by Claire Luana
After the initial unsettling revelation of the handprint, those in the room seemed to reach an unspoken agreement that the strange mark would not be spoken of. It was enough that Kai had almost died and through some miracle now lived, healthy and strong. There would be time to unravel the mystery later.
The head nurse refused to discharge Kai from the hospital ward yet, but there was work to be done. Her time of delirium and nightmares had cemented one dreadful certainty in her mind. They were at war with the gods. And they were losing.
Hiro hadn’t left her side since Kai had awoken. He sat on her bed, a solid presence tucked against the pillow behind her, content to let her eat and drink in silence.
Kai relished his presence, tension unraveling at his nearness. Even before this wretched business with the fever, they had been so busy. Hiro frequently traveled back and forth from Kyuden to Kistana and she had an increasingly needy country to run. There had been little time for romance, or even fun. It felt good to just sit together.
“Thank you for what you did,” Kai finally said. “With the crown. It was genius.”
“It didn’t work.” He shook his head, his thick brows twisted in confusion. “I mean it did—until it didn’t. I wish we knew…how you were healed. But I suppose I should just be grateful for the miracle.”
“I’ll remember in time. I hope. But somehow I feel like what you and Emi did with the crown…that it was important.” Kai’s memories of her illness were foggy and dark. The harder she tried to remember, the further away they seemed. She shoved down her frustration. Her mind was tired and her body was weak from illness. Berating herself for not remembering wasn’t going to help anyone.
“I still can’t believe it. After we came so close…” He trailed off. He ran his hand over his golden hair, which shone dully in the light of the moon orbs. He looked as if the color had been drained from him.
Kai squeezed his hand with her own. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Hiro didn’t speak while Kai finished her breakfast, but his weary face still bore such a look of mixed fear and relief that she realized the depth of what her fever had put her family through. They’d thought her a dead woman; her crypt was reflected in their eyes. She fought down a pang of guilt. She hadn’t meant for this to happen.
Kai wiped her mouth and moved the plate from her bedside. She looked down at herself and winced. Her clothes were stiff with dried sweat and smelled sickly. Her hair was a mess. She sighed.
“Nurse,” she called, “please have a servant draw me a bath and get me a fresh uniform.”
She didn’t wear her moonburner uniform very often anymore, but somehow it seemed appropriate. They were going to war.
Her council gathered in the hospital ward, drawing chairs around her bedside. Kai asked Hiro to stay. The kingdom of Kita would have a role to play in the things to come as well.
“I think it is time we addressed the Oracle’s prophecy,” Kai began. “We had hoped it would prove to be false, to have some other meaning than the obvious. But it is time we…time I face the facts. And it is time that I share something with you that I have concealed for some time.”
Her council shifted forward, curious.
“I have seen Tsuki,” Kai said. A roiling set of images flashed before her eyes, nightmares blending with images of the past into a terrifying portrait of Tsuki. “When I was fairly new at the citadel, I was in Tsuki’s chapel, and I saw something that I wasn’t supposed to see. Queen Airi and General Geisa slit open a koumidi and used its blood to summon Tsuki. Or something that professed to be her.”
Kai described all she had seen to the stunned faces of those around her.
“She wanted blood. And suffering. And another sacrifice. And before the eclipse…” Kai faltered, swallowing her own shame. How could she tell them that she had seen a man murdered just steps away from her and had done nothing?
Master Vita came to her rescue. “Airi and Geisa sacrificed one of the sunburner prisoners. She came when they called her. Kai speaks the truth.”
“How can this be?” Hanae asked. “All the ancient stories tell of Tsuki as a healer, an extension of the moon and the oceans. She is a benevolent force that is part of the earth. Part of its lifecycle.”
“Part of the lifecycle is death,” Chiya said. “Maybe she grew tired of being good.”
“She just woke up one divine day and decided to become evil? That doesn’t make sense,” Hiro said.
“Chiya is right,” Master Vita said. “She’s on to something anyway. When the burner wars started, something changed. As much as the histories make it sound like the burners have always hated each other, that isn’t true. They lived together for many hundreds of years. It wasn’t until the division of Kita and Miina when the animosity truly started.”
“So you’re saying something about the gods changed? And started the war?” Kai asked.
“Lovers’ quarrel?” Hiro mused.
“That’s the legend,” Kai said, “but that can’t be true. Can it?”
Master Vita wiped his half-moon spectacles with a white cloth and put them back on. “I don’t know. We do know that the world is not as it should be. It has been declining for many years, slowly, but now it gains speed. We can ignore it no longer.”
“I agree,” Hanae said. “I think something has gone desperately wrong with our god and goddess. There’s a reason they’ve abandoned their holy charge to keep balance and light in this world. If we have any hope of setting things right, we must discover the cause.”
“How do we do that?” Kai asked, more to herself than the council.
“It’s a shame we can’t ask Airi or Geisa how to summon Tsuki,” Chiya mused. “Maybe we could find out what she wants.”
“Besides suffering and death?” Kai said flatly.
Chiya ducked her head. “Besides that. All I mean is, perhaps there is some other way to appease them that we could discover.”
Kai’s mood blackened as she thought of the cruel facility Airi and Geisa had built under the floors of the citadel, a twisted place where they had forced innocent moonburners to bear burner children for the queen’s army. It was a black mark on the moonburners’ already bloody history.
“I’m afraid the secret of summoning Tsuki may have died with Geisa and Airi. Perhaps it’s for the best,” Master Vita said.
“That’s not…entirely true.” Nanase spoke for the first time. She was leaning against the hard stone wall of the hospital ward, examining the end of one of her braids. She had been silent throughout the exchange.
“What? Which part?” Kai asked.
“Geisa isn’t dead.”
“Excuse me?” Kai said. “Geisa isn’t dead?”
Nanase sighed, thunking down hard into a chair like a block of stone. “I was going to tell you…eventually.”
“Eventually?” Kai’s voice rose an octave. “How is this possible?”
“After the Battle at the Gate, after I…killed Queen Airi.” Nanase mumbled through the words as if it was a bad dream she wished she could forget. “I went down to the facility to collect Maaya’s body.”
Kai remembered that moment when her carefully-laid plan to sneak them out of the facility without bloodshed had come crashing down. When her best friend, the sweetest, most innocent moonburner of all, had betrayed them. When she had fallen, crimson blood staining her white servant’s uniform.
Hiro squeezed Kai’s hand.
Nanase continued. “I found Geisa near death, but still alive. I had a lot to deal with, what with the casualties from the battle, your new reign, and the sunburners on Kyuden soil, so I had her thrown into a cell. I assumed she would just bleed out in the next few hours and die. Perhaps I should have put her out of her misery, but frankly, I didn’t think I owed her the courtesy.”
“I went in the next day to collect her body, but she was still alive. She was crumpled into herself, babbling about the sunburners and King Ozora. The loss of blood had made her delusional. I decided that G
eisa didn’t deserve a clean death. She deserved to suffer. So I had her stitched and cleaned up and gave her food and water. I planned to keep her in that cell one day for every day she’d imprisoned one of our sisters in that facility. I figured we could execute her then.”
Chiya had turned white at the mention of the facility but seemed emboldened by Nanase’s statement. She nodded her approval.
Kai shook her head with disbelief. “How could you keep this from me? You unilaterally sentenced a moonburner without my consent or knowledge.” Anger flared to life within her. “Nanase, you have served me faithfully, but this…this borders on treason.”
Nanase slid to her knees before Kai’s bed, bowing her head. “I accept full responsibility for the wrong I have done you, and I will accept whatever punishment you deem appropriate. I know it’s no consolation, but I had hoped…to spare you. The knowledge that she still lived. The pain it might have caused you. The decision that would need to be made. I know it was wrong, but that is why I did it.”
Kai’s council was still and silent around her, their collective breaths held at the scene.
Kai’s anger dimmed. “Get up, Nanase,” she said wearily.
Nanase rose in a lithe movement, her head still bowed in deference.
“Each of you hear me. No one makes critical decisions without consulting me, and no one keeps information from me, no matter how benevolent your reasons.” Kai’s voice was hard as she looked from face to face.
They nodded, and Kai saw in Nanase’s dark eyes that she understood. They were her friends, her family, but she was their queen, too. They needed to see her as such.
“I can’t condone you keeping Geisa alive behind my back, but I suppose it’s good that you did.” Kai stood. “Anyone else have any secret prisoners they’re hiding from me?”
Her question was met by silence. Master Vita shook his head.
“Very well,” Kai said, steeling herself for what was to come. “Let’s interrogate a prisoner.”
CHAPTER 6
Kai and Nanase descended the stone steps into the citadel’s dungeon. The twisting staircase was dimly lit by moon orbs. Kai’s cheeks were hot with anger at Nanase, but a secret part of her felt relief as well. What would she have done if Nanase had brought this information to her in her first week as queen? She would have been paralyzed with indecision about how to deal with Geisa. Public execution? Kill her quietly? Keep her prisoner? Each of the choices left a bitter taste in Kai’s mouth—even now.
The dungeons were empty but for one cell. Nanase nodded her head to the guard, who unlocked the door. The stench hit Kai like a physical thing. She looked crossly at Nanase, who set her jaw and crossed her arms before her.
The woman inside was hardly recognizable as human. She shied away from the light, her eyes covered by stringy hair that appeared more brown than silver. She was gaunt, barely more than skin and bones. The tattered dress she wore hung from her frame, and goosebumps pebbled her flesh. It was a miracle she hadn’t frozen to death down here with nothing to protect her from the seeping cold of the stone floor and walls. Her forearms were covered with ragged gashes, some more healed than others.
“What happened to her arms?” Kai murmured.
“Self-inflicted,” Nanase said. “We thought maybe she was slowly succumbing to madness. The gashes weren’t deep enough to kill her. But now, hearing your tale, I can’t help but think she was trying to summon divine help.”
Kai shivered, and not from the cold.
“Guard, move her to a clean cell where we can interrogate her,” Kai ordered, moving back into the stairwell, where the smell wasn’t so pungent.
“You know we don’t mistreat prisoners here,” Kai said to Nanase in a low tone. “I wouldn’t have thought it of you.”
Nanase looked at the ground, two parts contrite and one part defiant. “I wouldn’t have thought it of myself. But every time I started bettering her conditions, I thought about what she and Airi did—right under our noses. How she abused the students and women that I had sworn to train and protect. And I would get so furious that I wanted to storm down those stairs and kill her with my bare hands. She’s lucky neglect is all she got. She didn’t treat her own prisoners with such courtesy.”
They both watched as the guard half-carried Geisa from the cell, moving down the hallway. The woman was too weak to walk on her own and leaned against the guard for support. Kai couldn’t condone torture or neglect, but…thinking of what Geisa had done to Chiya and the others made Kai’s blood boil even now. She laid a hand on Nanase’s shoulder. “I understand. But the mistreatment ends now. And no more secrets.”
“Agreed. I don’t regret what I did, except that. Keeping it from you. It wasn’t right.”
The guard poked her head into the hallway. “She’s ready for you.”
Kai straightened her uniform and nodded.
The room where Geisa now sat was clean and well-lit with oil-lanterns—a vast improvement over the overwhelming filth and stench of the burner’s former habitat.
Kai sat down in a sturdy wooden chair across a table from Geisa. The woman’s wrists and ankles were chained in heavy iron manacles attached to each other through a ring in the table. Nanase stood behind Kai with her lean arms crossed, her stern face a still mask.
Kai examined the woman across from her. Geisa was painfully thin—her eyes hollow and sunken in dark rings. Yet she did not seem weak. Hatred coiled in the woman, waiting patiently for its time to strike. Geisa had not been broken.
“Did she come?” Kai asked. Kai had decided to try the direct route in the hopes that she could trick Geisa into thinking Kai knew more than she did. She prayed it would work. She didn’t have the stomach for torture, even of a woman like Geisa.
“Who?” Geisa asked, her voice soft and hoarse, as if she had not used it in many months.
“Tsuki,” Kai said, motioning to the ragged cuts on Geisa’s arms, still angry red and puffy. “Did she come?”
Geisa met Kai’s eyes, searching, evaluating. Kai stilled her heartbeat and stared back, unflinching.
“Yes,” Geisa finally said, a knowing smile growing on her face. “She did come.”
“I understand that you will not give us all of your mistress’s secrets freely,” Kai said, “but if you provide us with some information, we can make your time here more…comfortable.” She motioned to the room around her. “Otherwise, I can put you back in Nanase’s capable hands.”
Geisa flinched slightly at that, her eyes flicking to Nanase and back. “Ask your questions.”
“What does she want?” Kai asked. “What is her endgame?”
Geisa chuckled quietly. “They want you to die. All of the burners. They plan to remake this world, to usher in an era of blood and darkness where they reign supreme. Those who follow them will be rewarded. And those who oppose them will be crushed.”
“Oh, is that all?” Kai looked back at Nanase, who rolled her eyes. “Who are they? Tsuki and Taiyo?”
“My mistress and her lover.”
“How do they plan to bring about this era of blood and darkness, etc.?” Kai willed her voice to remain disinterested, though inside she was chilled to the bone.
“Even I don’t know that. Free me, and I might be able to find out,” Geisa suggested.
“I’ll pass, thank you,” Kai said. “It doesn’t make sense. Taiyo and Tsuki created the burners. Why do they want to destroy them now?”
“Maybe they tire of you and your endless questions.” Geisa said.
Kai looked at her, pursing her lips. Geisa was toying with her.
“I won’t tolerate my time being wasted,” Kai slapped the table. “Answer truthfully or I will send you back to your cell and let you waste away to nothing.”
Kai kept her eyes locked on Geisa’s. They glittered dangerously. If it was a battle of wills the woman wanted, Kai was here to play.
“Tsuki and Taiyo rule the sun and moon. Why would they want to usher in an era of darkness?”
“Simple Kai,” Geisa said. “Always a step behind.”
“That’s your queen you speak to,” Nanase growled behind Kai’s shoulder. “One more comment like that and you’ll never see moonlight again.”
Geisa sighed, like she was speaking with a small child. “Tsuki and Taiyo wouldn’t want such a world.”
“What?” Kai asked, frustration welling in her. “You just said that was your mistress’s plan.”
All of a sudden, realization dawned on Kai. She remembered joking with Quitsu about how the fearsome spirit they had seen seemed more like Tsuki’s evil sister than the goddess herself.
“Your mistress calls herself Tsuki, but she isn’t really her, is she?”
Geisa’s face split into a grin and she released a wild, raucous laugh. “How bittersweet it must be to finally understand, only to find out you are too late.”
“Where is Tsuki?” Kai asked.
“Tsuki is dead!” Geisa said through peals of hysterical laughter.
Kai stood up, backing away from Geisa, knocking her chair back. She clasped her hands to keep them from shaking. “Back in her cell,” Kai growled, storming from the room.
Kai hurried back up the stairs, her need to feel the open night air around her overpowering any worries about maintaining an aura of queenly serenity. Despite the darkness, the heat still permeated, hanging over the citadel like a thick blanket. It felt just as suffocating as the low stone ceiling of the citadel dungeons.
Kai leaned against the wall, willing her breathing to return to normal. Tsuki could not be dead. Gods and goddesses didn’t die. They were divine. Immortal. That was the whole point.
Nanase joined her, her face full of questions.
“I believe that the being I saw, the being Geisa worships, is something other than Tsuki. It would make perfect sense,” Kai said. “But I can’t believe Tsuki is dead. I won’t. Not without proof.”
“What do you want to do?” Nanase asked.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “We need to know more about this creature Geisa worships. What she is. Get the others on it.”
