by Claire Luana
She helped Quitsu out of his harness, where he had remained securely fastened through her ordeal. He tumbled to the ground in a mess of fur and claws, seeming to cling to the ground for a few moments longer than necessary. She pretended not to notice, instead taking in her first glimpse of Kyuden from the ground.
Despite the late hour, there were people all around, bustling from place to place. Servants in silver and white livery ran out to take the koumori to their rookery.
“I will take you to the hospital ward first,” Pura said. “You need to see someone about your injuries.”
“I’m afraid that will have to wait,” said a short, stout woman who had hurried up from the nearest entrance. “The queen wants an immediate audience.”
Kai, Pura and Quitsu were led into the throne room by the tight-lipped woman who had summoned them.
Though she was filled with trepidation about meeting the queen, Kai couldn’t help but gaze slack-jawed at the room. Her eye was first drawn to its sweeping ceilings. Tall gray marble columns rose gracefully and met at elaborate star designs from across the room. The panels between the marble stars were painted with scenes of the night sky—stylized constellations and the moon in its various cycles.
Orbs of white light hung in thin air throughout the room, the soft light illuminating both the room and the ceiling, making the celestial scenes glow. Kai’s borrowed leather boots squeaked across the white marble floors, polished to a high sheen.
Pura dropped to one knee in front of the dais at the front of the room and Kai hastily did the same, bowing her head in imitation of the other woman. Quitsu daintily sat beside her, like a cat patiently waiting to be handed its saucer of cream.
“Rise,” a soft, feminine voice said.
Pura and Kai stood, and Kai got her first look at Queen Airi, the woman whose name cast terror into the hearts of Kitan children.
She was tiny. Even standing two steps above them on the dais, Kai thought herself slightly taller. The queen’s face was round and perfect, with delicate features and alabaster skin. Yet her figure was womanly—her generous bosom and thin waist accentuated by an impeccably-tailored periwinkle dress. Its high collar and silk seemed old fashioned, but somehow suited the queen perfectly.
Her silver hair was braided and piled into an elaborate design high on her head, pinned with silver crescent moon pins. She wore a thin circlet of silver, so bright that it seemed to glow on her brow.
Kai blinked, trying to reconcile the woman in front of her with the evil tyrant from Kitan bedtime stories.
Behind the queen, curled up on the throne on the dais, was a silver dragon, her seishen. It barely lifted its head to acknowledge the guests.
Next to the queen stood a tall shapely woman with long, loose silver hair and a navy moonburner uniform. Her face was fine-featured, with graceful arching brows, high cheekbones and a delicate chin. Yet her face held no beauty; her mouth was twisted in a grimace. It was a face that had been burned into Kai’s memory from behind the fireball that flew at her outside the gates of Ushai.
Kai’s attention snapped back to the queen as she swept down the stairs toward them, her gown and gate graceful and flowing like a river. She placed her hand warmly on Pura’s shoulder.
“I thank you for rescuing this one and bringing her to us. It pains me to think of losing even one of our kind.”
Pura bowed her head respectfully.
The queen turned to Kai. “I am Queen Airi Shigetsu. This is General Geisa.” The queen motioned to the tall woman, who was staring frostily at Kai from the dais. “From what I have heard, you have been through quite an ordeal to get here, daughter. Words of your bravery and endurance have traveled before you.”
Kai bowed her head, tongue-tied, blowing a loose lock of hair from her forehead. The queen paused slightly, cocking her head for a moment before continuing.
“But tell me, your wounds seem fresh.” She looked at Pura sharply. “Were you not given medical care at our camp?”
“We were attacked on the way here, Your Majesty, “ Pura explained.
“What?” The word cracked like a whip.
“They rode giant golden eagles,” Pura said. “So I assume they were sunburners. The attack definitely happened on Miinan soil. Kai had the interaction with them. She might know what they were after.”
“Tell me about your attackers,” the queen commanded, turning her gaze on Kai.
Kai was mesmerized by the queen’s ice-gray eyes. They were so cold. Kai felt as if they bore icy holes into the very center of her. Yes, she could see how this queen could live up to her reputation.
“Kai?” Pura asked, concerned.
They expected her to say something. Blushing, Kai found her tongue. “Yes. Eagles. We were nearing Kyuden when I was knocked from the harness. I did not see what caused it, but I assume it was one of the men. I fell, and would have died, but my powers saved me somehow.” For some reason, Kai felt hesitant to share the full extent of how her powers had manifested. Her mother’s words echoed in her head. Her moonburners are only a weapon to her.
“I fell into the river. When I made my way to the shore, there were two men. They had golden hair. They tied my hands behind my back, kicked me, and forced me to drink something bitter. They . . . they wanted to know the location of a facility, where they said you were was holding their brothers.”
The queen jerked back almost imperceptibly, her nostrils flaring. General Geisa’s dark gaze blackened further. There was something to the sunburners’ questions, after all. The queen’s seishen had risen from the throne and flapped its wings lazily, landing on the queen’s shoulder. The way it moved through the air was eerie.
“What did you tell them?” The queen asked.
“The truth. That I knew nothing, and that I was not a master moonburner. They seemed to believe me, but one of them wanted to kill me, so that I could not report their whereabouts to you. And then Pura intervened. She hit one with a fireball, but they escaped.”
“Thank you for your tale. We will find these lawless men and ensure no other citizens are attacked.” The queen turned to Geisa. “General. See that it is done.”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Geisa said, bowing slightly, eyes still on Kai.
The queen took Kai’s hands in her own. They were as cold as ice, though the queen’s words were warm.
“Transitions can be difficult. But the citadel is your home now. You need want for nothing here. If you do, please do not hesitate to call on me. I consider the moonburners to be my daughters,” the queen said, squeezing Kai’s hands.
“Thank you,” Kai said, stifling her urge to yank her hands from the other woman and run from the room.
Kai slept through the following day and into the next night. In her fitful dreams, great beasts of the air clashed with claws and talons, and a man with golden hair chased her.
When she finally awoke, a white-liveried nurse hurried to her side, checking her wounds. Kai’s ribs and face were sore, but the nurse assured her she had no broken bones. Quitsu stretched out on the foot of her bed, showing his sharp teeth in a big yawn.
“He refused to leave your side,” the nurse said, chuckling.
Kai sat up in her bed and devoured a meal of rice, dried fruit and warm nutty bread.
“You look like hell,” Quitsu observed, examining her bruised face.
“We can’t all be naturally cute and fluffy,” she said, mussing his fur.
“Isn’t that the truth,” he retorted, turning and smoothing his fur with his rough tongue.
A young woman in a light blue uniform sat down with a bounce on Kai’s bed.
“I’m Maaya,” the girl said. Her silver hair was gathered in two braids behind each ear, giving her a youthful look. She had big eyes, a button nose, and a grin on her face that spoke of mischief. She clearly had no shame in the gap between her two front teeth. Kai liked her immediately.
“I’ve been assigned to show you around,” Maaya said. “I have heard so much about y
ou, Kai. You are already a legend.”
A legend? “All I did was manage to not get killed,” Kai said.
“Yes, but that’s pretty remarkable, don’t you think? You survived days alone in the desert, killed a manga cat with only a stick, survived a fall from a koumori without a scratch and fought off two sunburners single-handedly? Pretty impressive,” she said as she ticked them off on her fingers.
Kai considered this. “I didn’t fight off two sunburners single-handed. If Pura hadn’t been there, I’d probably be dead. And in the desert . . . I had a lot of help.” She ruffled Quitsu’s ears affectionately.
“But it’s nice to meet you,” Kai said. “This is Quitsu.”
“I know. Your seishen is so handsome,” she said, eying Quitsu wistfully. “You can pet him if you want,” Kai said.
Maaya looked at Kai as if she had just offered to fry up Quitsu for breakfast.
“She most certainly may not!” Quitsu said.
Hearing Quitsu’s voice, Maaya practically fell off the bed in shock. “I’ve never heard one talk,” she said.
“What?” Kai asked, confused. “He talks all the time.”
“Yes, to you. Seishen almost never speak when others can hear them though. Those without seishen are not deemed worthy.”
“Is that true?” she asked Quitsu. He sat silently, unwilling to repeat his breach of decorum.
“Great,” Kai said.”He already takes himself way too seriously.”
“I’m in charge of showing you around the citadel. I will show you to your quarters, to your classes and to the dining hall. Pura said I’m to make sure you have everything you need.” Maaya grabbed Kai’s hand and pulled her to her feet.
“Right now?” Kai asked. “It’s the middle of the night.”
Maaya looked puzzled for a moment. “That’s right, they said you are from Kita. You wouldn’t know. In Miina, day is night. As in, everyone sleeps. Night is day, when everyone works and we attend classes.”
“That’s crazy,” Kai protested.
“No, it’s not. Moonburners are nocturnal. It is when we draw our power, when we are closest to the goddess. Don’t you ever have trouble sleeping at night?” Maaya asked.
“Yes,” Kai admitted. “I just always thought I was strange. Doesn’t everyone else mind sleeping during the day, though?”
“I don’t think so. It’s been like this for so long, I doubt anyone remembers any other way.”
Maaya grabbed Kai’s hands again with a friendly camaraderie that put Kai at ease. “Let’s go.”
Kai donned the gray tunic and leggings that had been laid out for her, and they set off.
Maaya didn’t seem to mind being designated as Kai’s tour guide. “I was excused from classes,” she said, in a conspiratorial tone.
As they walked out of the hospital ward into the night air, filled with lingering warmth from the summer afternoon, Maaya happily spouted off an encyclopedia worth of facts about the Lunar Citadel.
“And that’s a statue of Hamaio the Luminous, one of the first queens of Miina. She is said to be a direct descendant of Tsuki,” Maaya said, pointing to a nearby marble figure.
Kai fell in behind Maaya and let her cheerful narration wash over her. The citadel was a massive white fortress, with dozens of white-walled and black tile-roofed buildings, stone walls, hidden gardens and cobblestone courtyards. It sat on an impressive hill nestled next to a waterfall where Kyuden’s Nozuchi river plunged onto limestone rocks below. It was built, according to Maaya, in alignment with the phases of the moon.
In the center was the throne room and the queen’s quarters, in a tall central tower that stood stark and white in the moonlight. The courtyard surrounding the tower was divided into sections: the Koumori landing grounds, a garden shrine to Tsuki with ornamental ponds, a sparring ground and gardens where food was grown for the citadel’s inhabitants.
Then came a ring of buildings: libraries, residence halls, classrooms, stables, the dining hall and kitchen, and the Koumori rookery. Only one other tower stood as tall as the queen’s, on the outer edge of the circle.
“That is the astronomy tower. The Oracle lives there,” Maaya explained, her voice hushed. “I’ve never been up there, but it’s supposed to be built in an astronomically significant spot.”
“The Oracle. Pura mentioned her. Oracle as in, sees the future?” Kai asked.
“Oh yes. The Oracle has saved the moonburners in many battles and has forecast disease and drought. She is one of our most precious resources.”
As they passed the sparring ground, Kai stopped, drawn by the movement. A round circular ring cordoned off in rope was illuminated by winking silver globes hanging unaided in the air. A group of girls in sky-blue uniforms like Maaya’s stood around the ring, cheering on two combatants.
The two in the ring were locked in a bitter battle of hand-to-hand combat, landing punches and kicks that seemed like they would break bone. The bigger of the two girls finally finished her opponent with a knee in the stomach and a strong right hook. She turned from the fight and caught sight of Kai and Maaya.
“Can’t wait to get in the ring, new girl?” she called, her chest heaving from the fight. “Do you think because you can take a manga cat down that you’re too good for the rest of us?”
“We’re fine!” Maaya called cheerfully, pushing Kai along. “Nice fight.” “Who was that?” Kai asked, looking over her shoulder.
“Chiya,” Maaya replied, walking briskly until they were out of sight of the ring. “She is the toughest samanera in our class. Everyone says she will go through her trials soon.”
“The toughest what?” Kai asked.
“Samanera. It’s the intermediate level of training. Novice, samanera, master. The trials to become a master moonburner are supposed to be brutal. Those who go through them are sworn to secrecy, so the samanera who come after them don’t know what they will be facing.”
“That sounds awful,” Kai said.
“It is the highest honor a daughter of the moon can obtain. To serve her country and Tsuki, to be a master moonburner. You’ll see. You’ll want it. No matter what it takes.”
A bell tolled in the distance, breaking off Maaya’s explanation.
“That’s the class bell. We have four classes each night. The third class just finished. I am supposed to take you now to the armory to meet the headmistress to get your schedule.”
Maaya grabbed Kai’s hand and they ran across the courtyard.
Kai left her meeting with Nanase with a list of four classes, a room assignment, and a charge to “serve the Goddess well.” Nanase was just as intimidating the second time around.
“She and that bird of hers really need to lighten up,” Quitsu said as they wound their way out of the maze of offices in the teaching wing.
“Quitsu!” Kai scolded, trying not to smile.
“Seriously. I cracked a joke and that bird didn’t even ruffle a feather.” “What do you mean you cracked a joke?” Kai said. “You didn’t say a word
in the meeting.”
“Oh,” Quitsu said. “Seishen can communicate with other seishen telepathically.”
“What?” Kai stopped in her place. “You can read each other’s minds?”
“No, thank the goddess, or that bird would have pecked my eyes out,” Quitsu said. “We can project thoughts to each other. Only if we want to.”
Kai started walking again. “What other super-secret seishen powers do you have that I should know about?”
“We can become incorporeal.”
“Speak Kitan please.”
“Well, technically, it’s a Miinan dialect now.”
“Whatever, Quitsu. “ Kai rolled her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“We can walk through walls if we want to. Or become invisible.”
“Wow.” Kai said. “Anything else?”
“We can see in the dark.”
“Okay, some of these might come in handy. Anything else?”
“We
don’t shed?” Quitsu offered.
“Duly noted.”
After taking two wrong turns and pleading with a servant to show her the way, Kai and Quitsu finally made it to her room. It was small and windowless, but it was her own. It had clean white walls, worn wooden floors and a shaggy blue carpet set with a moon and star pattern.
A small bed was nestled in the corner and topped with a fluffy blanket of goose feather. Next to it sat a small wooden nightstand. A dresser with several sets of identical gray novice uniforms and a desk and wooden chair finished off the space.
The room was lit by two glowing orbs like those she had seen all around the citadel. She still hadn’t figured out how they floated or stayed constantly lit.
“I guess this is home,” she said, sitting on the bed, bouncing a few times to test it.
Quitsu jumped on the bed and surveyed the room disdainfully. “Where is my bed?”
“Hmm, yes, I’m surprised they don’t have some sort of throne for you. I guess we’ll have to share.” She grinned. “Unless you want to take the rug.”
“Maybe you should take the rug . . .”
“In your dreams, foxy,” she said, ruffling his ears.
The last bell sounded, and Kai settled into bed, acutely aware that the sun was just beginning to rise outside.
“Sleeping in the daytime. This will take some getting used to,” she mused.
“I guess that’s why they don’t give us a window,” Quitsu said.
Kai murmured her assent before her exhaustion quickly pulled her down into slumber.
The next evening, the ringing of the first bell woke Kai from her leaden sleep. Maaya had said that the first bell rang one hour before the first class of the day.
She and Quitsu wasted a precious ten minutes finding their way to the dining hall, but finally located it. As they entered the room filled with silver-haired women in gray, light blue and navy uniforms, heads swiveled their way and the buzz of conversation dimmed. The sound of whispering quickly took its place.
