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

by CK Dawn

  The enemy leader turned back and frowned at me, then beckoned the prisoners. “Hands on your head. Come on, hurry. Help your wounded comrades if they need it.”

  I evaluated my unit. A few lay unmoving on the bridge or sprawled over the edge, and those at the back of the line appeared to have suffered varying degrees of arrow wounds. Still, most seemed uninjured. Many bowed their heads to me as they passed.

  I searched for Su, the boy who’d travelled with me, helped me pick up the slack when my energy flagged. There he was, his arm hanging from another young man who helped him limp along. An arrow protruded from his back. I pushed my way through the others and took his other arm.

  He looked up through drooping eyes. “Are you really Princess Kaiya?”

  Despite his labored breaths, his tone sounded…hopeful. I nodded.

  “Then it is my honor to die for you.” He started to drop to a knee in salute.

  I clasped his hand. “You aren’t going to die.” Though it wasn’t like I could tell, and blood flecked his lips.

  The boy on the other side of him met my eyes and shook his head. “You saved us all.”

  Not all. Now that many of my adopted unit had been taken to the castle, I could see arrows protruding from some of the bodies. Doctor Wu had taught me enough about anatomy for me to recognize that at least two of the boys would not draw another breath. My stomach churned, and it was all I could do to force down the vomit. Even now, Lord Tong’s men were throwing their remains off the bridge. Others, like Su, might not survive.

  With much of his weight on my shoulders, I trudged over the bridge. At the gatehouse, I risked a glance back. No sign of the imperial banners, even though the drumbeats grew louder.

  On the other side of the gatehouse, I walked out into another bare yard, surrounded by high, crenelated walls. If an invading army somehow made it over the bridge, they would be trapped at low ground, easy targets from all sides. Just like me and my comrades were now. The men atop the walls trained repeating crossbows on us.

  The gates ahead were open as soldiers escorted the prisoners and pulled the stolen supply wagons through. If we were to be slaughtered here, the gates would be closed to bar escape. Passing through the second gatehouse, the commander led us not to the next part of the castle, but down into rough-hewn tunnels.

  The air grew chill and stale, and my skin crawled as the walls pressed in around me. “What is this place?”

  One of the boys ran a hand over a column. “I would guess these were mines.”

  I shuddered. If Wailian had that much firepowder, and if it were stored down here, one accident could cause the supposedly impregnable castle to implode. And I’d be buried under it all, unable to breathe…

  Sweat gathered on my neck as my hands trembled. I turned to our nearest captor. “I am Princess Kaiya. These men need medical attention. And I demand to speak with Lord Tong.”

  He shoved me in the back. “Keep moving. Someone will confirm your identity soon enough.”

  Thankfully, after a few more steps, the corridor opened into a large chamber. I took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from my brow.

  The injured lay on blankets while healers tended to their wounds. One of the boys screamed as they pulled an arrow out of him. My chest ached at the pitiful moans. Still, I knelt by Su and held his hand.

  Someone grabbed my shoulder in a heavy grip and spun me around. A larger boy from the regiment glared at me. “If I’m going to die, I’m not going to die a virgin.”

  My mind blanked.

  Several other hands seized the boy and pulled him back as he struggled.

  “You ingrate,” said another one of the boys. “She saved our lives.”

  A spear butt crashed into the offender’s head, sending him to the ground. One of the enemies raised the spear again. “Stay quiet. Nobody touch her until we learn her identity. If she’s no one important, you can have her. After we’re done, that is.”

  I clenched and unclenched my sweaty hands. Surely, someone would be able to identify me. Some of the boys, led by Su’s friend, formed up around me.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “We won’t let them do anything to you.”

  The reassurance wasn’t enough to slow my thumping heart, though the sentiment was kind enough. If I were in a position of real importance, beyond just a political tool, I’d reward him and the others who defended me.

  For now, though, I’d have to wait. If my captors had bothered to tell Lord Tong, the decoy might fare worse than me.

  Twenty-Three

  Unmistaken Identities

  Cradling Su’s head in my lap, I hummed a lullaby while trying to ignore his labored, dying breaths. Time dragged between each shorter inhalation. Tears welled in my eyes. I should have never come with the wedding procession, should have just stayed in the safe confines of Sun-Moon Palace. Brother Kai-Wu would be getting married tonight, and I’d miss it.

  And for what? I was stuck in an old mine, with at least one boy who wanted to take my virginity, and apparently no chance of singing Lord Tong into surrender. How foolish I’d been, to think I’d ever be more than a political tool.

  I reached down and clasped Su’s hand. His cold fingers stung mine, and I almost pulled back. His lips were pallid. I shook him. “Wake up, Su. Wake up.”

  His friend shook his head. A tear slid down his cheek and plopped onto the rough-hewn floors.

  My chest tightened, and my shoulders heaved. No, I couldn’t cry. Not when all these boys saw me as an imperial princess. Sniffling, I straightened my spine and squared my shoulders.

  The metal door swung open. I turned to see. To berate whatever guard came in, for letting a boy die. My heart leapt into my throat.

  Chen Xin, Zhao Yue, Li Wei, Ma Jun, and Xu Zhan spilled in, their faces bruised and their blue robes torn in places, their magic breastplates taken. Oh Heavens, if my personal guards were prisoners, it meant that the decoy—Hardeep—had failed.

  I gently laid Su’s head on the ground and stood. “Guards.”

  Their eyes widened in unison. It would have been funny if not for the grave circumstances. Immediately, they sank to their knee, fist to the ground. “Your Highness,” they shouted.

  “It’s true!” one boy said.

  “She is the princess.” Another could barely speak.

  “She saved us.”

  The boys dropped to their knees and pressed their foreheads to the ground.

  I certainly didn’t feel like a princess, wearing just a ripped-up inner gown, my shins exposed when I took off the shorn sleeves of my outer gown. “Rise. You knew me as Wang, and so it shall be now.” I turned to Chen Xin. “What happened?”

  “Your Highness,” he said. “Why are you here?”

  Why indeed. The truth would make me look even more stupid than I felt. I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. Tell me, what happened?”

  He sighed. “Lord Tong knew our plan. He separated us from the rest of the procession, and then ambushed us in the gatehouse.”

  “And Hardeep?”

  Chen Xin cocked his head. “The foreign prince?”

  I nodded. “Wasn’t he my decoy?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It was…it was…Deputy Yan’s daughter.”

  Now it was my turn to stare at him incredulously. “That strange minister?”

  Chen Xin nodded. “She helped us track you down the night you went missing.”

  A reminder of yet another stupid choice. I swept my gaze over the guards. “And Kai-Long—I mean, Lord Peng?”

  They exchanged glances and shrugged.

  Ma Jun said, “We were fighting with our knives, in the dark. It was almost as if our opponents could see, even when we couldn’t. When they subdued us and opened the doors, Lord Peng, his aide, and—”

  The door creaked open again.

  Two enemy soldiers thrust a man dressed in the colors of Kai-Long’s Nanling Province in. He stumbled face-first into the ground. The imperial guards flipped him ove
r.

  “The aide.” Xu Zhan pointed to the markings on the man’s collar and then looked up at me.

  I nudged the guards to the side and studied the unmoving man’s face. Bronze, not honey-toned like us; a high-bridged nose.

  No, it couldn’t be.

  Heavens…Prince Hardeep. I patted my hands over him, checking for injuries. He had no visible wounds, but he didn’t look to be breathing. I leaned over and pressed my ear to his heart.

  Nothing. My own heart might have stopped. No, they wouldn’t have brought him here if he were dead. I closed my eyes.

  Something pulsated. Slow, resolute, like waves pounding against a sea wall.

  I let out a long sigh and looked up at my men. “How did you not recognize him as the Ankiran Prince?”

  The guards exchanged shrugs. Li Wei said, “He wore a helmet the whole time, and never left Lord Peng’s side.”

  And now, not even his Paladin skills could save him from the trap. This was my fault, too. Doubting my progress in musical magic, Hardeep had likely made a deal with Father. Join in the attack on Wailian Castle in return for Cathay helping to repel the Madurans. Despondent, I hummed again, imitating the lute song he’d taught me.

  He blinked several times and focused on me. “Princess Kaiya! What are you doing here?”

  Heat flushed in my cheeks. Looking around, hoping no one spoke Ayuri, I said, “I had hoped to use the lessons you taught me. I wanted to sing Lord Tong into submission. I don’t think he’ll see me. I’m so sorry.”

  His hair swept through the dirt as he shook his head. “There is nothing to apologize for. When Lord Peng told me of his plan, I volunteered to help, to vanquish Lord Tong so that you would not have to marry him. I came for you.”

  I’d been wrong. He hadn’t made a deal. Tears threatened to blur my vision. Oh, to be able to thank him with the only thing I could give. Cradling his head, I leaned in, eyes closed, lips parted. Who cared if my men saw? My first kiss, maybe my only kiss, would belong to him. None of the guards moved to intervene.

  The door groaned open again. His head snapped in the direction of the sound, just before our lips met.

  No! I looked up to see who’d interrupted us now.

  Eight soldiers, including the leader who’d captured them, stood by the doors.

  “Princess Kaiya,” the leader said. “Lord Tong will see you now.”

  One of the soldiers stepped in and seized my arm.

  The imperial guards leaped to their feet, ready to intervene, even without weapons. Throwing their lives away, for me. The boys, too, all pushed forward.

  I raised a hand. “Stand down. I will meet with Lord Tong.”

  My guards hesitated, yet their every muscle twitched.

  Hardeep staggered up. He stomped a foot on the ground. “Stop.” His voice echoed in the cavern, the vibration shaking in my core.

  Around me, everyone froze in place.

  He looked from guard to guard, then to the boys. “There is no need for anyone to die. Trust your princess.”

  He had spoken in Ayuri, but the imperial guards and the boys all shrank back. The tension in their postures melted.

  I exchanged a smile with Prince Hardeep. “Thank you. I will end this war now.” I walked out of the prison surrounded by traitors. If only I felt as confident as I let on.

  They marched me out of the tunnels, and I gulped the fresh air. No matter what happened, at least it would happen above ground. Through the yard, we headed to the five-story main keep. After passing through yet another gatehouse, we arrived in the inner bailey. Servants opened the double doors.

  The nightingale floorboards chirped under my tattered slippers. The sound was meant to deter spies, but right now gave me comfort. It was also a rhythm that I might be able to borrow. Another set of double doors slid open, revealing an audience chamber.

  Two men guided me into the room, where I was greeted by the scrutiny of several important-looking warriors. At their head sat a middle-aged man with a round face and flat nose. A flabby paunch poked out from under his green robes. Failing to sing him into surrender would mean enduring him, acting out the pictures of the pillow book. My shudder was interrupted when he reached down and placed a musical instrument on his lap.

  The Dragon Scale Lute.

  How did he come by it? Hadn’t the Maduran agents taken it?

  “Do you like it?” A grin formed on his lips. He gestured toward a cushion in front of him. When he spoke, it sounded like rocks rattling in a sack. “My agents retrieved it. Please, Your Highness, sit.”

  My eyes must have betrayed me. Brushing my shredded inner dress to my shins—well, the hem didn’t reach that far anymore—I knelt. “Lord Tong—”

  “Master. You may call me Master.”

  His men chuckled. Heat flared in my cheeks. Not like we were even married yet. I opened my mouth to protest.

  “We will be wed at midday, before your brother’s wedding. I will marry into the Wang family and invest my ancestral tablet into your family temple.”

  In less than two hours. Why so urgent? And why would a powerful lord wish to forsake his ancestors and take on his wife’s name? I raised an eyebrow.

  “You are wondering about the immediacy, wondering why. Before your brother speaks his vows before Heaven, my allies will slaughter him, the Crown Prince, the Emperor, your paternal uncle and his sons. The old Lord Peng and his heir are dead, and the current Lord Peng is in my custody. All heirs to the Jade Throne will be dead, leaving only you, a girl, with imperial blood.”

  My head spun. How could this even be possible?

  He grinned “You will obey me. Otherwise, your men will die. The imperial expeditionary army is trapped, and we will crush them.”

  My blood ran cold. Not because of his threat, but because his finger rested on one of the lute strings.

  My shoulders froze; my heart hurt so badly it must have stopped. If he strummed…

  He did. The finger flicked across the string.

  The sound came out flat, lifeless, even duller than a regular musical instrument. How could that be? When I’d played, its song had radiated out in eerie desolation and sent warriors into a panic. Now, it merely vibrated, perhaps only loud enough for my keen ears to pick up. Maybe its magic had been depleted.

  “I fail to see what is so special about this.” He grinned so the edge of his lips nearly touched the flabby crinkles in the corner of his eyes.

  Straightening my spine, tilting my chin, I locked gazes with him. The lute string still buzzed, lending me strength I didn’t have on my own. Like the interplay of my music teachers’ duet, I’d merge the lute’s frequency with Lord Tong’s heartbeat.

  Rooted to the ground, your spine aligned, let your heart impel your voice. Listening for Lord Tong’s pulse, I rose and gripped my feet to the floor. Where was his pulse? In this room, with poor acoustics, it hid among the other sounds. Still, I had to try, had to guess. I hummed to the frequency of the lute string.

  His fingers quivered. His men rocked on their feet. It was working! The rebellion, put down by a girl!

  My vitality guttered. My already depleted spirit wavered, unable to sustain the hum. It began to crack.

  Then my energy failed. My knees buckled, and I dropped to the floor.

  Lord Tong straightened. He lifted his chin to one of the soldiers. “Start the attack. Crush the imperials.” He then turned to me. “Let me show you where you will be spending most of our married life.”

  Twenty-Four

  Songs of Despair

  The cannons boomed and musket fire crackled in the distance as I pressed my palms to the floor and tried to push myself up. With supreme effort, I brought a hip under myself. Trying to channel magic into my voice had left my limbs languid, my core as flaccid as egg custard, and my head muddled like heavy fog.

  And I’d failed.

  Now, loyal men died at the castle gates because of my vanity, my belief that I could sing Lord Tong into submission. Instead, he devoure
d me with his eyes, his pig face contorted into a feral expression reminiscent of a wild boar about to feast on truffles.

  His cushion hissed as he rose from the gaudy chair and set the Dragon Scale Lute onto the seat. He knelt down beside me. “What’s wrong, my slave? No magic on your lips?”

  I gawked at him. How did he know?

  He placed two fingers under my chin and lifted it. “Of course my spy told me about your efforts.”

  Spy…no wonder he knew about the music. About the trap. And the lute.

  “I am just glad you didn’t give yourself to that foreigner. I will be your first. Your only.” He withdrew his hand. “Now, kneel before me. Show me you have at least a remote semblance of grace.”

  No. No matter my shortcomings, I still had my dignity. I glared up at him.

  He clucked his tongue. “My, my, you do have some spirit, after all. I will have to break you of that. Now kneel, and maybe, just maybe if you are fast enough, I’ll spare the foreigner.”

  My chest scrunched. I brought my knees up under me.

  “Avert your gaze. You will not make eye contact with your master.”

  All the better to hide the tear forming in my eye.

  “Now, kowtow before me.”

  I shook my head. An imperial princess could only show such complete submission to the Emperor himself.

  “Hurry, and I will call off the attack. Think of the lives you will save.”

  What choice was there? He held all the leverage. I pressed my forehead to the floor, completely defeated by this vile traitor. To think he’d use marriage to establish a legitimate claim to the Jade Throne. Tears trickled down my cheeks and plopped onto the floor.

  He snapped his fingers and one of his men shuffled over, then waddled back. Kneeling over, the closeness of his large body muffled the sounds around us. His breath tickled my ear. “I am your master now.” Something cold and smooth wrapped around my neck. It tugged and twisted at my nape.

  A collar?

  “You belong to me.” He stood and laughed; a taunting chortle, reducing me to something small and insignificant. How mortifying.