A Future, Forged

by Aiki Flinthart

  Would she be happy, surrounded by luxury like this? Teya took in the impressive, vaulted timber ceilings, the blood-red walls of the towers at either end of the foyer, the rich smells of timber polish and roasting meat, the sound of distant laughter and music from somewhere upstairs.

  It was a far cry from the two-roomed cottage where Helva Connor had raised Teya and birthed Perrin. A far cry from the hand-to-mouth existence of a woman scorned by the village for—

  Teya stopped the thought cold. No point in rehashing the past. She was here to correct the present and free Perrin.

  Dagger handle tight in her grip, she took the stairs two at a time.

  #

  TEYA

  A servant directed her to a room on the south tower’s third floor. Teya sucked a slow breath, trying to calm the drubbing of her blood. She climbed the broad spiral staircase, each step harder than the last. Her palms grew sweaty and slipped on the smooth timber railing.

  She reached Han’s door and hesitated, trembling. No. She pulled back her shoulders. She could do this. Remembering all the reasons she hated this man helped. Bitter heat billowed from deep inside, driving away fear. She clenched her teeth.

  With the fake message crushed in her right hand, she knocked with her left and waited.

  The door jerked open. Teya froze. Gennar Gen-kin glowered at her, one hand on the door, one on his sword. Too late to change her image in his thoughts. He stared right at her.

  He couldn’t recognise her. She’d only been in the light for a second last night. Maybe he hadn’t even seen her? And she’d always hidden from him, back in her home village—though of course he knew she existed. But even on that last day, he couldn’t have seen her. Not with all the smoke and fire. He thought her dead. They all did.

  His expression didn’t change from bored and cold. She relaxed a little. No. He didn’t recognise her.

  ‘Message?’

  She nodded. ‘Private. For Shenshi Gray-Saud.’ Her voice quivered and broke.

  ‘Bring it in, then.’

  Teya forced her feet to move through the treacle trapping them. Inside the apartment she tried to keep calm. A Inside the apartment she tried to keep calm and pretend everything was normal. A Chinshi servant wouldn’t be astonished by the luxury, but it was hard to ignore

  Heavy, dark-wood furniture dominated the room. A massive dining table and eight ornately-carved chairs. A chandelier of actual blackened steel, fitted with real electric bulbs hung overhead. The red-timber floor was covered by huge silk rugs in abstract designs of black and silver. And, set into the northern wall, a large window of stained glass threw beautifully-coloured light across a broad, wooden desk.

  Standing beside the desk was a tall, lean man with dark red-brown hair. His back was to her and she stretched a thought out to test his wards. She needed to find a crack. The surface was hard and smooth. Solid. Not even a hairline fissure. She concentrated and forced her roiling blood to calm.

  Then she pictured the steel hammer she’d used to break Ying’s wards.

  The man turned and pierced her with eyes the colour of storm clouds.

  ‘Ah. Who have we here, Gen?’

  Behind her, the shangwei grunted. ‘Yes, shenshi. It’s the right one.’

  Han’s smile broadened and he rubbed his palms together. ‘Excellent. Come. Sit, boy. I’ve been expecting you.’

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  TEYA

  Teya jumped. ‘I…I don’t understand, shenshi.’ She thrust the message at him, her hand shaking. ‘I’m just delivering a message.’ Her heart thudded, fear replacing anger. Her thoughts scattered. She couldn’t focus well enough to pierce his wards and fade herself. Certainly not well enough to trick both men at once.

  She was a shazi. She should have prepared better. Waited for the door to open rather than knocking. Slipped in unseen. What had she been thinking? She hadn’t. She’d been arrogant and angry and stupid. Now she had no choice but to try and make this work. Somehow.

  Han strolled over and accepted the message, his smile condescending. Teya waited, trying not to shrink from his piercing scrutiny. He couldn’t recognise her. He’d only seen her twice in her life. Once as a child and once had been through the haze of her burning house. Five years before. She’d changed a lot since then. Surely…

  He tapped the message roll and walked in a circle around her. ‘Message from who?’

  ‘Dunno, shenshi,’ she managed. ‘Took it from the Messenger House runner at the gate.’

  ‘So, not from Dallan Johnston, then?’

  She controlled a twitch of reaction. ‘Dunno, shenshi.’ She forced out the scripted words Dallan had written for her. ‘Can I take the runner an answer?’

  ‘Oh…’ He threw the message onto the desk and sauntered over to her ‘…yes. But maybe not the one Johnston was expecting.’

  ‘I…I don’t understand,’ she repeated. She needed to centre. Needed to get into his mind. She swept a tentative thought over the smooth surface of Han’s wards. They were rock hard and solid. Stronger than Ying’s or even Neri or Dallan’s. She readied the hammer in her mind. This wouldn’t be quick or easy.

  The hammer faded, slippery and insubstantial. What? What was wrong with her? Oh. Anger. She had to get her emotions under control.

  But the fire in her gut bubbled too hot at the sight of Gray-Saud’s conceit. He deserved to be smashed to pieces physically as well as mentally.

  Teya curled her fingers into fists. She could do this. She concentrated again. The hammer re-emerged in her mind.

  A real ceramic blade appeared by her ear and all thought of casting illusions vanished. Her stomach knotted. What should she do? Run? There was nowhere to hide. Gen-kin loomed beside her, his sword caressing her neck. He chuckled.

  ‘Saw your face, boy. Last night.’ He leaned closer, his breath rank. ‘Thought you lost my men when you ran, didn’t you? But they followed you. All the way to the Qin-Turner house. With Johnston. Now.’ He dragged a dining chair into the middle of the room and pointed at it. ‘You’re going to sit while Shenshi Han explains a few things.’

  Her legs shook so much Teya could barely move. She stumbled to the chair and sank into it. If she could think, she could get herself out of this. She could do this! Had to. Hot and cold sleeted across her skin.

  Han rotated a chair and straddled it, resting his arms on the back. He tilted his head.

  ‘You seem…familiar, boy. Do I know you? You’re not a Chinshi servant, I know that. One of Qin-Turner’s servants? Or Johnston’s?’

  She shook her head and repressed a shaky sigh. He still thought her a boy. If he realised she wasn’t, though…

  ‘Whatever Johnston has offered you,’ he said, ‘I’ll double it.’

  Teya gasped. ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me.’ His cool expression didn’t change. ‘Whatever he offered you to kill me, I’ll double it if you kill him, instead.’

  ‘I don’t…he didn’t…’ She stopped. That was too close to an admission.

  Han waved her words away. ‘Let’s lay our cards on the table, shall we? I know Johnston wants me dead. And I want him in a similar state. He’s an interfering hundan.’ He sniffed. ‘He doesn’t understand what I’m trying to do. Our economy can’t continue as it has.’

  His regard returned to her. ‘Where are you from, boy?’

  Teya swallowed. ‘The Migong slums, shenshi.’

  ‘Then you know how poor our people have become. The Melcor way of binding the poorest people to the rich simply means they are always assured of a meal and a place to sleep and work to do each day.’ He threw out his arms. ‘Why can’t people like Dallan Johnston understand that? It’s not about taking away people’s freedom, it’s about making sure everyone has the basics and the rich provide for the poor.’ He smiled. ‘So mothers don’t have to sacrifice for their children. Older siblings don’t have to sacrifice for their younger ones. You understand, don’t you?’

  She understood sacrifice, alrigh
t, but… Teya said nothing. Could Dallan have got it wrong? What if Han wasn’t intending to enslave unwilling people at all? What if all of this was because of a misunderstanding? There was no denying that many people in the Migongs would be better off if what Han said was true.

  She shook herself. Was she mad? He couldn’t be believed. She, of all people, knew that.

  Han sighed. ‘But Dallan won’t listen to reason. Xintou House won’t approve an assassination and he’s too well-guarded for an illegal attempt. So.’ He slapped the chair timber. ‘That leaves you, boy.’

  ‘Me?’ Teya forced her voice into lower registers. ‘I’m not going to kill him for you.’ With the immediate threat of a sword through the throat withdrawn, her mind was clearing, though her limbs still shook with the aftermath.

  Han rose and crouched before her. Now was her moment. Her hand crept to the dagger under her tunic. She prepared the hammer’s image again, ready to strike at his wards and push an illusion into his mind. To distract him.

  She grasped the dagger.

  Something yanked her arm. She cried out. Gen wrenched her wrist painfully and the knife fell to the floor. He released her, gathered the dagger and passed it to Han. Teya cradled her wrist, rubbing at the red marks left by Gen’s fingers.

  Han inspected Dallan’s steel blade. ‘Yes, I recognise this. I’m not surprised he wanted you to use this. Did he tell you why?’

  Teya shook her head.

  He barked a laugh. ‘Again, I am singularly unsurprised. He always was a coward who let other people do his dirty work.’

  Han took a few steps away, then came back. He crouched again and searched her face, tapping the steel point on her thigh. She tried to control the shaking of her hands and stare at him insolently. But she couldn’t stand against his intensity.

  ‘If you kill him, I’ll give you anything you want,’ he said. ‘Anything you can think of.’

  She hesitated. ‘Anything?’

  He tucked the dagger into his belt. ‘Within reason.’

  She could ask for Perrin’s freedom. This would be over. They could leave Asalam. Go south to Shanzhai, maybe. Away from all this madness.

  Could it be that easy?

  ‘Han?’ A woman’s voice broke into the silence.

  ‘Shenshi?’ A second woman’s voice followed, deeper, stronger.

  Teya and Han both turned toward the sound. The bedroom door framed two women, one tall, deep-chested, wearing the traditional shimmering gold robes and half-veil of a Bonded Xintou

  Teya’s fists curled. Shana Blake, Han’s Xintou. The woman’s eyes were obscured by the translucent gold half-veil, but she gave a grunt of what might be surprise.

  The second person was a small woman of about thirty-five, her long, dark hair loose past her shoulders, a blond toddler on one hip. Her sapphire eyes widened.

  ‘Teya!’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  TEYA

  ‘Teya?’ Han shot to his feet. ‘Gouri!’ He held her chin and turned her to the light. ‘Of course. I’m a shazi not to have seen it.’

  He gestured to Gen-kin and nodded toward Teya’s mother, who was hurrying across the room. ‘Get Helva out of here.’

  Gen-kin wrapped an arm around Helva’s waist and hauled her away.

  ‘Mother!’ ‘No!’ Teya and her mother spoke at once. The toddler wailed. Teya half-rose from the chair, but Han’s iron hand pushed her down. His thumb dug into the knife-wound and her knees collapsed with the pain. She let out a whimper and rode a surge of nausea.

  ‘Shana,’ Han said, ‘get a message to the weishi in the cellblock. I want that boy.’

  The Xintou nodded and her gaze unfocussed. ‘Done, shenshi. Shall I stay while you interrogate her?’

  Teya felt a sharp prodding at her wards. She stiffened but kept her expression blank. The Xintou was trying to break through.

  Shana’s mouth pinched at the corners. ‘Strong wards. It would take time, but once they’re gone she’ll do what you want.’

  Han gestured indifferently. ‘No need. Keep Helva quiet and get that boy.’

  Gen-kin hauled Helva from the room, silencing her tearful calls with a ringing slap. The child let out a cry, cut off by the slam of a door. Voices murmured, words indistinguishable. Gen-kin reappeared. He locked the bedroom door, then the exit, leaning against it with his muscular arms folded and coldness curling his lips.

  Pinned to the chair by Han’s unwavering examination, Teya shrank in on herself, cursing her stupidity. She should never have agreed to this. Dallan had been right: she wasn’t ready.

  Han strolled around the room, surveying her. ‘I suspect I know what motivated you to help Dallan.’

  She said nothing, fixated on her fists clenched in her lap.

  ‘Gen tells me there’s a boy in the southern tower prison cells who claims the name of Connor. Perrin Connor, in fact.’

  Teya couldn’t help a quick glance at him. The smug expression there made her stomach drop.

  He shrugged. ‘I thought it a lie or a co-incidence, but it’s not, is it? You both survived. How is that? Gen burnt that hovel to the ground.’

  She ground her fingers together until they were numb. There had to be some way to use her gift. Some illusion she could throw into his mind to distract him. She played with wild ideas of fire and her own imaginary death, but could think of no way to wrest the door key from Gen-kin without betraying the illusion.

  There had to be something she could do! She had to think.

  ‘There is something you can do,’ Han said.

  Teya blinked at him.

  ‘Kill Dallan and I’ll release Perrin. I’ll even set you up in your own house. Perhaps find you a hunlin.’ His lips warped into a smug smile. ‘Yes, in a year or so, when you’ve filled out, I could use you to good advantage somewhere.’

  She shuddered.

  He laughed softly. ‘Do we have a deal?’

  What choice did she have? She nodded, hating the frisson of guilt that twisted sickness in her gut.

  ‘Excellent,’ Han said.

  ‘Give me the dagger,’ she managed. ‘Or he’ll guess.’

  He patted the blade where it lay tucked in his belt. ‘No, I think I’ll keep this as a souvenir. Gen, do you have that phial of gu-spider poison I asked you to get from Weishi House Poisons Master? Give it to her.’

  The shangwei sauntered over and thrust a small ceramic phial at her. Dark blue and stoppered with wax, it looked innocuous. But gu-spider venom was lethal, even in small doses. Even Teya knew that. She stared at it, then took the phial and dropped it into a pocket without speaking.

  ‘Go, then, girl,’ Han said. ‘You have one day. I want to hear his death cried on the streets by the Messenger House runners by this time tomorrow. If I don’t, then Perrin dies…no.’ He flashed white teeth in a mirthless smile. ‘He’ll become the first of my slaves in the new economy. He’s a pretty enough boy, I hear. I’m sure my friends will quite enjoy his…company.’

  Gen held the door open and laughed.

  Teya staggered from the room. Tears blurred the long, dark hallway and she almost missed her footing on the winding staircase in her haste to put distance between them. The phial bumped against her leg with every step.

  At the bottom of the stairs she paused, lost, trying not to vomit her horror.

  ‘Keep walking,’ Dallan’s voice hissed from behind her. ‘Head up. Walk as though you’re on an important errand. When we’re outside the gates we’ll talk.’

  Her legs boneless and mind scattered, Teya could think of nothing else to do but obey.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  DALLAN

  Dallan studied Teya, debating how to approach her. She hadn’t spoken a word the whole way from the Chinshi. Now, back in her bedroom, she sat curled in one of Neri’s plush armchairs. Her knees were drawn up to her forehead, her good arm around her legs as though they were a shield.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked, dropping into another chair with a heavy sigh. ‘I�
�m guessing you weren’t able to kill him?’

  Teya said nothing.

  ‘Where’s my dagger? You—’

  The door burst open and Ying rushed in. She hurried to Teya’s side and stroked the girl’s unruly auburn hair.

  ‘Are you alright?’

  ‘Don’t.’ Teya pushed the touch aside, giving a glimpse of haggard shadows haunting her expression.

  Ying looked to Dallan. ‘Did you…did it go…where’s Perrin?’

  He scrubbed at his jaw. ‘I made it as far as the cells beneath the tower. He’s there, alright. I almost had them convinced to release him to me. Then the weishi got a message and the boy was taken from the cells and upstairs in the Chinshi somewhere. No way I could stop them.’

  A strangled cry burst from Teya and she covered her face.

  Dallan groaned and rested his head on the chairback. ‘Never mind. I know it was too much to ask of you. I’m sorry. Killing someone is harder than people think. The first few times, anyway.’ He uttered a harsh laugh. ‘It does get easier, unfortunately.’

  Ying sent him a reproachful glare and he tried to shunt aside the burn of angry disappointment low in his guts. How the diyu was he supposed to get close to Han before the hunli ceremony made him too powerful to ever stop? He was a fool for putting so much hope in such a slight chance. Teya was untried and inexperienced. For all her superficial streetwise bravado, she was still very young.

  He rose and paced the room as he tried to think his way through the mess. It had all happened too fast. Han held every strong piece on the qi board. Dallan, and the eight juns he’d managed to convince to help, had few resources and little support. Most other juns were either complacent, or terrified of Han. Now that the man was on the brink of controlling the First and both Second jundoms, those few juns brave enough to stand against him would withdraw if decisive action wasn’t taken soon.

  Neri appeared in the doorway. ‘There’s no news from the Messenger House criers and no bells have rung from the Chinshi to alert the city to any deaths.’ Her eyes glittered. ‘I take it you failed?’