Queen of Stars and Shadows (Pathway of the Chosen)

by Cat Bruno

  Hurriedly taking her place next to Syrsha, she whispered, “Where did you disappear to all night?”

  Syrsha glared at the girl, silencing her with the look as she breathed, “We can talk on it later.”

  Soon after, the instructions began. Master Min, as he introduced himself, called out positions, which Syrsha handled with ease. As she held a one-legged stand, she thought on Jiang, whom she managed to forget once Gregorr had found her. It was only Liang’s mention of her absence that allowed her to remember her time spent with him in the gardens.

  Her face reddened, and she nearly fell to the floor, unbalanced now. Again, Liang glanced at her, with a half-smile and grumbling laughter.

  The morning session ended some hours later, and both women rushed from the room. Realizing that she had not yet eaten, Syrsha followed as Liang made her way to the dining rooms. After grabbing several baked pastries, filled with fish and cabbage, Syrsha asked the other woman if she would join her on the temple steps.

  It was there that she told her of what transpired with Jiang.

  “He asked you to be his wife!” Liang snorted between bites.

  “Jiang knows that I cannot stay in Tian,” Syrsha told her, without humor.

  “I heard some of the third-levels talking about him. Nearly every woman nearby is in love with him.”

  “There is much to like about him,” Syrsha agreed.

  Knocking flakes of breading from her face, Liang stated, “You speak as if you are already gone, and he just a lost love.”

  Syrsha did not look up as she said, “News has arrived from Cordisia. I must return in haste. Within a half-moon, he will be just a memory.”

  “What of the laohu hunt?” Liang pressed, as the mood shifted between the women.

  As Syrsha nibbled on the last of her rolls, she answered, “I must convince Master Ru to allow me to test at once.”

  “He will not permit it!” Liang argued, her words thick.

  “Master Ru, for all his power, is not governor here,” Syrsha told her. “You know Tian and its laws. What if Jiang’s father insists that I should be allowed the hunt?”

  The idea had come to her during the morning session, as Master Min’s voice chimed in low tones calling out positions. Dengxi, although several hours from the Tiannese capital, was home to the Emperor’s favorite summer house, and he had developed a friendship with Jiang’s family that spanned several moon years. Jiang’s father, Governor Zhang-Wei, in part because of the friendship, was the most influential man in the province. And richest, too, which allowed him to gift the temple with frequent tidings. Syrsha hoped that she would only need to ask Jiang to speak to his father. If more was required, she would see it done, which is what she explained to Liang.

  “In law, the temple does not answer to any, not even to the Emperor. Although, in truth, the Emperor controls all. If Jiang’s father orders the hunt, none would challenge him. Not even the temple elders,” Liang admitted.

  “So I must convince Jiang to make it so,” Syrsha sighed, although both knew how easy such would be.

  “What of the dress?” Liang suddenly asked.

  Finally amused, Syrsha chirped, “When first we met, you wore nothing but a half-vest and men’s trousers. Now your concern is not for me when I face the great cats, but what I will be wearing after!”

  Now both women laughed, rising from the steps to make their way back to the training rooms.

  “On the morrow, we must send word to Wei and Min-Xi. Nothing has changed, Liang. I need soldiers more than ever, but have less time to make it so.”

  Another thought came to Syrsha then. The women now walked back toward the training rooms, and Syrsha weaved a silencing ward around them. Liang did not notice, but paused when Syrsha reached for her arm.

  “If I must depart at once, soon after the hunt, I will not be able to build an army or lead them west. Liang, if it is still your desire to join me in Cordisia, I can think of no one better to command the Tiannese troops.”

  Nodding her closely shorn head, Liang told her, “There is nothing for me in Tian, and I cannot go back to Sythia.”

  The woman was often practical, and Syrsha was not surprised by her words and asked if she had agreed to lead the Tiannese fighters west.

  With her coarse laughter, Liang teased, “Of course. Although I cannot promise that Tiannese men will follow me.”

  Just before Syrsha released the ward, she stated, “I want none as ally who would not come because you are woman and not man.”

  “Impress them enough, and maybe it will not matter,” Liang shrugged.

  “I have little time to accomplish much. Bearing through hours of simple forms is nearly useless, and I do not care much for going to class. Would you want to return to town now and find Min-Xi?”

  Moon years before, while in Cossima, Syrsha would have never considered missing a training session with Otieno or a studying session with Aldric. Back then, though, she had little else to do. Now, each day was another day closer to war, one that would not wait for her return.

  “Mistress Min-Xi will likely scold you,” Liang stated as they made their way from the temple.

  “It will be nothing that I am not accustomed to,” Syrsha retorted.

  *****

  19

  For the last two days, Syrsha had met with Jiang after the evening meal. Tonight, however, she was dining with his family. Only Liang knew of her plan, although Gregorr watched her more closely of late. Otieno had questioned Syrsha after he learned about her absences from the anjin rooms, so she once more participated in the morning session. Master Ru had denied her request to stage the hunt in a quarter-moon, which had not surprised any. With so many watching her at the temple, Syrsha longed for her time with Jiang.

  As she walked toward his house, Syrsha adjusted the robe that Wei had hastily made for her. Although it had been designed in the traditional style, the mistress had chosen to use emerald silk for the upper half, instead of red or cream. It was unadorned, with neither embroidery nor painting upon it. The sleeves were wide, draped to cover all but her fingers. Just beneath her breasts, a large sash of gold was tied. It, too, was finely made but without added decoration. Matching the blouse was a long, flowing skirt made of the same emerald silk.

  Wei had been quite pleased on how well she remembered Syrsha’s eye color, which was duplicated in the fabric. It was strange to be wearing such an abundance of cloth, and Syrsha had not been able to dress at the temple, for fear that the others would see. Her friendship with Jiang was unknown, and she had been able to disappear to meet him with ease. Her robes had been tucked near her swords, which she had longed to hide beneath her oversized skirt.

  Knowing not what to do with her hair, Syrsha had tied it in a healer’s knot, for few Tiannese women wore it unbound. Her life pulse fluttered against the satiny blouse as she neared the main door. It would be her first time entering without shadow as shield.

  Just as she approached the Governor’s guards, Jiang called to her, stepping around the men. Of late, she found herself at ease with him more so than the others.

  “I nearly mistook you for a true Tiannese woman,” he teased with words that slid freely from his lips.

  Syrsha realized his jest and laughed, “I know not how you wear so much fabric! The walk here was longer by half.”

  “Come, then, and let me get you some wine.”

  Moon years before, starting when she was quite young, Aldric had taught her much about mage-craft. Syrsha could weave wards and create orb-lights without difficulty before she was four moon years old. However, it was the lesser magics that she would use today. With Jiang, it would take little effort, for he was already half in love with her. His father would require more of her focus as she sought his support. In Cossima, Syrsha was most often surrounded by those she knew, and mind-altering magery was never needed. In truth, had she tried such spells, she would have been disciplined heavily, by both Aldric and Otieno.

  Now, she must not fail.<
br />
  Her life pulse tapped fast as she accepted the metal-based glass. Beneath her fingers, thickened silver weaved intricately, and, upon a closer look, Syrsha realized her hand hid the scaled tale of a dragon. Rising up one side of the glass was the rest of the body, while the long-nosed head curled around the edge.

  Noticing her inspection, Jiang said, “Have you ever seen such an ornate goblet? They were a gift from the Emperor when last he visited. I find them too heavy to be of great use, but one must not admit such.”

  Jiang disliked such displays of wealth, Syrsha had learned, and often disagreed with his father over how wasted their gold was when so many in the province were without enough rice. For tonight, she hoped he would hold his tongue and not anger the Governor. She nearly begged him as much, but, before she could do so, light footfalls could be heard against the clay-tiled floors.

  “What have you told him about me?” she whispered, coming near to Jiang’s side.

  “Only that you have come from the West to train at the temple,” he assured her, although his eyes gleamed.

  The sounds of sandal against tile loudened, and Syrsha grabbed Jiang’s hand.

  “There is something that I must tell you.”

  He said nothing, but she saw concern cross his face.

  “Jiang, I have come here to fight the laohus.”

  When she thought he would pale further, Jiang’s face blushed as he smiled wide.

  “Then you will be in Tian long enough to become my wife, Syrsha,” he exclaimed, squeezing her hand.

  “You’ve misunderstood,” she told him quickly. “I cannot stay for so long. Like you, I have a father who I must obey.”

  She had waited too long to confess her motives, and now spoke in haste, making little sense.

  “Jiang,” she pleaded, “The temple elders will not permit me to face the laohus in such little time. I need your father to intervene on my behalf.”

  Only then did he recoil, pulling his hand from hers. Syrsha had not yet called for mage-spell and watched his eyes drop.

  With a soft intake of air, she wrapped him in a ward of comfort. Like Liang, he did not feel the vibrating hum, for in Tian, mage-craft was more akin to Jarek’s Elemental abilities. Here, they worshipped balance, seeking it through wind and water, rock, wood, and fire. In her lessons at the temple, the masters did not speak of gods or monsters. Instead of looking outward, Master Ru had once told her, she needed to search for inwardness. Until she learned to do so, the great cats would remain hidden. She had not understood his words, and, even now, the idea was a strange one to her.

  Master Ru had explained how she must cease her actions and live without intent. Then, when she found the coveted harmony, she would reach the fifth level. Syrsha recalled informing him that she had no such desire. The master had not been pleased, but acted as if he had expected such a response.

  When Jiang relaxed, his mahogany eyes clouded with mage-spell, Syrsha murmured, “I have asked nothing of you, my love. Will you not do this one thing for me?”

  He nodded, as she knew he would, for he had offered no resistance to the magic. Before his father could enter the room, she swiftly kissed his cheek. As voices deepened, Syrsha stepped away from Jiang, for she must feign modesty in front of the Governor, as Liang had instructed.

  After loosening the ward, she looked toward the arched entry. Jiang had escorted her to the central hall, the largest room in the villa. On her next breath, the Governor strolled in, followed by a black-robed guard. Just behind the guard trailed a woman, dressed in the finest silks that Syrsha had seen. The woman, Zhang-Wei’s wife she guessed, walked with her gaze on the floor. Her gait was hobbled, and suddenly Syrsha recalled what Liang had told her of the Tiannese practice of foot-binding. Liang, whose family had little wealth, had not had her toes broken and wrapped, but she knew of the golden lotus nonetheless.

  After moon years under such bindings, a woman’s foot would much resemble the angled flower. Syrsha hurriedly looked away from the woman’s black, satin boots, smaller than a babe’s.

  As he came upon them the Governor called, “Jiang, pour me some of that wine.”

  The son obeyed while his mother made her way to a low-lying chair, covered in a plush, golden fabric. Her robe was dotted with tiny blossoms, sewn into the shining red drapes. Into her hair the same blossoms flowered, bright white against her dark tresses. Syrsha knew not how to address the woman, so she stayed silent.

  Jiang handed his father the Emperor’s goblet and said, “Father, allow me to introduce you to our visitor. She has come far, farther than any else who you might meet.”

  Syrsha’s fingers circled at her side as she spun a mage-spell, one that would do no more than enamor the Governor. It was a simple casting and would cause no lasting harm to Zhang-Wei.

  Offering a small bow, Syrsha looked upon him with dark-rimmed eyes, for the ward did not come without cost. Few would notice the black shadows, for her eyes shined like gems. Those eyes, a gift from her long-dead grandfather, remained mortal.

  More, they reminded her of who she must become.

  The ward deepened as she said, “Thank you for welcoming me, Governor.”

  Syrsha would bow no deeper, nor would she come to him in fear. She greeted him as queen, even one not yet crowned.

  “Where is your father, child?” he asked, emptying his glass.

  After a moment, she answered, “I study at the temple, as any student might.”

  “What of your brother then? Who has allowed you to travel so far East?”

  “I have no brother,” she told him, moving her fingers to her neck.

  Her life pulse slowed as her fingers twisted. The Governor was a simple man, even in his hubris. Syrsha’s eyes darkened further as she shifted the mage-spell, closing him in as if he was bundled and cloaked. It had been more difficult with him than with Jiang, but Syrsha did not fret. Soon, Zhang-Wei’s eyes drooped, and he yelled for another glass of wine.

  “Give the girl some more as well, Jiang!” he commanded, although he spoke without anger or impatience.

  Uncertain how long the ward would keep, Syrsha uneasily chatted with Zhang-Wei and waited for an opportunity to speak of the great cats. Before dinner was served, the Governor had two more glasses of rice wine and rosy circles marked his cheeks. His wife, Shou’an, did not speak, although she sipped from a small glass. When women dressed in white arrived with trays of food, all but Shou’an moved to a round table in the southern corner of the room. Two boys, Jiang’s brothers she learned, joined the group as well.

  As they supped on small quarters of pork atop long-grained rice, Syrsha began speaking of the temple. She made mention of the laohus, silently reminding herself how little time remained.

  “One of the temple masters told me that, as a woman, I will never be allowed to earn the stripes of the laohu.”

  Knowing the divide between the temple elders and the Governor, she added, “Would it not be a feat long remembered if I fought one and came out as victor? Governor Zhang-Wei, I understand that it is not the Tiannese way for women to be warriors, but I would ask for your support. Think on this: with you as sponsor, the masters must let me fight. And when I win, the honor falls on your house more than any other.”

  “But can you win, child?” he asked, suddenly alert.

  “I come from Cossima, my lord, and have had a sword in my hand since I could walk.”

  “You must face the laohu without weapon!” one of the wide-eyed young boys exclaimed.

  “I will face the great cat as any other. And I will bring glory and fame to your name,” she told them all, threading a small spell into her words.

  “What need do I have for glory? I am the richest man in Dengxi,” the Governor laughed, wine-drunk and gleeful.

  Thinking on talk she heard on her last visit to Mistress Wei, Syrsha stated, “There is rumor that the Emperor seeks to construct a new summer home. He thinks of Dengxi as too provincial and dull, if I have heard true. Invite him anew.
What better offer can you make than to promise him a fight that none have seen before? Show him that Dengxi and Sholin Temple are without rival.”

  Even without the mage-spell, Zhang-Wei might have agreed, for Jiang’s brothers could do nothing to hide their growing excitement.

  Rubbing at his rounded stomach, he admitted, “As it is, the Emperor is not in the capital. He is but a day’s ride from here. Could you be ready so soon?”

  It had nearly been too easy, but there was little resistance in Tian to the shadowed magic of the West. Or Zhang-Wei cared little if she lived or died, and cared most for the attention it would bring upon his house.

  Yet it mattered naught and Syrsha told him, “Your name will live long, my lord. I will fight when the Emperor arrives.”

  Pouring himself more wine, Zhang-Wei declared, “I will send word to the temple elders in the morn. For now, let us eat and drink.”

  Later, when Jiang and she walked along the outer courtyard, he tried to convince her of the folly of facing the great cat. Only then did Syrsha know that the ward had faded.

  “Will you not trust me, Jiang? I have come to Tian for just this purpose. Within a quarter-moon, I must return home, to a land that will be split by war. For moon years, I have attempted to build an army, yet I have less than five men at my side. There are many in Tian who long to travel and to fight, but cannot. Let them watch me conquer the laohu, and let them follow me west.”

  “You would welcome those untrained? What madness is that, Syrsha? For even I have read tales of war. You would surely be defeated with such an army behind you,” he argued heatedly, unconvinced now that no ward bound him.

  With a rising temper, she said, “There are no finer teachers than the ones who I have had. Any who join me will learn of combat and of healing. Of the bow and of the sword.”

  “What of me?” he asked suddenly.

  It was the question that she knew must come. And the one she could not answer.