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

by JC Kang

  He was listening to her thoughts. Jie blanked her mind, using an anti-interrogation technique.

  Lord Xu chuckled, and then uttered a foul-sounding syllable, worthy of an altivorc oath.

  The sudden return of sensation nearly sent Jie tumbling to the ground, yet she managed to regain her balance before suffering further injury to her ego. Now if only Lord Xu would get out of her mind.

  My apologies. I will not violate your privacy again, unless you attack me. “Now, withdraw from the chambers. I have secrets to share with the princess.”

  He was unravelling her, puncturing even her mental armor. Jie crossed her arms. “I cannot. My orders are to remain with her at all times.”

  Lord Xu’s almond eyes, almost a mirror of her own, narrowed. “I could teleport you to the other end of the realm, but you would probably just kill yourself for dereliction of duty. It would be a waste of such talent.” He walked past her to stand at the head of princess’ bed.

  Such arrogance. Add arrogance to abandonment to the long list of elven shortcomings. The princess retreated to her headboard and glared at him. “So why do you invade my room at this late hour?”

  The elf grinned like a schoolboy. “You will be negotiating with the Madurans. I thought I should teach you one more skill beforehand.”

  “Can’t it wait until morning?” The princess pulled the covers up higher. It was tempting to join her beneath the blankets, like Jie’s favorite dog at the Black Lotus Temple would.

  “I am to perform a ritual magic spell when Renyue is full. I will be returning to Haikou as soon as I am done teaching you.”

  With a low sigh, the princess bowed her head. “Yes, Master.” She pushed her legs over the side of her bed.

  Still smiling, the elf drew his longsword. Jie reached for her knives. Before she drew them, he tossed his weapon toward the princess, hilt first.

  The princess cowered back, moving out of its flight path, but the sword suspended itself in mid-air, just outside her reach. She tentatively seized it by the hilt. The nonchalance with which he performed these impossibilities didn’t seem to be simple theatrics.

  The show continued. Lord Xu reached behind him, and a lute from the anteroom flew across the bedchamber and into his grasp. He turned it over in his hands, examining it. “None the worse for its tumble onto the castle parapet two years ago. Now, Dian-xia, place your hand on the sword blade, so as to be barely touching it.”

  When the princess had done as she was told, the elf strummed several notes. He peered at her as he did so. “Can you feel the change in vibrations?”

  She nodded.

  “Sound can be a weapon,” the elf lord said, “as deadly as the sword you hold.”

  Jie snorted. To a Moquan, almost anything could be a weapon. But sound?

  “Though perhaps even more deadly is the heart,” he added. “Half-elf, come here.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. No way would she surrender any more of her pride to this pompous ass.

  “Your loss.” Xu shrugged before gliding over to the princess’ bedside. He took her hand and placed it on his chest.

  She recoiled, her head shyly tilting to the side. “That… This is inappropriate.”

  With a chuckle, Xu jerked his chin in Jie’s direction. “It’s either me or her. Your choice. Or hers, as the case may be. Or, just lose the chance at a valuable lesson.”

  The princess looked up at Jie, her eyes pleading. The expression was reminiscent of that temple dog waiting for attention. At least the princess hadn’t commanded it. With a harrumph, Jie strode over.

  Xu smirked. “Good girl. Now, Dian-xia, put your hand over her heart.”

  The princess did as instructed. Her hand felt cold, even through Jie’s shirt.

  “Now, feel the change in your little friend’s heartbeat.” Xu improvised a long series of notes on the lute.

  Little friend, indeed! The elf lord could take his little—

  As understanding bloomed on the princess’ face, her hand resonated against Jie’s chest. The vibration changed as the elf picked up the tempo. Maybe a Moquan master’s delayed death strikes worked in a similar manner.

  “You understand, too, don’t you, half-elf?”

  Jie hesitantly nodded.

  “And you, Dian-xia, have you experienced a connection with your audience when you play? Something you knew was there, even if you did not know exactly what it was? Of course you have, when you saved the boys from slaughter two years ago in Wailian. Here is how: everything has a unique resonance, which can be changed by the cleaving of a sword or something simple as the right musical note. Now sing.”

  Her eyes glazing over, the princess lifted her voice in song. Both the vibration of Jie’s heartbeat and the princess’ hand sped up. Joy and happiness welled up in her.

  “If you can make that connection, you can bend a sentient being to your will. Now, withdraw your hand and sing a one-word command.”

  The princess’ hand dropped away, her fingers relaxing into gentle crescents. “Sit.” The word trilled out like an opera singer’s line.

  Her voice washed over Jie like a rolling wave, compelling her muscles to obey. She found herself seated at the edge of the bed. The temple dogs again came to mind. Perhaps this was what they experienced. Unlike the dogs, however, she was not rewarded with a tasty treat.

  The princess’ shoulders slumped, and she gasped for air.

  Xu clapped his hands. “Very good, Dian-xia. It will feel draining at first, but as you get better, you will be able to string longer commands together with less fatigue. Lesser beings and those of dim wit” —he grinned at Jie— “will succumb easily to your voice. But with enough practice, you might one day be able to affect even Avarax.”

  Sucking on the right side of her lower lip, Jie glared at the elf.

  He returned her stare with a wink. “My, my, if looks could slay a dragon…” Listen well, Little One. Now that you know how it feels, you can counteract the effect by knowing how to control your own heart’s frequency. You may very well need to resist the Siren’s Song in defense of your princess. I am sure she will give you many opportunities to practice.

  “Practice more, Dian-xia.” His gaze bored into Jie. “You will need it soon.”

  The air popped and Lord Xu was gone.

  The princess met Jie’s eyes. “I wonder how soon soon is.”

  CHAPTER 15:

  Another Foreign Prince

  The last time Kaiya greeted a foreign prince, the duty had been foisted on her at the last minute. She fell hopelessly in love and was taken advantage of. Now two years older and wiser, she went armed with feminine wiles and ten days of practice using the power of her voice. If anyone would have the upper hand in today’s engagement with Prince Aelward of Tarkoth, it would be her.

  She examined her smooth complexion in the mirror of her dressing room. Though the supposed Once-In-Three-Generations beauty batted eyelashes back at her, the gangly, hesitant teen hid beneath.

  Perhaps a touch of rouge would help.

  The faint sound of a rustling gown was followed by a brief flash of color in the mirror. She turned to see Jie slinking toward the door, dressed in a court robe. Embroidered in a spring flower pattern, the extravagant silk befitted an imperial handmaiden.

  However, the lines of the gown had been awkwardly modified, with raised hems and jagged stitching.

  Kaiya covered her gawk with a hand. “Who altered your gown?” The tailor would face reprimand for ruining the beautiful dress.

  Her Insolent Retainer cast her gaze down. “I did. It constrained my mobility and I needed to sew in hiding places for weapons.”

  Kaiya raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever stitched before?”

  “Only wounds.” Jie shrugged a shoulder out of her inner gown and turned to reveal a thin scar, barely noticeable, above her shoulder blade.

  Kaiya tried to banish the unsettling image of the half-elf sewing up her own laceration. However… “That is immensely be
tter than what you did to your clothes.”

  The edge of Jie’s mouth quirked up. “How would I reach the back of my shoulder? Someone else stitched that one.”

  “Tian?”

  Jie burst out laughing. “He’s far better at cutting flesh than stitching it back up.”

  Yet another childhood memory of her gentle friend, ruined. She patted Zheng Ming’s kerchief, tucked away in her outer gown’s pocket. “In any case, we cannot have you seen in that. There is not much time to fit you with a new dress, so it looks like you will have to be my shadow again today.”

  Relief danced across Jie’s face before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “As the princess commands.”

  “I will need your eyes when we venture out into the city.”

  Jie nodded. “To watch for danger, I know. That is my job.”

  “The danger I speak of is the Prince of Tarkoth, and his weapon will be his words.”

  Hiding in the shadows of the princess’ dressing room, Jie shed the annoying gown and slipped into her stealth suit. The princess’ primping was so meticulous, her tone so grave when referring to the visiting dignitary.

  Jie tried to keep a straight face. From her mission to the East, she knew all three princes of Tarkoth, one intimately. Only one was a particularly dangerous diplomat; but as Crown Prince leading a war effort, he wasn’t going to be the one travelling all the way here. Nor would it be the second prince, whose heart she’d broken.

  No, it would be the bastard, Aelward, and no amount of the princess’ feminine charms would work on him. It would be so fun to watch her try.

  After having not seen the princess since the attempt on her life nearly two weeks prior, Zheng Ming looked forward to a quiet chat over tea. Instead, she invited him to accompany her on a carriage ride to the Huajing’s West Gate, to greet some foreign prince.

  Ming had never heard of a member of the Imperial Family leaving the palace to receive an envoy. A foreign dignitary climbing the steps of the Hall of Supreme Harmony to bow before an imperial representative was standard protocol, a symbolic gesture of subservience to the Tianzi.

  Waiting for her by the palace carriage house, Ming admired the glossy finish of the two imperial coaches. The stable master and his assistants hitched the covered carriage to four jet-black stallions, imported from the horse-breeding Kingdom of Tomiwa.

  “We will take the open coach.” The princess’ melodious voice caused Ming’s legs to buckle.

  Still, even though the ambushes on the hereditary lords had abruptly stopped, it was an insane order. He turned around.

  The princess glided through the courtyard, stunning in a light blue dress with a cloud design. Two handmaidens and several imperial guards followed.

  Ming dropped to his knee, fist to the ground. “Dian-xia, perhaps the covered carriage would be safer.”

  The stable master and imperial guard captain nodded in agreement.

  The princess tilted her head. “Young Lord Zheng, thank you for your concern. However, there has not been an attack in ten days. On this glorious spring morning, we should reassure the populace with our confidence.”

  Ming bowed. “Dian-xia, please consider your safety.”

  She covered a laugh with her hand. “My Lord, we must be considerate of Prince Aelward as well. He should be able to see our city at its finest, just before the Spring Festival.” She locked eyes with the stable master. With a sweep of her hand, she gestured to the open carriage. “Switch,” she said, the single syllable warbling out as a song.

  To Ming’s surprise, her straight posture sank for a split second, and she reached out to a handmaiden for support. Her thin eyebrows knitted together.

  The stable master, on the other hand, gawked at her before looking at the captain for permission.

  Frowning, Kaiya sung her order again. “Switch…rides.”

  She wobbled, and Ming stepped forward, ready to catch her if she collapsed. He couldn't let her fall, even if it meant tempting the death sentence for touching a member of the Imperial Family uninvited. “Dian-xia, are you all right?”

  The imperial guards looked askance at him, but did not reach for their swords.

  The stable master, on the other hand, bobbed his head, and motioned for his assistants to help him re-hitch the horses to the open carriage.

  “I will be all right. The fresh air will help.” The princess offered him a weak smile.

  He helped her into a seat and sat across from her. Two dozen mounted imperial guards formed up around the vehicle, bearing the sky-blue banners of the Wang family and the Hua Empire. At the driver’s command, the carriage set off, passing through the main gates of Sun-Moon Palace.

  Ming’s eyes darted back and forth, constantly looking for danger as they travelled down Prosperous Hua Boulevard, the main north-south thoroughfare, lined with now-blooming cherry trees. At Grand Square, they turned west onto Eternal Peace Boulevard, where past-bloom plum trees boasted their purple spring foliage.

  His concern for the princess’ safety, and the constant clopping of horse hooves, made conversation difficult. His words faltered as he tried to identify potential threats among all the colorful New Year’s preparations.

  Strings of red paper lanterns fluttered along all the major streets. Shops hung red scrolls of auspicious poetry over their doors. The smell of burning incense percolated throughout the city, combining with the sweet aroma of New Year’s pastries cooking in almost every home. Huajing’s population swelled as local soldiers and merchants returned home to spend time with family for the most important holiday of the year. Those not tidying up their homes swarmed the streets as they paid off debts, visited public baths, and got their hair cut to start the New Year on a lucky foot.

  Throngs gathered at the side of the road, bowing as the carriage rolled by. For the last couple of years, the citizenry had speculated about whom their beloved princess would choose as a husband. They now pointed at Ming and whispered among themselves. As excited rumors passed ear-to-ear, he would probably go from unknown provincial heir to household name by the end of the day.

  Thirty-six li and two hours later, they arrived at the West Gate. There, Hua’s Foreign Minister Song chatted with the Tarkothi ambassador and his contingent of embassy guards. The latter all wore green surcoats over chain hauberks. A silver, nine-pointed star—the shared symbol of the Eldaeri Kingdoms of Tarkoth, Serikoth, and Korynth—was emblazoned on their chests. Ming stifled a yawn.

  Minister Song and the several dozen Hua soldiers flanking him all dropped to a knee in unison. The Tarkothi crossed their fists over their chests and bowed their heads, showing deference to their host’s ruling family.

  Outside the gatehouse, the sound of horns and marching feet approached. The billowing green flags of Tarkoth came into view as Prince Aelward’s party marched through the urban outskirts of the city. Commoners lined the streets, pointing and chattering about the brown-haired men.

  Ming chuckled. The prince himself sat awkwardly astride a white horse, led by several walking Hua officials and followed by two dozen Tarkothi marines in dark green coats. At his side rode a matronly elf, the first of their kind Ming had seen up close.

  The entourage came to a stop just outside the gate. All of the Tarkothi crossed their fists over their chests. The Hua, with the exception of the princess, bowed when the prince dismounted, though he nearly got tangled in his stirrup.

  The Tarkothi ambassador cleared his throat. “May I present Prince Aelward Corivar of Tarkoth, Captain of the Tarkothi Royal Ship Invincible.”

  It was Ming’s first experience with foreign royalty. At the edge of his visual field, he saw the princess’ eyes widen, rapt with interest. He gave the prince a thorough examination, wondering what intrigued her.

  Sure, he was good-looking, with a bronze complexion and long brown hair tied into a pony tail. His sharp, refined features and shorter stature was typical of the Eldaeri—long-lived humans who had intermixed with elves in millennia past, on a distant
continent.

  From what little Ming knew of them, they had arrived on the northeast shores of Tivaralan not long after the Hellstorm, on daunting black ships. With those ships and an ingenious repeating crossbow, they had taken advantage of the Long Winter chaos and carved out their own empire. They treated their Arkothi and Estomari subjects as second-class citizens.

  Foreign Minister Song spoke in what sounded like flawless Arkothi, the language of the North. “I present Princess Kaiya Wang, daughter of the Son of Heaven.”

  In Arkothi fashion, Prince Aelward dropped into a rigid bow, reminiscent of his inept horse riding.

  “Greetings, lass.” He took her hand and pressed his lips to it, making Ming cringe at their uncouth customs. “You’re even more beautiful than the stories say.”

  The princess tilted her head and looked shyly away. She then curtsied with the grace of a weeping willow bending in the wind, surprising Ming with her knowledge of the foreign etiquette. “I am delighted to meet you, Prince Aelward. This is my escort, Lord Ming Zheng.”

  Ming stammered with his poor Arkothi. “Pleased to meet you, Prince.”

  The foreign prince grinned and turned to the elf woman. “This is my bodyguard, Ayana.

  With no visible weapons and a frail build, it didn’t look like the old elf could guard much more than a rocking chair. Whoever these people were, to deserve the attention of an imperial princess, was beyond Ming.

  The princess curtseyed again. “Prince Aelward, it is my honor to conduct you to your audience with my father, the Son of Heaven.” She extended an open hand toward the carriage. “Please join me in this carriage, a gift we received from Tarkoth ten years ago.”

  Taking her hand in one of his and gesturing with the other, the prince bowed again. “In our culture, a lady boards first.”

  With a dip of her chin, she accepted his help stepping into the carriage. Ming rolled his eyes, glad the prince wouldn’t be able to see him.

  Not to be outdone, Ming took the old elf’s hand and helped her onto the seat next to the princess. Prince Aelward slid across the bench opposite Kaiya, and Ming followed last, facing the elf.