A Future, Forged

by Aiki Flinthart

  When she found the entry point outside the Chinshi’s west wall, her luck was in. There were no people or junren around. The manhole was tucked away in an alley between the rambling buildings of Weishi House, and a herbalist’s shop. Teya paused outside the window. Could she buy more poison and feed it to Han, somehow? No. She had no coin and, since he had trained in Weishi House, he would know about poisons and how to cure them. He might even have food tasters.

  She found the manhole at the alley’s end and kicked aside a layer of rubbish and leaves that obscured it. Then she examined it for a long time, debating. The conduit fed hot water from the springs high on the cliffs, west of the city.

  Could she do this? Normally she was a strong swimmer, but with an injured shoulder… And she would need to hold her breath. Let the current carry her a hundred metres from this point. Under the Chinshi’s solid stone walls, to the bath house.

  She shuddered. For Perrin. She could do this for him.

  Teya levered the manhole and slid it aside, hissing at the strain in her arm. Steam roiled from the darkness and the rush of water burbled and flicked droplets out on to the road. The space was barely large enough to fit her shoulders. She folded Dallan’s cloak and hid it behind a stack of timber to one side then returned to regard the dark water.

  Dallan had assured her there would be light from the side conduits leading to houses. It was, apparently, a rite of passage in Weishi House to make this run from the House all the way beneath the Chinshi and out the other side. More than three hundred metres. Surely she could make a hundred. Teya stared at the water and gulped air.

  Dallan had given her precise instructions. The second conduit to the left would access the Chinshi bath house. There would be a handle to grab, put there for the maintenance children.

  But they had air tubes.

  No. She could do this. The current would be fast enough to carry her there before she ran out of breath.

  She could do this.

  She could.

  The steady thump of marching feet from the main street gave her impetus. Junren. At least half a dozen, by the sounds of it; swordbelts jingling, the leader shouting orders to her men. Closer with every step. No more time to think about it.

  Teya climbed into the hole and stood on the tunnel’s brick-lined floor, her head above the street. She painfully dragged the manhole cover closer, struggling one-armed with the heavy timber slab.

  The stomp of feet drew closer. A few more metres and they would be at the alley’s entry, able to see her. Ignoring the pain, she used both hands and hauled the lid on. She dragged three deep breaths, filling her lungs right to the bottom each time. On the fourth she crouched and dropped the lid into place. Only a fingerswidth of air remained between the water’s surface and the cover’s underside.

  All was darkness and womb-like warmth around her. The current tugged at her legs. She gripped the tunnel’s upper edge at her hip height. Before she could panic, she lifted her feet and sank into the flow of water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  DALLAN

  Dallan held on until his arms and legs burned and he could no longer hold his place beneath the cart. Only then did he let go and lower himself to the damp cobblestones. He lay there, massaging blood into his hands and waiting for his muscles to stop trembling.

  The snow-serpent cart had trundled the dozen or so blocks from Neri’s house to the Chinshi at a pace that made Dallan want to scream with frustration. When it finally reached the Jun First’s Asalam residence, it had sat in the middle of the courtyard inside the walls forever, surrounded by hurrying people on all sides. Then, at last, someone had directed a servant to take it behind the house to the stables.

  Dallan had almost cried out in relief when the che-ma were unhitched and the cart dragged off to one side. Even then it had taken far too long for the stableyard to empty of servants and ostlers.

  Now, he peered out from beneath the silk curtain. No-one. He held his scabbard off the ground and scrambled from beneath the cart. The two big snakes inside hissed at him, baring fangs longer than his hand. One struck at the bars, the sound of its snout hitting metal ringing out in the empty courtyard. He leapt aside with an oath, his heart skipping.

  Brushing dirt off his clothes, he oriented himself. First, to find out if Perrin was in the prison cells. If the map was right, a second entrance existed through the kitchens.

  He surveyed the rear of the house—little more than a large, square block, studded with windows. Behind him lay the stables, servants’ quarters, and the kitchen garden and orchard that provided for the house.

  The map showed the ground floor rear was mostly kitchen, storage. Hard against the northern wall, stood the huge bath house that catered to the whole household. The Jun First had her own bath room upstairs, in her chambers.

  The bath house would be where Teya came out. With any luck, all the servants would be too busy to bathe at this time and it would be empty. And would have towels and probably spare clothes for her to steal.

  A stone-lined well protruded from the ground not far from the kitchen door. The house had piped water, so the well must be for use by the stablehands for watering animals and cleaning. He hurried over and peered in. Only water rippled in the bottom, black and silver and hazed in steam. A safe place for Teya to emerge if she missed the exit for the bath house. Greenish-bronze handholds formed a ladder up the slimy walls.

  For now, he needed to get inside and see if Perrin was in the prison cells. No time to try and find a servant’s livery. Hopefully his own, expensive, dark blue-and-green tunic and trous would allow him to pass as a lost guest and he could bluff his way in if seen.

  He scanned the sun, hazed behind the tattered remnants of rainclouds. Maybe half an hour to midday. Once the hunli ceremony was complete, the house bells would toll, along with all those around town. According to tradition, Han and Jenna would withdraw for an hour to their chambers to consummate the bond. Then they would reappear to host the feast and hear special pleas from the juns.

  That hour was the window for success. But there were so many ‘ifs’. So many variables.

  Not the least of which was Teya, herself. Would she follow through? Would she make her way to the bedroom and trust him to do his part in releasing Perrin while she did hers? She clearly had little respect for any juns or friends of juns. Was he mad to put all his hope into the hands of a girl who wanted nothing to do with him?

  How else could he possibly get close to Han? He couldn’t. Han was too wary.

  But, perhaps, he could check and make sure she kept her end of the bargain—at least as far as arriving in the bath house.

  Which meant he had to find the prison cells, fast. If, as Teya suspected, Han had kept Perrin close by after meeting Teya, the trip would be a waste of time. But he’d promised. Why she thought the boy would be so important to Han was a mystery. Was there something special about the child that Han knew? Could the earlier hypothesis—that the boy was a male xintou—be right?

  If it were… If the vague rumours about the extraordinary power of a male xintou were true, then a tool like that in Han’s control… The psychological manipulation Han could wield on a boy so young and impressionable… Dallan shuddered. The weapon Han would create…that was a terrifying thought.

  Dallan scratched at his chin. Had Teya told the truth about the boy when he’d asked? She had seemed uncomfortable at the time but he’d put it down to her intention of killing him on Han’s command. And, as Ying said, the boy’s powers wouldn’t show until puberty, so Teya wouldn’t know if her brother was xintou, anyway.

  He shook himself. Nothing to be done about it now. He needed to get them all safely through this mess.

  He stopped with one hand on the kitchen door handle, listening. Inside a din of raised voices and the clanking of metal attested to a kitchen overwhelmed by the day’s demands. He cracked the door and slipped inside.

  The smell of roasting lu-deer mingled with the salty odour of dumplings an
d the sweetness of something with redberries teased him. His mouth watered and his stomach rumbled, reminding him of a dinner and breakfast missed.

  The massive kitchen was brightly-lit with electric bulbs, clouded by smoke and steam high above. Three huge brick ovens were set in the northern wall, their heat shielded with what must be some sort of nickel-based heat-resistant alloy doors. No expense spared for the Jun First’s country house. A red-faced, sweat-slicked woman wrenched a door open and used a long-handled implement to remove a loaf of bread.

  She transferred it to a bench and yelled a command at a harried-looking teenage boy who grabbed at the loaf. He snatched his hand away, howling. Five people left their stations to cluster about the boy, offering advice, cold water and sympathy.

  Dallan seized the moment. He edged around the wall, ducking to avoid copper pans hanging low, and aimed for a door set in the southern wall. On his way past a bench, he stole a slender boning knife to replace his lost dagger. As an afterthought, he speared a slab of roast lu-deer.

  The door opened under his touch and he edged through unhindered. Once inside, he paused, shoved the meat into his mouth and swallowed in a hurry. Better than nothing and it tasted delicious.

  A narrow stone hallway, dimlit with two bulbs, drove west inside the walls of the keep. He crept down a shallow flight of stairs and peered around the corner at the end.

  He withdrew. Four guards. Two lounging by the main entrance that lead to the front of the house. Two at a table set close to the cellblock door. How the diyu was he supposed to get inside when Han must have warned his staff to watch out after last time?

  He gripped the hilt of his steel sword, and the boning knife. He wasn’t a bad fighter, but against four trained weishi? There had to be another way. If he met Teya in the bath house, she could cast an illusion, perhaps. Her practice with Ying had strengthened her gift a little. Surely she could trick three or four minds, now.

  He turned to head for the kitchen.

  A sword lay at his throat. He stilled and slowly raised his hands.

  ‘I was thinking we’d see you here, Shenshi Johnston,’ Gennar Gen-kin said, smiling. ‘Didn’t trust that girl to follow through.’

  Dallan swore.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  TEYA

  The tunnel was darker than Teya had expected. The water faster, hotter and tasting of sulphur. Her eyes stung and she squinted, trying to make out shapes in the gloom.

  She fought the urge to cry out. She splayed her hands and feet against the walls, trying to slow down and feel for exits. A glimpse of watery green light flashed past on her left. And another.

  Her fingers brushed a gap on the left. Was that one or two? Had she missed the exit?

  Her lungs burned. She had to breathe soon. Her heart pounded, using precious oxygen. She tried to detach herself, to calm her thoughts, but panic surged like the water.

  There. On the left, a hole. Brightly lit and large. That had to be it.

  The dark silhouette of a handle. She snatched at it but her weakened right hand couldn’t hold her weight. She flipped over and held tight with her left. Her legs dangled in the flow. Kicking hard, she hauled herself into the side tunnel and pushed for the light.

  Close now. Dallan said this came out inside an open-topped holding tank.

  Her vision blurred. She had to breathe.

  No. She could do this.

  Her outstretched hands hit something hard. A metal grill. Frantically, she felt it from side to side. It stretched across the tunnel’s opening. Beyond and above she could see the shimmering water surface. Air and freedom lay there.

  She reversed her position and braced against the tunnel walls.

  Kick. The sound of her boots on metal reverberated through the water.

  Kick. Nothing. No give. The mesh was secure.

  Kick.

  It had to work. She had to get out. Had to breathe.

  Kick.

  The tunnel darkened. Her chest ached.

  Against her will, Teya opened her mouth.

  #

  TEYA

  ‘Teya!’

  Someone shouted her name from a long way off. Her bed was cold and hard. She was freezing, bone-deep, every muscle. She lay on her stomach. Her shoulder hurt. Someone shouted her name again. Said something else, too, but the words were muffled. Something heavy pounded on her chest. Why couldn’t she breathe?

  She coughed and water sprayed from her nose. Weight on her back again and more water bubbled from between her lips. She managed to gulp air and coughed out more water. Coughed until knives stabbed her chest and she could barely see through tears. Then she vomited yet more water onto the stone floor.

  Someone helped her sit up and brushed sodden hair from her bleary eyes and water from her mouth.

  Dallan’s face swam into view. With a shaky hand, she touched the purpling bruise on his jaw.

  ‘Wh…what happened?’ she whispered, coughing again. The smell of piss and sweat registered and she gagged. Every breath hurt. ‘Where are we?’

  He sighed. ‘In the prison cells under the Chinshi. We failed. I’m sorry, Tey. They caught both of us.’ He glanced over his shoulder. ‘And Perrin’s not in here with us, either.’

  Teya scrubbed snot and water from her cheeks and slumped against the thick bronze prison cell bars. Only then did the sheer number of people in the space register. She curled into a ball, shivering. Her clothes were soaked, her strength gone. A spreading darkness stained the shirt red over her shoulder.

  Dallan settled beside her, his arm warm against hers. ‘What happened?’

  She coughed again, dragging painful breaths. ‘Metal grill over…the tunnel exit. I couldn’t kick it in. Then I blacked out.’ More coughing but at least breathing was getting easier.

  ‘That’s new. Gouri.’ He groaned. ‘I’m a complete shazi.’

  ‘How did I get here?’ She surveyed the other inmates. There was hardly enough room for everyone to sit and several stood, slumped against the walls, faces blank and hopeless. Most were teenagers or in their early twenties. Three children as young as five or six huddled together in one corner.

  ‘Who are all these people?’ she whispered.

  ‘Mostly youngsters caught out after curfew. Waiting for their parents to pay ransom, if they can.’ Dallan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘A bath house servant brought you in. Heard you making a noise and dragged you out. They’re holding you here until the hunli and consummation hour are over. Then we’ll both be brought before Han and Jenna.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Because the weishi were going to send you to the slavers until I told them you were Helva Connor’s daughter. They don’t believe me, but they’re not willing to take the chance I might be right.’

  ‘Oh, gouri. What a mess. Ying?’

  ‘Haven’t been able to reach her. We agreed she would get in touch with me ten minutes after the bells rang. It’s too early, so either she’s not listening for me, or she’s been removed from the hall and sent home. No way of knowing.’

  Overhead, muffled by the thick stone walls, the house bells clamoured joyously. The hunli ceremony was over.

  Han was consort to the Jun First.

  How long would he wait before killing Jenna and taking the throne for himself? Teya buried her face in her hands.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  DALLAN

  Dallan cocked an ear. ‘Now there’s an hour before Han and Jenna receive people into the audience chamber and hear their pleas. And ours. Ten minutes before Ying contacts me.’

  ‘What good will that do?’ Teya muttered. ‘She’s a kid surrounded by adults. Neri won’t let her out of her sight, now. And definitely won’t listen to her.’

  He rested his head on the bars. She was right. How the diyu had he gone so wrong? He’d been mad to think he could do this on his own, with only a fifteen-year-old girl for help. Overthrowing a tyrant needed the support of thousands of people and all the juns. One person—or even t
wo—couldn’t make a difference. Neri had been right. He was naïve.

  He wiped at his face.

  Beside him, Teya sat in gloomy silence, her attention fixed on her hands, clasped loosely in her lap.

  ‘So,’ she said, coughing again. ‘In an hour Han is officially Jun First Consort. And Neri will plead for forgiveness for helping you. Will he give it?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Dallan admitted, his hopes sinking. Han was likely to make an example of Neri. To show the other juns what came of trying to work together against his rule.

  Teya eyed him beneath her lashes. ‘What about Ying? Will she be punished?’

  ‘I don’t know. If Shana suspects Ying knows she has turned against Xintou House, then I don’t like Ying’s chances.’

  ‘And Perrin?’ Her throat worked. ‘What will he do to Perrin?’

  ‘Gouri!’ Dallan stood, holding the bars so tight his fingertips numbed. ‘I don’t know, alright? What’s so important about Perrin, anyway? Why would Han care about him? Did you lie to me? Is he a male xintou?’

  She paled and lowered her eyes. ‘No, of course not!’

  ‘Then what? Why would Han keep him once he thought I was dead? Why did you believe he wouldn’t release the boy after you fulfilled your part of the bargain and killed me?’

  But she turned away and said nothing.

  Dallan leaned on his forearm and stared through the bars at freedom. ‘I tried, Teya. I tried to get the juns to work together and stop this. I failed.’ He swore. He would never see his hunlinna and son again. There would be no-one to protect them from Gray-Saud’s sick sense vengeance. For no doubt the jun would destroy everything Dallan held dear. That’s the sort of person he was.