by Cindy Lin
Tora dropped her head. “I’m sorry. I had no idea.”
The girl shrugged and turned her silver gaze to Usagi. “When we saw you flying around on the giant butterfly, we really got worried. Part of the reason our parents sent us here was because of the Tiger Warrior and his Heir.”
“They defended our province so bravely, may their spirits rest,” Puli burst out. The scrawny Ghost gave a savage poke at the campfire with a roasting stick, sending up sparks. “The people of Woodwing will never forget, no matter how hard the Guards try to make them.”
Miru’s eyes grew steely. “Yes. Never forget.” Taking a sip of tea, she continued. “The Tiger Warrior told our families that there was something of great power hidden in the valley, and we’d be safer here. We figured it was the emperor chrysalis—what else could it be? So we couldn’t let you leave Butterfly Kingdom—at least not before we made sure you hadn’t harmed the emperor.”
Exchanging glances with Usagi and the Heirlings, Inu hesitated, then told the Ghosts of their true identities, and what they were trying to do. “We didn’t mean to disturb the butterfly, but we had to get Master Pom’s ring. It must be taken back to the Shrine of the Twelve.”
The Ghosts were astonished. A sacred relic of the Warriors, in their own valley! They spent the rest of the meal asking the four of them questions. As darkness fell, the two groups huddled around the light of the campfire, exchanging stories. The Heirs and Heirlings demonstrated some kicking and striking techniques to help the Ghosts in their next fight.
“Can you imagine if all younglings with powers could join forces?” exclaimed Puli. “We’d never live in fear of the Dragonlord’s men again.”
With a snort, Goru touched his head where the bump had been. “You have Miru, the Ghost with the Good Arm. They ought to be in fear of you.”
Smiling, Miru flexed her arm, and the wings of her butterfly tattoo seemed to flutter. “Any Guard who tangles with this will be sorry.”
They examined the slings and clubs that the Ghosts had used in their attack and dispensed advice on how to defend oneself when their weapons were limited. Usagi showed them some pressure points that could render an opponent immobile, much to Miru’s delight. It was late when they finally collapsed around the campfire, exhausted.
As they slept around the embers of a dying fire, Usagi was awakened by the sounds of thrashing and whimpering. Tora was kicking about in her bedroll. She shook her friend’s shoulder. “Wake up! You’re having a bad dream!”
Tora’s eyes blinked open, and she sat up, breathing hard. Sweaty tendrils of her unruly hair were stuck to her temples. “A vision,” she said, dazed. “I think I had another vision of the future.”
“What was it?” whispered Usagi. The rest of the camp was fast asleep beneath the trees, whose leaves quivered from Goru’s snores.
Tracing the scars on her arm, Tora frowned. “I saw a worker in the Eastern Mines. He was running away with a hammer in his hand. It looked like the Conjurer. I followed him and wound up in a deep canyon of pale marble, where there was a banquet attended by faceless people. Then a lot of people were chasing me.”
Usagi shuddered. “People without faces? What do you think it means?”
“I’m not sure.” Tora lay back, thinking. “But that hammer is around the Marble Gorge. I just know it. If we go there, I think we’ll find the Conjurer.”
In the morning, they told Inu and Goru about Tora’s dream. Inu frowned. “The Marble Gorge is in the next province over, but we’ll have to pass by the Eastern Mines to get to it. It could be dangerous.”
“Everything we do is dangerous,” retorted Tora. “Since when has that ever stopped us?”
“Besides, wasn’t the Conjurer first hidden near the mines? They were part of Tora’s dream,” said Usagi. “That must mean something, Inu. You said yourself that the gift of foresight is a talent she’s developing.”
Goru rubbed his giant hands together. “I say we go take a look. Tora saw the giant butterfly, after all. We should heed her tiger vision.”
They prepared to leave the younglings’ encampment. Since the Ghosts had only rock slings and wooden clubs, Inu offered them a few blades from his pack, some small enough to throw, and a sizable one that would be an effective weapon in Miru’s hands, given her elemental gift with metal.
“We have a friend who’s keeping other younglings with powers under his protection in a remote sanctuary,” Inu told her. “It’s a ways from here, deep in the central part of the island, but if you’re interested in joining forces with others, it would be a good place to start. We can take you.”
The silver-eyed girl hesitated. She looked at the other younglings. A couple of them made faces and shook their heads. “Appreciate the offer, but we’ve managed to do just fine where we are. Someday we’ll be strong enough to make our way back home.”
“I’m sure you will,” said the Dog Heir. He gave a crooked smile. “We’ll be going, then. But if you ever change your mind, go to Sun Moon Lake. When you come across a man named Yunja, just tell him that Inu—born in the year of the Metal Dog—sent you.” He gave Miru a formal bow.
She bowed back. “On behalf of the Ghosts, this Metal Dragon thanks you.”
A cry went up from the younglings of the valley. “Great gods, look what’s coming!”
It was the giant purple butterfly, soaring through the air like a flying ship with shimmering sails. The enormous creature dipped and dove, circling above them several times, as if to say goodbye. Usagi was half tempted to leap after it and try for another ride. She waved at it instead, touching the Ring of Obscurity at her neck. Thank you, she thought. The others exclaimed and shaded their eyes against the morning sun, watching the butterfly’s fluttering dance in the sky, its massive wings stirring everything around them with a gentle breeze. Then the great purple emperor wheeled and flew off toward the hidden forest, deep in the heart of the valley.
“It looked like it was blessing you,” said Miru, her silver eyes wide.
Usagi smiled. “Let’s hope.”
They said their goodbyes to the Ghosts of Butterfly Kingdom, and the Heirs and Heirlings set out from the valley.
“I wonder if they’ll ever go to Sun Moon Lake,” said Usagi. “They’ve been hiding in Butterfly Kingdom for so long. They’re lucky the people of Wingwood protect them.”
Inu tossed his shaggy hair out of his eyes. “They can’t hide in the valley forever, and it’d be good for them to be with other people with zodiac powers. They even said so themselves. If they change their minds, they know where to go.”
A thought occurred to Usagi. “You and Saru came across younglings with powers in the Dancing Dunes, and now we’ve discovered this group in the Butterfly Kingdom. There must be more younglings with powers hiding out there.”
He nodded. “I wouldn’t be surprised. The war might’ve wiped out most grown men and women with powers, but it couldn’t eliminate powers in Midagians entirely. Some will always emerge with talents and gifts as they come of age, as they have from the island’s earliest days. It’s only smart to hide.”
“If we find more, we should bring them to hide at Sun Moon Lake,” said Goru. “They’d be on our side instead of the Blue Dragon’s. Together we’d be so much stronger.”
Usagi felt a prick of doubt. Even if they did take all the younglings they found to Yunja, what was that to the Dragonlord, who already had so many under his command? Maybe it would be better to leave them be, especially if they’d found a way to live undetected. It seemed risky to involve more people in their cause. So many things could go wrong.
Launching into spirit speed, they headed for the province of Copper Moon, hardly stopping as they leaped and ran in the direction of the Marble Gorge. Usagi bounded with zeal, covering ever-longer distances with each step. It felt good to soar through the air by her own talents, though she would never forget what it had been like to actually fly. On the chain around her neck, the Ring of Obscurity bounced and clinked alongside h
er rabbit pendant. The ring’s weight was reassuring, reminding her that they had but one last missing Treasure to find. Once they recovered the Conjurer, they would be in the perfect position to go after the Treasures held by the Blue Dragon—and rescue the Tigress at last.
When it grew dark, they stopped to make camp and rest, eating the provisions they’d brought. Tora was quiet and listless, ignoring her salted strip of boar meat. Her tawny skin was ashen and her eyes were unfocused.
“You look like you’re going to throw up,” Usagi said, concerned. She brought out a sliver of dried manroot and urged Tora to chew it. “I know you don’t like the bitter taste, but it will make you feel better.”
With a grimace, Tora stuck the manroot in her cheek. “I’m not going to throw up. But my head feels like it’s going to split open.”
Goru rubbed his giant palms together and put them on either side of Tora’s head. “Does this help?” His fingers covered her entire face.
“Not really,” she said, pushing his hands away with a wan smile. She pinched her eyebrows together. “It’s like something’s trying to come out.”
Inu frowned. “That doesn’t sound good.” He offered her some water.
As Tora drank, Usagi searched for something else that might ease her headache. She felt the ironstone in her pocket and had an idea. “Maybe what’s trying to emerge is another vision. I brought a piece of the Tree of Elements with me—it’s the chunk of tiger iron that fell out when you were having your vision of the butterfly. Do you want to hold it for a while and see if something arises?”
“I don’t know, Usagi.” A flicker of fear crossed Tora’s face. “What happened at the Tree of Elements scared me.”
“But the vision you had—it totally came true,” said Usagi. “And I was there. You’ll be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Inu and Goru exchanged glances. “Are you sure about this, Usagi?” asked the Dog Heir.
With an impatient sigh, Usagi held out the tiger iron. “Just try a little mind-the-mind and hold this. Trust me. I think it might help.”
Tora winced and pressed her fingers to her temples. “All right.” She took the piece of ironstone and cradled it in her palm. She straightened in her seat and closed her eyes. Her breath slowed. As Usagi and the others waited, Tora’s eyelids began to flutter. Her forehead creased and her breathing became shallow. “Oh!” she exclaimed. A tear crept out from the corner of an eye and rolled down her cheek. After what seemed like an eternity, she took a shuddering breath and opened her eyes. Dazed, she blinked and smiled, the color returning to her face. “You were right, Usagi. It was a vision trying to surface.”
“Well, what did you see?” demanded Goru.
Tora turned the tiger iron over and over in her fingers. “It was another vision of the Conjurer. I saw the hammer on a slab of white marble, surrounded by glowing blue light. It felt warm and safe. Like you’d feel when you’re with family. And a voice was calling to me. It sounded almost like my father—but I think it was the Conjurer.”
“The hammer was talking?” Goru sat back, puzzled. “So . . . is that it?”
“That, and my headache is gone,” said Tora with relief. “I’m not great at explaining what I see. All I can say is we’re definitely on the right track.”
In the morning, they set off at the start of Dragon hour, traveling by spirit speed over hills and vales, by streams and lakes. As the sun crawled across the heavens, they crossed through untamed forests and swaths of grassland. Eventually the land grew rocky and barren, with little in the way of trees or vegetation to shield them.
They slowed to a stop. The sun was just going down, casting long shadows as it sank behind a plain dotted with colossal mounds around gaping maws in the earth. Wisps of smoke stretched toward the sky, weaving a hazy filter over the landscape.
“Is that what I think it is?” Usagi wondered.
Inu nodded grimly. “Yes. The Eastern Mines.”
Chapter 13
Shadowlands
THE SETTING SUN TURNED BLOOD red as it slipped through the thick haze that hung over the plain—a wide, flat expanse that went on for as far as the eye could see. Deep gashes in the earth shredded the landscape, and massive conical piles surrounded them, crusting the plain like giant barnacles. Towering plumes of smoke rose from smelting furnaces. In the distance, Usagi heard the clinking of hammers, rock being pulverized to dust, the crack of whips on human flesh, and keening shrieks of pain.
“The Eastern Mines are bigger than ever,” said Inu. “And I can smell their poison from here.” He pulled out a long cloth and wound it around his nose and mouth.
Goru sniffed, then shook his head. “I can’t quite smell anything, but I see the smoke.” Though the gray pall that blanketed the horizon, the sky was streaked with scarlet and gold, as if it were on fire. Dusk was setting in, and Usagi spied flickers of torchlight bobbing in the distance. She could hear the squeak of wagon wheels and oxen lowing as their carts were filled with extracted metals and precious stones to be transported on the Ring Road to the capital. Tora surveyed the landscape ahead and frowned.
“There are a lot of Guard around,” she said. “We’d best keep our distance.”
“How?” Usagi scratched her nose.
The Eastern Plains of Midaga were mineral rich and had supplied the kingdom with precious metals for centuries. Between the fertile fields of the Western Plains, called Midaga’s rice bowl, and the abundant ore and gemstone deposits in the mines of the Eastern Plains, known as Midaga’s vault, the kingdom had never wanted for anything.
But ever since the Blue Dragon had seized the throne, the crops of the Western Plains had been largely sent to neighboring empires as tribute, while the Eastern Mines had become not just a source of gold and silver for the Wayanis and Hulagans, but also a place for the Dragonlord to send his enemies and anyone suspected of being a threat to his regime. It was clear the mines had grown in size as thousands of Midagians were sent to labor in their depths. Never before had Midaga produced so much in riches. But none of it was for its people—and worse, its people were suffering for it.
Tora scanned their surroundings. There was little cover out on the plain. “Lucky for us it’s getting dark, but we shouldn’t camp out in the open like this. We can better hide ourselves in those hills.” She pointed.
They trudged along in silence, Tora leading the way in the fading light. Usagi had never been to this part of the island, but being sent to the mines had been a threat for nearly half her life, and she was unnerved to see them, even at a distance. The sounds of constant toil and suffering were all too clear with her rabbit hearing, and they tore at her with every step. She wished she could block them out the way Inu was trying to block out foul smells with his headwrap. Usagi fumbled in her pockets for some cotton wool to muffle her hearing but came up empty. She gritted her teeth and marched on.
As they drew closer to the hills, Inu grew uneasy. He pulled down the cloth covering his nose and sniffed the air. “I smell death,” he muttered, wrapping the cloth more firmly about his face. “Keep together and stay alert.”
Usagi tightened her grip on her walking stick and kept her ears pricked. Nervously she felt for her rabbit pendant. Her fingers brushed the Ring of Obscurity, and she cupped her palm around it, comforted for a moment. If they got into trouble, at least they had something that might help them out of it.
The sky turned dark, with only a faint glimmer of light from the sliver of moon rising over the horizon. They reached the edge of the hills, the great mounds looming black in the night. There was something familiar about their shape, like so many giant sleeping turtles. Usagi gave an involuntary squeak.
Inu and the others turned. “What is it?” he asked.
“I think I know why you smell death,” Usagi said. “These aren’t hills. They’re graves.”
Tora gasped. “Just like the turtleback grave at home.”
“There’s one outside my town too,” Goru said softly.
The traditional rounded turtle shape of Midagian graves was still visible in mass graves created after invasion and war, but the graves were so large they were often mistaken for hills. Usagi hadn’t seen one since she’d left Goldentusk.
But here, on the outskirts of the mines, was a whole host of great mounds. A giant graveyard, filled with who knew how many hundreds—or thousands—of dead. Usagi felt sick. How many people were worked till the point of collapse? How many were thrown away here?
They set up camp but spent a mostly sleepless night. Usagi found it hard to fall asleep, there amid the looming grave mounds, and the others tossed and turned as well. It wasn’t until the moon was high in the sky that soft snoring broke out at last, but Usagi remained wide awake, even as she closed her eyes and prayed for sleep. When the hour of the Rabbit came, the dawn light turning the black turtlebacks gray, Usagi gave up. She decided to stretch her legs and got out of her bedroll.
The Dog Heir raised his head. “Where are you going?” Inu whispered.
Usagi gestured to the surrounding hills. “I can’t sleep. I thought I’d take a short walk around.”
“I can’t sleep either,” said Tora. She rolled over, yawning, and sat up. “Do you want some company?”
A groan erupted from Goru. “We’re all awake. I don’t think anyone can sleep well in this place. Let’s just get going.”
“The sooner we get out of here, the better,” agreed Inu.
They packed up and set off, winding through the mounds. Unlike the giant turtleback at home, which was green with grasses and wildflowers, these were barren dirt hills littered with rocks and gravel. “Gods,” Usagi said. She kicked a stone, skittering it out of their path. “I was always afraid of being sent here, but now I know why.”
