way to the piano, my hands drifting over the ivory keys. They were warm.
“Taraji,” I called.
There was no reply. I felt relief at first, followed by a tinge of disappointment. Seeing apparitions might be a sign of a fevered mind, but I was starting to suspect that madness was much better than loneliness. The brother I had never known was company at least, a hallucination that wouldn’t try to hurt or betray me. And unlike walls, he talked back.
I found myself drifting to the door, which I remembered led to the library that led down to the dungeons. The handle wouldn’t turn. “Good,” I grumbled. “I didn’t like that place, anyway. Are you listening
, Yuebek? Your tricks aren’t going to work. You should learn by now.” Not that I expected him to respond, either; he would know how much I preferred lively arguments to hollow silence.
The bonytongue rose to the edge of the tank, gulping at something on the surface of the water. I returned and noticed the bodies of smaller fish, floating along a trail of slime and foam. The bonytongue snapped them up greedily, its low jaw quivering with each bite.
I drew away in disgust and noticed a new door directly across the library. It was painted red. Boredom won over caution. The knob turned this time.
The door opened to a hallway, lit by torches with agan -blue flames dancing along the edge. At the end, it curved into a chamber lined entirely with glass. Light barely made it through the murky green water on the other side. As I wondered how it was possible to have so much water in that tank, a huge shadow lunged at me. A creature twice the size of a grown man struck the glass from the other side, just strong enough to make it quiver without breaking it. I wasn’t sure if it was a fish or a reptile—the shape reminded me of the crocodiles that would sun themselves along the banks of River Agos. A sea serpent, perhaps. I found the courage to peer closely, but it was gone.
Another shadow crossed the water, revealing a monstrous carp. Its skin was a dull pink, flecked with spots. It turned on its side, struggling to swim through a cloud of mud. Before it could turn upright, something leaped out from the sand to grab it.
The attack was short-lived. The carp’s mangled body flopped between the jaws of an eel, equally gigantic. It turned to the glass as it chewed, razor-sharp teeth scraping the carp’s pink flesh. The stripes on its face glowed. There was an almost human quality to its eyes—it reminded me of how the warlords looked at me sometimes, which was disconcerting.
The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 17
