‘Good point.’ Dallan paced the room. ‘We need to plan and you…’ he pointed at Teya ‘…need to practice getting through wards quickly.’
‘Then what? How do we get close to Han?’
‘Like I said, there might be another way in.’
Teya eyed him askance.
From within his jacket, he first produced her bronze dagger, then a folded piece of yellowed bamboo paper. He unfolded the paper, shifted the remains of their meals aside and laid it on the table.
‘It’s a plan of the Chinshi. I stole it from the archive vault, which is downstairs next to the prison cells. I’d seen it once before, years ago, so it was easy enough to find.’
Teya shot to her feet, glowering at him. ‘So, you going for Perrin? Me going to kill Han? It was all…what…a lie and a distraction so you could get a map?’
‘Calm down!’ He towered over her. ‘Stop thinking the worst of everyone. When they took Perrin I assumed something had gone wrong and finding the map was the only other option I had. If they’d captured you, then I needed this to get you both out.’ He met her fierceness with honest intensity. ‘I wasn’t going to leave you there. Either of you. I don’t renege on my promises.’
She examined him but there was no trace of a lie. For the first time she wished her xintou skills included telepathy; that she could read him. But she couldn’t, and whether his words were true was yet to be seen. She returned to the table and pored over the map.
It took a while for the complex collection of lines and tiny words to make sense, then she understood. The building was separated into floors, each one drawn as an outline. Down one side of the paper was a series of strange symbols. They represented stairs, doors, where wine was stored, the well in the kitchen courtyard. And the bath-house and stables complex behind the house proper—where water entered, pumped from the hot springs outside the city.
‘Here.’ Dallan pointed to part of the drawing. ‘This is the prison cells under the south tower. And Jenna’s quarters—where Han will be—are here. Higher up in the same tower.’ He pointed to a large, rectangular space in a separate drawing.
‘But we don’t want to kill Jenna. And why would Han be—’ Her cheeks warmed and she took in Ying’s innocence. ‘Oh.’
Ying giggled. ‘I’m not ignorant. I know what you’re talking about.’
Teya looked sidelong at Dallan. ‘You don’t mean it? You want me to try and kill Han in the bedroom, with his new hunlinna right there? During the consummation hour?’
He chuckled. ‘Can you think of a time or place when he will be less guarded and less wary? Especially if he thinks I’m dead. And Jenna has no fighting skills. She won’t be able to stop you.’
‘But what if Perrin isn’t in the prison cells any more?’
‘Once Han hears the news of my death, he should release Perrin.’
‘He won’t.’ She folded her arms, grimacing when the injured shoulder reminded her it was far from healed.
‘Why would he keep Perrin? He can’t ransom the boy for money. While I admit he’s a wisix hundan, there’s no benefit in breaking his promise to you.’
Teya pretended deep interest in the map. ‘I don’t trust him, that’s all.’
Dallan observed her closely. ‘Is there some other reason, Teya? Is Perrin…’ he frowned ‘…a male xintou?’
She stilled. ‘He’s never done anything like what I can do. Why?’
‘Xintou abilities don’t show until puberty, anyway,’ Ying put in. ‘But male xintou are really rare. And…’ her voice dropped to a whisper ‘…really dangerous. But no-one remembers why.’
‘That’s what worries me.’ Dallan’s scowl deepened. ‘I thought that might be why Han wanted him, if you’re so sure he will.’
‘Oh, he will. Like you said: he likes to control people and he won’t be happy that Perrin and I escaped the first time.’ Hoping to change the subject, Teya bent over the map’s confusing welter of lines, circles and cramped writing in faded ink. ‘And what do we do about Shana?’
‘First things first. Let’s get Perrin, then my dagger, then we kill Han.’
She picked up her own bronze dagger and tucked it into her belt. Then she regarded him. ‘Why is it so important to use that dagger? And don’t give me that feihua about alzin armour. When he took it he said something about you wanting it to be the weapon that killed him.’ When he didn’t reply, only pensively studied the map, she folded her arms again. ‘I’m not helping if you don’t tell me.’
He sank into his chair with a weary sigh. ‘When I first went to Asalam Weishi House I was twelve or so. Han was fourteen. Charismatic. Rich. Handsome.’ Wintry self-disdain chilled his expression. ‘I was flattered when he sought me out. Groomed me. When I turned sixteen we were lovers for a few months.’ His jaw hardened. ‘Until a new student transferred from Madina Weishi House and I saw what Han really was.’
‘What happened?’
He lifted his eyes and they harboured such bleakness Teya flinched. ‘He likes to twist people’s thinking. To manipulate them. To use and discard them. He tried to do it to me. But I’d grown up with a jun for a friend and a xintou for a teacher, so I understood mindgames. But Han drove the new lad to suicide. The boy had become a good friend of mine. If Han did it out of jealousy or spite, I don’t know.’ His jaw worked. ‘I found the body. And the note. When I reported him to the House Master, Han used his influence to save his own neck and lay the blame on me. I quit to save my parents’ grief. If I hadn’t, Han would have had me kicked out of the House.’
He half-drew his sword and ran a thumb over the dull white yanstone embedded in the pommel. ‘Four more boys took their own lives in the two years he stayed after I left. He knows why I want to put my dagger into him.’
Teya thrust guilt aside. She should have killed him today. ‘What do I do?’
He squeezed her wrist. ‘Thank you. When it’s all over, I’ll make sure you and Perrin are safe and well cared-for.’
She snorted. ‘You make it sound easy.’
‘Not easy,’ he replied, wryly. ‘But I can’t afford to give in to pessimism. You’re my best hope of saving this jundom. I’m counting on you. And you can count on me.’
Ying wormed her way under Teya’s arm. ‘And me.’
Uneasy, Teya broke free and wandered over to the now-dark window. Outside the thunderstorm still growled and flashed, silhouetting the Chinshi’s twin towers against brilliant flares of purple-white light. Soft golden lamps glowed in windows all over the city. Shadows of people passed before them, dancing, walking, running; living ordinary lives unaffected by the tide of change about to swamp them.
A tide she was supposed to hold back and not drown in. As much as they might say she could count on them, neither Ying nor Dallan could take her place in this madness.
‘Right.’ She turned. ‘We’d best practice my illusion-casting and plan how we’re going to convince Neri you’re dead, then.’
Ying sent her a dubious look. ‘You’ll need to stop being angry if you want to be strong enough to break Han Gray-Saud’s wards.’
With a bitter laugh, Teya rolled her eyes. ‘That’s like asking the hot springs to stop being hot.’
‘But you don’t understand—’
‘Leave it, Ying! You’re not my mother. I’m fine the way I am. Anger at Gray-Saud helped me survive these last five years. There’s no way I can start being all loving toward him. You don’t know what he did.’
‘I don’t mean—’
Teya cut her off with a glare and addressed Dallan. ‘What do I do and how do I get into the Chinshi?’
‘You’ll go in the front door again, secure Perrin’s release and hand him to Ying in the main hall. Then she—’
‘I can’t go in the front. If Han sees me again, he’ll keep me and Perrin, both,’ she said.
‘You don’t know—’
She regarded him coldly.
He nodded. ‘Very well. So how do we get you and I in, then? Because I�
��ll be dead so I can’t walk in the front door, either.’
She peered at the map, again.
‘What about this?’ She pointed. ‘You can’t fit, but I can. And I think I know another way for you to get inside.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
TEYA
Ying screamed just after dawn.
Teya peeked through a gap in the clothes closet door. Barrod burst into the room, weapon drawn. Ying, standing by the bed, pointed at Dallan’s body, sprawled in the middle of the floor.
Teya focussed on Barrod’s wards, ensuring the illusion was strong and steady. The weishi blanched and knelt by Dallan. Teya could see the rise and fall of Dallan’s chest, but to Barrod it ought to look like the man lay still and lifeless, with a pool of blood soaking his shirt and puddling under his body.
Neri appeared in the doorway, already resplendent in a deep grey robe with intricate copper embroidery around the neck and cuffs. Teya drove the illusion through her wards, glad now she had spent hours training with Ying last night. A wave of weakness swept through her, but she held herself strong. She should have eaten something.
Neri paled and sagged against the doorframe.
Barrod swore. ‘What happened?’
Ying shrank. ‘W-when I woke, he was dead and Teya was gone.’
Barrod scanned the room. The window stood open, the heavy velvet curtains swaying in the dawn breeze. He ran over and thrust his head outside. Teya inserted a carefully-constructed image of herself, fleeing from the house’s courtyard. Hopefully he wouldn’t question her ability to scale the wall, injured as she was.
Neri approached the body, one trembling hand over her mouth. Teya set her jaw. Holding two illusions at once was difficult.
Spinning on his heel, Barrod rushed out the door, yelling. His footsteps clattered on the stairs and more voices echoed in the depths of the house. Teya let his mind go. Now he could chase shadows without her input. She centred on Neri.
The jun knelt at Dallan’s side and shakily touched his jugular. Teya blocked the awareness of sensory input with an illusion of cold skin and no pulse. After a long silence, Neri rose, her shoulders slumped and face haggard.
She reached out to Ying. ‘I’m sorry, child. He’s dead. Oh, I’m a fool for accepting that girl. I knew she was trouble the second I saw her.’ She considered Dallan bleakly. ‘And we have no time to mourn him for we must get ready and leave for the ceremonies. I can’t afford to get on Han’s bad side.’
Ying’s lower lip trembled. ‘But why would Teya do this?’
In the closet’s darkness, Teya smiled. The kid was a pretty good actor.
‘I suppose Han offered her brother’s life in exchange for Dallan’s and she found it too hard to resist.’ Neri gazed one last time at the body and turned away, her throat working. ‘He was a good man. Naïve in his belief in the best in people, but a good man. I wish…’ She shook her head. ‘Nevermind. Let’s go.’
With a glance at the cupboard, Ying gathered her belongings and trailed Neri out the door. The lock clicked shut behind them.
Teya emerged from the cupboard. Dallan rolled to his feet and joined her at the door.
‘Naïve!’ He snorted. Teya put a finger to her lips.
He whispered, ‘Now we need to get into the storehouse where Neri has those snow-serpents caged. Think you can project the image of that servant, who brought dinner, carrying my body if we meet anyone?’
Teya nodded.
‘Here.’ He draped his tartan cloak—reversed to show the black lining—over her shoulders. ‘It’s cold out. Once I’m inside the Chinshi walls, you go to the entry point. When you’re inside, wait for me at the exit point. It should be empty.’
His brow clouded. He hauled her into a rough hug and kissed her forehead. ‘Be safe, alright?’
‘I know,’ she said, trying to ignore the pang of longing in her chest. ‘You need me.’
He held her away. ‘Actually, I’m looking forward to introducing you and Perrin to my hunlinna and son. They’ll like you.’ He hesitated and added, ‘When this is over, if your mother is amenable, the village near my estates could use a good midwife. There’s a place for you all, if you want.’
Turning away, he produced two slender, steel lockpicks from a compartment in the heel of his boot, and released the doorlock. Then he crept out and, after a moment, Teya followed, her heart stuttering.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
TEYA
Teya wrapped Dallan’s cloak closer about herself and tucked her hands under her armpits as she waited in the crowd along the causeway leading to the Chinshi’s front façade. A parade of juns and rich merchants, who’d been invited to the hunli ceremony, sauntered and rode between a cheering crowd of common folk.
She’d been waiting for an hour, now.
The sun played hide and seek behind thick, dark clouds. Occasional flurries of fine, cold rain made the ground slick but didn’t dampen the party atmosphere.
She studied the crowd milling about in the huge courtyard before the Chinshi. Thousands of people had arrived to wait for the bells that would announce the end of the Jun First’s hunli ceremony. Women were brilliant flowers, dressed in silks and bright cloths; many wearing the half-veil favoured by those of higher caste. Men, in more sober robes, drank jiu and wine from wineseller stands dotted around the courtyard.
Families showed their loyalty to their ranking jun by wearing a scarf or ribbon of the jun’s colours. Everywhere fluttered scraps of black and silver, black and copper, black and gold. Most of those present were allied to Han or the Jun First, by the looks of it. With a smattering of purples and greens to for the two Jun Second jundoms.
Weaving between the chattering people were entertainers of all descriptions: dancers in gauzy veils, musicians twanging ouds, playing pipes, or tapping drums; enterprising merchants selling hastily-made gew-gaws to commemorate the hunli; others carrying trays of steaming pork buns and dumplings.
The rich, meaty scents made Teya’s stomach rumble, for Dallan’s ‘death’ this morning had made her miss breakfast. She could almost hear Ying’s mothering demands that she eat something.
She waited until a bun-vendor wandered past, faded herself, and stole two buns and two dumplings, almost burning her tongue when she ate them in haste. She stole a cup of redberry juice to wash them down and wiped away the scarlet liquid. She would have enough energy now, hopefully.
Amongst the chatter, music and laughter, the Messenger House criers announcing Dallan Johnston’s death went almost unheard. Hard-faced city junren in Han’s colours followed close on the criers’ heels, observing people and taking the names of anyone who seemed upset at the news.
The food churned in her stomach and she removed herself from the junrens’ line of sight.
The braying of brass trumpets announced the arrival of the next jun. Teya craned to see through the mass of heads. There. Neri reclined in a palanquin, her eyes veiled by thin copper-coloured silk, nodding regally to the crowds of cheering people as she passed. Seated opposite, bolt upright, was Ying. The gleaming gold silk robes and veil of a xintou seemed heavy and thick on her small shoulders.
Teya directed her attention to Neri’s entourage. A pair of black-and-white striped che-ma were harnessed to a huge cage on wooden wheels. The che-mas’ eyes rolled and they whickered and shook their stiff manes. They strained at the harness and pulled the cage along jerkily, their hooves clattering on the stone road. Their fear was understandable. The cage held a pair of huge, white-furred snow-serpents.
Teya stared in awe. She’d heard of the black-and-blue quetzal serpents from the warmer northern jundoms, and seen a green-furred one from the Makaan desert, northeast of Madina. But the snow-serpents from Jadid were mountain-dwelling and rarely caught.
They twined and coiled around each other in the close-barred cage. Their heads were larger than Teya’s. Their fangs longer than her forearm. Their white-blue eyes glittered, cold and soullessly frightening.
A mate
d pair would make Han the envy of all other juns. Which was precisely his aim.
He always wanted what he couldn’t have. Now, as consort to the Jun First, he could have anything. What would he do with that power?
Teya squinted as sunlight flared through a gap in the clouds.
The cage’s base was skirted with a fall of copper and grey silk which hid the gap beneath. Dallan lay hidden beneath the cage, holding tight to the undercarriage. With her injured arm, she wouldn’t have had the strength to hold on. No way of telling, though, if he had made it this far.
Would he be there when she emerged into the Chinshi’s interior, later? She set her jaw. Even if he wasn’t, she had to try and free Perrin. No point in asking Han for her brother’s release. Even before Dallan’s stories of how Han behaved in Weishi House, she’d known it was hopeless.
He would never let her, or Perrin, go. Not alive, anyway.
Neri’s group passed out of view and the Chinshi’s great timber gates creaked closed on the last of the officially-invited guests. Outside, the people of Asalam prepared to celebrate the binding of their Jun First.
Dragon dancers sprang into action, leaping from roof to roof around the courtyard. The great red dragon flapped its mouth and rolled its eyes, the sinuous body undulating behind on human legs. A spray of rare and expensive fireworks gushed into the peridot sky in a flare of red sparkles. A cheer erupted from the throng. The pleasantly-acrid smoke from the fireworks settled on the crowd, mingling with hints of blackweed, rain, and roasting meats.
Teya slipped away.
She worked her way around the Chinshi via the back streets. Even there people were dancing and drinking jiu. Parties in the larger houses vomited guests and entertainers out into the street. It seemed like the entire town was taking the day off, for she encountered few carts or merchants laden with goods and most shops were closed.
But the city junren, in Han’s colours, were out in force. Three times she was obliged to hide and once she had to flip over a fence and crouch behind it until the pair of guards passed. A sharp pain reminded her of the injury and she prodded her shoulder. No blood, but the wound was hot and painful. She flexed her fingers, dismayed to find them swollen and weak.
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