by JC Kang
She had left prepared. They had followed the Kanin River upstream for what, six days now? But why? He mumbled out his words as he chewed. “So where are we going?”
“I’ve told you.” She threw her hands up. “We—I mean, I am looking to sabotage the Teleri supply lines.”
She had told him. Each of the dozen times he had asked. However, he knew women, and Jie’s focus and determination went beyond duty. There was more, and eventually she would relent and tell him.
Jie stared at Ming’s sleeping form, curled up on dried leaves, and sighed. Why hadn’t she followed Princess Kaiya’s orders and just put him out of his misery?
Because he was Tian’s brother. Tian didn’t even like to kill enemies, and would be even less pleased if she’d murdered the brother he’d adored so much. Of course, no matter how many times she threatened Ming over the last year, she’d never really intended to follow through.
Which didn’t explain why she hadn’t just left him behind after the improbable rescue. She pulled the blanket up over him. The last thing she needed was for him to catch cold and slow her down.
He’d already slowed her down enough. At least on their quest in Selastya, he could swing a sword and shoot a bow. Well. Really well, if she had to grudgingly admit it. He had dropped fake Akolytes, Bovyan shock troops, and an altivorc who nearly killed her.
She pried back the dressing on his shoulder to inspect the wound. Whatever else she could say about the Bovyans, they knew battlefield medicine. Even so, Ming might never pull a bowstring again, and they didn’t have a sword for him to swing with his good arm. Even with the knife she loaned him—well, gave him, because she sure didn’t want it back after he put his paws on it—he didn’t stand a chance against a ten-year-old version of herself in a knife fight.
And the incessant questions.
Question.
Where are we going? The one which she answered with the same half-truth. Out. There. Away from princesses and responsibilities and intrigue and wars. Pick a direction and walk, until the food and supplies she’d appropriated from the castle halved. Which was much faster with Ming’s appetite.
Jie stared out into the forest, her elf vision picking out the hues of green.
Somewhere out there, she would find herself again. Ming would provide the semi-intelligent human interaction she needed to remain sane, or at least be a practice dummy to keep her tongue sharp. And if he got them both killed first, so be it.
Though the wild elves didn’t forbid Feneyas from leaving, he didn’t know the first thing about surviving in the wilderness. When a search for his identity meant a slow death by exposure and starvation, the treetop village became a prison. If he wasn’t their prisoner, he was their virtual pet, performing tricks in return for their generosity.
At least the tricks kept him occupied. He sidestepped a sword thrust and dumped the young elf man to the ground with a clip of his arms. Another elf stepped into the ring of warriors, spinning a quarterstaff in rapid circles. As the weapon swept in a broad arc toward his knees, Feneyas leapt over it with a butterfly twist and landed up close. He seized his opponent’s hand in one of his, and the end of the staff in the other, and rotated it so that it put his opponent into a wrist lock.
How could he do all this? No matter how, he was living up to his reputation as the Warrior Beyond the Wall.
Whatever that meant. From what his new friend Dior had said, an enormous Wall rose up along the western edge of the Wilds. Humans who looked like Feneyas lived on the other side. Perhaps the mysterious Doe-Eyed Girl walked among them.
He could go east to the Wall, or west to the human village, and find out more about himself; yet here he was, trapped in a village in the trees. Spending each day sparring with elves who wanted to see if he was as good as Kiri said. At times, he’d accompany Kiri and her little sister Kala when they gathered spring shoots and searched for mushrooms. Perhaps eventually, he would know enough about safe food to set off on his own, but in the meantime…
Wait, his hosts said.
Wait for what? Feneyas swiped an arrow out of the air and tracked it back to its origin.
Dior grinned. “I was aiming to miss, anyway!”
Perhaps. No matter what good hosts the elves were, they still made him wait, all to maintain a charade.
Proper channels, Kiri had said. The elves fed the native humans’ superstitions, tricking them into believing they were spirits. It seemed like a dishonest means of control, but Kiri claimed it was for everyone’s protection. The elves stayed out of sight, while the local humans, who called themselves Kanin, made regular requests to the messengers of the gods.
Over the last several days, the requests had multiplied. Small forest animals came by, visiting Nayori, the older woman who had healed him. Powerful in magic, the elf was the closest thing to the wild elves’ leader, at least as far as he could tell. The birds and squirrels apparently delivered requests from Kanin tribal shamans.
Feneyas snorted. As if animals could talk.
He used the arrow he’d caught to barely brush aside another sword thrust. A woman this time, who moved faster than any of the men thus far. He punched and thrust and tried to grab her, but Layani avoided all of his attacks with effortless grace. Her blade swirled in elegant twists and arcs, all of which missed.
On purpose. He raised his hands in surrender and bowed.
She was better. Maybe not in overall technique, but her speed and reflexes were like…memories of a brown-skinned man with a curved, guardless sword flashed in his head.
There was a name to the handsome face with its pointed beard. It taunted Feneyas’ conscious mind, just out of reach.
He looked up at Layani, her expression as mirthless as always. “How do you move so fast?”
She shrugged. “You are just slow.”
The spectators all burst out laughing, though none of them had even presented a credible challenge.
Kiri shook her head, even as the sides of her eyes crinkled. “No, Feneyas, it’s her gift.”
“Gift?”
“Martial magic,” Dior said. “Some of us have it, some don’t. Unlike our supposedly civilized brethren, we can’t use all forms of magic.”
Layani glared at Dior, then offered Feneyas a rare smile. “We are among the tribes which didn’t believe Aralas was an angel sent by Koralas. Our ancestors didn’t answer his call before the War of Ancient Gods. Nor did we leave our forest homes when his son became king of Aramysta and his daughter queen of Aerilysta. Unlike our kin, who have idle time to pursue a vast array of skills, we spend many of our waking hours providing for the village.”
The fairy tale, or perhaps history, sounded familiar. A half-sized man with scruffy hair and mischievous eyes dashed through Feneyas’ memory before he could catch it.
Nayori’s voice danced in the tree tops. “Feneyas, come.”
Yes, he was a pet. The fluffy white temple dog barked in his memories, but still gave him no sense of who he was or why a temple was important to him.
On instinct, he looked up to the voice. Just as each time before, there was nothing but the sun peeking in from the budding branches of countless trees. Magic, Kiri had said. Bending limbs to the elves’ fancy and creating an illusion for the rare passerby who glanced up.
She took him by the hand, as was her wont. Hers was warm and moist, her grin perky. She was always jovial, with a tongue as sharp as a dao, at least if he didn’t try to bring up her past. She seemed so familiar; just being with her invoked a sense of comfort and contentment. The Warrior From Beyond the Wall must’ve had a younger sister in his former life.
Kiri pulled him toward the tree, the one with invisible stairs encircling it. He could only climb it with his eyes closed, lest he trip and fall.
Seventeen steps above the ground, the tree branch steps materialized around him. No matter how many times he climbed the stairs, the transition from nothingness to solidity was disconcerting.
At the top, on the village gathering
platform, Nayori sat on a gnarled knot, holding a haughty chipmunk in her palm. As it chattered away, she nodded.
Feneyas exchanged glances with Kiri, who just added a shrug to her mischievous smile.
Nayori’s gaze then lifted to meet his. “Feneyas, the eyes and ears of the forest have told us the Metal Men are marching in greater numbers than ever before, heading west. The village shamans have all requested the gods to send the Warrior Beyond the Wall to teach them to fight.”
Feneyas nodded. “I want to go west. I want to meet other humans. Maybe they can tell me who I am.”
Her eyes, seas of liquid brown, searched his. She hefted the chipmunk, who afforded Feneyas a smug look. “My little friend here comes from the Maki tribal lands. He tells me there is a shaman who claims he can tell you who you are.”
CHAPTER 13:
Resolve
The roaring falls of the North Kanin River poured into the Hua basin, drowning out all other sounds as Kaiya climbed from the palanquin. Along with Fang Weiyong and six provincial soldiers as escort, she made her way up the cliff path toward the Zheng family temple. The late afternoon sun danced in the falls’ mist, forming a shimmering rainbow above the rocks.
Even with Fang Weiyong’s support, her chest heaved as she fought for each breath. Pregnant, anemic, she struggled to climb the trail. If this short trip drained her, how could she hope to escape and make the three-day journey to the capital?
Weiyong apparently shared the same doubts. “Dian-xia, perhaps you should continue in the palanquin.”
It was a sound suggestion, but Lady Zheng apparently wanted to make her trip as difficult as possible. The palanquin bearers waited at the bottom of the cliff. She shook her head and continued toward the flat bluffs halfway up.
Like the road, Zhengguang Temple was carved into the cliff face. Grateful to reach the waterfall pool overlook, Kaiya paused under the sloping tile eaves, which sparkled with condensation and sunlight. Heads turned and lips moved among the couple dozen common folk, and like a wave, they all sank to their knees.
It would not do to let them see her so haggard. Kaiya straightened her back and lifted her chin. She turned to the provincial soldiers. “Wait here. Weiyong, come with me.”
The soldiers all bowed and held back.
Summoning all her grace, she glided through the red columns and into the temple. Trickles of smoke wafted from burning incense, cloying the air with a sweet fragrance. Light bauble braziers stood partially shuttered, casting the central chamber in a warm golden glow.
Several priests knelt and chanted before the Zheng family altar. Kaiya approached them, passing between two enormous statues holding silent vigil at the sides of the broad chamber. On the left stood Lord Guan, patron saint of warriors and guardian of the East Gate Province. Chest jutted out, he held a halberd whose haft touched the tiled ground and whose blade tip reached the vaulting ceiling. Wu-Long, the Dragon Protector of Hua, faced him, coiling up from floor to roof.
One of the priests met her gaze. Word of her arrival passed among them, and they all turned in place and pressed their foreheads to the ground.
Kaiya’s voice caught in her throat, and she had to clear it. “Rise.” Her own voice sounded weak in her ears.
They all came out of their bows. The abbot rose to his feet and approached with his eyes politely averted. “Dian-xia, thank you for gracing us with your presence in this trying time. Did you come to pray for our soldiers?”
Kaiya nodded. “Yes. And while I pray, bring me the tablet of Zheng Tian, fourth son of Lord Zheng Han.”
The abbot looked at her, his eyes searching hers in a display of impudence.
In the past, she might have feigned anger. Instead, she kept her voice level. “That is my command.”
The abbot bowed and disappeared down a passageway behind the altar, hustling into the temple’s depths.
She took several steps forward and bowed before the altar. All this time, she’d played games, planning and plotting ways to legitimize her children. She was no better than the ambitious lords and ministers who jockeyed for power back at court. Perhaps the gods were punishing her.
It was time to make things right. After praying for the Hua soldiers’ safety, she silently asked for forgiveness of the gods, and also of her true husband, Tian.
Outside the temple, at the edge of her hearing, a commotion broke out over the din of chanting monks and the raging waterfall. Before she could turn to see the source, the abbot returned with a hand-sized tablet.
Kaiya received it in two hands with her head bowed. All it took was a cursory scan to see Tian’s birth name engraved. Was that a clenching of her stomach as she ran a finger across his birth and death dates?
In the only twelve days since he’d sacrificed himself so she could escape Geros, she’d abandoned his memory. She looked up and met the abbot’s gaze. “You are not to tell anyone I have this.”
“As the princess commands.” He pressed his palms together and bowed.
Soft footsteps behind her drew her attention. She turned around to find Lady Zheng, dressed in silken riding robes, kneeling on the tile floor. Weiyong bowed low in apology.
“Lady Zheng,” Kaiya said, “please rise.”
The woman’s eyes focused on Kaiya’s hands. “You have Tian’s tablet.”
Kaiya bowed. “Yes, Mother.”
The hard lines of Lady Zheng’s face softened. “I have arranged for a regiment of imperial soldiers to escort you back to the capital.”
That couldn’t be right. How quickly an attitude could change. Kaiya raised an eyebrow. “You would betray your husband?”
“I have faith you will not betray yours.” Lady Zheng offered a sad smile. “I cannot allow Teleri hands to sully the mother of my grandchildren and raise more questions about their legitimacy.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Kaiya kept her expression warm and grateful, despite the irony of Lady Zheng’s words. As Father once said, sometimes half-truths and misdirection accomplished more good than the truth.
“You do not have long before my lord surrenders the gate. Make haste.”
Kaiya bowed, then glided out of the temple, running her hand over the cool surface of the tablet as she did. Tian, her husband, jettisoned in the last few days for the sake of convenience. Her love, even though she couldn’t feel it. She’d take the tablet back to her family temple in Huajing, and have Fang Weiyong vest it with hers to formalize Tian’s marriage into her family. She tucked the tablet into an inner pocket of her robe.
Outside, dozens of imperial soldiers dropped to one knee. “Dian-xia!” they proclaimed in unison. Around them, commoners pressed their foreheads to the ground.
Her energy flagging, Kaiya straightened. “Rise.”
The soldiers rose and stepped to the side, revealing the palanquin and kneeling porters. She stumbled with her first step toward it, but Weiyong caught her by the arm. Both he and a captain helped her in.
Once the doors slid shut, she slumped into the padded chair, grateful for the chance to sit.
“Where to, Dian-xia?” Weiyong asked from outside.
“To the capital.”
“If Emperor Geros finds out you are near, there is no way we can stay ahead of them.”
Especially in her condition. The objectivity of her thoughts suggested the Tiger’s Eye still held her emotions firmly in check. “Lord Zheng may betray Hua, but I do not think he will betray the mother of his grandchildren.”
“In any case,” Fang Weiyong said, “enough people have seen you here. We cannot just leave by the highway.”
“A diversion, then. Send the palanquin down the main highway with my guards, while you, Jie, and I will take a riverboat.”
Weiyong’s silence outside perhaps echoed Kaiya’s own misgivings. Strategic diversions like this had failed her at least three times in the past. What would make it work this time?
“Weiyong,” she said. “I don’t think we have any other choice.”
“Yes,
Dian-xia.” His voice wavered.
“Captain, send a runner to Count Du, telling him to expect us soon.”
“As the princess commands,” the captain said.
On her command, the palanquin set off toward the town bordering the waterfall’s lake. The narrow confines, which in the past gripped her with terror, now provided a screen to hide her exhaustion.
After catching her breath, she slid the window open to see the ancient buildings, shrouded in mists. Even from a few li away, the commotion of worried townsfolk carried over the waters.
The noise grew as they made their way into the town. Commoners cleared the road for the palanquin. Perhaps the imperial soldiers drew the many points and murmurs.
“Fang Weiyong,” she called through the window. “Make sure they know it is me.”
He bowed in acquiescence, and then moved out of her line of site to the front of the palanquin. His usually timid voice rose, though its shyness remained. “Make way for Princess Kaiya.”
A hush fell over the crowd. Like a wave, they sank to their knees, foreheads to the ground, rising with excited whispers as the palanquin passed. In a land where the Imperial Family was revered, hopefully her very presence gave them a sense of calm against the impending invasion.
Before long, they arrived at the villa of Count Du, the local Yu-Ming lord. She’d rejected his first son two years before, but he’d always been faithful to Father in the past. Then again, so had Lord Zheng.
As they approached the gates and passed through, Count Du’s soldiers all dropped to a knee, fist to the ground.
The palanquin doors slid open, and Kaiya climbed out. The imperial soldiers serving as her escort and the villa guards all dropped into a salute.
Head bobbing, Count Du shuffled out to meet her. “Dian-xia, welcome. Had I known sooner, I would have made sure the entire town was out to greet you with waving banners of the Empire, and prepared a meal fit for the Tianzi.”
Kaiya nodded. “I appreciate the sentiment all the same. Now, I ask that you allow me to stay here for an hour.”
