“I appreciate your concern,” Iren said with only the mildest trace of sarcasm. “So now will you explain what happened to me?”
Melwar nodded. “You have a rare trait. You can use No Mind.”
“No Mind?”
“The first masters of it gave it that name to describe what happened to them. Tell me, what do you remember about your fight with Hana?”
“Nothing,” Iren said. “It was dawn a minute ago, or so it seems.”
“That is No Mind: a state lacking conscious thought. Rather than waste time making decisions, the body combines keen observation with muscle memory to react instantly. At first I doubted you could use it, given how poorly you judge social situations. It seems you are more discerning in battle.”
Iren thought back. “When I left Haldessa with Rondel last year, thieves ambushed us our first night out. I fought four of them at once. I didn’t have combat training, yet I defeated them easily. The whole time, I heard music in my head, as though the fight were set to it.”
“No Mind users often describe the rhythm of battle as musical,” Melwar said. “You must have entered No Mind in that fight without realizing it. It is good that you did; No Mind is likely the reason you survived that night. Had you been thinking clearly, you no doubt would have felt confusion about how to move, reluctance about committing to an attack, and horror over your first murder. No Mind frees the brain from such emotions and lets the natural impulse to survive take control. It is a powerful technique, one few enemies can stop. That said, it is not something to use often.”
“Why not?”
Melwar pointed down at him, still lying on his back. “That is why. When you are in No Mind, your body only thinks about survival. It does not concern itself with petty details like exhaustion. If the battle does not end, your body will keep fighting until it drops.”
Iren recalled the way Hana had struggled away from the training ground. “Can Hana use No Mind?”
“Yes, though she has to fight a while before the trance hits. That is why she could never defeat me in a duel, and thus why fighting me is your next challenge.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even with the pain training I have given you, I cannot truly prepare you for the intensity of breaking your body’s magical barrier. If your mind is conscious, the agony will overwhelm and kill you. But if you are unconscious, your body will not be able to resist my shadow magic, and you will also die. For our attempt to succeed, you need to be awake and at full strength, yet you must also lack conscious thought.”
“In other words, I can’t rely on battle to enter No Mind,” Iren said. “To regain my magic, I need to be able to enter it at any time.”
“Exactly, and that is what you will need to do in order to hit me. I can also use No Mind, and I can enter it seconds after starting a fight. At the risk of boasting, no Maantec can enter No Mind faster than I can. If you want to hit me, you will need to surpass me. You must enter the trance before we start, so that whatever move I make, you can react to it and defeat me in one blow.”
The Maantec lord put his back to Iren and stepped off the sand. “We will forgo your pain training today. Call it a reward for defeating Hana. Besides, you are not in any condition to face it. Continue to come here at dawn, and you and I will fight.”
Iren raised his head. “Wait a second. If even you need to enter battle to use No Mind, how can I do it without fighting?”
“If I knew that, I would be able to do it too,” Melwar said over his shoulder. “To be honest, I have my doubts that it is even possible. But if you ever want to use magic again, this is the only way.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Narunë’s Game
Rondel could barely keep her feet. As usual, though, the bullheaded Narunë was oblivious to her plight. Well, maybe what she had to tell him next would get his attention.
“Otunë’s dead,” she said. “He has been for a thousand years.”
The smile on Narunë’s face faded, and a pensive look replaced it. “I guess that strange disease got him.”
“Disease?”
“During the war, my brother ordered me to take my division and attack Shikari. We were supposed to be a rear guard assault to take out Saito’s reserve supplies. Had we succeeded, the Maantecs wouldn’t have been able to continue. We were set to invade, but when my first group of soldiers left the jungle, they died. I don’t know why. After that day, though, the rest of us never dared to leave Aokigahara.”
“So that’s why no one’s heard from you,” Rondel said. “Narunë, what happened to you was no disease. When we invaded Serona, Iren Saito cast a curse. It killed all the Kodaman fighters, including your brother.”
Narunë scowled. “So Saito won the war.”
“No, he’s dead too, and I can’t say that anybody won that war. After the battle in Serona, the fighting stopped. There were no leaders on either side, and even had there been, there was almost no one left to fight.”
The tattooed Kodama walked to the edge of the platform and sat down. His feet dangled over the edge. “I always figured I’d die first. Otunë was so calm, and I’ve never met a more powerful Dragon Knight. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
Rondel winced. She had meant to startle Narunë, not send him into a melancholy.
To change the subject, she looked at Minawë, who had a shocked expression. Rondel smiled. “I take it you’ve figured out who Narunë is.”
Minawë shook her head back and forth as though clearing some mental fog. “You’re my uncle, aren’t you?”
Her voice had the effect Rondel had hoped for. Narunë leapt to his feet and grinned. He never could stay depressed for long. “That’s right,” he said. He studied his niece. “So you’re Minawë. That’s a good name. It’s kingly. Though I guess that’s weird, considering you’re a girl!” He loosed his bellowing laugh.
“Kingly?” Minawë asked.
“Nawë was an ancestor of your father’s,” Rondel explained. “Narunë, he was, what, your great-grandfather?”
The big Kodama waved her off. “You think I can remember such things? Please, all I care about is that he’s the most famous Kodaman leader ever, even better than my brother. If you’re named after him, you have a lot to live up to.”
Narunë laughed and closed his right eye again, and that was when Rondel caught it. She knew that grin from centuries of doing it herself. It was too broad. Narunë knew. He was playing the fool, but he had figured out Rondel’s secret.
She had to get him away from Minawë before he let anything slip. If the girl ever found out the truth, she would hate Rondel forever.
Before Rondel could think of a plan, though, Narunë said, “I’ve been a terrible host. Rondel, you look like a jaguar mauled you. Our healer can put you back together. As for you, my niece, I offer you my own home, the best tree house in the city. The guard at the base of this tree can show you the way. Oh, and I suppose I’d better give this back to you.” He handed her the Forest Dragon Bow.
Rondel suppressed a smile. Narunë was Otunë’s brother, after all. It didn’t surprise her that he had come up with a way to have a private conversation with Rondel before she had.
They all headed down the rope ladder, and Minawë left with the guard for Narunë’s house. Narunë in turn led Rondel to a tree several hundred yards in the opposite direction.
Unlike the guard platform, this tree had a full building constructed within its canopy, as well as a pulley system to raise and lower visitors in a basket. “The trees here aren’t thick enough to make homes inside them like in Ziorsecth,” Narunë said, “so we adapted.”
They climbed into the basket. Narunë tugged on a rope, and a few seconds later they lifted off the ground.
The tree house’s construction was impressive; Rondel had to give it that. It was so organic that she had difficulty spotting the built parts through the curtain of wide jungle leaves. Though not as inconspicuous as a Ziorsecthan home, it came closer than she would h
ave expected.
When the basket stopped, Rondel and Narunë were inside a large, open room made of wood. Curtains of leaves divided the space into sections. Pained moans echoed throughout it.
“Welcome to our hospital,” Narunë said, his voice grim. “It isn’t normally this crowded, but, well, we’ve had some unusual times lately.”
A male Kodama dressed all in white came up to them. “Lord Narunë, how may I help you?”
“This woman needs treatment,” Narunë said, “somewhere private.”
The healer examined Rondel. “You’re a Maantec,” he spat.
“And a guest in this village,” Narunë added before Rondel could loose the sarcastic comment on her tongue. “Treat her as one of us. No, treat her as a war hero.”
That set the healer aback, but with a frown he said, “This way.”
The healer escorted them to a separate room in the back of the tree house, walled off by thick wood on all sides. “We designed this room for high-ranking patients,” the healer said. “We made it soundproof so they could discuss matters of state while in treatment. It hasn’t seen much use for that, but—”
“It will serve,” Narunë interrupted. “Now excuse us. I’ll be along shortly. When I’m gone, I expect you to give this woman your utmost attention. I want her healed as quickly as possible.”
To his credit, the man hesitated only briefly before saying, “Of course, Lord Narunë.”
When they were alone, Narunë dropped his false smile in favor of a scowl. “Now,” he said, “tell me what you’re really doing here.”
“We’re going to Shikari,” Rondel replied. “A friend of ours was kidnapped, and we think he’s being held there.”
Narunë twirled the broken Liryometa in his hand, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was studying Rondel’s face. “I see,” he said at length. “That isn’t the answer I was hoping for. Rondel, I can’t let you go to Shikari.”
Rondel blinked twice. “You what?” she asked. “I thought you were my friend. How can that be your answer?”
He held up a hand. “I am your friend, and under normal circumstances, I’d have no problem helping you. At the moment, though, I have a greater concern.”
“And that would be?”
“This jungle has more than animals in it. There are Yokai here too.”
Rondel frowned. Thousands of years ago, the Tengu had pushed the Yokai out of the Eregos Mountains, and most of the monsters had gone south. She hadn’t realized they were still alive. That said, a few Yokai shouldn’t pose a problem for battle-hardened Kodamas, and she told Narunë as much.
The burly Kodama huffed. “We’ve held them in check for a thousand years, despite their superior numbers. But in the past few months, the balance of power has changed. Out of nowhere, their Oni leader, Azar, somehow became the Fire Dragon Knight.”
A wave of pain radiated from Rondel’s left hand. For a moment she was back in the scorched fields of Serona, watching Hana take the Burning Ruby. “That can’t be,” she murmured.
“Tell that to the Kodamas lying wounded out there. Azar did that to them. They aren’t the only ones, either. I’ve lost a hundred of my best fighters to him already. We can’t compete with the Karyozaki, so I’ve ordered my patrols back to the village. The ones who brought you in last night were some of the last.”
Rondel clenched her fist. Hana didn’t have the knowledge to reforge the Fire Dragon Sword, but Melwar did. Hana must have taken the Burning Ruby to Melwar before she went to find Iren. Why Melwar had reforged the Karyozaki, though, and why he had given it to an Oni instead of one of his own men, were questions Rondel couldn’t answer.
“So you see, it’s simply too dangerous to cross Aokigahara at the moment,” Narunë said. He smiled slyly. “Of course, if Azar were dealt with, that might change the situation.”
Rondel had been trying to guess Narunë’s game ever since the platform, and now she saw it. “You don’t have to be so roundabout,” she said. “I know a quid pro quo when I see one. I get rid of this Oni, and you’ll help me and Minawë reach Shikari.”
“Well put.”
“And if I refuse?”
“You already know the answer to that.” His smirk deepened as he leaned in and whispered, “It only took me a few seconds, you know. As soon as I saw her, I knew. She’ll be staying in my home. We’ll have days to talk. Who knows what we might discuss?”
So that was how it was. “Understood,” Rondel said. “In exchange for your silence and your help getting to Shikari, I’ll kill Azar for you. Now give me back my Liryometa.”
Narunë held the broken dagger aloft. “What, this piece of garbage? It won’t do you any good like this. I have a smith from the war days. I’ll let him take a look at it. Who knows? Maybe he’ll come up with something.”
Rondel sighed in resignation. She wanted to believe the Kodamas could fix the rondel, but she doubted Narunë’s smith would know what to do with it. And without the Liryometa, Rondel had little confidence she could win against the Fire Dragon Knight.
That settled it. She couldn’t afford to die here, not with Iren still in Melwar’s hands. Forget Narunë. Forget Azar. Forget even the Liryometa. She would look for an opportunity to escape the hospital, find Minawë, and get out of this settlement undetected. “Narunë, I’m a tired old woman,” she said. “Please leave me. I need to rest.”
The faintest dimples sprouted on Narunë’s face. “Of course. Sleep well. I’ll check in on you later.” He walked to the door.
He was about to open it when he looked back at her. “A word of caution: don’t leave the hospital,” he said. “The healer and I know you aren’t a threat, but the rest of the Kodamas, well . . .” Narunë smiled again, that fake yet cunning grin so much like Rondel’s. “Let’s just say I hope there won’t be any unfortunate accidents.”
Narunë left. Rondel lay on the bed, sleep failing her even though she needed it. She was irritated, as much with herself as with Narunë. The two of them might be old friends, but this time the man had outplayed her. She had no choice but to pursue Azar. If she tried to run, she’d be seen as an enemy and attacked. Even if she escaped, she couldn’t complete her mission in Shikari without Minawë or the Liryometa, both of which she now had no idea where they were. Worst of all, if she showed any sign of becoming uncooperative, Narunë would tell Minawë the secret Rondel had kept from her for a thousand years.
Through her frustration, Rondel had to admit a begrudging admiration. Not only had Narunë trapped her perfectly with only a few minutes’ preparation, he’d done it without Minawë ever suspecting and without Rondel being able to say anything against him. He really was Otunë’s brother.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Hana’s Final Lesson
It was after sundown by the time Iren recovered enough to leave the training garden. He headed to his room, his body still aching. He supposed he should order some food from the kitchens, but he wasn’t hungry. All he wanted at the moment was a long, long rest.
When Iren entered his room, he found its candles lit and his futon set up. His lips pursed. He knew he’d packed up the futon before meeting Hana and Melwar this morning. It was another crazy Maantec rule. Beds were for sleeping. They weren’t to be left out and create a messy appearance.
Considering how tired he was, though, Iren wasn’t about to second-guess it. Melwar had probably ordered one of his servants to prepare the room in advance.
Iren removed his sweat-soaked kimono and stood naked in the room. He wished he could have bathed, but the cedar tub was useless to someone without magic. He walked over to it anyway to get a towel and wipe off the sweat that yet clung to him.
The tub was full. Iren dipped his hand in it; the water was hot.
Iren’s eyes circled back on the room, now on alert. The futon he could understand, but the tub was too much. Not even Melwar could have the foresight to have a servant draw a bath with such precise timing. This water couldn’t have entered the tub more t
han half an hour ago.
All the same, Iren doubted the tub was part of any unfriendly scheme. He slipped into the bath and sighed.
After a long soak and a scrubbing so harsh it left his body red, Iren reluctantly left the water, opened the tub’s drain, and dried off. From a nearby closet he retrieved a loose-fitting white robe, traditional Maantec sleepwear. He put it on and walked to his futon to settle in.
He’d just pulled the blankets back when a voice from behind him said, “Did you like my surprise?”
Iren whipped around. Hana stepped out from behind a set of sliding walls. The dim candlelight reflected off her white sleeping gown and gave her a glowing complexion. Her black hair hung in loose tumbles over her shoulders.
“Hana!” Iren yelped. “What is all this? What are you doing here?”
She approached him. Her scent, a perfume made from cherry blossoms, filled Iren’s nose. “What’s the matter?” she asked with mock timidity. “Don’t you want me here? Do you want me to leave?”
Iren’s heart pounded. She was standing too close. It made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to ask her to return to her room. Instead, through rapid breathing, he said, “No, of course not. You just caught me off guard.”
“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise otherwise.”
Everything about this felt wrong. Iren stepped back, but Hana followed him. He decided to try a distraction. “I read the first sentence of the diary,” he said. “It isn’t by my father after all. It’s by Iren Saito.”
“I know that,” she said. Her lips were inches from his face. His head tingled when her breath brushed against his hair.
“So,” he pressed on, struggling to keep his composure, “we don’t need to continue our lessons. You can go and do whatever you’d like.”
The wicked smile she flashed instantly made him regret what he’d said. “No, wait,” he stammered, “I didn’t mean—”
She put a finger to his lips. “It’s all right,” she said. “I understand. But my purpose here is to teach you about Maantec culture. I’ve helped you with the language, the food, and the dress. Even your manners have improved. If you don’t want my instruction, that’s fine. Before we part, though, there’s one last part of Maantec life I want to teach you.”
The Hearts of Dragons Page 18
