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A Future, Forged

Page 4

by Aiki Flinthart


  ‘You’re wrong, you know. There are good people, too.’

  ‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

  Ying’s eyes fell. ‘He didn’t say. He does want your help, though. But he’d never force you to help. Ever.’ Her hands clenched. ‘And if he did, I’d stop him, myself!’

  Against her will, Teya laughed at the image of the plump thirteen-year-old standing up to a skilled warrior like Dallan. But it was impossible not to admire her. The knot in Teya’s stomach eased.

  ‘Fine.’ She took the cloak the xintou offered and awkwardly clasped it around her neck. ‘I’ll come back if I can’t get Perrin out. Happy?’

  ‘I guess. But you’ll be careful? I’ll wait by the servants’ entrance and let you in.’

  Sighing, Teya nodded. It was like having a mother all over again. But all the worst bits. The nagging and the guilt.

  Together, the girls snuck along the darkened hallway of the Qin-Turner townhouse. Ying took the lead and tiptoed through a maze of interconnected rooms and hallways until Teya’s head spun. Why would one woman even need a house this big? Fifty people could live here and hardly see each other. She barely resisted the urge to steal a silver cup someone had left sitting on a sideboard.

  Ying laid a finger over her lips as they crept past a door edged by golden light. Voices murmured within. Teya waited, expecting an outcry. But only the sound of muffled, raised voices reached her. Sounded like Dallan and Neri. But the words were indistinct. Were they arguing about her? What did they want from her?

  One thing was certain, if she got Perrin, she was not returning, promise or no promise. She buried that thought deep, in case Ying was listening.

  On her way through the dark kitchen, Teya managed to collect a blackwood-handled ceramic kitchen knife. The scrape caused Ying to look around, but Teya stared, defiantly. Ying sighed and said nothing.

  Outside the house, Ying peered around the cold, dark-shadowed courtyard.

  She pointed and whispered, ‘If you go through that little gate, the main street is a couple of blocks away. Go southeast until you get to the city wall—’

  ‘I know where the east gate is,’ Teya said. ‘I know the city better than you do, xintou.’ She ignored Ying’s hurt little pout and strode for the gate. At the last minute, she looked back. Ying waited in the courtyard, a ghostly figure, drenched in moon-blood and shadows.

  ‘Thanks,’ Teya said, and slipped through the gate.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  DALLAN

  ‘You did what?’ Dallan scrubbed at his face. ‘Why? Why did you let her go?’

  Ying Li stood before him in the library, chewing on a lock of hair. ‘I had to. She said she’d tie and gag me! And he’s her little brother.’

  ‘You’re a xintou, Ying. She has no wards, I assume?’ Dallan waited for her headshake. ‘You could have inserted the compulsion to stay.’

  ‘I couldn’t. How can you even suggest that? It’s…it’s…wrong.’ She folded her arms and scowled at him.

  Dallan grimaced. He’d forgotten how black and white children’s thinking was. It had been so long since he’d seen his son. Months. Would Galric understand why his father was gone? What if he never made it home? Would the boy forgive him? He touched the Johnston family steel sword and dagger at his hip. He had to make it home to pass those on, if nothing else.

  He shook his mind free of the pointless thoughts and considered the naïve xintou girl.

  ‘You go to bed.’ He rose. ‘I’ll go after her.’

  ‘But I—’

  He glared. ‘Go.’

  She huffed, but stalked from the room without speaking. Dallan hauled on his spice-otter-fur jacket, for the night was chill with autumn’s bite. Stupid girl! Barefoot and wearing a shirt and a cloak. She was mad. Brave, but mad.

  Why was she so desperate to get her brother, now, rather than waiting for morning? Why risk everything on a slim chance instead of getting help? What was she afraid of?

  Could Perrin possibly be a male xintou? Cold sleeted across his skin. Surely not. Male xintou were forbidden by Xintou House. A danger to everyone around them once they reached puberty. But if Teya was a xintou, maybe her brother would be, too.

  If that was the case, getting him out of Han Gray-Saud’s control was even more important.

  Frowning, he left the Qin-Turner house and wended his way toward the guardhouse, keeping to the shadows. Twice, the city junren passed close by, laughing, talking. One patrol passed a bottle of jiu back and forth, the liquor’s sharp, clean smell cutting through the stink of horse manure and the lilac smoke from house hearths burning dried seaweed.

  They were mighty relaxed for junren newly-placed under control of Han Gray-Saud. He was not one to appreciate laxness in his staff. If they returned to the guardhouse smelling of jiu they’d be in for an interesting lesson. Dallan waited for them to pass then ghosted through the quiet streets.

  By the time he made it unseen to the guardhouse, the final curfew bell had pealed across the city, both moons were up, and the streets were deserted. He edged along the shadowed northern wall of a house and ducked beneath a window pouring golden light onto the cobblestones. Hidden in the darkest shade, he studied shadows around the guardhouse’s bright-lit interior, across the little square.

  Jiche! There. A slight movement of black against grey. Someone small and cloaked inching their way toward the front door. The girl couldn’t be insane enough to walk right in?

  She was too used to dealing with common folk. People who had not been raised around xintou. All juns and their close weishi were taught to ward their minds. The city junren commander was now Han Gray-Saud’s chief weishi—his shangwei, Gennar Gen-kin. While Dallan didn’t know him, the man was reputed to be a stickler for perfection and a strong advocate of both corporal and capital punishment for criminals of all kinds. He’d been known to beat a child to death for stealing fruit. His mind would be well-warded.

  Dallan shuddered. He had to get to Teya before she tried to get inside.

  #

  TEYA

  Teya crept closer to the door and paused, holding her breath so the puff of white wouldn’t betray her presence. The two junren guarding the front door were standing to attention, not lounging against the stone wall or drinking as she’d seen them do in the past. She curled a lip. Gray-Saud’s influence. On his estate, he punished his weishi for any wrongdoing. Real or imagined.

  And if Gennar Gen-kin was still his shangwei, then she would have to be very careful. She had seen him only once. But once was enough.

  Her shoulders twitched at the memory of heat and the stink of burning flesh. The crackle of burning thatch. Her fists bloodied from pounding on the solid door. Her throat raw from screaming.

  She shook herself free of the swamp of dark memories.

  Instead, she hunkered against the stone wall, soaking in what little remained of the day’s heat while she waited. As soon as someone opened the door, she would sneak in and find a way to the cells.

  Her injured right shoulder twinged. The painkillers the healer had put in the poultice were wearing off. The wound throbbed and her whole arm hung heavy, the fingers swollen. If it were her other arm, it wouldn’t matter. But her left hand was clumsy when it came to theft and picking door locks. How would she get Perrin out of the cell? Could she steal a key, unseen?

  She chewed her lip, uncertainty creeping in to displace the anger and fear that had carried her so far. A cold breeze caressed her legs and slipped beneath the cloak and shirt. Her feet ached and her toes were numb. The warm bed in the Qin-Turner house held a strong pull. Maybe she could take Perrin there?

  No. That was stupid-thinking. Dallan Johnston and Jun Qin-Turner wanted something from her. Putting herself and Perrin into their control would be madness. Whatever political games they were playing had nothing to do with her.

  The guardhouse door latch clattered and the hinges creaked. A shaft of bright light speared the darkness. The two guards stiffened. The door opened
further, emitting light and two heavily-cloaked junren heading out on patrol.

  A tall, thickset man in Gray-Saud colours of copper and black emerged in their wake. He rubbed at his bald head and watched the two junren march south along the wide road.

  He tapped the two door guards. ‘You two are relieved. Get your replacements out here quick-smart. There’s a lot of unrest in the city. I don’t want this door unattended.’

  ‘Bai, Shangwei Gen-Kin!’ one guard snapped and hurried inside.

  Gen-kin! Teya swallowed. No. She had to try. Now was her chance. She faded herself from view. She moved closer to the wedge of light, drawn like a nightwing insect to its promise. The shangwei looked her way and she stopped, blood thundering in her ears. No. He couldn’t see her. She just needed to walk through the door while it stood open.

  Two more paces and she would be in the light. But he wouldn’t see her. No way.

  She took one more stealthy step. A frown gathered on Gen-kin’s sweat-slicked brow and he peered in her direction. He stirred, one hand dropping to the sword at his hip.

  One more step. She gripped the kitchen-knife-handle in a damp palm. She could do this.

  She moved into the light.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TEYA

  Something grabbed at her left shoulder and jerked her into deeper shadow. A hand clamped over her mouth. Another wrenched the knife free. She stifled a scream, conscious of Gen-kin’s closeness. A sharp kick backward missed her attacker’s leg. Boots scuffed on the cobbles.

  ‘There’s someone there!’ Gen-kin’s rough voice pierced the silence and Teya stilled. Her attacker paused too. She tried to bite.

  ‘It’s me, you little zift.’ Dallan’s whisper brushed her ear. She sagged against him, her heart almost jumping out of her chest. She nodded and he released her.

  ‘We have to get out of here,’ he murmured.

  ‘Get more men,’ Gen-kin barked. ‘There’s someone there and I want them found. Now!’

  The remaining junren at the door jumped and ran into the guardhouse. His alarm call echoed in the stone chambers and the clatter of footsteps followed his voice to the door.

  ‘Gouri!’ Teya growled. She ignored Dallan and sprinted away, heading north to get off the main east-west road through the city. Light footfalls followed and she risked a quick glimpse behind.

  Dallan. His hair and steel dagger gleamed in the moonlight. Behind him, torches flared at the guardhouse door. Burning with an ominous blood-crimson light.

  She set her teeth and ran on.

  #

  DALLAN

  Dallan caught up to her a block later. She was quick, even without shoes. Then she stumbled and cried out in pain. She leaned against a wall, clutching at her arm, one foot raised.

  ‘I stood on something.’ She offered the foot to him like an injured xiao-kitten.

  He checked behind. The junren’s cries and the flickering scarlet light of their torches danced off the surrounding walls. They weren’t far away. He couldn’t carry her to safety. Hopefully she hadn’t trodden on anything that would cut too deep and leave a blood trail.

  He sank onto his haunches to inspect her foot. She kicked at his chest, knocking him onto his rear. By the time he’d rolled over one shoulder and found his feet, she was half a block away. Her bare feet flashed in the moonlight. The cloak billowed behind her.

  Ziftish brat! What was she thinking? Dallan scrubbed at his jaw. He should let her go. He had enough to worry about with the Jun First’s visit and Gray-Saud’s influence over her.

  No. Teya was an unknown, which made her the perfect weapon in this war. He needed her gift. Until he’d met her, he hadn’t been able to work out how to get close to Gray-Saud. Now he knew and he couldn’t let her go.

  Gaisi! He took off after her, just as the first junren rounded the corner behind. A shout went up and footsteps pounded the road. Fabulous.

  Skidding around a corner, he glimpsed a ripple of cloth vanishing around the next and ploughed after her. She had doubled back and they weren’t far from the Qin-Turner house now. Did she know it? Was she heading there? If so, why run from him? No, she would go to ground somewhere she felt safer. Where?

  The Migong slums. That was her ground zero. A glass-rabbit-warren of twisting streets and alleys. If she made it that far he’d never find her.

  Unless…

  Ying! He wasn’t a telepath. Male telepaths were forbidden. But he doubted the girl had gone to bed. Most likely she was listening out for Teya, so perhaps she would hear. Ying! If you can hear me, you need to get Teya back to Qin-Turner house. It’s vital. Please? I know you think it’s wrong to manipulate her. He paused, trying to work out how to convince her.

  His lungs burned and his legs ached. He seemed to be outpacing the guards. Their cries had fallen into silence. But he’d also lost Teya. He halted in a narrow alley that stank of piss and vomit, listening. No sound of footfall. Had he passed her in the dark? Or taken a wrong turn? He surveyed the buildings around. Middle-class merchant and tradespeople’s houses. Decent and clean. Not a lot of places to hide without being discovered.

  Ying? We’re being chased by the city junren and she’s injured. If she hides we can’t help her brother and she’ll get sick of infection from that wound.

  Fine. Her girlish voice sounded in his mind. But I’ll have to tell the Xintou House Mistress about Teya, you know.

  I understand. But right now we have to protect her. Thank you. He raised his wards again to hide the deeper, unspoken lie. No way was he letting Xintou House take Teya. Not yet. Maybe not ever, if she didn’t want to go. He wasn’t going to force her.

  He waited, listening for sounds of pursuit past the drubbing of blood in his ears. Nothing, yet. He merged into the shadows and made his way toward the Qin-Turner house, glancing behind frequently.

  #

  TEYA

  Teya staggered to a halt and sucked great gulps of air. She had to…catch her breath. She pressed at the stitch in her side and checked behind. Nothing. Neither the junren with their blood-torches nor Dallan with his stupid interference.

  Oh! She’d been so close! She slumped against a brick wall, punching it with the flesh of her fist. The rough sandstone scraped her skin. Her chest tightened as she held in a scream of frustration.

  A few more steps and she would have been inside the guardhouse. Why had he stopped her? Clearly her plans would have messed up his somehow. That must be it. He needed her so badly he had to make sure she didn’t rescue Perrin, so he still had leverage.

  Her fingers curled into claws. She should have known. He was friends with a jun, after all. Out for nothing but what they wanted. No care for the people they hurt in getting it.

  She slid down the wall and curled into a ball, her forehead on her knees. The sobs in her chest tried to force their way out but she ground them between her teeth. There had to be a way. She couldn’t leave Perrin in there. Couldn’t let him be executed or sent into slavery. He was her only family. He needed her. She needed him.

  Teya lifted her face and the cold breeze stung her eyes. Staring blankly along the grey-shadowed street, she chewed on her lip. What if…

  She worked herself upright, using the wall, wincing. What if Ying Li could teach her to use her fading better? Not…xintou stuff like telepathy and messing with people’s minds. But enough to help her fade from anyone—even people with wards like Dallan. If she’d been able to do that tonight, he wouldn’t have found her.

  Yes. She straightened. That might work. It wasn’t yet midnight. She could learn that tonight and still have time to go get Perrin before dawn. In fact, it was better to get him in the early hours, when Gen-kin and most the junren were asleep.

  Satisfied, Teya orientated herself. She wasn’t too far from the Qin-Turner house. She must have run further west than she realised in her hurry to get away from Dallan. She could sneak in without him knowing.

  She took off running again.

  CHAPTER TEN

&nbs
p; TEYA

  By the time Teya eased in through the Qin-Turner’s courtyard gate and arrived at the servants’ entrance, her thighs were burning, her feet bruised and aching. Her right arm throbbed and stabbed slivers of pain through her chest. Nothing she couldn’t handle and at least she had lost the junren.

  The door opened as soon as she curled a fist to knock. She stumbled into the kitchen’s gloom and sagged against the huge timber bench.

  ‘Little zift,’ a deep voice said.

  She sagged, too tired to protest when Dallan slipped his arms under her and carried her upstairs. She cried out when he laid her on the bed and unlaced the shirt to reveal the bandaged kpinga-blade injury. She batted at him.

  ‘Stop it, you zift,’ he said. ‘I’m checking you didn’t tear the stitches again.’

  Ying hovered nearby, tears shimmering on her lashes. ‘Oh, I knew you shouldn’t have gone without me.’

  Dallan silenced her with a look and peeled aside the bamboo-cloth bandage. He inspected the injury, smeared on a thick cream smelling sharply of tea tree and re-tied the binding.

  ‘No stitches burst this time. You were lucky. Twice tonight.’

  Teya glared. ‘I was almost inside. You stopped me. I’d have Perrin out by now if you hadn’t.’ She struggled up in the too-soft bed and slumped against the carved wooden bedhead. ‘I won’t do it!’

  Dallan’s smile was weary. ‘Won’t do what?’

  ‘Whatever you want me to. I know you stopped me so I’d have to help you.’

  He swiped at his disarrayed hair and sank on to bed-edge. ‘I stopped you because Gen-kin has been trained to ward his mind. He would have seen you, as I could.’

  Teya said nothing. Was he telling the truth?

  ‘Think about it,’ he continued. ‘Gen-kin is the shangwei for Han Grey-Saud. Who knows a jun’s security weaknesses better than his chief weishi? Most juns train their closest weishi to ward. Grey-Saud has more to hide than most. The second you moved into the light you’d have been caught. You’d be in a cell with Perrin right now.’

 

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