by Claire Luana
“I think you are interpreting it wrong. You’ve been wrong before,” Queen Airi said, coldly.
“Yes,” the Oracle hesitated. “But, in those instances, there were many paths set before me. In this, I see a night of no moon and a day of no sun.”
“A new moon, and an eclipse. My scholars have already interpreted this. It is the perfect chance to strike at the sunburners unaware.”
“Yes,” the Oracle said. “I do think it means that. But I see more. I see no more moon. And no more sun,” she emphasized each word. “If you continue on your current path, I see the end. Of the burners. The sunburners, yes. But the moonburners too.”
The queen turned from the Oracle, pacing the floor.
“You must be wrong,” Geisa said. “We have prayed to the goddess about our plan and she has assured us of your queen’s ultimate victory.”
“I fear the queen’s ultimate victory will mean our ultimate defeat,” the Oracle retorted.
The words reverberated in Kai’s head, so alike the words of the prophecy the Oracle had given her months before. Were they related?
“Pardon me if I do not take your hunch over the assurances of the goddess,” the queen said.
“Then what do you need me for?” the Oracle snapped.
Geisa stepped forward, leveling a gaze at the Oracle. “I have been asking myself the same question.”
The Oracle said nothing, merely glaring at the taller woman. The queen turned, waving Geisa down.
“The fact is, the people trust you, Roweni. They hear your prophecies and it gives them comfort. And so you remain useful. But do not deceive yourself that your gift gives you power. We are all Tsuki’s vessels, even myself. And there are ways to make sure you remain . . . cooperative.” The queen stepped close to the Oracle and stroked her tiny seishen with one perfect finger.
The Oracle stepped back, grabbing the owl and cradling her in the crook of her arm. “Are we done here?” the Oracle asked stiffly.
“One more time, Roweni. The date of the eclipse? You are certain of it?”
“The day following the spring equinox,” the Oracle said.
“Then our path is clear. I will use the day without sun to bring an end to the sunburners once and for all.”
The Oracle strode from the temple. Kai held her breath, looking silently for an escape route. She did not think she could extricate herself from her hiding place without being spotted. She would need to wait until the queen and Geisa left.
The queen turned to Geisa, her shoulders sagging. “Why must everyone be so difficult?” she asked.
“People always resent the powerful. She does not understand the weight you carry on your shoulders. She does not have the vision you do.”
A small smile flitted across the queen’s face. “You always know how to make me feel better.”
“It is time, Your Majesty,” Geisa said.
Time for what? Kai mouthed to Quitsu.
He shrugged.
Geisa pulled several items from behind the altar and set them on the polished floor. Kai raised her head slightly to try to make out what they were.
“We are so close to everything we have worked for. We must make sure her blessing is behind us in these final days,” Geisa said.
“Proceed,” the queen said.
Geisa lit the candles in the room with moonlight, causing them to flare around the temple. Geisa handed the queen her dagger and a shiny silver bowl. Geisa picked up a small cage from the floor and pulled a delicate gray koumidi from it. Kai and Quitsu exchanged another look of alarm as the koumidi clicked and cried, struggling weakly in Geisa’s strong hand. The queen handed back the knife and Geisa, without ceremony, slit the koumidi’s belly, pouring the blood and entrails into the waiting silver bowl.
Geisa began to chant in a language Kai had never heard. The air in the room filled with vibration and a buzz of energy. Kai was frozen where she crouched, heart beating wildly in her throat, eyes locked on the tiny koumidi carcass.
A flash of silver light burned across the room.
Kai squeezed her eyes shut, but still the light burned the inside of her eyelids. The temperature in the temple dropped. She shivered.
When Kai opened her eyes, she could hardly believe what she saw. Standing before the queen and Geisa was a woman, an impossibly tall woman in flowing robes of crimson and gray. She filled the room, her head nearly brushing the ceiling. Her long black hair flowed around her as if a wind danced through the temple, but Kai felt none. The woman’s face was blurry, as if looking at it through rain on a window. Her eyes glowed with the light of the full moon.
“My daughters.” The woman’s voice reverberated through the temple, sounding in several octaves.
The queen and Geisa had fallen to their knees in worship. “Tsuki. You honor us with your presence,” Geisa said. “Rise. What news do you have for me?”
“Our opportunity to defeat the sunburners draws near,” the queen said. “The spring equinox will bring an eclipse. We will lure them close and then strike when they are defenseless. We will capture as many of them as we can.”
“A bold plan,” the goddess said. “But capture? You say capture, not kill?” “The sunburners do not deserve the sweet ease of death. We have something planned for them much more fitting than death. They deserve to suffer,”
Geisa said, head bowed reverentially.
“Suffering,” the woman said, as if her mouth was salivating at the thought. “This pleases me.”
“We ask only your blessing for the preparations and battle to come.”
“You have it,” the goddess said. “But these great deeds will require great sacrifice. Before the spring equinox, you must bring me a true sacrifice. Using that blood, I will craft your victory.”
“It will be done,” Geisa said.
The huge woman vanished, leaving the air limp and drained like after a rainstorm.
Kai’s dreams that night were troubled. The statue of Tsuki in the temple came alive and crushed her beneath its stone foot, wild hair waving in the nonexistent wind. The queen reached into the Oracle’s chest and pulled out her heart, putting it into a silver cage while it still beat. Moon and sunburners sat like pieces on a goa board; and she lost piece after piece until only a dark queen remained.
She blinked her eyes in the darkness of the room.
Quitsu had laid down next to her, and she threw her arm over him, pulling his furry warmth to her chest, burying her nose in the soft fur between his ears.
“What the hell was that,” she whispered.
“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “It wasn’t what I expected the goddess to be like.”
“No,” Kai said, leaning up on her elbow. “I thought Tsuki was an extension of the earth. I expected her to be . . .” She searched for the words.
“Peaceful? Gentle? Not a bloodthirsty vision from a nightmare?”
“Right,” Kai said. “I feel like it must be some sort of mistake. That what we saw wasn’t Tsuki. Maybe she was . . .”
“Tsuki’s evil sister?” Quitsu asked.
“Something else,” she said. “The blood . . . asking for a true sacrifice? I’ve never heard of Tsuki worship that involved killing. Who are they going to sacrifice?”
“I don’t know,” Quitsu said.
“And why do they want to capture the sunburners? What do they have planned for them?”
“I’ve never felt bad for a sunburner before,” Quitsu remarked. “But there is a first time for everything. We can’t let it happen. Can we?”
“How could we stop it?” Kai wondered. “Who would believe us?”
She curled back around Quitsu, her thoughts filling with despair. She was just a novice who couldn’t moonburn. What could she do?
Kai dragged herself to the breakfast table, sitting down with a heaviness she felt in both body and spirit. Even Emi looked concerned.
“Are you all right?” Maaya asked.
“Yes,” Kai said, forcing herself to d
own some porridge. “I just haven’t been sleeping well.”
Quitsu flicked his tail at her.
“Or at all,” she muttered.
“I’ve seen it before,” Stela said. “Classic case of studying too hard.”
“I wish that was the problem,” Kai said. “Do you ever get the feeling that they don’t tell us everything that’s really going on at the citadel?”
The other four girls looked at Kai for a moment and then burst out laughing. When the peals of laughter subsided, Leilu spoke first.
“Sorry, sorry. You were serious. Of course they don’t tell us even half of what is going on.”
“Doesn’t that bother you?” Kai asked with a hint of annoyance.
“Sometimes,” Leilu said.
“Often,” Emi chimed in.
“But that’s how it works. We’re soldiers. Our job is to get our orders and carry them out. We aren’t charged with asking questions,” Leilu said.
“But what if we were being led down . . . a bad path. A destructive path, that could lead to a lot of death. Wouldn’t we have a right to know? To have an opinion?” Kai asked.
“You can’t have every soldier second guessing every strategic decision made by the generals. They have to make difficult decisions all the time, even sending burners to their death,” Leilu explained.
“I agree with Leilu,” Maaya said. “But, I suppose if we were being lied to, that might be another thing. Why are you asking this? Is there something that is bothering you?”
Kai hesitated, trying to imagine explaining all she had heard and seen last night.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.”
“It sounds like you are in desperate need of some fun,” Stela said. “Lucky for you, there’s some fun scheduled for this weekend.”
“Another stealthy trip into town?” Kai asked.
“No, the festival,” Maaya said.
“The festival?” Kai asked blankly.
“I always forget what a country bumpkin you are,” Emi said. “The Longest Night Festival. The winter solstice? The most holy day for moonburners?”
“It’s almost the winter solstice?” Kai asked. She had completely lost track of the weeks.
“It’s tomorrow,” Maaya said. “And every year there is a big party with food and music and dancing.”
“And sake,” Stela said, raising her eyebrows. “Your favorite.”
“I don’t have anything to wear . . .” Kai protested, but her friends were already making plans.
While the thought of participating in the moonburner solstice festival for the first time raised Kai’s spirits slightly, she couldn’t help but think with a pang of regret about her former life. While they could never celebrate a moonburner holiday while living in Kita, her parents had tried to make it special by decorating their house with candles and cooking all of Kai’s favorite foods. She remembered falling asleep in front of the fire full of dumplings and honeycakes. She wished her new life didn’t mean that those old joys were lost. When had everything gotten so turned around?
Lessons were cancelled the following night on account of the Longest Night Festival. Maaya and Emi filed into Kai’s room, tossing a bag of garments on her bed.
“You both look incredible,” Kai marveled, taking in the colorful silk dresses and obis they wore.
Emi looked the most striking, as usual, in a black and silver dress that complimented her svelte figure and silver hair. Its scooping neckline exposed her ample bosom. Kai never would have been able to hide as a boy for seventeen years with Emi’s figure, she thought ruefully.
Maaya looked stunning as well, in a dress of burgundy. It had a tight-fit-ting bodice that showed off her tiny waist before flowing to a full skirt. Her hair was down around her face, rather than in her usual braids, and she wore a burgundy stain on her lips that matched her dress.
“Maaya you look like a different person,” Kai said with admiration.
Maaya grinned, the gap in her teeth bringing back some of her girlish charm. “Thanks. I bought the dress especially for this.”
“And what do I look like, boiled cabbage?” Emi said, hands on her hips, feigning injury.
“You always look amazing,” Kai said. “And you know it.”
“We get tired of looking at you sometimes,” Maaya echoed.
“If only there were going to be some eligible men at this party,” Emi said.
“If only it mattered,” Kai said. “It’s not like you could do anything with one if you found him.”
Emi flopped on the bed dramatically. “This life of chastity just doesn’t suit me. It’s a waste.”
Kai snorted. Maaya said nothing, her gaze distant for a moment.
“What have you brought me?” Kai asked. “Will anything fit?”
They poured the garments out of the bag onto the bed and pawed through them, discarding a few obvious non-contenders. Kai’s eyes kept falling back to a deep purple dress.
“Put it on,” Emi ordered.
Kai obliged, and through she had no mirror, she knew that it looked good. It was made of a soft chiffon fabric that she kept wanting to run her hands along. It was gathered at one shoulder, with a long drape of fabric flowing over the shoulder, down to the floor. Emi wrapped a light purple obi decorated with silver herons in flight around Kai’s waist. It tightened the dress around her, giving her muscular figure some semblance of femininity.
“Perfect,” Maaya breathed. “You look stunning.”
Even Quitsu nodded quickly to her from his perch on the desk in the corner of the room. As the dress was sleeveless, Kai couldn’t strap her dagger to her arm as she normally did. She examined the dress, trying to figure out a spot to stash the dagger.
“Just leave it,” Emi said. “We’ll be in the citadel the whole time. And it ruins the look.”
Kai hesitated, but left the dagger on the desk.
Next, Emi pinned up Kai’s hair, muttering all the while about how desperately Kai needed a haircut. It was true, her short cut had grown out just below her ears and had no semblance of a style. It just hadn’t been a priority.
When she was finished, Emi stood back with Maaya, admiring their handiwork.
“Sometimes I surprise even myself,” Emi said with approval.
“Doesn’t Quitsu get to dress up?” Kai asked as they opened the door to leave.
He hissed, backing into the corner.
“Kidding, kidding,” Kai said. “Come on, furball.”
Kai marveled at the transformation of the citadel as they made their way to the garden behind the temple, where the festival was held. The courtyards and walkways were strung with lights and bright paper lanterns in twinkling constellations. Flowers had seemingly sprung up from the cobblestones and walls of the whitewashed buildings.
“How do they do this?” Kai asked, taking it all in.
“The staff works for days preparing it all behind the scenes. The food is delicious too.”
“This is my favorite day of the year,” Maaya said, face upturned, basking in the lantern light.
As they reached the garden where the festival was held, Kai was greeted with even more marvels. There were orbs hanging along the edge of the garden, giving off a warmth that banished the winter chill from the air. Lights were strung everywhere, in the trees, along the paths. There were tiny flashes of light in the sky, so fast Kai almost missed them as she turned her head to catch a glimpse.
“What are those?” she asked.
“Sparkbugs,” Maaya said. “Mistress Adiru grows them special and hatches them for the festival every year.”
“They are the only bugs I don’t find totally creepy,” Emi said, as one alighted briefly on her hand and then took off again.
There were tables laden with foods that Kai had never seen before: grilled fishes, tiny pastry cakes, rice rolls delicately stuffed with fresh fish, vegetables and other delectables.
“These are ma favobite,” Emi said, speaking around the tw
o rice rolls she stuffed into her mouth.
And the people. Kai had never seen the moonburners dressed so extravagantly. They were robed in dresses of every color and cut, disguising their deadly military precision under a cloak of femininity. There were many faces she did not recognize, as well, citizens of Kyuden who didn’t have the trademark silver hair of a burner, men and women mingling and chatting with the citadel’s inhabitants.
Music was drifting from one of the corners of the garden, and Kai recognized the musicians just as Stela and Leilu found them.
“Is Rox’s band playing?” Kai asked.
“Yes!” said Stela, looking phenomenal in a chartreuse dress that highlighted her almond skin.
“I told Nanase that I had the perfect band, and she had the staff hire them! It could be a big break for them, there are a lot of important people here.”
Leilu, in a flowing rose-colored dress covered in a tiny golden-leaf pattern, pulled a little bottle from the back of her obi.
“Shall we?” She winked.
Kai groaned, but followed the other girls to a less-crowded corner of the courtyard, closer to the band.
Kai took a quick swig of the fiery liquid and passed it to Maaya, who was staring at the band with the intensity of a falcon locked on its next meal.
“Maaya,” she said, nudging her.
“Huh?” Maaya said, attention swinging towards Kai. “Oh.” She grabbed the bottle and took a sip, eyes still on the band.
Kai and Emi exchanged looks and Emi shook her head, lips pursed. Not good.
The night swirled around them, filled with vibrant colors, laughter, music, and dancing. Kai lost track of time, enjoying the company of friends, and even dancing with a few men who braved entering their circle. While most men went straight for Emi, Kai didn’t mind. She had never had such a wonderful time. She hoped the night stretched on forever. The only damper was the disappearance of Maaya and Atsu, to Rox’s annoyance and Emi’s concern.
As Kai came back breathless from a stretch of dancing, the crowd parted for a tiny figure flanked by a taller one, still in a master moonburner uniform. Kai realized almost a beat too late that it was the queen and Geisa.
