by Cindy Lin
Dedication
TO MY SISTER, WENDY—
FOR LISTENING TO MY STORIES
FROM THE VERY START.
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1: The Pen of Truth
Chapter 2: Escape From Feather Island
Chapter 3: Fighting the Wind
Chapter 4: Younglings of the Lake
Chapter 5: The Shrine of the Twelve
Chapter 6: A Discovery
Chapter 7: The Second Tiger
Chapter 8: An Unexpected Dance
Chapter 9: Venom and Visions
Chapter 10: Butterfly Kingdom
Chapter 11: The Keeper of the Ring
Chapter 12: Gang of Ghosts
Chapter 13: Shadowlands
Chapter 14: The Painted Hollow
Chapter 15: Hunting the Conjurer
Chapter 16: Caravan Raid
Chapter 17: Feast of the Hammer
Chapter 18: The Newest Heirs
Chapter 19: Endangered Tigress
Chapter 20: The Bug Pit
Chapter 21: Hall of the Golden Throne
Chapter 22: The Blue Dragon’s Lair
Chapter 23: Taming the Dragon
Chapter 24: Flight to Mount Jade
Chapter 25: Wrath of the Dragon
Chapter 26: Zodiac Rising
Chapter 27: A New Jewel
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Books by Cindy Lin
Copyright
About the Publisher
To knowingly destroy any one of these artifacts would remove the protection of concealment, resulting in grave consequences for the kingdom. The Twelve Treasures must remain a part of the Warrior Circle, or the power of Mount Jade—and Midaga’s strength—will be lost.
—Council Testament, Eighth Month of the Earth Boar, Second (Fire) Snake Cycle, from Annals of the Warrior Council
Chapter 1
The Pen of Truth
USAGI WINCED AT THE SCREECH of seabirds and hurried along the harbor’s busy waterfront, squinting against the reflection of the morning sun as she followed her target. A crisp spring breeze, sharp with the tang of salt and fishrot, threatened to blow off her headwrap and expose her dark braids. She shifted the pole across her shoulders, empty baskets dangling from either end, and tugged the white kerchief down more securely. While there were girl porters working the docks here in Port Wingbow, they were few and far between, and the last thing she wanted was to call attention to herself.
“To your left, Rabbit Girl,” said a familiar voice, twenty paces back. Most passersby would think that Nezu was just muttering to the other young porter hauling a basketload of packages beside him, but Usagi could hear the Heir to the Rat Warrior loud and clear, thanks to her ability to hear as well as a rabbit. She didn’t dare risk trying to reply to him and her friend Tora, neither of whom shared that particular animal talent. Raising her arm, she scratched her shoulder to show that she’d heard, then veered across the crushed-shell path toward the main pier.
“Tell her the Guards have arrived,” hissed Tora, who was keeping a lookout with her sharp tiger vision. “We’re too late. We’ll have to wait till the harbormaster’s done for the day and his Guard detail goes away.”
“You can tell her yourself,” said Nezu. “Are you forgetting she hears us?”
“I’ve known Usagi a lot longer than you—I know exactly how well she can hear. You’re the one who insisted on a protocol. ‘Everything must go through the head of the mission!’” Tora mimicked. Usagi heard her best friend stroking imaginary fuzz on her upper lip, something the Rat Heir often did when he was pleased, nervous, or deep in thought.
“Stop it, Tiger Girl. I’ve been doing this for a few years now.”
“Doesn’t mean you know everything, Rat Boy.”
“You’re just upset about not wearing the belt, but I’m telling you, it fits me better—and as head of the mission, why shouldn’t I?”
Usagi groaned. In all her thirteen years, she’d never known anyone to squabble as much as this pair. She turned and retraced her steps, pretending to look for something she’d dropped, until she bumped right into them, knocking some of their decoy parcels to the ground. Usagi yelped a false apology, and as they all bent down to collect the scattered packages, she glared at them.
“What’s wrong with you two? We’re close to getting one of the Treasures back, and you’re arguing!”
Looking abashed, Nezu reached up and tugged at the barest wisp of whiskers on his upper lip. It didn’t help them get any longer, but he’d been doing it since he first sprouted peach fuzz, and now it was a habit. “Sorry, Rabbit Girl. You’re right. We’re just on edge after waiting for so long—and now we have to wait some more.” He flashed an apologetic smile, his usual grin dimmed somewhat. At sixteen and the seniormost Warrior Heir on the mission, he was responsible for leading them, and the difficulty they’d had securing their target these last few days was wearing on him.
“If you’d only trusted me the first time I said I saw the harbormaster, we might have gotten to him sooner.” Tora’s amber eyes flamed with indignation. She was a year older than Usagi but wasn’t yet a Warrior Heir. She was hoping to become one by proving herself on this assignment.
Long before Usagi had become the Rabbit Heir, before ever meeting Nezu and the other Warrior Heirs, Tora had been by her side. For years after the Dragonlord’s overthrow of Midaga’s king and the Warriors of the Zodiac, she and Tora had been orphans in the forest. Along with Usagi’s sister, Uma, the three of them had been just trying to survive and keep their zodiac powers hidden. Until—
Until . . .
Usagi pushed the painful thought of her little sister away and handed over a stack of parcels to her friend. “Can the two of you please behave?”
“Of course,” said Tora, baring her sharp white canines. They were snaggleteeth that stuck out from the rest of her smile, making her look extra fierce even when she wasn’t annoyed. When she was truly furious, her tiger teeth would grow till they protruded from her upper lip. Thankfully they were currently in check. An angry youngling sprouting long fangs would draw attention—too much attention on a mission to steal back the Pen of Truth.
One of twelve Treasures that once belonged to the Warriors, the pen was now in the possession of a man who ran the kingdom’s main seaport—and he was using its powers for profit.
“You said you saw the Guard?” Usagi asked Tora. Her stomach clenched at the thought of the armed troops who kept order for the ruler of Midaga. Though she’d bested one in a fight once, it was always better to avoid tangling with the Dragonlord’s men.
Her friend nodded. “Two of them, right as the harbormaster got to the dock.”
“So we wait until he’s alone again. Might as well stick together till then.” Usagi straightened. “My apologies!” she said loudly. “Let me help you.” She made a show of taking some of their bundles—mostly just straw wrapped in squares of cloth—and putting them in her empty baskets. She hoisted her pole over her shoulders, making sure the sword hidden inside was secure. Nezu’s walking stick also hid a blade, as weapons had been forbidden for all but those serving the Dragonlord. Since Tora was not yet an Heir, her pole was just solid wood. She was eager to earn her place as the Tiger Heir, and with it, a hidden weapon of her own.
Together they headed toward the largest pier in port, where the harbormaster’s station was perched. Weaving between rumbling ox carts, they ducked and dodged as bales of wool, cords of exotic woods, bundles of sharkskin leather, and other imports were unloaded from the myriad ships docked along the piers built all throughout the cove. Though they’d been on Fe
ather Island for nearly a week, Usagi was still dazzled by the sight of all the boats. Who knew there could be so many types of vessels to travel across water? There were ships with battened sails that folded like fans, sloops with white canvas billowing from the masts like puffed-out frogs’ throats, flat-keeled boats propelled by paddlewheels, longships that sported rows of oars manned by oarsmen, squat boats with chimneys that belched smoke, armored ships bristling with firecannon.
Before the fall of the Shield of Concealment, the kingdom of Midaga had never seen so many visitors to its shores. It had remained hidden from the rest of the world, safe and protected by the Warriors of the Zodiac, until Druk the Dragon Warrior betrayed his oath to the Circle of the Twelve. He shattered the Shield, allowing invasion and war to devastate the land, and seized the throne as Dragonlord.
Now, seven years into his reign, ships from lands near and far came to Midaga, eager to see and trade with the kingdom that had been but a myth for hundreds of years. The port in the Bantam Islands, once the only part of Midaga that the world was allowed to see, had been expanded by leaps and bounds, per the order of the Dragonlord. A harbor that had received at most four ships a year when the Shield was up now saw many times that each week. And from his spare wooden lean-to on the main pier, the harbormaster ruled over it all.
They drew close and saw the line of ship captains and various agents waiting to report their cargo to the harbormaster. The front of the shanty was wide open, flanked by two armored Guard. They glowered beneath metal helmets that sat on their heads like overturned cookpots. Their burly torsos were shielded by iron breastplates, and their leather- sleeved arms cradled firecannon. At the sight of them, Usagi quailed. It was an old reflex. She forced herself to hold her head up. She was the Heir to the Rabbit Warrior, after all. She’d spent months training and could handle them both if need be!
She spotted the harbormaster’s bulky form and tall official’s hat but was unable to see the Treasure. Fortunately, they had Tora’s tiger vision, just as Usagi’s sharp ears listened for them all. “Is it there?” Usagi whispered.
Tora’s eyes narrowed. “On his desk there’s a pen, in a brush stand beside the cargo registry. It’s bigger than an ordinary ink brush, with a gold handle decorated with the twelve animals of the zodiac. It’s got a gold cap, but he’s taken it off. I see the bristles. They look like ox hair.”
“Ox—the animal embodying truthfulness,” Nezu said. “That’s the Treasure, all right.” They continued farther down the pier until they came to the last ship, which looked nearly deserted, its cargo unloaded, most of its crew likely in one of the port taverns. They set their baskets down. Nezu took his headcloth off and wiped his face, then retied it around his close-cropped hair, taking care to tuck in the long, thin rat-tail braid at the base of his skull. He flashed a smile at Usagi. “How are your rabbit ears from here?”
She tilted her head and squeezed her eyes shut, listening. Out of habit, Usagi reached for the pendant she wore around her neck and rubbed the little silver rabbit with its chips of green jade for eyes. Over the cries of seagulls, the shouts of dockworkers, the splash of seawater against ships and dock pilings, the creak of wooden hulls, the clattering of wheels on cobblestones and planks, Usagi located the gravelly voice of the harbormaster, which she’d come to recognize after several days of surveillance. He was interrogating his latest quarry in the line of ship captains and cargo masters waiting to report to him.
“Name and vessel name?”
“Captain Golae of the Fleet-Finned Whale.”
“Home port?”
“Port Busana in Solonos.”
The harbormaster would always ask about the cargo, and then hand over the Pen of Truth to sign off. That was the part that always made Usagi feel a little sorry for the harbormaster’s prey.
“Oh! Wait! I—I didn’t mean to write that! Th—that’s a mistake!”
“Is it really, Captain? You aren’t trying to skimp on paying your import duties, are you? If I have the Guard go to your ship right now and search it, do you swear on your life we will only find ten bales of cotton for trade instead of fifteen?”
After some threats detailing what could happen to those caught trying to cheat the Dragonlord, the harbormaster would then offer the hapless victim an opportunity to buy his way out of trouble. In this way, Usagi noticed, the harbormaster was becoming a very rich man.
“He’s up to his usual tricks,” she reported. “Just got a Soloni ship captain to hand over five gold mon for lying about his cargo.”
Nezu whistled. “That’s more than some people make in a lifetime.” He peered into the water. “Anyone getting hungry?”
Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he made a little swirling motion with his hands until a small cyclone of water rose from the sea. Knitting his brow, he gestured sharply upward, and the cyclone spat a silvery fish onto the pier, where it flipped and flopped at their feet.
“Mealtime!” Tora exclaimed. She pounced on the wriggling fish and dispatched it with a quick thump against the dock. With his knife, Nezu cleaned the fish, slicing it into neat filets. He portioned it out between the three of them and pulled out fist-sized balls of salted rice wrapped in seaweed.
“It’s too bad none of us have a fire gift,” he remarked. “A little blast of flame would sear this fish nicely.”
Usagi couldn’t help but think of Uma at that moment. Her sister was able to conjure fire with her bare hands and had used her elemental gift to cook whatever they could scavenge, back when they lived with Tora in the forest outside Goldentusk. Now Uma was part of the Dragonlord’s troops, a prized cadet in a corps of younglings with zodiac powers, her fire gift and horse speed to be used by the Dragonlord as tools in maintaining order over all Midagians. Usagi’s rabbit locket felt heavy at her neck, and she rubbed its hollow belly. It contained the charred remains of the wooden rabbit she used to wear—until Uma had burned it in a fury. That was the last time Usagi had seen her sister.
With a sigh, she sat with the others on the edge of the dock, dangling their feet over the swirling seawater. Clumps of kelp drifted on the surface while a pair of black-tailed gulls bobbed alongside, staring up at their meal with hungry yellow eyes. She was about to take a bite of her rice ball when Tora stopped chewing and squinted down the pier.
“There’s the harbormaster’s daughter,” she muttered. Usagi turned and caught a bit of movement as a small figure ducked behind the railing of a docked ship. Since coming to Port Wingbow, they’d seen the girl hanging around the docks—the only youngling who wasn’t a porter, though she might as well have been one, dressed as she was in a ragged tunic and pants, a grimy white kerchief tied over a frizzled braid.
Nezu draped a piece of fish over his rice ball and took a bite. “Are you sure she’s his daughter? Seems like more of a servant to me. He’s always ordering her around.”
“And slapping her if she’s too slow,” said Tora with a frown. They had witnessed the harbormaster boxing the girl about the ears when he wasn’t in his shed extorting payment from ship captains. It had disgusted Usagi—the girl couldn’t have been more than seven or eight and was spindly with large dark eyes that reminded her of Uma.
Usagi got to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?” Tora cocked her head.
Waving a vague hand, Usagi headed for the ship, eyes on where she’d last seen movement. As she drew closer, she heard the growling of an empty stomach—only for once it wasn’t hers. She stopped at the base of the lowered gangplank. “Merciful spirits! What a lot of rice and fish,” Usagi exclaimed. “I can’t eat all of this by myself! What to do?” As a dark head with wide eyes peered out, Usagi smiled. “Oh, hello!” She held up her rice ball. “I’ve got a little too much here. Would you like some?”
The girl hesistated, then nodded. Usagi waved at her to come down, and she crept down the gangplank. Her face was smudged with dirt and soot, and she smelled like she’d been sleeping in a
pile of fishnets. Usagi broke her rice ball in half and gave her most of her raw fish. Shyly, the girl took it, then stuffed everything in her mouth all at once, as if she were afraid Usagi would change her mind. Usagi laughed. “Slow down! You’ll give yourself a bellyache.” She took a bite of her own and then looked at the girl chewing mightily, eyes half-closed in relief. It reminded Usagi so much of Uma that a lump came into her throat. Swallowing hard, she held out the rest of her food. “Here, why don’t you have some more?”
Eyes shining, the little girl took it. She bobbed her head in thanks.
“What’s your name?” asked Usagi, and pointed to herself. “I’m Usagi, born in the year of the Wood Rabbit.”
The girl paused in her chewing and mumbled through a mouthful of rice. “Ji. Year of the Rooster.”
“I knew a boy back home who was born a Metal Rooster,” Usagi said. “Jago was always full of energy, as Roosters often are.” She took care not to mention that little Jago had developed the talent of flying or had been hauled away by Strikers to serve the Dragonlord. She waved a casual hand at the harbormaster’s station. “So, is that your father in there?”
Ji stopped chewing, startled. Slowly, she nodded.
“You know that gold pen of his?” Usagi pressed. “It’s so pretty. Do you know where he got it?”
Shaking her head, Ji backed away, eyes wide.
“No, wait!” Usagi hadn’t meant to alarm her, but the girl turned and ran back up the gangplank, disappearing onto the ship. She’d said too much. Spit and spleen. Usagi stood there a moment, cursing herself, then returned to her friends.
Nezu looked at her curiously. “What were you trying to do there?”
“I remember what it’s like to be hungry,” said Usagi with a sigh. “And I thought maybe she could tell me a little bit about the pen. But she ran away before saying anything.”
“Better to leave her alone,” Nezu advised. “The fewer people we speak to today, the better. We don’t need anyone recognizing us after we’ve lifted the pen.” He polished off the last of his rice ball and licked his fingers. “Spirits. I could’ve eaten five of those.” He tightened the leather belt at his waist. Decorated with silver, wood, and horn fittings, the Belt of Passage was a precious heirloom passed down from warrior to warrior in the Circle of the Twelve. That was, until the war had decimated their ranks and scattered their treasured artifacts around the kingdom. The belt had only recently been recovered, and the other Warrior Heirs had insisted that Nezu wear it on this mission, in case its powers were needed.
