by eden Hudson
Watching her sister manifest a variety of blades, commanding her Ro as easily as breathing, some faraway part of Koida’s stunned mind wondered how Shingti had felt being as powerless for a few moments as she was every day.
“Rong Rong,” the emperor snapped at a dumbfounded official, “prepare the day chamber for a closeted meeting with the Ji Yu chieftain. First Princess, attend me.”
Shingti bowed. “Yes, Exalted Emperor.”
As Emperor Hao, Shingti, and the envoy turned to leave the throne room, the young chieftain looked back. His cold green eyes caught Koida’s, freezing her blood as cleanly as his palm strikes had done to the guards’ armor.
She shivered.
The doors closed behind them, and the rest of the courtiers scattered to spread the gossip of this day far and wide.
“Much luck, cousin,” Yoichi said, coming to her side.
Koida looked her question at him.
“Nothing seals an alliance as effectively as a bride,” he explained, “and there’s no bride as handy as a second princess.”
Chapter Eleven
PRESENT
Though it was hardly evening, Koida slipped out of the palace and down to the stables. She was still in her court robes and could not go riding without attracting every eye in the valley, but she couldn’t stand to go back to her residence and stew. Her hands shook, and her stomach trembled with every breath. The scene in the throne room played over and over in her mind, the moments when Shingti or her father could have been murdered while she looked on, helpless.
In his repaired stall, Pernicious tried to bite and kick and trample her like always. The familiarity of the demonic warhorse’s friendly malice calmed her shaking. Koida battled him for a while, then fed him a handful of candied blood oranges and set to currying his thick black coat and brushing out his inky mane, tail, and fetlocks. From time to time, she pressed her face into the brute’s side, breathing in his musky brimstone stench and unnatural heat.
Full darkness had fallen outside by the time she finished the impromptu grooming. She was about to begin the ritual struggle to climb onto the back of the half-demon when a slender form filled the stall doorway.
“Little sister will never pass for an inji in those robes,” Shingti said, leaning against the wooden planking. “The stealth warriors are shadows in the night, not beacons of silk and jewels.”
Koida turned halfway to face her sister. Full-facing would be less rude, but turning her back completely on Pernicious was as likely as not to get her killed.
“Elder sister is finished with the negotiations?” Koida was trying to sound caustically sweet like Shingti, but her anxiety came through instead. “What was the result?”
“In negotiation, their chieftain shows the inexperience of his youth,” Shingti said, though she and the young Ji Yu leader were likely the same age. “He only requested one thing in return for allying the Ji Yu with the empire and contributing the required number of warrior artists to the armies of the Shyong San.”
Koida’s heart sank, but she couldn’t keep herself from asking. “What was it?”
“He wants you as his wife.”
Koida fell back against Pernicious’s wide chest. The beast held his ground, supporting her easily—and shockingly, without attack.
Finally, she nodded. “Cousin Yoichi said it would be so.”
Shingti cursed, then came over and hugged her. “When he asked for a princess, I offered myself, but Father refused. He said a second princess was good enough for a man who wouldn’t even meet him on the battlefield.”
Suddenly, Shingti’s eyes flew open wide. She held Koida at arm’s length.
“A thousand apologies,” she said, giving a sincerely remorseful bow. “Your idiot sister did not mean to speak so offensively of you, treasured sibling.”
“No apologies required,” Koida replied. Her emotions were wrung too dry to feel pain at her father’s slight. “They were Father’s words, not elder sister’s. What else happened?”
“Father told Ji Yu Raijin that in seven years, if he and his tribe had proven their worth in battle, he could choose a second wife from the court.”
Desperate hope glimmered like a guttering coal in Koida’s breast.
“I might see someone I know in seven years, then,” she said.
Shingti shook her head. “Ji Yu Raijin said that men in his tribe only take one wife, and that you were more than acceptable.”
“Good. I hate all those silly noblewomen anyway.” A tremor in Koida’s voice undermined her blustering, and the vehemence quickly ran out. She swallowed hard. “When?”
For a long moment, Shingti stared at the half-demon warhorse looming in the stall with them. Koida was sure that she saw her sister longing to suggest that she leap on Pernicious’s back and never stop riding. It was certainly what Koida felt like doing. In the end, however, they both knew this was the only filial responsibility the Ro-crippled princess could fulfill. She wasn’t a warrior. She couldn’t ride into battle or command her father’s armies like her sister did. But an alliance bride, Koida could be.
“The wedding rites begin tomorrow,” Shingti said. “He agreed to the customary week of feasts. There are tribal wedding traditions he wishes to observe as well, but he said they won’t interfere with ours.”
“Oh,” Koida said because she could not think of anything else to say.
Pernicious stamped his feet and whickered with his usual bad temper. Absently, Koida turned, reopening her stance so that she could keep one eye on the half-demon.
“There are no nightcaller floors in the guest apartments,” Shingti said. She balled her fists at her sides as if to restrain herself from manifesting Dual Swords. “I doubt Father would mourn the Ji Yu chieftain’s death.”
Koida’s heart beat cold at the thought of her sister alone and at the young leader’s mercy.
“No,” she said, stroking Pernicious’s shaggy black fur. “You’ve always protected me, elder sister. You’ve looked out for my best interests and the interests of the empire. For once, I can do the same in your place.”
Chapter Twelve
PRESENT
That night, after Shingti returned to the palace and Koida rode out, the second princess caught sight of a strange shape in the sky. It reminded Koida of a river ray, with graceful rounded curves and a long, thin tail trailing behind like a stinger. The creature soared through the air as if it were swimming, diving in and out of the clouds. She thought she detected a halo of silvery Ro shining around its edges, but repeated flashes of heat lightning kept her from getting a clear look.
She turned Pernicious away from the city and the forest beyond. Likely every hunter in Boking Iri had spotted the creature as well and would be out that night trying to take down one of the last few demons in the valley for its hide and core stone.
Instead, the second princess and the warhorse went north along the palace side of the river until they came to the wide pool at the roaring base of the Horns, the twin waterfalls that gave the river its name. The area was as deserted as Koida’s favorite overlook, but without the height Pernicious hated so much. She dismounted, and the two of them splashed into the churning water, swimming when they could no longer touch bottom.
Though she knew it was dangerous, Koida swam out to the waterfall. Icy spring water poured down on her like a rockslide, battering her down into the pool and forcing her head under several times.
Pernicious’s scream cut through the constant rumble of the falling water, and she heard his teeth clack together just behind her. He had tried to bite her and pull her back.
“I’m not trying to commit suicide,” she yelled to the beast between mouthfuls of water, though she wasn’t sure how true it was. “I just want to see what’s back here. Go back to shore if you’re scared.”
She ducked under the surface, thinking it would be easier without the deluge pounding the top of her head. It was less painful, certainly, but the crush of the falling water tried to fo
rce her to the bottom and hold her there. Her court robes were no help, tangling around her feet and weighing her down. She struggled out of them, her lungs burning for oxygen, then kicked away from the sandy floor at an angle, hoping she was pointing away from the waterfall and not back into it.
Heartbeats later, the hammering of the water stopped, and she found herself in a lazy pool just behind the waterfall. A cave had been carved out back there, its ceiling populated by winking blue, violet, and magenta stars.
She pulled herself up on the gritty floor of the cave and lay back, looking up at the multicolored lights. Wool worms, making cocoons for their transformation to silk moths. She shivered. Not only because the silk moths were said to be spirits of loved ones returned from the afterlife, but because her thin, wet underclothes were no protection against the chill of the late fall air.
A chastising equine scream echoed off the stone walls of the shallow cave, making every light disappear at once.
Koida sat up. Pernicious had swum under the waterfall to join her.
“That was dangerous,” she scolded. “And you scared the wool worms. Keep your voice down and maybe they’ll return.”
Pernicious grumbled low in his throat, pawing and kicking and thrashing until he pulled himself up out of the water and joined her on the cave floor. With another angry grumble, the beast shook his huge body violently, shedding water in every direction. Koida covered her face until he was finished. Satisfied, he folded his legs and lay down behind her, activating his Burning Heartcenter ability with a flash of Ro. Fire lit the warhorse from within, showing his every vein, organ, and bone through his skin and making steam rise from his rapidly drying coat. Koida leaned back against her friend, thankful for his added body heat.
After a while, the wool worm stars winked back on. As they watched the lights blink and shift, Koida wondered if there were places this enchanting where her future husband came from or if this would be the last time she saw something so beautiful. The question kept her from dozing off, though Pernicious had no such problem.
When the waterfall began to glow with the gray lights of dawn, the half-demon and the second princess plunged back into the icy pool and swam out of the hidden cave together. Angry gray storm clouds were gathering overhead.
They splashed out of the churning water and dripped all the way back to the Sun Palace. As they raced inside the walls, thunder rolled and the sky opened up, pouring down rain like the waterfall.
Rather than return to the stables, however, Koida directed Pernicious around the palace and beneath the guest apartments, then dismounted. The half-demon whickered softly at her and shook rainwater from his mane, then trundled off in the direction of his warm, dry stall.
Though each room along this wall was equipped with windows, only the grandest had its own balcony. It only made sense that the Ji Yu leader would be closeted there.
Climbing the palace wall here was much easier even in the rain, as the stonework had been maintained to a much less exacting degree than that surrounding the royal apartments. Within a few minutes’ time, Koida stood on the balcony, sliding open the door.
The inner chamber was dark, the brazier down to nothing more than glimmering embers and the storm-dampened light of the approaching dawn too hazy to fight back the shadows. It was much smaller than her bedchamber, and furnished with little more than a bed, wash screen, and wardrobe.
Though Shingti had told her there were no nightcaller floors in the guest apartments, Koida couldn’t help but test the fixed wood floor with the toe of one boot. It didn’t make a sound.
Reassured, she ghosted forward, her damp boots squishing softly toward the bed. She couldn’t see the sleeping occupant, only a pool of black shadow like the yawning mouth of some unknown underworld ready to receive the dead.
The memory of the ease with which the Ji Yu barbarian had defeated her sister and the royal guards froze her where she stood.
This was beyond foolish. Any number of disgraces could ruin her and dishonor her family if she were discovered sneaking into the room of the empire’s newest ally like an inji assassin, the least of which would be the breaking of an alliance her father had given his word to. She should slip back out by way of the balcony now.
“What are you doing here?” a baritone voice rasped behind her.
Koida spun to find a tall, lean form silhouetted against the stormy gray light. Her heart battered against the wall of her chest as if it were trying to fight its way free.
Should she attempt to manifest a bo-shan stick? No, that was stupid. If Shingti and the full royal guard couldn’t best the Ji Yu chieftain with all the bladed weapons at their disposal, then Koida didn’t stand a chance with nothing but a silly stick. In any case, she could barely summon the focus to manifest a bo-shan at the best of times. She would never be able to command her Ro while standing face-to-face with this deadly adder.
“Did you come to kill me?” he asked, genuine curiosity in his gravelly voice.
It was his strange speech tone that Koida’s mind finally seized on, the strange combination of the familiar inflections of a lover and the guarded undercurrent of an enemy.
“You have no right to speak to me as an equal, Chieftain,” she said, attempting to project the authority of her station rather than her fear. She swallowed hard and pulled herself up to full height, still a head shorter than he. “I outrank you by several degrees.”
For a thin moment, his head cocked as if he didn’t understand what she meant. Then he nodded.
“A thousand apologies,” he said, switching to the formal tone of a commoner addressing a royal. “Has the princess lowered herself to visiting the chambers of a mere chieftain in order to kill him?”
She clasped her hands together to still their shaking.
“No, I have come to suggest you make a different demand on the Exalted Emperor.”
“And set aside the marriage to the princess?”
“Second princess,” Koida corrected. “You couldn’t have known that your demand was unwise, and I doubt my father felt compelled to share the truth with you.” In fact, she was certain her father would find it hilarious that the man didn’t know he had asked to buy the stable’s only lame horse. “I’m Ro-crippled. Any heir I produce will taint your line and tribe, either by carrying the deficiency or by being cripples themselves.”
The young chieftain was silent for several seconds. When he finally did speak, he chose his words as carefully as if he were picking his way barefoot across a bridge of swords.
“I won’t go back on my word,” he said.
“Even to the point of disgracing your bloodline?” Koida asked, desperation leaking into her voice. “That’s madness.”
In a heartbeat, the Ji Yu chieftain closed the distance between them. Koida stumbled backward a step, hands raised in First Defense Position to fend off his attack. Her back pressed against a tapestry covering unyielding stone. She was trapped.
But the young leader only edged between her and the foot of the bed, stalking deeper into the shadows and opening the door to the outer chamber. An angular bar of firelight fell across his features, showing Koida that his hair and clothing were as wet as her own. What had he been doing out in the rain in the earliest hours of the morning?
“Will the princess take her leave by the door or the balcony?” he asked, bowing respectfully to her.
Trembling, Koida slipped past him. The outer chamber was thankfully empty. She let herself out into the corridor, picking up speed with every shaky step as she left that adder’s lair behind.
Chapter Thirteen
7 YEARS AGO
Raijin waited in anticipation with Yong Lei and the small group of combat students in the snow-blown school courtyard. The best friends had been the youngest students in a century to advance to Sleet, and now, at just fifteen years old, both were on the verge of advancing to Hail. After much discussion, the grandmaster had finally agreed to allow them to join the combat class with the older students of
the same rank. Raijin and Yong Lei were the only ones under thirty, but their youth was taken as a sign of great things. To reach such an advanced stage so young must mean that one of them was the true chosen one.
Master of Training Palgwe swept out of the school’s portico, his robes parting the snow behind him. He glared at the newest additions to the class.
“Attention.”
The boys and the older students all dropped into the attention position, backs straight, fists in front of belt, eyes straight ahead.
“I argued against adding children to the combat training,” he said. “What we do here can easily be misconstrued as condoning violence against another. Far from it. To steal Ro by fighting and killing is a coward’s path, the lashing out of a toddler demanding a shiny toy he has no right to.” He turned on his heel and paced away. “However, there will be times in your path when an aggressor will refuse to be deterred. Student Raijin, tell me when it is permissible to enter combat.”
“To protect someone weaker than yourself or weaker than the aggressor, Master Palgwe,” he answered.
“Student Yong Lei, what methods should one attempt first?”
“Everything possible, Master Palgwe,” Yong Lei responded. “Reasoning, calming, distracting, befriending, and bribery.”
Palgwe stopped pacing and turned to face Yong Lei, one dark brow raised.
“Bribery?”
Yong Lei grinned. “If you’ve got the money, Master.”
Raijin bit back a laugh, but a few of the older students chuckled outright.
“This is no joke,” Master Palgwe snapped, glaring from one boy to the other. “This class teaches the art of pitting one’s skill against another’s in a fight to destruction or death. What you learn here must be your last resort if you are to remain on the Path of Darkening Skies. Once you have deviated by lifting a hand in malice, greed, or revenge, your Ro will be forever tainted. There is no return from that.”
