Fire and Fantasy: a Limited Edition Collection of Epic and Urban Fantasy

by CK Dawn

The surroundings didn’t look familiar. Lined by two-story wood buildings, with storefronts on the first floor and residences on top, it could be virtually any side street in Huajing. Kai-Long’s provincial soldiers all stood with broadswords drawn. He, himself, took a sword from a guard and strode toward the newcomer.

  A lone figure with a curved blade in hand blocked the procession’s way. He stepped forward into the light, both hands raised.

  Prince Hardeep! His chin was now bare, the pointed beard gone in the hours since we’d met. His beautiful blue eyes found mine in the crowd. Though the hooded cloak hid my face, recognition dawned in his expression.

  Trying to stand straight, I lowered the hood and smoothed out my dress.

  “Prince Hardeep.” Speaking perfectly in the Ayuri tongue, Kai-Long locked his eyes on Hardeep’s backpack. “This is not where we had planned to meet.”

  Adjusting a backpack, the prince shifted his intense gaze from me to my cousin. “Yes. I fear the Madurans have learned of my visit to the palace.” He glanced back in the direction he’d come. “I was followed. I’ve lost them for now, with the help of my men. I thought you were bringing the princess. Who is that?”

  Oh, the magic bead. I started to stuff it in my sash when Kai-Long placed a hand on my wrist.

  Pulling me along, he sidled up to the prince and whispered in his ear. “This is her. Aksumi magic.”

  Hardeep’s mouth gaped…though he had seemed to recognize me before. If only I had a mirror to see what the magic made me look like. He nodded in a slow bob.

  “Are you unharmed?” I asked.

  Shoulders squared, Hardeep made a single, resolute nod. “I came to warn you. You should return to the safety of the palace walls.” Though his body language suggested confidence, his beautiful eyes fixed on the ground in defeat.

  Kai-Long nodded in rapid jerks. “I was just about to send a runner to let you know we were returning to the palace.”

  Though to save himself, not for my safety. I suppressed a snort. “What about the Dragon Scale Lute?”

  “I can’t risk your life.” He looked up at me. “Not even for my beloved homeland.”

  The trembling in his voice struck a chord, making my legs wobble even more than my weak tolerance to rice wine. All the indecision faded. He’d place my safety above his homeland; now I’d do anything to help Ankira. “I—” I stumbled forward a few steps.

  Arms outstretched, he caught me. Warm and enveloping, his embrace felt safer than a full complement of imperial guards. His luminous eyes gazed into mine. “You don’t know the Madurans. They don’t care about your noble intentions or your gentle soul. They don’t care if you are just sixteen. If they think you are meddling in their affairs, they won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  I pushed myself out of his arms. “No. My country’s sale of guns and firepowder brought on your country’s misery. Our classic texts on governance teach that we must rectify wrongs we have caused. I will help.”

  Kai-Long shuffled on his feet. “What about the servants who helped get you out of the palace?”

  “If we can get back soon, I will go with the prince.” I turned to Hardeep. “How long will it take?”

  He looked up at the iridescent moon, now waxing to its third gibbous. “I can have you back at the palace in two hours.”

  More than enough time to swap out with the servants. Maybe even to return to the reception, since that would last until all hours of the morning.

  Kai-Long clasped my hand. “I object, Your Highness. Your illusion might wear off soon. To keep your identity hidden, I can’t send any of my guards with you. It’s too dangerous.”

  “I’ll be all right.” I leaned into my prince. “Prince Hardeep has Paladin training.”

  Kai-Long searched my eyes. With a sighing nod, he took a sheathed dagger from his guard and passed it to me. “Very well.” He bowed to Prince Hardeep. “I entrust you with the princess’ life. My uncle would be devastated if anything happened to her.”

  “As would I.” Hardeep pressed his palms together and bowed his head. He then took my hand in his. The heat coursed through me. “Let’s go.”

  Walking down the street, I glanced back at Kai-Long. His lips drew into a tight line. I would owe him quite a favor. I turned to Prince Hardeep. “What happened to your beard?”

  He rubbed his hand over his chin. “I shaved it, so that my enemies would have a harder time recognizing me.”

  I smiled. It made him look even younger, more handsome, though his unique blue irises were a dead giveaway. “Where is the Dragon Scale Lute?”

  He looked around the street, and then leaned in. He spoke Ayuri in a low voice. “I don’t have it. But I carry with me an old journal from my uncle’s visit to Vyara City, twenty-nine years ago. He was there representing my country when your emperor dispatched a mission to negotiate the sale of muskets and firepowder with both Ankira and Madura.”

  My alcohol-muddled mind took a few seconds to grasp the significance. I sucked in a sharp breath. Cathay had played both sides of the conflict and profited.

  “I don’t blame you for your nation’s past sins.” He squeezed my hand fondly. “I am just glad you recognize them.”

  “How does the journal relate to the lute?”

  “Twenty-nine years ago, the dragon Avarax awoke from a millennium of sleep. He descended on Vyara City and threatened to immolate it with his fiery breath.”

  I shuddered. A peninsular city of spires, domes, canals, and fruit trees, Vyara City was home to hundreds of thousands of people. They would have all perished in dragonfire. “What happened?”

  “An elf prince played a song on a lute which repelled Avarax.”

  Repelled a dragon with just a lute, the Arkothi equivalent of a pipa! I gasped, and then cocked my head. “The Dragon Scale Lute?”

  Prince Hardeep’s grin spread from ear to ear. “Its resonance plate was made from one of Avarax’s scales. Its strings were made from his whiskers. If it could scare away the great Avarax, there is no telling how it would affect humans. It’s in your capital.”

  My brain swam in circles. All this time, I thought he had it. Even without rice wine, the revelation would have confused me. “How?”

  Prince Hardeep’s grin faded. “I don’t know. My uncle noted in his journal that one of your trade officials ended up with the lute. We’re going to his house now.”

  “Whose?” And what would we be doing when we got there?

  He fell silent and beckoned me along. At this hour, we encountered only a handful of people, mostly laborers on their way home. Prince Hardeep held my right elbow and hand, supporting my shaky steps. On occasion, he took a furtive glance around. After a few minutes, we headed into a side street.

  “Do you feel it?” he asked. “Someone is watching us.”

  I hadn’t felt anything. There was no one around. Unless the wine had addled my mind. I started to turn my head.

  “No,” he whispered. “Keep your attention forward.”

  At the intersection up ahead, a large man dressed in a black shirt and pants stepped into the street. He pointed a broadsword at Hardeep. “Give me the backpack.”

  Hand on his curved talwar sword, Prince Hardeep stopped in place, jerking me closer to him. The magical bead slipped from my fingers and tinkled to the ground.

  Click, swoosh, click, swoosh. Rhythmic clicks came from behind us.

  Prince Hardeep pushed me to the side. Something—no, two things—zipped through the space where we had just stood and thunked into a house. He whipped out his sword, his backpack not seeming to affect the fluidity of his motion.

  If only my head were a little clearer! Fumbling for my dagger, I searched for the source of the clicks. Another large man leveled a repeating crossbow at us. He pressed the trigger and cocked.

  “Come on!” I pulled Prince Hardeep out of the line of fire and ran toward the swordsman. If we lined up with the other assailant, the crossbowman would likely think twice about shooting.

&nbs
p; A pair of enormous men in black hoods turned the corner, joining the first. They all sank into attacking stances. Behind me, two more charged in. Six against two. Or one, considering I was just a drunk girl with a dagger.

  “Help!” I yelled. It might be all I was good for. With lights shining behind sliding windows, many of the citizens had to be awake.

  Though I had pulled Hardeep, now he hauled me forward, moving so fast my drunken feet nearly entangled each other. What was he doing?

  Above, windows opened and heads poked out. In a city famed for its safety, the fighting must have come as a surprise.

  The three in front leaped in with curved swords, cutting in deadly coordination. Prince Hardeep edged to one side while deflecting one of the blades and prodding me past the attacks. Cloth sheared open and one of the would-be-assassins buckled to the ground. Hardeep yanked the man’s hooded mask off.

  A boy about my age, perhaps younger despite his huge size, stared back at me.

  “Come on!” Hardeep said, pulling me through the opening. On the other side, we broke into a run.

  Eyes glinting, Hardeep mumbled something unintelligible, though the foul tone suggested some sort of curse. The sudden rush of blood to my head, combined with the alcohol, sent my vision blacking at the edges. A cold wind blasted through my hair. My legs gave out and I staggered, nearly falling to the ground.

  Hardeep propped me up and slowed to a stop. Stopping? It wasn’t as if I ran that fast, and those men…boys…had long legs. I blinked a few times and searched for the assailants.

  There was no sign of them.

  Panting, I looked up at Hardeep. “How did we escape them so fast?”

  “I’m not sure, but listen.”

  There were no sounds of pursuit, just the sound of several muted conversations behind second-floor windows. We couldn’t have run that far, but maybe my muddled brain had warped my perception of time and space. Where were we now?

  “I think we are safe now.” He ran a hand through my hair. “You did well. I owe you my life.”

  “How so?” I tilted my head.

  “The crossbow bolt would have hit me had you not pulled me out of the way.” His gaze made my pulse flutter.

  “I’ve never heard of anything like this happening in the capital.”

  He harrumphed. “I would expect nothing less from the Madurans.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t think they were Madurans. They didn’t look Ayuri.” No, with the brown eyes and black hair… “They were definitely Cathayi.”

  “The Maduran trade office probably hired some mercenaries. They sure picked some large ones.”

  Very big, probably among the largest people I’d ever seen. “And young, too.”

  “Well, we are safe for now. And we’re here.” He pointed.

  I followed his gesture to the sparkling granite walls surrounding a good-sized villa. A fountain bubbled behind the walls, pouring into what was likely a pond. As a whole, the house was certainly not large or elegant enough to belong to one of the hereditary lords, but perhaps a high-level civil servant. A secretary, or maybe even a minister.

  “Whose villa is this?” I asked.

  “Foreign Minister Song’s.”

  The sound of water churning in the pond beyond the villa walls might have just as easily come from my stomach. And not because of the rice wine.

  “The Foreign Minister is at the reception,” Prince Hardeep said.

  Hand on Tian’s pebble, I twirled a lock of hair. He couldn’t possibly be thinking of breaking into the Foreign Minister’s home! And then stealing a musical instrument. Well, he had his homeland to think about… Still, that was his homeland, not Cathay. Sneaking out of the palace was one thing, but for me to be an accomplice in a theft…no, it just wasn’t right. I shook my head. “We…I can’t do this.”

  His eyes searched mine, shifting back and forth in a mesmerizing wave of blue. So beautiful, and desperate, in need of my help. Shaking my head, I squeezed my eyes shut.

  “It’s okay. I am sorry. I would do anything to alleviate my people’s suffering, except force you to do something that would make you uncomfortable.” His hot hands rested on my shoulders, sending warmth into my core.

  When I opened my eyes, I looked at the pavestones. “I’m so sorry. I do want to help you, but I just can’t trespass and steal.”

  His shoulders shook. He was fighting off laughter! “I think we might have misunderstood each other.”

  “How so?” I tilted my head.

  He pointed toward the elegant iron gates, flanked by two guards. “We would go right in. The Foreign Minister would find a way to deflect a request for the instrument, perhaps even deny he had it. However, his chamberlain would not dare refuse an imperial princess.”

  Heat rose to my cheeks. How embarrassing, to accuse noble Hardeep of thievery. I cast my gaze down. “Okay. Let’s get the lute.”

  He lifted my chin with his calloused fingers to meet his smile. A tingle percolated through me. “Thank you. Everything will be all right. Come.”

  We approached the front gates, Hardeep supporting me. The guards crossed their spears in front of us.

  “Begone,” one of them said.

  Hardeep pressed his hands together. “That is no way to greet Princess Kaiya.”

  “The princess? Impossible.” The other guard snorted. “The Ministry of Appointments would have informed us and she would have come with an entourage of handmaidens and imperial guards.”

  I stepped closer and lowered my hood.

  The guards leaned forward and squinted. Gawping, they dropped to a knee, fist to the ground. “My apologies, Your Highness,” they both said in unison. One turned and called for the chamberlain, while the other opened the gates and invited us in.

  With Prince Hardeep one step behind me, I squared my shoulders and walked into the front courtyard with as much grace as the alcohol allowed. Which was to say, I almost tripped on the borrowed cloak.

  Sharply pitched eaves of green tile capped a spacious one-story residence. Red latticework framed windows in white walls. At the center of the manicured courtyard, a carp pond bubbled. Servants rushed about, whispering my name.

  The chamberlain shuffled out, bowing repeatedly. “Your Highness, what a surprise! Foreign Minister Song and his wife are at the reception, but his eldest son will receive you and your, uh, friend.” He extended a hand toward an oval entrance to the house.

  “Thank you, chamberlain.” I followed him in. Warmth washed over me as we left the cool night air. Bloodwood stands, porcelain vases, and hanging scrolls all decorated the foyer.

  A good-looking young man came out from a side room and bowed low. “Welcome, Your Highness. I am Song Xingyuan, son of Minister Song. I apologize for our meager abode. Please, sit.” He gestured to the side room.

  I nodded and walked through the oval doorway. A red, blue, and white wool carpet from the Ayuri South covered much of the marble tiles. Bloodwood chairs and double chairs surrounded a table with a marble top. Calligraphy and paintings by famous artists evoked a sense of calm and welcome.

  To the side, the sound of my heartbeat echoed off of…I turned my head.

  A lute. Similar in appearance to a pipa, its fretted neck tilted at a sharp angle. It had at least a dozen strings compared to a pipa’s four. Its soundboard was the color of cinnabar, and had a texture similar to leather.

  Avarax’s scale. Focus locked on the lute, I settled on the edge of a chair—and nearly lost my balance. How humiliating. Prince Hardeep remained standing at my side. He leaned in and pointed his chin at the lute.

  Song Xingyuan bowed. “Would you like some rice wine?”

  Tea, an inner voice implored. Still, with Prince Hardeep so close his heat radiated into my core, rice wine seemed more appealing. I nodded.

  With a gesture, Song Xingyuan sent the chamberlain off. He looked at the floor in front of me. “So, to what does my family owe the honor of your visit?”

  I gestured with an open
hand toward the lute. “That is such a beautiful instrument.”

  “I have never seen it before.” Song Xingyuan cocked his head and motioned to the chamberlain as he entered with a porcelain decanter and cups. “Shu, how long has that been there?”

  Chamberlain Shu stared at it while pouring the rice wine. So bedazzled he must have been that the wine overflowed onto the table and splashed. I scuttled back.

  Both Song Xingyuan and the chamberlain were instantly on their feet, bowing repeatedly.

  Prince Hardeep knelt down by my side and dabbed the very small patch of moisture on my knee.

  “Please forgive my clumsiness.” The chamberlain sank to both knees and pressed his forehead to the ground. In two hands, he proffered a silk kerchief.

  “My deepest apologies for our chamberlain’s carelessness.” Song’s head bobbed.

  I waved off their concerns. “I think your carpet might have suffered more than I.”

  Song’s nervous laugh could not have been more contrived.

  Staring at the lute, the chamberlain wiped the table. “It has never left the storehouse. It didn’t have strings before.”

  “How did it get in such a conspicuous spot?” I studied the dark red resonance plate.

  Song Xingyuan exchanged a perplexed look with the chamberlain. “Perhaps my mother got it restrung? She must have had it put there, perhaps before they left for your brother’s reception.”

  The chamberlain nodded. “Yes, there are all kinds of foreign treasures in the storehouse, and Madame Song likes to rotate them.”

  Prince Hardeep, still on one knee, pointed to it. “May I?”

  The chamberlain shuffled on his feet, watching me. He clearly desired to deny the request, but was unwilling to refuse me.

  Etiquette screamed for me not to press the issue, but here laid the salvation for Hardeep’s people. Not to mention, a chance to prove my worth. “Please,” I said.

  With a bow, the chamberlain shuffled to the lute and removed it from the wall. He returned and proffered it in two hands.

  My eyes widened as I received it. Like Yanyan’s pipa, it seemed to have a vibration, a life of its own. So ancient it must be; it smelled like rust. The several pairs of twisted strings shimmered like a wet line of spider silk in the morning sun. I ran my hand over the resonance plate. With its countless ridges, it resembled the cross section of a tree stump.