The Dragon Songs Saga: The Complete Quartet: Songs of Insurrection, Orchestra of Treacheries, Dances of Deception, and Symphony of Fates

by JC Kang

  Then her fingers went slack on the pipa and the blood rushed from her head. A dark tunnel in her field of vision narrowed. All went black.

  CHAPTER 8

  Conspirators

  Trapped like a rat. Avoiding the sailor’s gaze, Jie ducked back down among the kegs of sulfur bound for Wailian County. It might be used to cure scabies and ringworm, but there was enough here to put every herb store and acupuncture clinic in the North out of business. No, against the Tianzi’s law, someone in Wailian was making firepowder and shipping it south.

  Getting the message to the clan would be difficult now that someone had spotted her. Near the only exit, seven different voices and hurried footsteps of varying lengths and weights echoed in the cargo hold.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just rats?”

  “It would have been a huge rat. No, it’s an intruder.”

  “Inform the quartermaster.”

  Jie sucked her bottom lip. They knew she was here, and there was only one way out.

  Winches and gears creaked. The platform to the main deck clunked up, and the door clanked shut.

  “Fan out,” a male voice called from near the hatch.

  Jie leaned forward from between two kegs and peeked out. Three men congregated near the now-raised platform. Four others searched among the crates and kegs. Shadows danced as they raised and waved their light bauble lamps.

  Until the hatch opened, there was no escape. At least the patches of darkness allowed her to work her way in that direction. As one man turned his head away, Jie scooted over one crate. When another swept his lamp in her direction, she used the arcing shadow to move to the next.

  Child’s play. She could keep this up all morning, if need be. Though if information won wars, the time wasted down here could mean the difference between quelling a rebellion in its infancy, and taking years rooting out a well-established insurgency.

  A large man near the hatch crossed his arms. “We know you are down here. Just save us the trouble and show yourself.”

  Oh, she’d give them plenty of trouble. Unless they suddenly figured out a systematic search method, they’d never find her. Still, precious time slipped away.

  “Damn stowaway,” another muttered.

  So they thought her a stowaway. Better that than a spy. It would get her above deck sooner, which would make escape all the easier, as long as the boatswain didn’t recognize her as one of the boys he’d recruited. Just better not to let these ruffians know she was a girl. Jie ran her hand through dust and grime and smeared her face.

  She then stood and stepped into the light. Lowering her voice, she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll give you all my money. A silver yuan. Just let me out.”

  The large man guarding the hatch favored her with a sneer, exposing a long incisor. “Normally we’d take it, brat. Unfortunately, all the gold in Sun-Moon Palace won’t buy you out of this situation.”

  Since when did a sailor not take a bribe? And what did they have in mind? Jie’s pulse might have ticked up a beat. Or not. Seven men with more brawn than brains shouldn’t be too hard to escape.

  A sailor with a scar on his cheek came up and cuffed her on the side of the head, sending flashes through her field of vision. The stubby fingers of another clamped her shoulder.

  Jie froze, feigning fear.

  “We got ‘im.” Snaggletooth rapped on the door above with a belaying pin.

  The hatch above opened. Standing on the platform as it lowered were two men, one a sailor from the look of his clothes, and a man in robes.

  Fat Nose.

  Or at least that’s what Tian called him. The short sword, which he’d kept hidden in the warehouse, now flashed in his hand. He pointed it at her. “You, boy, what are you doing here?”

  Jie threw her hands up. “I ran away from home.” Hopefully he wouldn’t ask where home was, since Tian, in his usual laconic manner, hadn’t bothered to say where the Wild Orchid had sailed from.

  “What did you see?”

  Jie stared at the floor, pretending to be ashamed. “I ain’t see nothin’. Just some curry-lovin’ brown folk.” Right, she could always tell them she’d travelled with the Ankirans, though it wouldn’t exactly explain why she’d stayed behind when they disembarked.

  With a dismissive wave of his hand, Fat Nose sheathed the sword and turned back to the platform. “Just a stowaway. Not my problem.”

  “One with a high-pitched voice,” Snaggletooth said. “You didn’t even bother to check for weapons.” He nodded toward a thick-necked sailor.

  No Neck patted her down, pausing where no gentleman would. “A girl.” His leer left a stain on her clothes. He continued down, stopping again when his hand found one of her three knives. “What is this?”

  “A knife?” Jie flashed a guilty grin.

  Scarface smacked her on the side of the head again. “You’re in no position to make jokes.”

  Looking at Fat Nose, Snaggletooth harrumphed. “She’s been in the hold for Heaven knows how long. A runaway, who might have seen too much. Nobody will miss her. Save yourself the risk. We’ll gut her.”

  “Afterwards.” Grinning, No Neck slapped Snaggletooth on the back. “Just like that brownie refugee girl whose little body we threw overboard.”

  Rapists and murderers! Jie’s muscles clenched, ready to break free of Stubby Fingers’ grip. Nine men to avoid on her way to the ropes leading out of the cargo hold, though perhaps Snaggletooth and No Neck deserved a knife between their ribs first.

  “She’s just a girl,” Fat Nose said. “Let her go.”

  “Wait.” Scarface held the lamp closer to her face and yanked off her headband.

  Jie shot her hands up to cover her ears.

  “An elf?” Fat Nose cocked his head.

  “Half-elf,” Scarface said. “The one we saw on Ayudra.”

  Stubby Fingers nodded. “Yep. That’s her, all right.”

  “It wasn’t me!” Jie shook her head. She’d never left Hua before. Though trying to convince them might prove difficult, since elves hardly ever left their secluded valley kingdom, nor mated with humans like a certain dastard of a father.

  “Hah! You want us to believe you have an evil twin?” Snaggletooth looked at his companions, who took up his chorus of laughter.

  Jie’s fists squeezed tight. They had to be making this up.

  “It makes sense now.” Stubby Fingers nodded. “She must’ve stowed away when we docked at Ayudra.”

  Snaggletooth turned to Fat Nose. “Mister Jiang, no need to waste your time. We’ll take care of her.”

  Jiang held up a finger. “I don’t think—”

  With a jerk of his hand, Snaggletooth pointed the belaying pin at Jiang. “Our ship, our rules. Now, you can watch if you want—”

  Jie lowered her chin, loosening his grip. With one hand, she seized his wrist and twisted it; with the other, she whipped her third knife out in an arc, slicing Stubby Finger’s wrist tendons. His fingers went limp on her shoulder. Twirling toward the platform, she continued with a backslash through Snaggletooth’s wrist.

  He stood, staring at his lifeless fingers, his belaying pin forgotten in his other hand. Jie swept under that arm, dislocated the elbow over her shoulder, and caught the weapon as he dropped it. Finishing her spin, she stepped on the platform with the knife pointed at Fat Nose Jiang’s flank.

  Thank the Heavens. Without the element of surprise, she wouldn’t have stood a chance. But now, gaffer hooks, belaying pins, and knives swept out from boots and belts. While Stubby Fingers and Snaggletooth held their wounds moaning, the six remaining sailors encircled the platform.

  And exposing her weapon skills would now alert the conspirators that someone might be on to their plans. Time to find out as much as possible. Keeping eyes and ears on the sailors, Jie pressed the tip of the knife into Jiang’s ribs. “Tell me, what are you trying to hide here?”

  “Silly girl, nothing.”

  “By now, you’ve surmised I’m more than a stowaway. Talk.”
Jie pushed the point through his clothes and ran it over bare flesh.

  Jiang yelped. “Okay. I am an inventor.” He nodded toward some crates. “I have the prototype for a new repeating crossbow. I didn’t want any of my competitors to know.”

  And Jie’s father was a pig. Well, he probably was, but… “Why bother when we have muskets?”

  “Muskets have limitations. If it rains. If you need to arc projectiles over your own men.”

  It was almost believable. Might as well play along; make them think this was all about industrial sabotage. “Then the rumors are true. Open one up and show me.”

  Jiang nodded toward Scarface. “Go show her one.”

  Holding his injured wrist, Snaggletooth jerked his head back and forth. “No, that bitch is going to pay!”

  “What’s going on here?” a voice called from above.

  Jie dared a glance. A burly longshoreman stood at the hatch’s opening, hands on his hips.

  “Nothing,” Jiang said. “We will load up soon.”

  “No!” Scarface leaned into the column of light from above. “We have an intruder!”

  Apparently, the two men’s agendas had just reached an impasse, and soon her escape route would be compromised. Stowing her knife, she took one step back and leapt toward Jiang. Pop-vaulting off his back, she snared one of the ropes and climbed hand over hand to the tween deck.

  The longshoreman’s eyes widened.

  Jie flashed a grin and bolted through the other workers toward the steps to the upper deck.

  “Stop her!” the longshoreman yelled.

  One man spun around, too late, and Jie avoided his grasp. Yet two more now blocked her exit. Four came clopping down the steps, broadswords in hand. No easy way out.

  Unless… The oar ports provided several not-so-easy way outs. Even if she could squeeze through, it was a long drop into cold water. The winches groaned behind her, likely meaning Jiang, Snaggletooth, and Stubby Fingers were on their way. Right; freezing sounded more appealing than being gang-raped and murdered. She took a sharp turn toward the closest row of benches and then dove toward the oar port.

  For once, her flat boy’s body proved useful, as she swished through—only to have the hem of her pants catch on the oarlock. She dangled upside down, the drawstring of her pants biting into her waist and hips. Perhaps it was for better, given the narrow rocking space between the hull and the stone dock. The wrong timing would mean being crushed like a cherry. As the gap started to widen, she took a deep breath, drew her knife, and slashed the drawstring.

  Into the water she went, wearing nothing more than undergarments. The frigid water sent a chill to her core, almost stopping her heart. Still, she dove deeper, kicking off the dockside and swimming over toward the next berth. The ship’s crew would be scouring the waterfront for her, and the longer she remained underwater, the more she could confuse them.

  Her lungs burned. At last, she came to stone steps leading from the harbor floor to the top of a dock. She poked her head out and gasped for air, looking back in the direction she’d come. Sure enough, two berths down, the Wild Orchid was at full alert, with sailors running along its dock. It was time to lay low, lest the information about Wailian’s illegal firepowder die with her.

  She looked at the ship docked here, its dark shadow swallowing up the sun’s warmth. The Tarkothi blackship. On deck, a fair-haired man with fine features eyed her. Her chattering teeth rattled her brain. The foreigners may or may not turn her in, but staying in the water meant death by hypothermia. Waving both arms, she floundered.

  CHAPTER 9

  Honor In Question

  Metal tinkled and chimed as Kaiya’s head bobbled in the darkness. Cold seeped into her back, yet warmth cradled her head. The uncomfortable twisting in her stomach seemed to climb higher, almost into her chest. The black in her field of vision faded to a dark orange.

  Heat surged through her. Her eyes fluttered open. Above her, the blurry coffered tile ceiling came into focus as she blinked.

  Luminous blue irises encroached into her field of vision. Prince Hardeep’s tight lips softened into a smile, the air gushing out in a long sigh. “Thank the gods.”

  The warmth around her head…the way his face hovered above hers…she must be lying in his lap. Her belly twisted into tangles worse than her hair on a bad morning. Heavens, how embarrassing. And if someone saw them like this, Prince Hardeep might be executed on the spot. She brought her elbows up under her, trying to sit up.

  “Slowly now.” He placed a hot hand on her forehead.

  She looked around. Still in the main chamber of the concert hall. Alone. With him. Her heart fluttered. “What happened?”

  “You fainted.”

  Heat flared in her cheeks. Her body would choose such an inopportune moment to faint for the first time ever. How mortifying. “For how long?”

  “Only a minute.”

  Thank the Heavens, there—

  He pointed to Yanyan’s pipa, lying on the marble floor just out of arm’s reach.

  “Oh no.” Kaiya covered her gaping mouth. She’d dropped it. Dropped a priceless antique, a treasure of her people. She scuttled across the floor and picked it up. Fingers trembling, she ran her hand across the smooth surface of the back. Thank the Heavens, it seemed undamaged.

  Hardeep shuffled over on his knees and eased it from her stiff fingers. “Don’t worry. The legends claim it survived mighty Avarax’s wrath. I doubt such a short drop would do anything to it.”

  Hopefully. Then again, she should’ve never touched it in the first place. Never been in this room in the first place. Never been alone with a man, a foreign man. If anyone found out, Father might marry her off to the most domineering lout of a lord in the realm, one who would make General Lu seem chivalric. No telling what he’d do to Hardeep. Perspiration threatened to seep through the make-up on her forehead.

  Setting the pipa on the chair, he clasped her hand. “It’s fine. Trust me.” His other hand reached behind her neck, and he leaned in.

  Heat surged through her. Heavens, he was close. And it felt so right. His eyes were so kind. And he knew music. Of course he was right. The pipa was fine, and as long as nobody walked in—

  “Unhand the princess!” Chen Xin shouted from the door.

  Heavens, no! The compromising position would give rise to rumors faster than weeds sprouting after a spring rain. Kaiya glanced over Hardeep’s shoulder. Outside the door, the Appointments Ministry secretary looked as if he would faint. Chen Xin and Zhao Yue pushed past him and charged in, blue robes swishing and curved dao swords rasping from their scabbards in deadly arcs. The dragons etched into their burnished breastplates appeared to move with a life of their own—their magic, imbued by master craftsmen, would strike poor Prince Hardeep with shock and awe. Even if he had a weapon, he wouldn’t stand a chance against that magic, let alone against two of the best swordsmen in the realm.

  She had to save him. Pulling his hands for leverage, she staggered to her feet and moved to interpose herself between the deadly blades and her prince.

  He resisted her pull. His single footstep blocked her path and spun her around. So clumsy on his part; the guards would certainly slay him on the spot. With her feet crossed, it took all her balance to keep from falling.

  The imperial guards closed the gap in the blink of an eye, weapons flashing in a synchronous dance of death. Hardeep released her hand and leaped forward into the storm of blades. Kaiya could only stare in horror.

  Or amazement.

  If he were a poet, his graceful movement would have been his poetry. He dodged Chen Xin’s thrust and ducked Zhao Yue’s hack, twirling and spinning like a ribbon dancer. In a split second, he had positioned himself so that Chen Xin stood between him and Zhao Yue.

  At that moment, he turned his head and winked at her. His blue eyes glittered. Could he be possibly enjoying himself? When one misstep would mean decapitation? Her chest constricted, seizing her breath.

  Chen Xin attacked
with a horizontal slash, shredding through Hardeep’s sleeve and cutting across his arm. No! Kaiya covered her mouth. Chen Xin followed with a downward chop, but Hardeep stepped inside and caught Chen Xin’s hands. With a deft twist, he wrenched the dao away. Undaunted, Chen Xin drew a dagger while Zhao Yue slipped between them.

  “Stop!” Kaiya shook off the dread fascination. If she didn’t do something, someone would get seriously hurt. And unbelievably, from the look of it, it wouldn’t be Prince Hardeep. He had taken on not one, but two imperial guards and suffered only a cut. His shorn sleeve didn’t even show sign of blood. She spoke again, invoking a tone of authority practiced since childhood. “Chen Xin, Zhao Yue, disengage. That is my command.”

  Zhao Yue held his sword in a defensive position as he took two steps back.

  Lowering his dagger, Chen Xin cast a sidelong glance at her. “Dian-xia, are you all right? This man did not try anything inappropriate?”

  Heat rose to Kaiya’s cheeks. They had done many inappropriate things that afternoon, though probably not along the lines of Chen Xin’s question. She shook her head. “No, Prince Hardeep has been a perfect gentleman. He just asked me to play a piece of music for him.” Straightening her carriage, she strode over to the prince and held up his wounded arm. “Are you all right?”

  Lines formed across his forehead as he looked first at it, then at her. “Yes. It looks like my shirt is the only casualty.”

  Kaiya parted the tear. No blood at all on the smooth skin over his toned muscle. She dropped his arm and covered her gawp with a hand. “How?”

  Prince Hardeep smiled at her, sending her stomach into somersaults, then turned to her guards. With a bow of his head, he presented Chen Xin’s dao in two hands.

  Lips pursed, Chen Xin retrieved his weapon, his eyes locked on the alterations he’d made to Hardeep’s sleeve. He sank to his knee and bowed his head. “Dian-xia, we have failed you. If it is your command, we will take our lives.”

  Zhao Yue followed suit, raising his sword above his head.