“The bastard will definitely survive that sky, then,” I said. Even saying it made me want to stomp off. “But would he know how to close the rift, once he gets there?”
Namra placed a scroll on the table. I stared at the confusing mass of runes and symbols. “It’s the design for the spell,” she said. “It’s the same spell the Dageian mages tried to use on the rift in the beginning. Your father paid for my education because he wanted me to help you. I’m modifying the spell for a rift that size. Yuebek doesn’t have to do a thing but fly up there.”
“It will close by itself, as long as he takes the spell to the sky?”
She grimaced. “It needs power. The spell will draw from him first.”
“Will that kill him?”
Her face darkened. “I know it will kill most mages, but Yuebek?”
“We’ll kill him anyway,” Ozo broke in. “It doesn’t matter.”
“I’m not sure that will work,” Namra said.
I could hear the fear in her voice. I don’t know if he can die. But surely no one could be immortal? No one could be that powerful. “I was still really hoping someone else could do it.” I sighed. “Not that it matters, I guess. Our last attempt injured our only dragon, and you can’t turn into one. Come on, blurt it out, Ozo. You’re agan -touched, too, aren’t you?”
“You wish,” Ozo snorted.
“There were other things in the study,” Namra said. “Your father mapped out everything his mages and builders did. It’s quite impressive. Once the spell draws power from the holder, it will use it to create separate connections to the agan stream, which will close the hole. I’m not sure if I can explain it very well to you…”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I think I know. Eikaro did something on a smaller scale. Like stitching a wound.”
“You—you have that right.” She looked a little relieved that I understood that much. “That’s just the beginning, too. Once the rift is closed, it will create more surges of agan that cannot just be allowed to spark freely through the air—that will only create more holes. The new dragon-towers are designed to capture the energy and spread it through the land slowly, straight through the old dragon-towers. They’re all connected.”
“This won’t hurt the people in the city?” I asked.
“For a few days, you might see furnaces in the older buildings—the ones still connected to the dragon-tower infrastructure—light up. Jin-Sayeng used to run on this power, Beloved Queen—I don’t believe we have anything to worry about there. However…”
“There’s always a catch,” I said, frowning.
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “The problem is that Prince Yuebek is a trained, educated mage. Explain all of this to him, and he will see that closing the rift may kill him. He’ll know it’s a trap. You cannot just tell him to do it—he will know we’re trying to get rid of him, and the gods know how the man will react to such an affront. He needs to come to this conclusion himself. He needs to see how closing it will be beneficial for him.”
Ozo tapped the table with a closed fist. “Which is why Warlord Yeshin wanted someone who not only had the skill to do it, but could be convinced of the plausibility of earning the people’s support as Dragonlord because he has the proper royal bloodline.” He balled up his other fist. “The classic two truths to a single story.”
“Does Yuebek know his mother is Jinsein?”
“We were hoping you could tell him that. You need to convince him to put his head on the chopping block.”
I laughed. “And I’m supposed to have the charm and wit to do this. I’m supposed to make Yuebek bend to my feminine wiles.”
“I can hardly blame your father for making that mistake,” Ozo huffed. “Your brothers had all that charm and wit, and so did your grandmother and your mother. If he saw you as you are now, he’d be horrified.”
“Thank the gods for that.”
“You should curse them for it,” Ozo said. He gave a dismissive wave in Namra’s direction. “The priestess’s fears aside, we need Yuebek dead, regardless. And ideally it would be after you have every right to what he owns so his army doesn’t turn on us while they’re on our soil.”
“So many ifs, Ozo,” I replied. “And you didn’t even bring me enough wine, damn you.”
“Think about what you get in return if it all works out,” Ozo said. “Think about wiping that smug grin off Ryia’s face when she realizes the people are celebrating in your name.” He heaved his barrel chest. “Yuebek is waiting for you in Oka Shto. We’ve told him you simply needed time to think it over—the past few months have been overwhelming for someone in your position, but you’re close to making a decision. As a show of understanding and goodwill, Prince Yuebek has chosen to stay his hand.”
“How generous of him,” I said in a low voice. “What would he have done otherwise? Taken the whole nation by force? He doesn’t have the numbers.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ozo bristled. “Your husband—”
I felt dread run through me. “What has he done to Rayyel?” I asked.
Ozo got up. “Come home, and see,” he said.
Pretend you owned a dollhouse. A wonderful piece of craftsmanship with doors that open and close, windows with real stained glass, walls stained and oiled to a polished sheen. The furniture is exquisite, life-like, every corner carved lovingly by a master toymaker. And your father gave you this dollhouse before he died, and you were convinced that despite everything, despite that last, turgid letter he left you, you could turn it upside down and another letter would come flying out, one that contained just a few words. Three or four, it didn’t matter—words that weren’t just instructions, that were enough to somehow make it all right again even if a part of you knew it was too late for that. Words enough to soothe the pain.
Imagine walking into your room to find that dollhouse burning in the fireplace.
That was exactly what I felt when I returned to my castle and saw the Zarojo had taken over. For every one Oren-yaro guard, I counted five of Yuebek’s. The Oren-yaro banners were gone, replaced by Yuebek’s own standard: a white dragon set against a dark-blue sea, swallowing the yellow moon. It took me aback. The whole motif was new, something he must have had designed recently. But more than that—the moon-swallowing dragon was a Jin-Sayeng legend. It was a statement. He was making an impression in the worst way possible—by taking what was ours and claiming it for himself.
I turned away from it to gaze at the other affront. The trees in the courtyard, the tall, stately maples, had been cut. The rounded stumps were still in the ground, a reminder of what used to be there. “They wanted room for the soldiers,” Ozo explained when he saw the horror in my eyes. “They said the barracks are too far away.”
“We never had room up here in the first place,” I said.
“What would you have me do?” Ozo shot back. “Yuebek doesn’t trust us. He wants his army close. I believe the man doesn’t even sleep, not since he’s stepped foot inside the castle.” He dropped his voice. “It’s up to you, now. Ease his mind. Let the prince believe the story we’ve fed him. Seal the deal, Queen Talyien.”
“Gods,” I breathed. “I hate you all. Maybe you the most.”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. “Don’t you think I hate myself, too? For doing this to you? For what I did to my own son?”
“Please. You’re a sadistic bastard.”
He shrugged. “I never said I wasn’t.”
“I’ve heard of the things you did during my father’s war. People feared and hated him, but you? You repulsed them. Hessa loathed you. I’ve always wondered why—I shudder to think what you did to her to put Agos in her belly.”
“Believe what you want, my queen.”
“Hell, I’m still convinced the only reason you never really seized power when you could was because you couldn’t be bothered. They respect you, but not half as well as they respected my father. You’d have your hands full with rebellions you wouldn’t know how to
crush.”
“Save that tiresome prattle for your new prince,” Ozo said through gritted teeth. “He’s all you have to worry about.” We reached the front doors, where two of Yuebek’s guards stood, halberds crossed.
“The queen has returned,” Ozo announced. “Your prince is expecting her.”
They remained unmoving, hard eyes scrutinizing me.
“Step aside,” I ordered.
The guards didn’t even look like they heard me.
I heard Ozo suck in his breath.
My hand dropped to my sword. “If you don’t step aside—” I began.
“Beloved Queen!” a familiar voice called out from the end of the courtyard.
I turned to the newcomer. “Lo Bahn,” I greeted. “What games are you playing now?”
“No games, Queen Talyien,” Lo Bahn exclaimed. He gave a sweeping bow. “No games at all. But maybe we should be asking the same question of you.”
“What the hell do you mean?”
“You played a rotten trick on me back in Bara,” Lo Bahn replied, smirking. “Not the first either, if I recall correctly. You’ll have to forgive us for casting doubt on your intentions now.”
“I played a trick on you?” I asked. “Weren’t you conspiring with Warlord Lushai?”
He looked away. “I don’t know what the hell you mean.”
“Ah hah!” I exclaimed. “Can’t even keep your own interests under a lid, can you? I’ll let you get away with it. It’s nothing to me. Lord General Ozo must’ve told you. The last few months—”
“Were an affront to your poor, delicate sensibilities? Were you experiencing fainting spells the whole winter through? You poor, weak woman, having to deal with such brutes when you were promised gentlemen.” He snorted. “We know you better than that, Queen Talyien.”
I smiled in return. “Is that what you told Prince Yuebek?”
Lo Bahn gave a dismissive gesture. “Believe it or not, my opinions are meaningless as rat turds to His Esteemed Highness. I did try to warn him—suggested that we should all just go home, that it’s pointless trying to wrest your kingdom away from you. But he would have none of it. He suggested, in return, that maybe I’d be better served as a headless figure in Shang Azi, and my cock and balls bronzed and donated to the whorehouses for pleasuring their more particular clientele.” He gave a crude laugh, and only then did I notice that he couldn’t really stand straight. He was limping on one leg.
“He had you punished for my escape,” I said.
“I’m no stranger to torture,” Lo Bahn reminded me, showing me his nail-less fingers. Injuries he had incurred back in Shang Azi, courtesy of Governor Qun while under the pretence of looking for me. I’ve never laid a hand on him, but he would forever carry the mark of my name on his body. “But you can’t say I didn’t try, Queen Talyien.”
“Why do you try at all? You’re risking your life here.”
“I was a dead man the moment I met you. I’m not sure which I would rather face—his wrath, or yours.” He nodded towards the castle. “He knows you’re here. We’ve known you were here the moment you landed on the river this morning. A trip from the south, I wagered. From the Sougen?”
I took a deep breath. There was no point in lying. “Yes. I went to see my son, Lord Han.”
“Ah,” he replied. “I figured. This Kaggawa has him?”
“He’s a prisoner there. I managed to sneak into his camp to see him, but…” I swallowed, trying to keep my voice light, trying to channel that charm and wit I’m supposed to have. “Prince Yuebek is the only way I can save my son. Kaggawa wants him to marry his daughter so he can take over Jin-Sayeng. A commoner…”
“What’s wrong with commoners?”
I frowned. “There is nothing wrong with commoners, but it is absurd to use my son as a prop for political power. I can’t have it. Prince Yuebek, at least, will understand my position better.”
Lo Bahn looked at me, squinting. Thinking. I’d fooled him once before, and he must have sworn to himself he would never allow it again. I suddenly understood exactly why Yuebek wanted him under his employ, for all that he was not the sort of man the nobility would be caught dead with. Lo Bahn knew too much. He knew me. He knew the people I cared for. That was his one task—to see through me and warn Yuebek of impending treachery. Perhaps Lo Bahn himself was convinced it was all for my own good, too.
Turn the gem, Talyien. Turn it. Your enemies are your friends. Your friends are your enemies. Nothing is constant, nothing is safe. Suddenly this whole ruse was harder than it should’ve been. I had done this, too; made it more complicated than my father ever intended. If I’d submitted from the very beginning, Yuebek wouldn’t have been on guard. But the plan needed me to yield only in some ways and remain clad in iron in others. Only Yeshin the Butcher would have dared.
“Qun mentioned your unnatural fondness for your whelp,” Lo Bahn conceded. “I’ve heard it’s chaos down there.”
“Kaggawa is seizing power,” I said. “He’s laid siege to Yu-yan. My son is in his war camp. I need the west stabilized if I can hope to rally support from the others. You don’t know how it works out here, Lord Han. This isn’t Shang Azi. This is a nation of warlords who will hole up in their castles and let the rest burn to the ground if it saves them the trouble.”
“I know that much, woman,” Lo Bahn snorted. He stepped to one side, leaning heavily on his good leg. Veins on his neck strained from the effort. “He wants me to show you something first.”
I felt a bead of sweat on my forehead. I didn’t even have the courage to wipe it off.
“You could’ve stopped this if you’d been there,” Lo Bahn continued. “Remember that, before you blame me.” With a sweep of his hand, he led me down to the sloping path that came around the courtyard. There were no dungeons in Oka Shto. The barracks were at the base of the mountain, closer to the city and a more convenient spot for prisoners. Lo Bahn led me to the kennels.
I couldn’t hear anything as we approached the path leading to the building. Normally, the dogs would’ve created a ruckus by now. My hands grew cold, the chill climbing up my spine. “Lo Bahn,” I said, gritting my teeth. “What did Yuebek do to my dogs?”
Lo Bahn pressed his arms to his side. “You don’t see them?” he asked, turning his head to the bare trees that fringed the mountainside, past the ledge. It was spring—the leaves should’ve grown back by now. My gut turned.
My dogs were dead, bound to the tree branches. I didn’t want to count to see if he got them all, didn’t stop to look at their faces, didn’t stop to go over the details of what was done to them. Bile stirred in my throat and I turned all my attention to forcing it down, to burning away the image in my memory.
“The gods help you if you did this, Lo Bahn,” I said in a low voice.
He glanced at my hand, which was toying with the handle of my sword. He gave a quick smile. “You’d kill me if I said yes, I suppose.”
“I will gut you like a fucking pig and decorate those trees with your innards.”
“I told you I have no power against that man,” Lo Bahn said. He craned his head away from me, as if the venom in my threats had unsettled him. “As it stands, I didn’t have to do a damn thing. Me, as I am? He did it all himself. Didn’t even want the soldiers to help.”
“He must be covered in bites.”
Lo Bahn laughed. “There’s some truth in that.” He nodded towards the kennel. “He left you one dog.”
“Of course he did,” I said under my breath.
He unlocked the kennel door, and we entered. The smell of the unwashed floor, of urine and liquid dog feces, stung my nostrils. I held my breath as I turned to the lone figure at the end of the row. My husband sat there, hands on his knees, his bedraggled hair covering half his face. It was wet. There was a bucket above him, one that leaked water a drop at a time. Rayyel was collared and chained in such a way that he couldn’t avoid it even if he wanted to.
“You kill my dogs and torture my h
usband…” I started.
“What did you expect, Queen Talyien? Tea and egg pie while they wait for you to come to your senses? Bah! Even you should know better.”
I stepped around the cage. Rayyel hadn’t moved to acknowledge our arrival, though I knew he was awake. I could hear his rhythmic breathing, could see his fingers clasping his sullied robes.
“Rai,” I whispered. “I’m here now, Rai.”
He didn’t respond.
I glanced at the dripping water. How long had they been doing this to him? Each drop was supposed to land on the same spot on his head—what seemed like a mere annoyance at the first glance would be unbearable after a few hours. It was one of my father’s favourite tortures. Forcing the anger at bay, I ripped out a piece of my sleeve and reached into the cage.
“You shouldn’t do that,” Lo Bahn warned me.
“Fuck off,” I said, draping the cloth over Rayyel’s head. It absorbed the drop of water. “Rai,” I repeated, pressing my hand over his face. His skin was clammy, cold.
I heard him draw a quick breath. His eyes finally opened, his long eyelashes caked with dirt and grime. He didn’t speak.
Lo Bahn clicked his tongue. “I’ve seen men rendered senseless in an hour with that. He’s been here for weeks. They fill that bucket at least twice a day.”
“They chose the worst method to break an Ikessar with,” I said in a low voice. I glanced at Lo Bahn. “I wouldn’t mention that to Yuebek if you know what’s good for you.”
Lo Bahn snorted. “Like I’d risk telling him he was wrong about something. He’s in a mood, in case it isn’t obvious. Your disappearance last winter gave him more trouble than he could chew.”
“What do you mean?”
He nodded towards Rai. “That one’s mother. She and Yuebek nearly killed each other.”
“That would’ve saved us some trouble,” I grumbled.
“It’s why he’s here in the first place,” Lo Bahn said. “His mother spat on the prince before humiliating him in front of the council. Didn’t know you royals could be as vile as the meanest bitch in Shang Azi. He seized Prince Rayyel in response and rode out here. She didn’t have the soldiers to oppose him, but she swore she would return.”
The Dragon of Jin-Sayeng Page 50
