by Claire Luana
A lump grew in her throat and a tear froze in the corner of her eye. She focused on the discomfort of it, the ice crystal tugging at her eyelash, scraping the lid. When had she last let a tear fall? Years. Not even for Airi. She was unraveling. She could sense somehow that the glue that had held the pieces of her together was melting away. So she focused on the remaining task before her.
She had already been waiting twenty-four hours, but had to stay until the fool sunburner prince and his band of misfits made their bumbling attempt to free Taiyo. It could be days more. At least once the moon rose again, she could burn for warmth.
She had been cautioned to wait, to let the burners release Taiyo of their own free will. But Geisa knew that with the right motivation, she could mold a will to her own. She was tired of waiting. Tired of careful political maneuvering, of being used, of sitting in cells, in caves. She was ready to burn this world to the ground—every face, every bit she recognized—until there was nothing but oblivion. She eyed her twisted tengu, waiting glassy-eyed for her instructions. She wasn’t a safe pet anymore. She had gone feral.
“Bear,” she called, her eyes gleaming in the pale light of the cave mouth. “Go find Prince Hiro. He will land below the pass. Bring him here to me, and we will use his blood to free his precious god.”
CHAPTER 30
After two days of flying, Kai caught her first glimpse of the Adesta Islands. She sighed with relief. Her legs and back ached from the hours in the saddle, and her koumori’s movements were sluggish beneath her.
Lights clustered on the north side of the largest island, evidence of the island’s small fishing hamlet. They landed their koumori on the island’s southern beach.
With rubbery legs, Kai walked down to the shore, where the waves washed up on the beach. Quitsu trailed behind her.
“I’ve never seen the ocean,” she whispered into a cool breeze that tousled her hair and caressed her skin.
“Me either,” Quitsu said, similarly awed.
The wind brought new smells—salt from the sea, seaweed washed onto the shore and dried in the sun. The sand beneath her boots was unlike anything she had ever felt—slippery, yet firm. The waves crashed into the beach in a rhythmic pattern that soothed her spirit and reminded her of her earliest lessons in moonburning. She knelt down and let a wave lap over her hand, burying her fingers in the cold, wet sand.
Colum joined her, looking out at the ocean, gray in the faint morning light. The other islands were shadows in the distance.
Colum’s curly hair rustled in the breeze, and when he turned to Kai, there was a gleam in his eyes. There was a calm about him Kai had never seen before. As if the mask he wore had been washed away by the salt air. “I forgot how much I missed it,” he said.
“It’s incredible,” Kai said. “I never knew what I was missing.” She laughed ruefully. “Is this close to where you grew up?”
Colum pointed southwest. “A few days sailing that direction will get you there,” he said.
“You should go visit,” Kai said. “After all of this is done.”
Colum was silent for a moment before he said, “This is your goddess’s domain too.”
“The ocean?” Kai asked. “I hadn’t thought about it.”
“It is,” Colum said. “My people believe that Tsuki rules the waves, the tides. Taiyo rules the land, but Tsuki the sea. It makes sense that we’ll find her here.”
“I hope we do,” Kai said.
They stared into the crashing waves for a time before Kai reluctantly turned and trudged up the beach to join the others.
Chiya and Jurou set off at dawn to scout the neighboring islands, looking for the beach from the vision.
It took them less than an hour to find it.
“We didn’t find Tsuki,” Chiya said, springing off her koumori, “but we did find the beach where the vision begins. In the image, the viewer gets into a boat and rows towards the next island. So we figured we should start our search on that next island.”
“Sounds good,” Colum said, approaching from the water’s edge. A strange, red-shelled creature squirmed in his hand, and a bag looped around his shoulder bulged with more.
“What is that?” Kai wrinkled her nose, bending over and looking at the creature. It snapped at her with a sharp pincer.
“Crab,” Colum said, smacking his lips. “Tastes amazing roasted with butter.”
Kai eyed the creature skeptically. “I might have to take your word for it,” she said.
They packed up camp quickly and headed for the next island, landing on its northern beach.
“See that little blue boat?” Chiya pointed across the channel to the next island.
Kai shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted. “Yes, I can just make it out.”
“It’s the boat from the vision. I can’t believe it’s really here.”
“Good work, Chiya,” Kai said, pondering the right time to tell Chiya the other part of her role. Why the box had only worked when held in her hand. The part where they needed her blood to open Tsuki’s prison.
“Where should we look?” Kai mused out loud.
“Everywhere,” Jurou said, wringing his hands in excitement.
Kai stifled a smile. He reminded her so much of Master Vita. His excitement for their adventure seemed undampened by the terrible future that would face them if they failed.
“Let’s fan out,” Kai said. “Each pick a path and walk it from one side of the island to the other. It’s not a big place; we should find her before too long.”
“What’re we lookin’ for, Queenie?” Colum asked, his hat low over his eyes.
“You’ll know it when you see it. Quitsu, Tanu,” Kai called, before the seishen had a chance to scamper off. “See if there are any animals on the island you can talk to. Ask about anything out of place. Buildings, sculptures…anything manmade, really.”
“On it,” Quitsu said and was gone with a flash of white. With a nod from Chiya, Tanu followed.
Kai walked through the island’s lush foliage, unable to stop herself from gawking at the island’s vibrant flowers, tiny cerulean frogs, and giant palm fronds. Her sense of wonder buoyed her spirits for a time until she emerged from the green center of the island onto the southern beach, where the rest of the group waited.
“Anything?” Kai asked.
They shook their heads. Kai took a swig of water from her canteen, wiping sweat from her brow. The heat of the midday sun was stifling despite the breeze that ruffled her hair. The air felt heavier here, more tangible.
“I found fresh water,” Colum said. “So we won’t die of thirst.”
“That’s something,” Kai said. “Let’s do one more pass before we rest. When the moon comes up we can scry for her.”
Their second search was as fruitless as the first. There was no sign that humans or tengu had ever been on the island, let alone buried a hidden goddess waiting to be set free.
Despite the setback, Colum’s bounty from the sea raised their spirits at dinner. He roasted lemon-yellow fish on sticks over the fire and dropped the hard-shelled crabs right into the flames to crackle and warm.
They laughed at each other as they tried to break into the shells, squirting hot juices down their fronts. The flavor of the meat was salty and rich despite the creatures’ tough exterior. Jurou examined the crustaceans with a puzzled expression before discovering the perfect way to twist the joints to be rewarded with a whole delectable piece of meat.
They fed the bonfire with dried palm fronds, and the sweet hazy smoke soothed Kai’s restless mind. She reclined on her elbows, her belly full and happy. Colum produced a small flask of sun whiskey, and they passed it from hand to hand.
The warmth of the fire mingled with the cool salt air, and for a time, Kai forgot her troubles.
When the fire had died down to embers, Kai and Chiya walked down to the ocean to scry for the goddess. Kai scooped sea water into a shallow wooden bowl and handed it to Chiya. “Why don’t you do the hon
ors?” She wasn’t quite ready to disclose to Chiya that she couldn’t moonburn.
Chiya traced the symbols on the surface of the water, waiting for the water to reveal its prize.
Nothing appeared. It shimmered, as if trying to show something, but it stayed murky and dark.
“Crap,” Kai said.
“Maybe it’s the salt water?” Chiya ventured.
Kai hadn’t thought of that.
They dumped the seawater and Chiya poured fresh water from her canteen into the bowl. They tried again. Nothing.
They walked back to the fire and sat down on the sand, dejected.
“Nothing,” Kai told the rest.
Quitsu and Tanu emerged from the forest, revealed by the glow of the fire.
“We spoke with some wild koumidi who live here,” Quitsu said. “They’ve never seen any sign of man on the island.”
“We have to find her,” Jurou said with a strange fervor, firelight glinting in his eyes. “We must have missed something.”
Kai massaged the bridge of her nose, trying to think of what to try next.
“Sometimes it’s best to start at the beginning,” Colum said.
“What do you mean?” Kai asked.
“The box. A detail we’ve missed.”
“We didn’t bring it,” Jurou said. “Kai made us leave it behind.”
She recoiled slightly at the weight of his accusation but pushed down her frustration. After the seishen elder’s warning, she had been adamant about leaving the box in the safety of the treasury. Jurou had argued long and hard that they should bring it with them.
“Queenie was right not to bring it,” Colum said. “Who knows what could happen to it out here. Besides. We don’t need it. We’ve all seen the image. Use your memories.”
“Eyewitness recollection is notoriously faulty,” Jurou grumbled.
“It can’t hurt,” Kai said. “We aren’t going anywhere until we figure this out. Chiya, why don’t you tell us what you remember?” Perhaps Chiya’s connection as Tsuki’s true heir would give her some edge—some ability to see what the rest of them had missed.
Chiya sighed but recited the vision, including every image in painstaking detail. “It ends with rowing the boat to this island. We know it’s this island. I recognize it. Even the boat is right over there,” she said, pointing to the other island across the dark stretch of water.
“Did you ever get to this island?” Colum asked, looking thoughtful. “In the vision. You didn’t reach it, did you?”
“No,” Chiya said. “It cut out right before the viewer gets here. With the phosphorescence.”
“We’ve assumed that Tsuki is on this island. But what if she isn’t?” Colum asked.
Kai’s mind whirled. “Tsuki is connected to the sea. You think…she’s underwater?”
“Why not?” Jurou chimed in, his excitement growing. “It’s the perfect place to hide her. No one would happen upon her. And it’s not like she has to breathe. She’s a goddess.”
“The phosphorescence,” Chiya said. “In the vision. Maybe…I don’t think it led across the whole stretch of water. What if it’s a marker?”
“Let’s get a koumori and check it out,” Kai said.
“Aren’t we getting ahead of ourselves?” Colum asked. “If she’s truly underwater, how in the gods’ names are we going to free her?”
“One problem at a time,” Kai said. “We find her first. Then we can worry about how we free her.”
Kai walked into the trees and whistled for the koumori. One of the females swept down onto the soft sand. Kai made quick work of harnessing her up and hopped on.
As soon as she was airborne, Kai saw what they had been missing. Of course Tsuki would reveal herself at night. The phosphorescence stood out below Kai in stark contrast to the dark waters of the ocean. A circle of shimmering white light pulsed towards a central point.
A veritable bullseye showing them their target.
CHAPTER 31
The flight to the Akashi Mountains was long and dark. As they neared the mountains, the cool air of the foothills washed over them, a relief after the hot and sticky city night. But as they traveled farther and higher into the mountains, Hiro began to shiver.
He let out a teeth-chattering sigh of relief when the two peaks came into view. They cut a forbidding figure in the moonlight—guarding the pass with twin faces of jagged rock and ice. Hiro directed his koumori to land near the top of the pass, but it refused, fighting his commands and twisting at the reins. With a grunt of frustration, he allowed it to sweep down and land on a flat spot below the two peaks.
The others landed around him, dismounting and rifling through their packs to pull out hats, gloves, and coats. One of the moonburners wrapped him in heat and he sighed as the tension in his body unraveled.
“Thank you,” he said.
“You’re very welcome,” Stela said.
Hiro unstrapped Ryu from the golden eagle harness and his seishen leaped to the ground, letting out a huge teeth-baring yawn.
“We’re headed up between those peaks.” He pointed. The rugged crags looked even more imposing from below, the way up more treacherous. “It’s going to be tough going, but we’ll take it nice and slow. Let me know if you need a break. Now let’s eat a little something and get moving.”
They crouched in the snow, pulling out packets of dried meat and cheese. Everything was cold and hard; Hiro had to let a bite thaw in his mouth before he could chew it. He tried not to think of the idyllic tropical island from Chiya’s half of the box.
When they were finished, they took out the rest of their gear, proceeding with much trial and error to strap sets of sharp spikes onto their boots.
“What’s all this stuff for?” Leilu muttered, examining a fine-pointed axe that Nanase had insisted they would need.
“I reckon we’re going to find out,” Hiro said.
The air was thin; Hiro’s team couldn’t move for more than thirty minutes before resting. Hiro pushed his frustration down and concentrated on setting one foot in front of the other. He thanked Taiyo that the sky was clear and that they didn’t have snow or bad weather to contend with. This was tough enough. They walked in silence. No one had extra breath left for talking.
As the sun rose, the landscape changed dramatically. Hiro and Daarco took over the job of warming their group, keeping protective layers of heat wrapped around each of the moonburners as they moved. The sun shone powerfully against the white snow, turning the landscape into a blinding mirror.
The day passed at a glacial pace. Just after the sun set, Hiro’s team reached a cluster of boulders. The stark gray monoliths were the most defensible position he’d seen all day and would shield them from the wind.
“Let’s make camp here,” he said, resting his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
The group trailed in, dropping packs and collapsing in the snow. No one moved for a few moments, relishing the brief reprieve for heaving lungs and aching legs. Only Ryu seemed unbothered by the day’s exertions.
“Emi,” Hiro called. “Will you get a fire going and start cooking some food?”
“Why me?” Emi snorted. “Because I’m a woman and belong in the kitchen?”
Hiro rolled his eyes. “No, because you’re a moonburner, and you have most of the food in your pack.”
“I don’t know,” Emi said. “Still seems a little sexist.”
“I’ll help you,” Daarco growled, getting up with a groan and dusting the snow from his pants.
Hiro raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“What would you like us to do?” Stela asked.
“Gather some snow to boil for water,” Hiro said. “I’ll work on setting up the tent.”
“Snow?” Leilu asked, hands on her hips. “You sure we’ll be able to find any?”
Hiro stifled a sigh. He supposed sarcasm was a good sign. He would need to worry when they lost their spirit entirely.
Despite her comment, Leilu walked ov
er and helped Hiro set up the tent.
“Will you hand me that stake?” Hiro asked. “Leilu?”
She started, looking at him, mouth open. “Look,” she said, pointing up the mountain.
Up the darkened face of the snowy slope, above where the two peaks touched the sky, danced the ribbon of light the box had shown them. It undulated and flickered in shades of green woven with streaks of indigo and gold.
“It’s beautiful,” Emi breathed. They all stared, eyes wide like children at their first solstice festival.
“Taiyo is up there,” Hiro said, a sureness settling into his bones.
“And it looks like he wants to be found,” Leilu said.
They ate quickly and in silence, methodically chewing hard slices of dried meat and stale crackers before washing them down with metallic-tasting snow-melt. They collapsed into their bedrolls minutes later. Hiro heard snores before he could even assign Stela the first watch.
Though Hiro’s body was exhausted from the demands of the day, he couldn’t quiet his mind enough to sink into sleep. It seemed he was not the only one. He heard Emi’s whispered voice.
“Are you glad you came?” she asked Daarco, whose bedroll lay next to hers under the low tent.
“When I’m hours into trudging up a blinding, icy hill, I begin to doubt,” Daarco said quietly with a low chuckle. “But yes. Hiro’s had my back since we were kids. I owe him the same.”
“Loyalty,” she said. “It’s a good trait. But it can be a shackle. Do you feel disloyal because you are allying yourself with moonburners?”
