Khine rubbed his shoulder, as if the very act of reminding him about those events made it hurt.
“I have to apologize about that,” Eikaro continued. He glanced at me. “I wasn’t myself. They starved and beat me before they threw me in there. I almost didn’t recognize the queen, either.”
“Kyo-orashi is a long way from here. What were you doing out there in the first place?”
“I wanted to keep an eye on you, and the only way to do that was to scour the roads. Warlord San’s scouts were looking for dragons, and I wasn’t careful.” He was still staring at the sky. “And now I’m worried about them.”
“I’d love to see what’s happening out there, but as we are, we can only wait and see,” I said. “Let’s go back to the city.”
He sighed. “If I can remember how to walk.”
I held out my arm for him. A moment, and then he took it, leaning against me as we made our way down the path. We didn’t look back, nor did we talk about his father’s death. Some things were better left unsaid.
“You’re going to have to pretend you’re your brother,” I said as soon as we saw the tower looming before us, the mountains receding as the silhouette of Yu-yan grew closer. “Your father tried to tame a dragon and was thrown to his death. That’s all we need them to know.”
There were soldiers waiting for us up ahead. Eikaro straightened himself as best as he could, and I suppose to the untrained eye he could pass for Huan well enough. “Warlord Ojika is dead,” he said, striding forward. “The others are with his body up at the ridge. Send men to fetch it before the dragons come.”
The soldiers didn’t even question it. They saluted, heads bowed. “Yes, Warlord,” they all said. They scattered immediately.
Eikaro wiped his forehead. “This may sound strange, but I’ve never done this before,” he whispered nervously. “You’d think we would’ve played that old trick on people at least once in our lives. But to take Huan’s place, even for a prank, seemed like sacrilege. And now…” He glanced at the sky.
We returned to the castle through the most discreet path possible. A woman, several months’ heavy with child, came running to us.
“Huan!” Grana exclaimed. “I heard what happened with Father. Are you—”
“I’m sorry.” Eikaro drew away from her offered kiss with discomfort. “I can’t lie to her. My queen…?”
Grana turned sharply, noticing me for the first time. “Beloved Queen? But why—”
“Not out here, please,” Eikaro continued.
She dropped his hands, recognition flitting over her face. Anyone who knew them both well would know the difference immediately. But her lips wouldn’t acknowledge what she knew stood right in front of her.
“It’s me,” Eikaro said. “My brother and I—we switched.”
She remained silent.
“I wasn’t dead,” he stammered. “I’ve been inside a dragon the last few months. I—”
I held a hand out, gesturing at all of them to keep quiet.
We walked to a chamber, one I figured must’ve been Warlord Ojika’s personal meeting room. I saw Eikaro’s eyes wander over to his father’s things—to the ceremonial armour, strapped to a dummy in the far corner. He looked ill.
Grana’s face had turned sheet white. “Where is he, Eikaro?” she finally asked. “What did you do to my husband?”
“Huan is safe,” Eikaro replied. “We’ve switched, and we can always switch again. He’s flying north right now, but he’ll be back soon.” He rubbed his nose. “May I see my wife, please?”
She looked like she wanted to argue. But after a moment, she gave a soft sigh and stepped through the door.
We didn’t speak while waiting for her. Eikaro rubbed his arms repeatedly, as if he was cold, and he kept glancing around the room with the unease of a caged animal. He wandered back to his father’s armour, his lower jaw quivering.
“I didn’t want to reject him.” He glanced at me. “But the dragon’s rage felt like my own. No—it was my own. The things that used to restrain me, his command, his words… I was a dragon! What need did I have for them anymore? And he barged in like… like I was nothing. Like he still owned me, the way he acted when I was still a child. My brother’s spare, his shield, whatever my father decided I was. Now he wanted me to be his dragon, his pet. He didn’t even recognize me. He screamed at me to step aside. I called for him. Father, I said. And he laughed.” He flared his nostrils, as if trying to blow away a puff of smoke that wasn’t there.
Grana returned, her twin sister, Tori, right behind her. There was an infant in her arms. “You’re lying,” she told her sister, her eyes on Eikaro. “He’s wearing Huan’s robes. Grana, what a rotten trick to play. I shouldn’t have come—”
Eikaro rushed forward to hold both her and the infant, tears rolling down his face. Tori’s own lip quivered. He whispered something in her ear, and then suddenly she, too, started sobbing. He pulled her and the infant into his arms, and I had the distinct impression that even if you tried to break them apart, you wouldn’t be able to. A wave of wistfulness overtook me. It was like looking into a mirror that showed you what you most truly desired: a snapshot of something that could never be. I turned away quickly before the unease could show on my face.
Someone knocked. I went to open the door and came face-to-face with my cousin Nor.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
THE SIEGE
My first-ever meeting with Nor happened during the uproar over my husband’s disappearance six years ago.
I had been pacing in the great hall, arguing with Arro about how I was handling the entire situation. He was telling me to calm down—that I needed to show the nation my strength, which included remaining coherent enough not to start threatening every single royal who seemed like they supported Rayyel’s behaviour. I must’ve told him the most convenient places to stuff his advice in.
And then Ozo arrived, bearing news of my new Captain of the Guard. “Nor aron dar Orenar,” he introduced, right before I could begin shouting at Arro again. I managed to hold my tongue and turned to face the tall, straight woman standing like a pillar behind him.
“Excellent,” I drawled. “Now they’ll really think I have something to hide.”
“That ship sailed the moment you sent Agos away without so much as a word of warning to me,” Ozo replied. His voice was the same way a river looked at the widest part—calm and measured at first glance, but narrow it down and watch as the current turns to raging fury. I knew I needed to tread carefully.
But I was young, and all General Ozo had ever seemed to me in those days was an old man trying to grasp at the last threads of the power he shared with my father. Had I thought to win the influence of the region’s bannermen for myself in those days, he might’ve had a harder time masterminding the events that would bring me face-to-face with Prince Yuebek. Of course, my personal problems took precedence. “I was trying to protect Agos,” I said.
Ozo’s eyes flashed. “From what?”
“From scandal.”
“Sending him away proved whatever scandal you’re referring to. If he had stayed, we could’ve smoothed it over.”
“And if he had stayed perhaps he’d be dead by now. You know how the Ikessars work!”
“Not in all the years I’ve been alive has an Ikessar assassin been able to make its way to the palace,” Ozo said. “For them to risk political upheaval to take care of a mere guardsman…”
Looking back at it now, it must’ve rankled Ozo to call his son that, and nothing more. His greatest sacrifice, he’d said.
“It’s done,” I had said, lifting a hand to silence him. “I’ve made a decision.”
“Look at you,” Ozo said. “They crown you queen and suddenly…”
I got up from my throne, my hand dropping to the hilt of my sword. Whether he thought of me as a spoiled child or a true threat, the movement made him turn away. “Captain Nor,” he said, changing the conversation as quickly as if we’d just been
discussing the weather, “is a second cousin of yours. Her mother’s sister rules one of the holdings in the foothills.”
“We welcome you to our humble abode, Captain Nor,” Arro said with a bow. “I’ve heard much of your work with the city guard. I am pleased to know the queen will be in safe hands.”
She stepped forward to take my hand, pressing it against her forehead. I had her pegged as someone who never missed a day of training. She didn’t say anything then, didn’t greet me, didn’t offer any pleasantries. A rock cut from the earth itself.
Now, years later, she remained just as silent.
“General Nor,” Grana said.
“General,” I repeated. “You’ve moved up.”
“The previous general met an untimely… end… during that first attack on Kaggawa’s estate,” Grana replied with a smile. “General Nor proved herself quite valiantly in the battle, and she told us you no longer needed her services, so… here we are.”
I gazed at my cousin with a smile. Here we were, indeed. I knew it wasn’t her fault, but a part of me wanted to blame her for what had happened since. Would Nor have been able to detect Kaggawa’s men trailing us, or smell Agos’s treachery from a mile away? If she had, would he still be alive?
It was the kind of conjecture that could ruin a person just because of how easy it is to lay it all on a straw man. She was my sworn guard—most would’ve expected her to die for me. I certainly did. And yet Agos made just as much of a mistake, choosing his own interests over mine. Power may make us think otherwise, but we don’t hold people’s minds and we don’t hold their hearts. An irony that must’ve kept my father awake all those years—that we would be given these responsibilities and expectations, bestowed the blessings of the gods in front of thousands, and yet faced with a thing as simple as human desire we act like children screaming at broken toys. Move, we tell them. Move. Can’t you see? It’s all for your own good. I’m…
No better, I know. Especially not after the last few days. As I stood there, wondering what else I would say to her, she walked straight across the room to salute Eikaro. “My lord,” she said. “Kaggawa’s men are at the gates. The siege has begun.”
Nor led us to the battlements, to the top of the southwestern defense tower. I held my breath. There were so many soldiers camped in the distance that the sea of green that the Sougen was known for had become a sea of black, and the red and yellow of Kaggawa’s flag. Off in the distance, I spotted logs piled high next to flat wooden pads.
“Bases for trebuchets,” Khine commented, noticing my gaze.
“How long can you hold?” I asked Nor.
She stared down, unblinking. “Hard to say,” she finally admitted. “We’ve got a few weeks’ worth of supplies left. With the gods’ blessings, it won’t have to come to that. Warlord Huan had tasked me with gathering forces for a counter-assault. All we need is to brace ourselves for the first wave. Later tonight, we’ll meet them at their own camp and cripple them any way we can.”
“Do you have the numbers for an attack like that?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“Father was… counting on the dragon to turn the tide,” Grana broke in. “That’s what he told me.”
I noted the lie immediately. Warlord Ojika would have kept the truth from her.
Nor shook her head. “With all due respect, Lady Grana, I told Warlord Ojika it was lunacy. His untimely death proves just that. We know nothing about these creatures, not anymore.”
I stared at the army down below, remembering my father’s letter. He had asked Warlord Ojika to draw the war out in order to increase Kaggawa’s confidence, because he needed it to be a big enough threat to give Yuebek an excuse to travel here with his army and quell it. It had worked so far, perhaps too well. Kaggawa had used up all his resources to transport his mercenaries to the plains, and now I couldn’t imagine a way to get rid of them. Was there merit to Warlord Ojika’s lie? I imagined he could burn a path to break apart Kaggawa’s soldiers, where the Yu-yan defenders could pick them off from the wall, but that would leave him open for their arrows, too. I didn’t know how many arrows a dragon could hold against, but I could imagine enough would kill one. And that sort of brazen display wouldn’t do anything. Make a dent on this army, and they would still come. Kaggawa still had my boy. Only stabilizing the region would make him see reason. Only closing the rift could get him to stop. I glanced at the sky, hoping Huan’s task was as simple as it seemed. If it was just like closing a door, maybe.
I kept my thoughts at bay as Nor continued to take us through the city defenses. She was in her element—screaming at the soldiers and the city guards, directing them to where they needed to be. It made me wonder why the Oren-yaro decided she would spend the last five years as my guard captain. Did the Oren-yaro find me so unstable they would waste a woman of her talents on me? “Is it wise to attack now?” I asked again. “Most people would wait until the enemy is worn out from hunger.”
“Warlord Huan is convinced their confidence can be shattered easily. They’re mercenaries; if they know we won’t go down easily, it will affect their morale. Isn’t that so, my lord?” She glanced at Eikaro, who glanced down.
Suspicion flitted over her features. “Warlord Huan,” she repeated.
“I…”
She turned back to me. “Something’s wrong,” she finally said. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing,” I said.
She glanced at the soldiers around us before crossing her arms. “Tali,” she finally said. “I’ve known you long enough to know what nothing means, coming from you. Be straight with me.”
Before I could answer, we heard a roar from the sky. The dragon’s dark shadow blocked the sun as he glided into the city.
“Blessed Akaterru,” Nor muttered under her breath. “Get the archers here, now! That beast is going to burn us all!”
“Stand down, General,” I said. “You were looking for Warlord Huan, and he’s returned.”
“The queen is right,” Eikaro said. “My father’s death was not in vain. We have a dragon on our side.”
Black smoke blew like tendrils in the distance.
“I don’t think we do,” Nor said, just as the first screams sounded from the western district.
We dashed down into the city, through the chaos of soldiers attempting to shoot the dragon down. Even before I reached the street, I knew something was wrong; Huan wasn’t attacking the city. He was flying in circles, as if struggling with something himself. An archer from the battlements made it up to the roof below and sent an arrow flying towards his head.
The arrow grazed the side of his muzzle. Huan threw his horns back before he came crashing right into the tower. “Direh fell,” Huan called into my thoughts. “You can’t send a person up there. This one—”
A creature leaped off his back, a gnarled, twisted beast that wore Zuha’s robes. Its fingers had turned into claws. It sniffed the air before it made a running leap.
Nor lifted her sword before it could get close and swung with the surety of someone who had done this sort of thing since birth. The full weight of her sword struck the mage’s shoulder—blood sprayed as the blade sank in, tearing out a hunk of flesh to reveal the bone underneath. The injury didn’t seem to faze it. It dropped to the ground like an animal, the arm uselessly hanging beside its rib cage, before it made another mad dash, jaws snapping, aiming for her legs. There was no room for her sword to swing at that angle, but she kicked its snout as it came close with such force it threw its head back. In that instant, she readied her blade and cleaved its head from its body. The head rolled a few feet away, jaws snapping as it left a black trail along the ground. The headless body toppled on its side, leaking more black fluid. It smelled vile, like a corpse that had been left too long to percolate in its own juices.
I darted for Huan, who was struggling to stand. Blood dripped from the wound on his chest. “What happened?” I asked.
“We couldn’t get close,” Hua
n said. “The agan is too strong out there, and the mages’ shield failed. Something struck us. I crashed against a cliff and Direh fell to her death. Zuha held on, but by the time we reached the edge of the mountains he wasn’t talking anymore. He turned into that thing. I flew back this way hoping I could get rid of him on the plains, but he was too much.”
“They said even the Dageian mages weren’t immune to the corrupted souls,” Eikaro said. “The rift must be making it difficult to keep up defenses.”
“We’re running out of mages,” I said. “Do you have others up your sleeve, my lord?”
Almost as if it heard me, there came a gurgling sound from Zuha’s headless body, which had bloated to twice its size. “Step back!” Huan roared, lunging, his bent body contorting so he could cover us with his wings. The body burst, like a tick squeezed too hard. Spiders crawled from the black sludge left behind.
The air started flashing, as if lightning continued to strike. The world began to spin; I heard screaming from every direction, punctuated by Huan’s roars as he tore into an unknown enemy I couldn’t see. I fell to my knees as the chaos mounted, blood on my hands. The iron scent crawled up my nostrils, making it hard to breathe. I reached for my sword, the damn grass-cutter, and struggled to draw it.
Well, Talyien? My own thoughts held my father’s voice. Even now, after everything, I couldn’t get rid of them. What do you do now? How can you be queen if all you’re good for is chasing your own tail?
I drew the sword just as a beast appeared through the flashes. It was in soldier’s armour, which told me this wasn’t someone who’d made the trade willingly. Somehow, Zuha’s body had brought with it a taint, something making it possible for the corrupted souls to invade people without their permission. It was a dizzying thought. Who was turning, then? Who was the enemy?
I slew the soldier, intricately aware that the only answer to my question was ourselves. We were killing ourselves to survive. I kept my back to Huan, who was still snapping. “Where’s Eikaro?” I called.
The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 47
