by Claire Luana
The elder peered at the little fox with its eerie red eyes. “I could never say no to my seishen. Fine. Take it. But you must take every precaution. You will face many obstacles on your path. The tengu and their followers will do everything in their power to stop you from reaching your destination.”
“Their followers?” Emi asked.
Hiro nodded. “Colum told me that the tengu that came after us in the woods were…created.”
Kai grimaced in dismay. “Created by who?”
“Since the time of the first split between burners, the Order of the Deshi has lurked in the shadows, sowing seeds of discord on the tengu’s behalf. They have waxed and waned in numbers over the years, but they never disappeared completely,” the elder said. “They have powerful blood magic at their disposal. You will need to be careful.”
“Feathers here is right,” Colum said. “I tussled with this Order many years ago and almost didn’t survive.”
“So we have crazed demon-worshipers to contend with too?” Emi said. “That’s great. How are we supposed to know who to trust?”
Kai’s eyes widened. “Geisa.”
“Obviously we can’t trust her,” Emi said.
“No, Geisa must be part of the Order. Airi was too,” Kai said. “This is great!”
“Maybe you forgot the definition of ‘great’…” Emi began.
Kai waved her quiet. “No, we have Geisa in custody. She can tell us who the other members are, and then we can take them down before they have a chance to raise more tengu or interfere with us finding Tsuki and Taiyo.”
“If we can get her to talk,” Hiro said. “But it’s better than nothing.”
Kai smiled. They had a plan.
Dusk fell and her friends filed outside to sleep on the sweet-smelling grass under the great silver-and-gold tree.
“I need to talk to you,” Kai said softly to Hiro, catching his arm before he slipped out the door of the paneled room where they had eaten. With knowing looks, Ryu and Quitsu disappeared into the warm night air, leaving them alone.
“I need to talk to you too,” Hiro said. “Who should go first?”
“Why don’t you?” Kai said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall.
Hiro straightened, seeming to brace himself. “You were reckless today. You ran off alone. You could have died. Just like when you ran into the farmhouse with the spotted fever. How I am supposed to keep you alive if you barrel ahead with no concern for your safety?”
Kai sucked in a breath and blew it out slowly. Yes, this. It was past time that they talked about this. “Two points. First, yes, I made a mistake today, and when I went in the farmhouse. I need to do a better job of taking the measure of a situation before I get in too deep. So thank you, as my betrothed and friend, for keeping me honest, and I expect you to continue to challenge me in that regard. Second, the more important point. You are not my bodyguard. You are not my father. Your job is not to keep me safe. If I have to spend my married life with you coddling me like a nursemaid afraid I might skin my knee, we will not last the year!”
“Well, if you weren’t almost dying every other day, maybe I wouldn’t have to keep saving you!”
“I am just as capable of protecting myself as you are, Hiro,” Kai said, pulling the raging white light into her qi and swirling it in an arc around her head. It was a flashy but pointless display, but it set her blood singing and her heart pounding. “You have to stop treating me like a child. Like your ward. It undermines my authority and it drives me crazy.”
“What am I even here for then?” Hiro hissed. “You don’t need me to watch your back, and you certainly don’t need me to confide in, since you didn’t think to mention that you had a long-lost sister who was the rightful heir to the Miinan throne!”
“You, lecturing me on keeping secrets?” Kai scoffed. “That’s rich. Coming from the man who is secretly making plans to invade my country.”
“That’s out of line. Jurou mentioned to me that my father was considering it as a last resort. I defended you and told them I would never agree to it.”
“You still should have told me,” Kai said, her voice growing quiet. Hot tears pricked in her eyes.
“And you should have told me,” Hiro said. “If we start keeping secrets from each other, our marriage will be over before it starts. We need to be a team.”
“I’m on Miina’s team,” Kai said. “And I thought you were too. But maybe that was foolish of me. How could I ask you to choose Miina over Kita? Me over your people?
“I don’t have to choose,” Hiro said. “It’s not you or them. It’s both. We want the same thing. Destruction of the tengu. Prosperity for our people. Peace.”
“It’s naive to think that there will never be a conflict. That we’ll never have to choose.”
“So what, you want to throw away what we have as a preemptive move against some future challenge that may never come?”
“No. I don’t know,” Kai said, biting her lip. “But I don’t see how we can marry each other if we can’t trust each other.”
“Then I guess we’re at an impasse,” Hiro said, a thundercloud of emotions playing across his face.
The tears fell now, leaving slick trails down Kai’s cheeks and neck. “I guess so,” she whispered.
Hiro turned on his heel and walked out without another word.
Kai sank down against the stone wall and wept.
Kai awoke a little before sunrise. She had fallen asleep against the wall, and she stood and stretched, trying to work out the worst of the kinks.
She poked her head outside. Her friends’ prone forms rested quietly on the grass under the great tree. Was Hiro there too, or had he gone somewhere else to find some solitude? Her heart twisted at the thought of him, of their fight.
She did need him; he did have a place in her life. And though he drove her crazy with his overbearing protectiveness, she knew she could trust him if it really came down to it. They could work through whatever maze of political and romantic challenges came with their marriage. That is, if she hadn’t ruined everything.
Her eyes were puffy and sore and her throat was raw from crying. The water of the lake shimmered enticingly, like molten silver in the moonlight. She crossed the grass and sat down next to the crystal pond, leaning forward to scoop some of the water into her cupped hands.
“Do not,” a voice said.
Kai froze.
“That water is not for you.” The seishen elder approached, wings tucked against its back. It settled onto the grass next to her, its strange mix of eagle talons and lion paws flexing into the loamy depths of the soil.
“Why not?” Kai asked, leaning back.
“There is something unusual about you,” it rumbled. “I do not know how it will react with the water.”
“Something unusual?” Kai asked.
“Yes, it reminds me of…the creator. You smell of him.”
“I smell of him?” Kai asked, wrinkling her nose. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“To the contrary,” the elder said. “It is an old smell. Like the smell of rain hanging heavy in the air before a storm. A smell of promise. Of things to come.”
“She said I was touched by him,” Kai said, unconsciously fingering the smooth scar on her chest.
“Who?”
“Strange things have been happening to me,” Kai confessed. “In the forest…I did something. To the trees. I don’t know what. And one night I woke up in the spirit world and spoke to an ancient Miinan queen. At least I think I did. And I can’t feel the moonlight anymore. I feel something else. Something raw and powerful and old.” She chuckled ruefully. “Or maybe I’m crazy.”
“No,” the elder said. “Though something is happening to you. Something that stretches the bounds of what a burner’s mind can handle. And if stretched too far, things break.”
She laid her hand across the handprint on her chest.
“May I?” the elder said, its long, creamy wingtip curling ar
ound to hover over the scar.
She removed her hand. “All right.”
The tip of its wing touched her, the feathers a soft tickle against her skin. But that touch was enough. Kai gasped as the scar flared to life in a pulsing throb of white light. Images flashed through her mind, broken bits. Sitting on a sun-drenched patio with a handsome brown-haired stranger. Talk of guardians. A powerful hand connecting with her chest. Falling…falling.
She sprang up as emotions flooded her, breaking the connection between them. “I remember. I talked to him!” Her breath came in ragged bursts, her heart racing at the newly-discovered memories. “He…said he couldn’t help us.”
“He is ancient,” the seishen said. “More ancient than me. In some ways I think he is our world itself. I don’t know if he could interfere if he wanted to. It is like an infection. Once it catches hold, the patient is helpless to influence the outcome. The forces in the body will either fight and live, or succumb and die.”
“So he is going to let his world die?”
“Your defeat is not unavoidable.” It pointed at her scar. “Perhaps he has already helped you.”
“With this?” she asked. “I don’t even know what it is.”
“Think of it as…the light of life. Moonlight and sunlight together mimic it, but it is something more. We are all made of it in small doses. It fuels us. The burners. The seishen. It is the stuff of spirits.”
“This place, it’s stronger here. And you…you’re full of it,” Kai said, letting her senses explore the landscape around her.
“Yes, I was formed by the creator himself, and he made this place. There is more of his power in me, and in this island—its healing waters. The power also made Tsuki and Taiyo, though the gods were formed of specific elements of the creator’s power, so they cannot wield the whole spectrum themselves. Neither can any burner. Except you.”
“I don’t know how to use it though. Or not very well. It’s so strong. I can hardly control it. Can you help me?”
It shook its head. “This is a journey I cannot walk for you.”
She suppressed her frustration and paced the soft grass, its cool blades tickling her bare feet. “The guardians then,” she said. “He said something about guardians. Can you help me find them?”
“You are the guardians. And us. The burners and the seishen.”
“But we’re not enough,” Kai said, sinking back onto the grass in despair. “Maybe back then we were. They were able to push the tengu back into the spirit world. But now? I don’t have the first idea where to start. I couldn’t even make one of those fancy boxes they made! Do you know how to stop the tengu?”
It shook its head. “I do not. I lived in the spirit world while the burners lived in the mortal one. I saw a shadow of such things, but I do not have this type of magic.”
“Can you help us? Fight with us?”
“I will not leave this place,” it said. “My duty is to protect my seishen. And I will not fail.”
“What good will your seishen be if their burners die? We are linked. If the tengu break the rest of the bonds between the worlds, will you sit behind your walls and let them disappear one by one?”
The seishen elder rose to its feet and its wings shot out behind it in a billow of white feathers. “Do you call me a coward for carrying out the sacred duty the creator left to me? I welcomed you into our home, fed you, healed your friend, shared what knowledge I had. Do not think you are entitled to more, whatever precious gift the creator thought to give you. He may have thought you worthy, but I am not convinced.”
Kai shrank back from the elder, knowing she had gone too far. Quitsu streaked in front of her and drew himself up before the giant creature, his silver paws solidly planted, his hackles raised.
“That’s enough,” he said to the elder, tiny but fierce before the immense white seishen.
“Quitsu, my little foxling,” the elder said, settling back onto the ground, folding its wings once more. “Your mouth always was three times bigger than any other part of you. Except perhaps your heart. Now I see where you get it.”
“We’re going to take that as a compliment,” Quitsu said, backing down and sitting on Kai’s feet. “Let’s not forget we’re all on the same side.”
“I’m sorry,” Kai said. “I was hoping…you could give us more help.”
“You are touched by the creator. Trust that he will guide your path,” the elder said. “And I will do what I can. But I cannot abandon my post.”
“I understand,” Kai said.
Kai, Quitsu, and the elder joined the rest of their group around the low table and ate a simple breakfast.
Kai sat by Emi, not ready to speak with Hiro after their argument the night before. Hiro seemed similarly content to pass the morning avoiding eye contact. He was currently absorbed in the banana he was peeling.
Well, that was just fine with her. She wasn’t ready to apologize.
“We must be on our way soon,” Kai said. “I’m anxious to return to Kyuden and the citadel.”
“I can provide you mounts to aid your journey home,” the elder said, and Kai nodded in gratitude. They would have to send moonburners back to the Misty Forest to try to retrieve the mounts they had left behind.
“Am I the only one who remembers that we’re leaving Daarco lost somewhere in the Misty Forest? If he’s even alive?” Emi asked. “I mean, he’s not my favorite person…but it seems a bit callous.”
Kai bit her lip. If Daarco had eluded the tengu, how would they ever find him in the forest? They were likely to get themselves killed trying to locate him.
“Your friend has left the forest,” the elder said. “He is again within my sight. He has returned to your citadel.”
They all let out a breath of relief. Kai couldn’t help a twinge of annoyance. So Daarco had no trouble leaving them all for dead and heading back to the citadel?
But as soon as the thought entered her head, she chided herself. What other choice did he have? Wander the forest hoping to bump into them? He must have rejected that path, just as she so recently had.
“Then it’s settled,” Kai said. “We return to the citadel.”
As they walked outside to the lakeshore, Kai fell into step next to Colum. “What did you take from the seishen elder to make it so angry at you?” she asked, her voice low.
“A cute bunny rabbit,” Colum said. “I took a shine to ‘im while I was here.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad…” Kai frowned.
Colum looked straight ahead. “He was a golden bunny rabbit…”
Kai’s eyes flew open in shock. “You stole a seishen?” Her voice raised an octave.
“I returned him,” Colum said. “Eventually.”
“You’re lucky you weren’t skinned alive!” Kai said.
“It’s not too late,” the elder said from ahead of them without turning.
“No, no,” Kai said, glaring sideways at Colum. “I think we still need him.”
Geisa sat in darkness. Since the queen had come, the conditions of her imprisonment had dramatically improved. The queen, Geisa thought with a sneer. That girl was in far deeper trouble than she could even conceive. She didn’t have half the presence and fortitude Airi had had.
She sighed, as she always did when she thought of Airi. Though the careful shepherding of Airi towards her mistress’s purpose had been a duty assigned to her, they had spent almost twenty years together. While Geisa had kept Airi in the dark about her true task and purpose for coming to Kyuden, it didn’t stop Geisa from growing fond of Airi. From caring about her. She had deserved better than an unceremonial death at the hand of her supposedly loyal followers.
Geisa’s stomach rumbled. It was past time for her dinner. At least they fed her now. Her frame was still painfully thin, but she wasn’t crippled by the weakness that had plagued her when they had fed her only a few times a week. She supposed she should be grateful. Though if she was to spend the rest of her life rotting in this cell, fo
od only extended things unnecessarily.
No. She wouldn’t spend her life in this cell. She fingered the skin on her forearm where she had used her fingernails to draw blood to summon Tsuki. Or rather, the tengu that masqueraded as Tsuki. Yukina. It had been ten years of service before her mistress had deemed her worthy to know its true name. Geisa touched the scab on her arm again. The scab was almost gone, but it was a comforting reminder. Geisa would be free again, and she would enjoy her revenge against the petty insects of this citadel. She would watch their precious world burn.
Noise sounded outside the thick cell door, and she smoothed her hair. Since the queen had come, she had tried to regain her old sense of self, at least when she had visitors. She pasted a disdainful expression on her face. She wouldn’t show weakness.
The dim light from the hallway blinded her as the door opened. She closed her eyes and turned her face, blinking slowly to adjust her pupils. The silhouette at the door was different than her normal guard, thin and slightly stooped. Male. His face was bathed in shadow, backlit against the hallway light.
And then he did a peculiar thing. He stepped inside the cell and closed the door, cloaking the cell in utter darkness once again.
“Does the dark still bother you?” he asked.
His smooth voice froze the blood in her veins. She inhaled sharply.
“I suppose it does,” he said. “Those traits we pick up in our youth follow us through life.”
Geisa’s breathing grew frantic as she tried to pick out where he was in the darkness. Was he approaching? Drawing near? Was he going to touch her?
“The dark is a funny thing,” he said. “We have five senses, but we only ever use our eyes. Take away a person’s eyes, and suddenly they feel very vulnerable indeed.”
Geisa drew her knees against her chest, becoming as small and tightly wrapped as she could. She began counting in her head to soothe herself. It was a trick she had learned in the sunburner prison. It calmed her but allowed her to still listen to his instructions. Allowed her to detach from her body. From what he was doing to it.
