Fire and Fantasy: A Limited Edition Collection of Urban and Epic Fantasy

by CK Dawn

  “We need an instrument.” I beckoned him toward the front of the chamber, where I knelt and slid aside a wall panel to reveal a storage room. If he loved music as much as me, wait until he went inside! I invited him in with an open hand.

  His hands barely brushed over my shoulder as he passed, sending a shiver through me. I stood and followed him in, almost running into his back when he skidded to a halt.

  Arms outstretched, blue eyes round with wonder, he spun in a circle, pausing on some of the finest instruments: An antique guzheng zither, said to be worth more than a ship. An array of knobbed bronze bells, played only on New Year’s Day.

  And finally, a pipa, believed to have been given to Yanyan by her lover, the elf angel Aralas, resting on a cloth-covered pedestal. Its sound plate glittered in gold, while the strings caught the light like a spider web at dawn. The smooth resonator, supposedly made of a dragon’s eggshell, swirled with color.

  “What a beautiful lute!” Hardeep strode over and reverently picked Yanyan’s pipa up in two hands. If only my potential suitors had even a fraction of his interest in music! No, they were more interested in talking about themselves. He presented the instrument with an encouraging nod.

  I hesitated. Only designated people were allowed to touch any of the artifacts. Then again, I hadn’t stopped him, either. Bowing my head, I received the pipa in two hands.

  And almost dropped it. It seemed alive in my hands, pulsing ever so subtly, as if it had a heart, beating in harmony with mine. As if it belonged to me. I started to return it to its stand.

  It felt like leaving behind a long-lost friend. I looked up to see Hardeep disappearing into the performance hall. Pulse racing, I cradled the pipa against my chest and followed.

  When I reached the door, he was scooting a bloodwood chair, carved with nightingale patterns, to the most ideal spot in the chamber for playing. He set the music book on it and gestured for me to sit, then walked across the chamber. Though the location wasn’t marked on the white marble floors, he stopped where Father might relax—the most ideal spot for listening. Pressing his hands together, he bowed his head. “Please play.”

  I looked at the instrument in my hands, then up at him. Of all the pipas, he had chosen this one. “Do you know the significance of this lute?”

  He shrugged. “It drew my eye. It was the most beautiful in the storeroom.”

  “Yanyan used it during the War of Ancient Gods.”

  His mouth formed a perfect circle. “Then you must play it.”

  I studied the pipa. I might be a talented musician, but… “No human in living memory has coaxed a sound out of it.” Hushed rumors spoke of the elf lord Xu playing it for Father twenty-nine years ago; other than that, the last masters to play it lived almost three centuries before, and had all died under bizarre circumstances.

  Tapping his chin, he regarded me. “You won’t know unless you try.”

  My head spun. If I succeeded where even the best musicians in the realm had failed, it would prove the worth of music. My worth. Then again, if the pipa didn’t respond, it would only confirm what Eldest Brother Kai-Guo and the other lords believed: my only value was that as a bride to General Lu. Even worse, Prince Hardeep would think less of me. I met his gaze again.

  His kind eyes encouraged me on.

  Yes. I could do this. Had to do it, even if it was just to prove to myself I could. I scanned the music book, memorizing the complex changes. Settling on the edge of the chair, I took a deep breath and plucked out the first note. A beautiful sound emanated from the resonator.

  My heart jolted and I nearly dropped the pipa in surprise. It couldn’t be. It had to be my imagination. I looked up to Hardeep.

  Beaming, he nodded me on.

  Could it be? I strummed a chord, emitting a wondrous sound. There was no mistake. Heavens, I had done it! Something no human had accomplished in over two centuries!

  Plucking each string, pressing each fret, the music came out inspired. The joyous soul of the song bounded off the page, swirling in seemingly tangible currents.

  “Each note raises my spirit higher,” he said, yet his own tone was flat. “Maybe do what the book suggested. Adjust yourself in the chair? I think if you straightened your spine, feet more flat on the ground, it would sound even better.”

  Such strange advice, sounding more like my doctor’s counsel than anything my music teachers would ever say. Still, it couldn’t hurt. I shifted in the chair and plucked out the tune. Its vibration echoed in my arms.

  “One shoulder is higher than the other,” he offered.

  Adjusting my posture, I continued, and the pulsations merged into my core. With a slight tilt of my waist, they sank to my pelvis, awakening a flare of warmth there. After tucking my tailbone forward, the vibrations reached my legs as well. I looked up again.

  Prince Hardeep’s expression brightened from his luminous blue irises. He placed a hand over his breast. “Yes! More emotion!”

  I closed my eyes and strummed. My spirit soared to a place only music could take me. Even though I was plain-looking, music made me feel beautiful. And now, playing for this audience of one…my beauty might rival Guanyin, Goddess of Fertility, in her glorious splendor.

  My entire body tingled, from fingertips to toes. My pulse quickened, roaring loud and torrential in my ears. My insides felt like ten thousand fish squirming over each other in a shallow pool. An immense source of energy lay just beyond my reach, like an ocean of power trickling through a pinprick in a wall. There, ready to tap into.

  Then my fingers went slack on the pipa and the blood rushed from my head. A dark tunnel in my field of vision narrowed. All went black.

  Four

  Honor In Question

  Metal tinkled and chimed as my head bobbled in the darkness. Cold seeped into my back, yet warmth cradled my head. The uncomfortable twisting in my stomach seemed to climb higher, almost into my chest. The black in my field of vision faded to a dark orange.

  Heat surged through me. My eyes fluttered open. Above me, the blurry coffered tile ceiling came into focus as I blinked.

  Luminous blue irises encroached into my field of vision. Prince Hardeep’s tight lips softened into a smile, the air gushing out in a long sigh. “Thank the gods.”

  The warmth around my head…the way his face hovered above mine…I must be lying in his lap. My belly twisted into tangles worse than my hair on a bad morning. Heavens, how embarrassing. And if someone saw us like this, Prince Hardeep might be executed on the spot. I brought my elbows up under me, trying to sit up.

  “Slowly now.” He placed a hot hand on my forehead.

  I looked around. Still in the main chamber of the concert hall. Alone. With him. My heart fluttered. “What happened?”

  “You fainted.”

  Heat flared in my cheeks. My body just would choose such an inopportune moment to faint for the first time ever. How mortifying. “For how long?”

  “Only a minute.”

  Thank the Heavens, there—

  He pointed to Yanyan’s pipa, lying on the marble floor just out of arm’s reach.

  “Oh no.” I covered my gaping mouth. I’d dropped it. Dropped a priceless antique, a treasure of my people. I scuttled across the floor and picked it up. Fingers trembling, I ran my hand across the smooth surface of the back. Thank the Heavens, it seemed undamaged.

  Hardeep shuffled over on his knees and eased it from my stiff fingers. “Don’t worry. The legends claim it survived mighty Avarax’s wrath. I doubt such a short drop would do anything to it.”

  Hopefully. Then again, I should’ve never touched it in the first place. Never been in this room in the first place. Never been alone with a man, a foreign man. If anyone found out, Father might marry me off to the most domineering lout of a lord in the realm, one who would make General Lu seem chivalric. No telling what he’d do to Hardeep. Perspiration threatened to seep through the make-up on my forehead.

  Setting the pipa on the chair, he clasped my hand. �
�It’s fine. Trust me.” His other hand reached behind my neck, and he leaned in.

  Heat surged through me. Heavens, he was close. And it felt so right. His eyes were so kind. And he knew music. Of course he was right. The pipa was fine, and as long as nobody walked in—

  “Unhand the princess!” Chen Xin shouted from the door.

  Heavens, no! Our compromising position would give rise to rumors faster than weeds sprouting after a spring rain. I glanced over Hardeep’s shoulder. Outside the door, the Appointments Ministry secretary looked as if he would faint. Chen Xin and Zhao Yue pushed past him and charged in, blue robes swishing and curved dao swords rasping from their scabbards in deadly arcs. The dragons etched into their burnished breastplates appeared to move with a life of their own—their magic, imbued by master craftsmen, would strike poor Prince Hardeep with shock and awe. Even if he had a weapon, he wouldn’t stand a chance against that magic, let alone against two of the best swordsmen in the realm.

  I had to save him. Pulling his hands for leverage, I staggered to my feet and moved to interpose myself between the deadly blades and my prince.

  He resisted my pull. His single footstep blocked my path and spun me around. So clumsy on his part; the guards would certainly slay him on the spot. With my feet crossed, it took all my balance to keep from falling.

  The imperial guards closed the gap in the blink of an eye, weapons flashing in a synchronous dance of death. Hardeep released my hand and leaped forward into the storm of blades. I could only stare in horror.

  Or amazement.

  If he were a poet, his graceful movement would have been his poetry. He dodged Chen Xin’s thrust and ducked Zhao Yue’s hack, twirling and spinning like a ribbon dancer. In a split second, he had positioned himself so that Chen Xin stood between him and Zhao Yue.

  At that moment, he turned his head and winked at me. His blue eyes glittered. Could he possibly be enjoying himself? When one misstep would mean decapitation? My chest constricted, seizing my breath.

  Chen Xin attacked with a horizontal slash, shredding through Hardeep’s sleeve and cutting across his arm. No! I covered my mouth. Chen Xin followed with a downward chop, but Hardeep stepped inside and caught Chen Xin’s hands. With a deft twist, he wrenched the dao away. Undaunted, Chen Xin drew a dagger while Zhao Yue slipped between them.

  “Stop!” I shook off my dread fascination. If I didn’t do something, someone would get seriously hurt. And unbelievably, from the look of it, it wouldn’t be Prince Hardeep. He had taken on not one, but two imperial guards and suffered only a cut. His shorn sleeve didn’t even show signs of blood. I spoke again, invoking a tone of authority practiced since childhood. “Chen Xin, Zhao Yue, disengage. That is my command.”

  Zhao Yue held his sword in a defensive position as he took two steps back.

  Lowering his dagger, Chen Xin cast a sidelong glance at me. “Your Highness, are you all right? This man did not try anything inappropriate?”

  Heat rose to my cheeks. We’d done many inappropriate things that afternoon, though probably not along the lines of Chen Xin’s question. I shook my head. “No, Prince Hardeep has been a perfect gentleman. He just asked me to play a piece of music for him.” Straightening my carriage, I strode over to the prince and held up his wounded arm. “Are you all right?”

  Lines formed across his forehead as he looked first at it, then at me. “Yes. It looks like my shirt is the only casualty.”

  I parted the tear. No blood at all on the smooth skin over his toned muscle. I dropped his arm and covered my gawp with a hand. “How?”

  Prince Hardeep smiled at me, sending my stomach into somersaults, then turned to my guards. With a bow of his head, he presented Chen Xin’s dao in two hands.

  Lips pursed, Chen Xin retrieved his weapon, his eyes locked on the alterations he’d made to Hardeep’s sleeve. He sank to his knee and bowed his head. “Your Highness, we have failed you. If it is your command, we will take our lives.”

  Zhao Yue followed suit, raising his sword above his head.

  Such resolve and dedication! I shook my head. “This is just a misunderstanding. Wait at the door.”

  Bowing their heads, they said in unison, “As the princess commands.”

  Legs shaking, I scooped up the pipa and traipsed across the floor with Hardeep just a step behind. Hopefully, the guards would not object to me being alone in the storage room with him.

  I returned the pipa to its honored place and turned to face him. “I have watched the imperial guards spar, and never before has anyone else come close to defeating even one of them. You fight faster than anyone I have ever seen. How did you do that?”

  “Princess Kaiya, your imperial guards might be the most skilled swordsmen in Cathay, but—” He stared out the door into space “—there is a whole world beyond your Great Wall. Wonders beyond your imagination.”

  And the promise of a world beyond marriage to a suitable lord. And such an elusive answer. “Are you saying there are others who can fight like you?”

  “I am embarrassed to say…” He shifted his gaze to the floor.

  “Please.”

  Eyes still cast downward, he sucked in a voluminous breath. “Well…I started training as a Paladin.”

  Prince Hardeep was full of surprises. I fought to keep my jaw from freefalling to the ground. The Order of Paladins, defenders of the Ayuri South, sought out children who showed the potential to manifest magic through their fighting arts. Their martial skill bordered on legendary, but to hear about it secondhand paled compared to witnessing it just now.

  And supposedly, they could plant suggestions into people’s minds. Had he done that to my guards?

  Had he done that to me?

  Maybe all these feelings were the result of his powers. A pit threatened to form in my gut. No, he had only… “Started?”

  He sighed. “Yes. Unfortunately, Madura’s aggression cut my studies short. I had to return to Ankira, to lead the defense of my homeland.” His eyes searched mine. “I failed Ankira then, just as now, when I could not convince your people to end their trade agreement with Madura.”

  It couldn’t end this way. I shook my head. Such a selfless, noble man couldn’t go home unsuccessful. Not if I had means of helping him. It seemed all the more possible now that I had tapped into the magic of music. My hand strayed to Tian’s pebble. If a Dragon Song was the only way to convince Father and the lords to do the right thing, so be it. “I will do my best to help you. I will practice more.”

  A sad smile formed on his face. He pressed his palms together and bowed. “I thank you. Ankira thanks you.” He raised his head and his expression brightened. “I have an idea, one that your father might approve of. I want to show you something.”

  “What?” I squeezed my sweaty palms together.

  “The fabled Dragon Scale Lute. It can supposedly rout an army.”

  I gasped. A handful of musical instruments appeared in ancient tales, and only Yanyan’s pipa was the only one known to have survived. I’d never even heard of the Dragon Scale Lute. “How did you—”

  “Can you meet me outside the palace tonight? At the first waxing gibbous.”

  My heart lurched. I would need a good excuse to convince the Minister of Household Affairs to let me leave at night. Especially with the reception, and the announcement of my betrothal. And once the archive scholars, steward, secretary, or imperial guards reported my day’s highly irregular activities, perhaps General Lu would reject me. Not a bad prospect in itself, but then I might not be let out of the palace until my hair faded to grey.

  With a grin, he brought his fingers to my chin and closed my gaping mouth. “Young Lord Peng has Ankira’s best interests at heart. I will ask him to arrange something.”

  I could only nod in a slow bob of my head. Cousin Kai-Long might be Father’s favorite nephew, but even he couldn’t convince the Emperor to leave me unpunished…let alone to allow me out of the palace to meet a man. A foreign man. Not with my virtue at stake b
efore an important marriage.

  He pointed to the book, forgotten near the chair back in the room. “Please keep practicing your music. I hope to hear you again. Maybe as soon as tonight.”

  Back in the main hall, several booted feet clickety-clacked across the marble floors in rhythmic clops. I peeked out from behind the corner. At the entrance, the steward, secretary, and my own imperial guards bowed as two dozen imperial guards marched past them in formation. The Minister of Appointments himself shuffled at their head. A small man in both stature and attitude, Minister Hu was arrogant if nothing else. If his smirk was any indication, the consequences of the day’s adventures would not be pleasant. My stomach churned.

  A warm hand grasped my shoulder and pulled me around. Prince Hardeep grinned. “Wait here while I talk to them.”

  I shook my head. They might not care what a sixteen-year-old girl, princess or not, would say, but I could influence them far better than a foreigner could.

  The minister pushed past and walked into the hall. He jabbed a finger at the prince. “There he is!”

  The imperial guards surged past the minster and surrounded him.

  Prince Hardeep held his hands up, still smiling. “This is my fault. I took advantage of your princess’ naïveté.”

  Naïveté! My stomach twisted into a knot. Had all his charm just been an act?

  He turned back and winked at me, sending my pulse into a flutter.

  Then, the imperial guards grabbed him and thrust him to the ground. If they suspected he’d done anything inappropriate, they’d take his head.

  Five

  Interventions

  My silk shoes scuffed on the Hall of Pure Melody’s marble steps as I hurried down. The imperial guards’ and Household Ministry secretary’s robes swished behind me. In the vast central plaza formed by the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the imperial archives and the Hall of Pure Melody, a contingent of imperial guards surrounded Prince Hardeep.

  All weapons remained sheathed, thank the Heavens. The prince might have survived two of the realm’s best swordsmen with only a shorn sleeve, but two dozen was another matter. For now, his hands rested on his head in surrender.