by Claire Luana
Quitsu lay limp and unmoving on the ground, his silver body smoking from the lightning strike. Kai’s vision narrowed to a black pinpoint, every fiber of her screaming in alarm. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think. No, no, no, no.
She dragged herself to his side, arm protesting in pain, rocks and grit digging into her elbows.
“Quitsu,” she choked, tears threatening.
His side was blackened where the lightning had struck him, a starburst pattern across his silver fur. She gathered the leaden weight of his body into her lap. She stroked his fur and drew in moonlight, beginning to probe his body. She couldn’t find any spark of life in him.
Hiro knelt by her side, running his strong hand down her back. “Kai,” he said urgently. “We need to go.”
His voice was a tiny buzzing in her ears, his demand an unwelcome intrusion into her focus. She had to find a way to heal Quitsu. Couldn’t he see that?
“The moonburners are coming,” he said, tugging on her arm. “I’ll carry him, but we have to go.”
Somewhere in her awareness, she could tell that the battle raged on around them.
Hiro ducked as another explosion blasted just feet away from where they knelt. Dust and debris rained over them. Moonburner soldiers drew close to their position.
She continued to explore the pathways of Quitsu’s body with moonlight, trying to find somewhere that she could latch onto with the light.
“We have to get out of here,” Hiro said again. “Or his death will be in vain.”
The royal guard was coming out of the citadel gates. That meant the queen was on the battlefield. A small voice in Kai’s head told her that Hiro was right, that they needed to stand and get to safety. But this voice was only a whisper amongst the resounding, overwhelming need to heal Quitsu. Somehow, she could fix him.
Hiro gently tried to pull Quitsu’s body from Kai’s grasp, and she snarled at him, like an animal protecting her own. A koumori approached, sweeping around for another pass. Kai could see the rider’s gaze, intent upon them, and her arm, poised for the throw.
Kai buried her face in Quitsu’s soft fur, oblivious to the danger. She didn’t want to live without him. At least this way, they would die together.
Seconds ticked by. The killing blow didn’t come.
Kai slowly raised her head and opened her eyes. What she saw amazed her. Before them was a shimmering field of gold undulating in the air. It was covering much of the sunburner force as they retreated. She had never seen anything like it.
“What is that?” she asked, breathless.
Hiro’s face was scrunched in concentration—a bead of sweat ran down his forehead.
“Sunshield,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His voice was laced with strain. “I can’t hold it for long.” Another blast rocked off the shield. The moonburners seemed to be drawn to it. The shock of the remarkable sight drew her back to herself.
“The sun and the moon must shine as one, or all will be undone.” The Oracle’s words echoed in Kai’s mind, and a wild idea sprang to life.
The shield flickered as another blast battered against it. Hiro looked pale. She knew the sunlight in the solar crown must be almost used up, it couldn’t hold much more than he was using. His father and his guards were the last group of sunburners remaining on the battlefield.
Kai reached her hand in her bag and grasped the crown. She opened herself again to the moonlight, streaming through the strangely lit sky of the eclipse. There it was again. The strange golden door. A form she knew was Hiro’s, standing in it.
She said a prayer and quickly linked with Hiro in the way that Pura had taught her.
Hiro’s drooping eyes widened as he realized what she was doing.
Kai pulled in as much moonlight as she could hold and burned it, weaving it down the path that led to Hiro’s shield. She had never burned sunlight, but somehow it seemed intuitive—her qi knew how even if her mind didn’t.
When the moonlight hit the shield, it exploded with light, a white light so pure and clean that it made Kai’s tears flow anew. The power of the sun and moonlight together roared between her, Hiro, and the shield, raw and magnificent.
The shield shot out, growing exponentially, covering the battlefield, separating the sunburners from the moonburners. It was as if all fighting ceased, awed by the sight of the pure, radiant wall of light. Kai and Hiro looked at each other with wide eyes. And then she split the light, dimming the shield only slightly. Hiro’s brow furrowed, but he turned his focus back to the shield. She pulled the light into her, the pure complete spectrum of sun and moon together, and poured it into Quitsu’s body. She flooded every bit of him with energy, praying to Tsuki and Taiyo and every god and goddess who ever lived to save him. His body jerked and spasmed with the power flowing into him.
And then she felt it. His life force was sweet and pure and playful and expanded to fill him, retaking ownership from the white light. She withdrew her stream of light, her breath caught in her throat.
His eyes flickered open.
A choked sob escaped from her, her relief so palpable it was like a living thing.
The brightness of the shield washed out the scene around them, but as Kai looked up from Quitsu with watery eyes, she saw a single bolt of white light shoot into the air. It was the sign they had agreed on. Chiya was in position.
“What . . . are you just sitting around for?” Quitsu rasped.
A giddy laugh bubbled from Kai’s lips. She kissed Hiro on the cheek and started running back from the front line. She grabbed her knife from its sheath as she ran. Right through the sunburner guards. Right past the king’s seishen. Right to the king. As she approached, she withdrew her moonlight from the shield. It winked out.
For a moment, it was as if the world was colored in only black and white, a stark remnant of the bright light that had divided the burner forces. Those on the battlefield stood blinking, clearing their retinas of the residue of the image.
King Ozora’s men looked around for their King. He stood a few paces before them, still as a board. Kai’s dagger was to his throat.
“King Ozora!” a voice cried across the battlefield. It was Chiya. Kai let out a shuddering breath. This plan would not have worked if Chiya hadn’t been in position. It just would have ended up with Kai dead.
Kai had wrapped the king’s arms with hot bands of moonlight, so if he moved too far, he would be burned. She looked up at the eclipse, which was already waning. She only had a few minutes to pull this off, or she would be dead.
“Queen Airi. We are here and ready to talk of a truce,” Kai said.
“What?” the king snarled under her. She tightened her knife.
Kai could see Chiya’s distant form, her strong arm wrapped around the queen’s body. Leilu and Stela flanked her, weapons at the ready, holding the nearby moonburners at bay. Chiya had promised to wrap the queen’s limbs and organs so tightly in moonlight that she couldn’t even draw in a sliver of moonlight.
It seemed to be working . . . the queen was not fighting or trying to burn her way out of Chiya’s grip. Her face was a mask of rage.
“We have fought for hundreds of years,” Chiya said, her voice strong and unwavering. “For so long that no one remembers why. Our monarchs have used the burners as their weapons. Our numbers dwindle to nothing. On the current path, you will destroy us all. We demand that you declare peace, or we will find a king and queen who will.”
The battlefield was silent as Chiya’s words rolled over them.
Kai added her own words to Chiya’s. “You put your petty war in front of the good of your people. You take their crops, their livestock for yourself, and leave them hungry. You slaughter babies, you steal children from their parents, you kill your subjects for having the audacity to love each other. And you exploit us, using us like cattle to be bred. No more. Declare a truce, or we will find rulers who will!”
There was murmuring around the battlefield now
, murmurs of assent and agreement. Kai could see fists that had been tight on swords beginning to loosen, even among the sunburners.
Chiya continued, “What say you, King Ozora? Will you give your people peace, for the first time in your reign?”
Hiro had approached while they were talking, his feet dragging, Quitsu in his arms. His skin looked white and clammy. He fell to one knee as he approached, sitting back on his haunches.
“Father. Your people are tired of death. We’re tired of fighting.” Kai felt some of the radiating tension leave King Ozora’s shoulders.
“I will agree to a truce,” his deep voice rang out over the heads of the gathered people.
A glimmer of hope blossomed in Kai’s chest. They were so close. “And what say you, Queen Airi?” Kai shouted.
Silence hung over the battlefield, a collective holding of breath as they waited to hear what their future would be. The eclipse was almost finished; the sun was shining once again. The queen’s rout of the sunburners had failed. Kai prayed that she would be reasonable. Agree to the truce, Kai thought. No need to know that then the sunburners will arrest you and the regent will charge you with crimes against your country.
Airi’s response rang out, hard and shrill. “I would rather die.”
Kai hardly had time to register Queen Airi’s words when the queen exploded into action. She twisted from Chiya’s grip, elbowing the woman in her swollen stomach. Queen Airi reached a hand up and a bolt of lightning shot from the sky, striking Chiya’s doubled over form. She fell like a stone.
“Chiya!” Kai cried. She released the king and began to run towards the fallen woman.
Chaos broke out, cries and screams and soldiers picking up the fighting where they had left off. Everything was falling apart. Kai was knocked backwards by a sunburner shield swung in her direction at the wrong time.
The queen rose in the air, her white dress whipped around her by an invisible wind. Kai gaped as the queen’s eerie floating form made its way towards them. She threw lightning bolts from her hands as she passed, striking down sunburners and soldiers in her path who tried to flee. The woman must have had a moonlight well of some sort, because the moon had entirely disappeared. The eclipse was over.
But that didn’t stop Queen Airi’s horrible progress. She had almost reached Kai and the king. Kai scrambled to her feet and stood before the king with his guards, knife up, ready to protect him. She’d be damned if she let the queen kill him after he had agreed to peace.
The queen was laughing, her beauty twisted horribly into a gruesome mask. The queen pointed at Kai as she raised her hand to throw a lightning bolt. “You will die first.”
“Stop!” A voice cried from behind them. Kai knew that voice. Its normal kindness was gone, only a hard edge remaining. “Airi, stop this. What has become of you? What has become of my sister?” Kai’s mother stepped forward. She wore a simple gray dress, her hair down around her shoulders, waving in the unnatural breeze. Despite her simple garb and face lined with age, she stood tall and proud. She looked every inch a royal.
Airi faltered, landing on the ground. “Azura?” she asked, her voice very small.
Hanae held her arms out to Airi. “It doesn’t have to be this way. Let’s end this war. Once and for all.”
“But you . . . you died. I saw your body.”
“It was a trick, Airi, a ruse. I didn’t want to be queen.”
“A trick? A trick?” Airi’s voice gained a hysterical edge. “How do I know you are not a trick? An evil, cruel sunburner trick?” She began to rise into the air again, the unnatural wind whipping about her. “This changes nothing! Tsuki has tasked me with the destruction of the sunburners. They must be brought to heel!” Airi raised her arms, and the air crackled with electricity.
Kai closed her eyes in anticipation of the strike, hope dying in her. They had done all they could.
But for the second time that day, it didn’t come. Kai opened her eyes.
The queen, arms still partially raised, wore a look of confusion on her face. She fell to the ground, landing on her knees. An arrow protruded from her chest, blood beginning to pour from the wound, coloring her white dress scarlet. And then another arrow joined it, just a few inches from the first. Kai looked around, searching for the archer.
She caught her eye. Nanase. She lowered her bow, a grim look on her face. Her silver seishen tangled with the queen’s dragon in the sky and bore it to the ground, ripping its throat with its razor sharp talons.
Kai’s mouth hung open. The rest of the battle had stopped again as quickly as it had begun. The moonburners were staring in shock as their queen bled out onto the cobblestones of the street.
Hanae hurried to her sister’s side and knelt, taking her in her arms. “I’m sorry I failed you, sister. I never should have left.”
Nanase approached their party, and the sunburners leveled their weapons towards her. She held up her bow in a sign of submission and lowered it to the ground.
Kai looked at Nanase in utter gratitude, unsure what to say to her.
Nanase dropped to one knee before them. What was she doing? Swearing fealty to the king? This would be a disaster for Miina.
Nanase looked up, calling out in a clear voice that rang across the silence of the courtyard. “I swear fealty to Kailani Shigetsu, daughter of Azura, heir to the throne of Miina.”
Kai looked on in amazement as across the battlefield, soldiers and moonburners bent to one knee before her.
Kai sat eating a breakfast of fruit and spiced rice, leafing through the first of three stacks of reports. Soldiers’ rations, merchant contracts, trade reports, banking sheets . . . she could feel her eyes glazing over. No wonder the queen had gone insane.
“Why do we need a census of the royal forest? It’s a forest. Can’t we just let it be?” Kai asked her mother, who sat beside her at the long polished wooden table.
Hanae flashed her a look. “It’s important to prevent poaching. And to do that, we need to roughly understand the numbers of game in the wood.”
Kai sighed, “I know, I know.”
Kai looked around the beautifully appointed room, still mentally shaking her head with disbelief. The room was decorated in white marble interlaced with cool, gray granite, polished to a shine. A huge mirror hung on one end of the room, making the impossibly long table look as if it went on forever. The thought of hosting a dinner party for enough people to sit at this table terrified Kai.
The other wall bore a long set of windows letting in the light of the setting sun, illuminating low clouds in vibrant colors of pink, purple and orange.
Kai herself wore a dress of soft light blue wool, decorated with silver embroidery that highlighted her silver hair, which now reached down to her shoulders, and was cut so it fell in soft layers against her neck. She hardly recognized herself in the mirror.
“Maybe we should talk about something more enjoyable. Like your coronation tonight?”
At the grimace on Kai’s face, Hanae hurried to the next topic. “Or a royal engagement?”
At that, Kai flushed with both pleasure and embarrassment. She recalled the words King Ozora had spoken to her as he had departed with his retinue two weeks before.
“It’s not every day that I meet a woman who both tries to kill me and sacrifice herself for me in one day. Just the type of woman Hiro needs to keep him in line,” he had said with a wink and a friendly hand on her shoulder.
“I didn’t try to kill you, I just threatened to. Huge distinction,” Kai said.
General Ipan, who stood next to the king, guffawed, his loud laugh warming her. “Already mincing words. She is ready for the crown all right!”
Kai and Hiro had shared a few precious moments together before he had ridden off with his father, promising to return in a month. He had been appointed as the Kitan ambassador to Miina.
Hiro had taken her face in his strong hands and pressed his lips gently to hers. She had leaned into his warm body as her knees grew weak an
d her blood raced through her veins. The kiss set her heart fluttering even in memory. It held the promise of more.
Kai returned to reality as her mother cleared her throat loudly.
“It’s far too early to talk of engagements,” Kai stammered, trying to recover her composure. “There is too much to do. “
“Pace yourself, my darling. You have done so much already,” her mother said gently. “You have repealed the laws regarding lifetime service for moonburners, and allowed moonburners to choose whether to serve or whether to have families or pursue other lives.”
Kai nodded. “I think seven years of service is fair in exchange for training at the citadel. Of course, we hope they will stay longer.”
“And you paved the way for Kitan moonburners to come to the citadel, and then return to Kita when their training is complete.”
“That is true. And our sunburners will be able to train with Kita and return to us. We can’t stay segregated like we are now,” Kai said. “And no more gleaming,” she smiled. “My life would have been very different under these new laws.”
“Both of our lives,” Hanae said.
“We’d still have Father,” Kai said sadly.
Hanae nodded slowly. “Yes. But do not look backwards with regrets. Your upbringing made you who you are. Things unfolded how they were destined to.”
Kai grasped her mother’s hand and squeezed. “I think they did.”
Kai’s coronation that night was resplendent. The great hall was filled with the silvery glow of moon orbs and white string lights that had been added for the occasion. Everyone was dressed in their finest clothes, shades of blue and purple, green and soft grays and browns. Kai was dressed in a white dress covered in swirls of silver thread and crystals. Her hair was done in elaborate braids, and her face had been painted with rouge and kohl. Butterflies flipped in her stomach.
She turned to Quitsu. “How do I look?”
He had been bathed and fluffed; his fur positively glowed silver. He examined her. “Passable.”
She rolled her eyes. “Great. At least I’ll always have you to keep me grounded.”
