The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng

by K. S. Villoso

  “I’ll shut the bitch up for you, Deng,” one of the men said, approaching us.

  I tightened my grip around my sword. “Deng,” I repeated. “Deng Kedlati.”

  Eyepatch man smiled. “You know me. But of course you do. My reputation precedes me.” He stared at the sword some more, and the grin grew wider. “And I know you. Grandmother was right. Talyien Orenar, she said, would never turn her back on her son. I take it you received my package.”

  “You,” I said. “You sent the finger.”

  He bowed.

  “You have my son.” I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to beg. He might have a blade to my neck, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of twisting it further. I untied the sword from my belt and dropped it. “Bring me to him.”

  He picked the sword up and smiled. “As you wish, Beloved Queen.”

  The bandits took me further north, deeper into the lands the Kedlati Faction had staked out for themselves. A stone’s throw from Burbatan. I gazed up at the hills and the terraced rice fields, the numbness spreading inside. The thought of what awaited ahead burrowed like a tick, feeding, growing fat on my fears.

  We were on the road for a few days when we chanced upon the first merchant caravan, on the main road leading to Shirrokaru. The bandits wasted no time driving the horses straight into the road, blades flashing. As the blood scent drenched the air, Anya approached me, balancing herself perfectly as she nudged the horse with her legs. Unlike me, they had bound her hands behind her back. “If you want to escape now…” she began.

  “They have my son,” I said.

  “You know that’s a lie.”

  I closed my eyes before reaching into my pocket. I handed her the finger without a word.

  Anya’s expression barely changed. “So?”

  “It’s my boy.”

  “If they had a boy with them, wouldn’t you have seen him already?”

  “Deeper in their lands, then. In some town they own. I can’t take the chance.”

  “You’ve got to ditch your wretched offspring,” she said. “He’s a weakness, don’t you see? They take him from you and tell you anything they want, and you’ll listen in the hopes they have what you seek. It’s almost too easy. You’re a queen. Take control.”

  How? I wanted to ask her. With what power? “If I try to escape, I don’t know what they’ll do to you,” I said, to stop myself from falling into despair.

  She smirked. “You do care about me. I’m touched.”

  “Don’t be absurd. I just think your squealing would be very unpleasant.”

  She leaned over the saddle. “I’m surprised by how your sense of duty now extends to me. I would’ve dragged you back to the prince by your hair. No wonder Khine is so conflicted.”

  “I’d rather not talk about him.”

  “You wouldn’t?” Such words, of course, seemed like an invitation for her to do exactly that. She drew her horse closer.

  In the distance, the sound of battle continued.

  “I’ve known that man longer than you have,” she continued. “Since he was a boy, all fuzzy-lipped and acting older than his years. Jiro always found him amusing. Little Philosopher, he’d call him. There was a time he wouldn’t be caught dead associating with people like you.”

  “You mean royals.”

  “Nobles. Politicians. Privileged folk who don’t think twice about turning the lives of us lesser folk upside down while they get their affairs in order.” Anya nodded over to the dying merchants, a smile on her lips.

  “I never wanted this,” I said.

  “And yet you’re still here. You knew it wasn’t clean hands that put you on that throne and you’re still here. But then why shouldn’t you be? Why give it up when the whole world already revolves around you? Beloved Queen, precious princess… even when you mean well, you barrel through without realizing what you do to others. You want to rule as queen, and you want to say it was the goodness of your heart and the purity of your intentions that got you there. I get it—I respect that. Fuck, I don’t think I know a woman who wouldn’t want to be in your spot in a heartbeat. But yours isn’t a life earned, and you don’t seem to understand this. It was clear as far back as Anzhao. I tried to warn Khine, but he wouldn’t listen. The man both hates and admires you so much he doesn’t know what to do about it. You should’ve just put him out of his misery and fucked him already. If you had seen him when you left him there in Onni…”

  I turned away from her. “You’re really cutting it close, Anya,” I grumbled.

  “Of course I am,” she laughed. “But isn’t it inconvenient? Look at me. I just do what I want. Maybe it’ll be easier for you if you do the same thing. If you’re going to take from people, if you’re going to make their lives miserable to make yours better, don’t wrap it up in all these justifications. I steal, and I call it stealing. I kill because I want what isn’t mine. And if I die in the attempt, so what? I’ve lived a good life. Jiro will burn a candle for me and the children we’ve lost and then go find himself a young tart to marry again, hopefully while he can still get it up. And so life goes on.”

  “Anya…”

  “I have no intention of wallowing in sob stories,” she sniffed, before cocking her head to the side. “I believe we’re being followed by one of yours. I caught sight of her when I was making water this morning. Thin, plain woman, dressed in strange robes. Face like a horse—”

  “Namra.” I frowned. “And don’t say that. She must’ve guessed I was headed this way.”

  “Damn woman sure knows how to keep herself out of sight. I don’t think these idiots have noticed her.”

  “She would. She’s a mage,” I said.

  “I’ve never been too fond of mages, but suddenly I’m thankful you’ve got one on your side.”

  “I don’t know how much good she’ll do us now.” I fell silent as the bandits returned from the road, joyous faces streaked with blood. A good day for them, a sign that they were blessed by the gods. That murder and robbery could be seen as a blessing was more than blasphemous, but I couldn’t very well tell them that. The nation was broken everywhere I looked. One more crack was nothing.

  The sun was halfway up the sky when we finally reached the bandits’ village, all stinking of sweat and dirt. A young girl came to take my horse. I all but stumbled off the saddle.

  “Don’t accuse us of forgetting our manners,” Deng said, patting my back as he undid my ropes. “You’re a guest here, Queen Talyien.”

  “My son,” I said. “Where is he?”

  “In due time,” he replied with a smile.

  He led me down to the middle of the village, where a feast had been laid out in anticipation of their arrival. The food was plain, simple fare: rice with boiled eggs and smoked, sweet sausages, snail stew in a peppery gravy, and roasted wild chicken so tough it could cut your teeth. I barely touched anything.

  They led me to my quarters, a small hut overlooking a creek. Judging from the upturned clay jars in the common room and the unwashed dishes, still dotted with grease and dried grains of rice, it looked like it had been vacated hurriedly by some family for my purposes.

  I heard scratching coming from the window on the other side of the hut. With a frown, I cracked the shutters open. Anya whistled. “What did I tell you?” she said. “No sight of a little royal boy anywhere. I looked around.”

  “They let you out of their sight?”

  “They don’t seem to care what I do here,” she said. “Probably convinced I won’t escape. I’ve been working on that leader of theirs, Deng. I bet I can have him on his back in half an hour if I wanted to.”

  “What would your husband say?”

  “That it’s a necessity, born from troubled times, and it’s only a pity that his poor angel would have to go through—”

  “Forget I said anything.”

  She laughed, before growing serious. “That day you used yourself as bait so I’d leave Lamang alone—you really didn’t think I wou
ld hurt him, did you? All we needed from him was the bastard. Prince Yuebek doesn’t give a damn about him. I do consider him one of ours, and we protect our own.”

  “Who knows what I believe anymore,” I said in a low voice.

  “You must’ve believed his life was in danger for you to do what you did. I didn’t realize you cared for him so much. I mean, I’d guessed it, but…”

  I cleared my throat. “I didn’t think you cared about what I thought.”

  “It just occurred to me to check if you’re holding any grudges before we go through with this.” She gave a soft whistle. I heard rustling from around the hut; the door opened and Namra walked in like an invited guest.

  I slammed the door shut and dragged a stool to keep it in place. Behind me, Anya jumped over the windowsill, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

  “Beloved Queen,” Namra said. “I’m glad you’re not hurt.”

  “Namra, I can’t leave. Thanh—”

  “Is not here,” she continued.

  “I told her everything,” Anya added. “She agrees with me. No boy, nothing. They’re manipulating you like a puppet on strings. We have to get out of here.”

  I swallowed. “The finger—”

  “Let me see,” Namra said.

  I went back for my things and found it. I couldn’t even look at it anymore and turned my back as Namra inspected it.

  “Perfectly preserved,” she continued. “You’re sure it’s Thanh’s?”

  “As sure as the woman who birthed him.”

  “I won’t argue. But my queen…” She approached me with the finger folded inside a cloth and bowed. “There are better ways to find out. You have to be where they don’t want you.”

  I took the cloth and placed it back in my pocket. “What do you mean?”

  “Deng Kedlati is here now, but they’ve had the town of Burbatan under siege for days. They have another leader.”

  “You think we should go there, on our own terms.”

  Namra nodded.

  “We’ll have to find somewhere to hide first,” I said. “Until we come up with a plan to break through the siege. There’s a temple near the town.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “I’ve been there before,” I said.

  Namra pulled her sleeves up, revealing her thin arms. “We shouldn’t waste time. Anya, do you have everything?”

  Anya reached back over the window to fetch a wooden bucket filled with water and two candles. I frowned. “Do I wear that bucket on my head and pretend they can’t see me?”

  Anya burst out laughing. Even Namra managed a small smile. “I’m going to cast a spell, one that will tear a small hole through the agan fabric and allow us to walk straight through to a spot I’ve prepared on the other side. It wouldn’t be far from here, and it’s right on the path leading to the temple of Akaterru at the base of the hill.”

  I frowned. “Let’s pretend I actually understood any of that. I’m not sure I’m comfortable with what I just heard.”

  “I’ll be right beside you the whole time, my queen, and I’ve done this before. Once.”

  “You’re not helping ease my mind here, priestess.”

  “Do you happen to have any other ideas?”

  “If you can grab my father’s sword from Kedlati…”

  “There are situations where it is safer for you not to have any sort of bludgeoning tool in hand.”

  “Excuse me, priestess, but you don’t bludgeon with that sword.”

  “I’m almost sure you’d find a way, my queen.” She turned to Anya. “I can only take one person through. You’ll have to make your way to the temple by yourself.”

  “I’ll get the sword,” Anya said. “I’ve seen where they keep it.”

  “Knowing you, you’ll run off and sell it first chance you get.”

  She smiled. “You’ll just have to trust me. Do you want to stay here forever?”

  I didn’t reply and turned to watch Namra sit in front of the bucket. There was a blue glow on her fingertips. I found myself transfixed. I had only been around so many mages, and they each had different techniques. Yuebek’s magic was like a charging bull, while Eikaro was a little child playing with blocks. Wily Belfang treated it like a game of cards, something he had to win. But the fundamentals, from what I could gather, were the same. It was like working with thread—if the strands were attached to your fingers. Those blind to the agan only see the glow; those with the gift, on the other hand, can see more. And if they’re skilled enough, they can coax out those strands and form connections to mask, or create, or destroy.

  I didn’t know what she was doing this time. Her hands were hovering over the water, and I got the sense that she was using it to amplify the connection. I felt a touch of something in the air, a little like the prickling of the hair on your skin before a lightning storm. My senses began to blur.

  And then I noticed I was staring at a hole in the middle of a hut. It gave me the impression of staring down at the bottom of a well. I thought I could even smell the damp scent of water coming through it.

  “I’m not so sure about this, Namra,” I said. “I can’t. I need the sword—”

  The hole grew bigger and I heard a bang, deep inside my head.

  “Tali!” Namra cried, just as the blue-touched blackness overtook me.

  I was running through the shadows, weaving through the ghostly blue radiance. Someone was screaming at me to keep my feet moving. Don’t stop, don’t turn around. I forced down the whimper building up inside my throat. My breath felt like a knife inside my chest.

  I skidded around a sharp corner, my legs buckling underneath. Against all warning, I looked up.

  A sword was bearing down on me. I caught a glimpse of the handle, the open-mouthed serpent. I screamed. The sword slipped past me and struck the head clean off a man nearby. I blinked and found myself in a battlefield, amidst soldiers hacking at each other. The smell of blood and urine filled the air. “Don’t let the Butcher through!” someone cried. “Kill him! Kill the bastard! Free Jin-Sayeng!”

  A horn sounded. I turned and saw Yeshin on his horse in the distance. I felt my mouth go dry and the knife wrenched through my throat—I didn’t think it was possible to feel both fear and longing at the same time. “Father—” I started.

  Someone grabbed my wrist, tearing me away from the street. “You shouldn’t be here!” a woman all but screamed at my face. “Didn’t you hear them? Run! We have to run!”

  “My father’s there!” I cried. “I can’t leave him!”

  “He’ll be dead soon, child! Mourn him when this is over!”

  I wanted to argue that he wasn’t dead. What could kill a man so powerful? I heard the sound of panicked neighs and looked up in time to see Yeshin fall from his horse in the distance, a spear through his shoulder. Blood foamed around his mouth and dripped down his white beard.

  I screamed. Yeshin got up and broke the base of the spear from his body. A man came running for the kill, and he turned around, still skewered, and all but crushed the attacker’s jaw with his sword. “Ozo!” he snarled. “Where the hell are you?”

  A hand covered my eyes, and I felt myself being lifted over somebody’s shoulder. I struggled before turning around to bite it. There was a cry of pain; I bit harder, hard enough to draw blood before I spun around to look into my captor’s eyes.

  It was the woman from the throne room.

  “This is all I need you to know,” Yeshin once said when I was still so small he could hold me in his arms while we sat underneath a single woolen blanket, staring at the stars. “You and I, we are enough.”

  He loved such talk—just out of nowhere, as if picking up from a conversation that I hadn’t witnessed. I remembered pulling the blanket closer. “We don’t need them, Tali,” he would say, holding me in an embrace so fierce I couldn’t tell which was his heartbeat and which was mine. “You don’t need them. Why would you? They never cared. That’s how some people are. They’ll flatter you and fawn
over you for as long as they have to, and once they’ve gotten what they can, they’ll discard you like a useless husk. These people have no concept of loyalty, or integrity, or honour! They think loyalty doesn’t pay, that honour can’t put food in their bellies. And integrity? The price of one’s self pales in comparison with shiny baubles.” His eyes turned to me—deep brown, almost black, the depth a stark contrast with the glow of the stars around us. “You are…”

  Enough, I repeated to myself as the memory receded. I opened my eyes to a flood of sunlight. Namra was bent over my body, a look of concern on her normally placid face. “My queen,” she said. “How do you feel?”

  “Like I’ve fallen off a dragon,” I grumbled, “and landed on my head.” I turned to her, my eyes focusing. “And that nearly happened once already.”

  “My apologies. I don’t know what went wrong. I wasn’t even finished casting the spell.”

  I swallowed my own spit. I could taste blood, and wondered if it was mine or if I was still imagining it from the dream. The woman had looked so frightened…

  “How far did it take us?” I asked.

  “Far enough,” she said.

  I glanced behind me. “Anya?”

  “I have no way of knowing.” She cleared her throat, as if she knew what I was thinking. “With all due respect, Beloved Queen, your father’s sword is of little importance right now.”

  I sighed. “Just tell me if my head is facing the right way.”

  “It… appears so.”

  I groaned as I got up. The blood was coming from my own nostrils. I wiped it off before turning to Namra. Her expression held more than concern. She looked like she had seen me die.

  “What happened?”

  “I made the spell. I’m sure I did it correctly. At worst we would’ve ended in a completely different spot than I wanted to, or perhaps… we might’ve gotten stuck in the fabric. But we merely crested over the surface of it, and—”

  “Say things I can understand.”

  “You reacted,” Namra said. “Something threatened not just to undo my spell, but to try to drag us with it. I stopped it long enough to lead you through the tunnel, and it stopped as soon as I closed the tear behind us. But then you wouldn’t wake up.”