“What sort of problems?”
“Well, to start with, we have mad dragons, the Anyu clan…”
“We know about all of that,” I said. “We’ve done what we can. What else would Kaggawa want from me?”
“That’s not for me to say,” Lahei replied. “There will be enough time for talk later, I think. Your…business…here. Is it finished? We can bring you to the Aina’s Breath in no time.”
“What will you do if I refuse?”
“My queen…”
“I’ve been betrayed too many times in this godsforsaken land,” I said in a low voice. “You know I have nothing else to fall back on. My husband is hurt, I’m down to two soldiers, and there’s Zarojo politicians after me. You’re using my situation to your advantage.”
She looked surprised at my honesty, enough to be speechless.
A log drifting out in the horizon caught my attention as I awaited her reply. I stared at it for a second longer than I should’ve before I realized it was a body, floating face-down. Something clicked, followed by a harrowing thought. Without a word, I waded into the water to get a closer look.
I saw three more bodies as soon as I reached the edge of the rock outcrop. They bobbed silently in the water underneath a mass of shrieking seagulls. In the distance, the sun was beginning to set.
“What the hell is happening?” I heard Nor gasp. One of the bodies drifted close enough for me to grab. I pulled and with some effort, managed to flip it over. The body was bloated, its face black and swollen, but I thought I recognized one of the elders from the village, Mei’s neighbour. Underwater, her white hair spread out like tendrils.
I bit back against the prickling sensation in my stomach as I dragged the body back to the sand. There was no sword mark on it, nothing except a gash on the head, like someone had smashed her with a rock, hard enough to tear the flesh open down to the skull. I also noticed that her arm was twisted unnaturally, as if it was ripped from the socket. And as I stared at her, I thought about what happened up in the temple, how fast the effigies fell. My heart dropped. Nor reached out to say something to me, but I ignored her and sprinted back to the village, to Mei’s house.
The man that had met us at the trail earlier was talking to Khine by the doorway. Before I got within earshot, I saw Khine’s eyes widen.
“No,” Khine mumbled when I reached them. His sleeves were soaked in blood.
“I was trying to tell you earlier—” the man said.
“It’s Mei, isn’t it?” I broke in.
Khine didn’t answer, nor did he look at me. It was as if he had been jolted out of his senses and into a world of his own. I followed him from the elders’ compound all the way to the southern bridge, which ran across the sea towards a small island. A handful of people were on the shore below it. I caught sight of Thao.
“The elders started acting strangely earlier,” she said without bothering to greet us. Her eyes were red, her face white and tear-stained. “They started fighting amongst themselves, said they felt empty—hollow. Like someone was pulling at them with invisible strings. Mother came to try to calm them down, and then…” She turned to me. “You told her it was the priests’ doing. That they’ve been working with mages, that the villagers are being used.”
“It’s true,” I said.
“You told her this. You told her they were tainted.”
“I didn’t—”
“What else did you do?” The accusation bubbled from her throat.
“Nothing,” I said. “I said I was going to fix this. I told her—” They haven’t gone mad, it’s all the mages’ doing…
“She said she could see you and Khine and that you were in trouble. She couldn’t explain what was happening, but she said she couldn’t let this go on any longer, she said she was done being a burden to us all, and that if the other elders were wise, they would...” Thao shook her head. She was beginning to cry again.
“Thao,” Khine said blankly. “Where is she?”
Thao pointed. “She jumped off the bridge. The others followed. What did you tell her?” She grabbed me by the shoulders. Her words tore a hole through me. Worse, though, was the look on Khine’s face, that stricken expression of someone whose life was flashing right before his very eyes. He started for the edge of the shore. I glanced back at Thao, who dug her nails into me before pushing me away in disgust.
Wordlessly, I stumbled after Khine. More bodies were strewn across the shore, but none were what Khine was looking for. With barely a glance at them, he plunged into the water, heedless of the waves. I called for him, but my voice fell on deaf ears. He was too busy searching, calling for his mother. Every wave that came washed my husband’s blood off him…I could imagine the drops spinning into the distance, the current carrying them to the ocean the way it did his mother’s broken body.
Somewhere in my memories, I remembered my father telling me that life wasn’t fair; that for everything you were ever given, somebody paid a price.
~~~
There are many things I have carried to this day, no matter how painful the process of recollection might be. Call it respect, call it penance—a twisted way of punishing myself, though others might tell me I’m not responsible for it, not really. I know only that I burned every moment of that evening into my memory, that even now, all I have to do is close my eyes and I would be there again, watching the circling seagulls and listening to the waves while Khine fell apart in front of me.
Some of the details, of course, have fallen fuzzy over the years. How many times did Khine call out for her, and was I only counting to drown out my own panicked thoughts? Was there hate in his eyes when he looked at me, or did he simply decide I wasn’t there at all?
I know that I stayed with him there the whole night, even after the other villagers had taken away the few bodies that had washed ashore. That he argued with Cho when the boy tried to tell him there was no point, he’d tried to look himself as soon as Mei jumped and would Khine just stop pretending like he could control everything for once? Khine sent him flying across the sand with a fist once he had finished speaking. Cho got up with a split lip and a bruised nose.
“Mother’s dead and you’re still a fucking ass,” Cho hissed. He pointed at me. “You know this is all her fault, right? You’re the one who brought her into our lives! If you’d had known to leave it alone from the beginning…” His words were garbled in his grief, and he stomped off before he could finish what he was saying.
Inzali—Inzali was nowhere to be found. I didn’t have the heart to ask. Something told me that the only reason I stayed was because I didn’t have it in me to leave Khine to grieve alone. Perhaps my guards understood this, because no one came to bother me except when Nor arrived with rice balls wrapped in lotus leaves. Despite everything that had happened, my stomach gurgled at the smell.
“Prince Rayyel is still sleeping,” she said. “You should, too.”
“He won’t want to.” I nodded towards Khine.
“You’ll catch a cold out here.”
“Then bring blankets,” I suggested.
She didn’t argue any further and left me alone. I ate a bit of the rice and saved enough in case Khine wanted any. I didn’t think he would. When my father died, I forgot to eat for two whole days.
The moon came up. After everything that had happened that day, it seemed almost serene—a shadowed grey, waning. Clouds drifted past, not enough to block the light completely; a few wispy white ones along with the odd black, bloated with rain.
“Khine,” I called out to him. “We have to go inside. It’s getting cold.” I took in a lungful of damp air.
He didn’t answer. He had been crying, although the dark did a lot to obscure the tears.
“Khine,” I repeated, hoping the sound of his name would bring him back.
“They did that,” Khine finally said, holding his breath for a moment. He returned to sit a few paces from me. “Most of us would be dead in Yuebek’s courtyard if they didn’t
…sacrifice themselves. I don’t think they even knew what they were doing.”
I wanted to hold him. I tucked my hands into my arms so I wouldn’t give in to the temptation. I didn’t think I wanted to find out if he was going to lash out at me like his siblings had done. Not the most important thing at this time, but I didn’t even know if I could give him comfort if he was of the same mind as them. “Your mother knew,” I whispered instead. “Thao said she had a glimpse of us in the temple courtyard. A link, perhaps, to the dolls. And the others must’ve seen it themselves, or else they wouldn’t have believed her.”
“If I had actually managed to become a doctor…” Khine fell silent, the rage plain on the angles of his face. I suddenly remembered what his mother told me about him. A chipped sword still has an edge. But I couldn’t say it out loud—I felt like I was incapable of saying anything that wouldn’t come out ragged and hollow. What right did I have to intrude on his sorrow, to pretend like I knew anything about his life or that my words meant anything?
It did hurt to understand that even a queen cannot change the ebb of a single life. Perhaps that was why people like my father spoke in multitudes and generalizations. We cloak ourselves in power as if it could make all the difference in the world, but it changes nothing. My father had the largest army in the nation when my brothers died. I knew he would’ve torn himself apart to save them.
I heard footsteps. I looked up and saw Inzali. She was followed by Namra.
Inzali bowed. “You must forgive my family, Queen Talyien. My brother and sister sometimes lets emotions get the better of them.” There was a slight tremble in her voice, but she was calm compared to her siblings. She handed me a blanket.
I glanced at Namra. “Is Lahei still there?”
“Yes. She’s been getting acquainted with the whole situation.”
“She shouldn’t be. You’re aware she’s from the Shadows?”
“I am,” Namra said. “Which is why there’s no point trying to hide this from her. The Ikessars may no longer have the Shadows’ loyalty, but we still know how they operate. And also, she claims to be a servant of the Dragonthrone, which at this point in time may be all we have to hold on to; we don’t have the privilege of being suspicious of everyone.” She cleared her throat. “I left out the part about Yuebek’s involvement with the Oren-yaro, of course. As far as Kaggawa knows, you followed your husband out here and stumbled upon these sinister events entirely by chance.”
“Thank you.”
“Not that it will do you much good if any of his men or Yuebek himself decides to talk. I’m…forgive my candour, Beloved Queen, but I think it’s best that I offer you my advice.”
“What’s on your mind?”
“Dragonlord Rayyel is still unwell. We’ve stopped the bleeding, but Khine says he will need to stay in bed for a few weeks, at least. I know you want to bring him home as soon as possible, but there is wisdom in taking Kaggawa’s offer and heading to Jin-Sayeng now.”
“I’m not going to leave my husband on his own,” I said. “Yuebek may come for him at any moment.”
“With all due respect, Beloved Queen, the only thing this man wants is you, and the further you are from Prince Rayyel, the safer he is.” She gave an apologetic nod. “I’m not proposing that we stay and leave the doors wide open for Yuebek to just come striding in, of course. I have secured Belfang’s cooperation. We can head east and find an inn where my lord can rest undisturbed.”
“Belfang? The priest?”
“He came limping in tonight. He will not speak of what happened back there, only that he is done with Prince Yuebek. He believes that Yuebek will try to rally more men and come for you as early as tomorrow. He says that he will raze the entire village and leave no stone unturned.”
“I don’t know if we can trust the man.”
“I’m aware he could be a rat. But a watched rat is better than one lurking in the shadows. Trust me on this, my queen.”
“But that’s…I can’t leave now if you put it that way.”
Inzali cleared her throat. “I’ve spoken to Iri Feng about all of this. We’re leaving with what remains of the village, hopefully before Prince Yuebek arrives. Belfang’s words were enough to sway her—her father died up there, you know.” I tried to pretend that didn’t bother me. “With you heading back north, Prince Rayyel east, and the rest of the villagers scattered, this monster will be welcomed by nothing but empty houses. We’ll return when it’s safe, perhaps find time to bury our elders.”
I curled my hands into fists and glanced towards Khine. He was staring at the sea like we weren’t there, transfixed by the odd shape the moon made on the water’s edge. “And him?”
“I wonder if you could take him. If it’s not too much trouble.”
My heart leaped at the words, but I fought to suppress it. “It’s too dangerous.”
Inzali gave a grunt of acknowledgement. “Still, there is nothing for him here but painful memories and lost dreams. It was difficult enough for him when our father died. I still remember how deep he fell. I didn’t think he’d ever come out of it. And now this...” She tightened her face for a moment, choking back her own grief. “I…I will ask Cho to go with you, too. I am not trying to foist a burden on you, you understand. You’re a queen, we’re nothing. But I know he can be of some use to you, and you seem to enjoy his company.”
“It’s not a burden,” I said. “But…”
“Please, Queen Talyien. I just lost my mother. I will not lose my eldest brother, too.”
“You know the troubles that follow me,” I said. “You’d entrust your brother to that? To what I am and what I’m about to face?”
Her voice was like cut steel.
“He’s got nothing else.”
ACT TWO
The Rubrics of Rule
Chapter One
An Mozhi of the Cliffs
The woman who sat with my husband’s hand in hers that early morning before we left for An Mozhi was not the same one who ventured to Anzhao City all those months ago.
That one, I think, had her life all figured out, her father’s daughter without question. She had suffered an insult and was acting as best as she knew it. She belonged in the history books, the pillar on which Jin-Sayeng’s peace depended; there is still a tapestry of her somewhere in Oka Shto, I think, overlooking a crowd of bent warlords in the shadows, a ray of sunlight over her. In the tapestry, she is wearing a wolf head-dress instead of a crown, a blatant attempt by the artist to hint at Oren-yaro superiority.
That woman would’ve known what to do. She would’ve ordered her ailing husband home with her anyway—dragged on a litter if she had to, to hell with the consequences. She wouldn’t be sitting there in confusion, her fear overriding all sense. To trust an agent of the Shadows, among all things…
Frayed minds lead to frayed decisions, or so my father liked to say. Mei’s death was the last straw. I think if things had not gone down the way they did in the temple, I would’ve fought like a mad dragon for my desire to bring things back to the way they were. I could even still hold on to my denial of my own father’s involvement in the events. Whispered to me in the dark, it could’ve been a lie. Said out loud in front of my husband, with such conviction and display of power…
Even the words my husband had lost all meaning. I stared at Rayyel’s unmoving form, the after-effect of an herbal infusion Khine had forced into him during his procedure. He would sleep for another day or two, I was told. I went over his features like I must’ve done over a hundred times in the past, trying to place him against the man in my memories. He had aged in the last six years. There were lines where there weren’t before and splotches of white hair along his temples. The Ikessars greyed prematurely—another mark of the line he carried as surely as if he wasn’t a bastard. His elders ought to be proud.
I took a deep breath. I had defied counsel to go to Rayyel and bring him home, and here I was on the verge of abandoning him, half-dead, to strangers. As faith
ful a servant as Namra had been, as reliable as Inzali had proven herself to be, I was his wife. That meant something once by itself, didn’t it?
I squeezed his hand. He didn’t squeeze back. I fought back a grin. No difference, then; if he had been awake, he would have reacted exactly the same way.
Agos appeared at the doorway. He paused as he looked at me, head slightly bent. I studied his face at that angle, contrasting it to Rayyel’s. I think I was trying to find my son in either of them.
“You saw Lord Ozo before you left to find me,” I said in a low voice. “How much do you know about Yuebek’s claims?”
“Nothing that will ease your mind,” Agos replied. He shuffled his feet. “If General Ozo knew anything, he certainly didn’t tell me.”
“How did he react when you said you were going after me?”
“Wondering how deep this runs, eh?” Agos asked. “He didn’t want me going after you at all. Said it was going to spark war. Called me a fool and a boy and—oh. I see what you’re thinking.” He snorted. “Could be he meant everything he said. Wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Or Yuebek was telling the truth, and Ozo is working with him to trap me into this marriage.” I nearly spat the last word out.
Agos’ face was twisted in confusion. “You know I don’t give a rat’s ass about your politics,” he said. “Me, all I want is to see you home safe. You don’t have to worry one way or another who put me up to it. No one did. I’m here because I want to be. Because I belong…” And here he stood up, chest puffed for a moment before his eyes darted away. “—with you,” he finished with a mumble.
“And I’m thankful for that, Agos. More than you realize.” I wasn’t sure why I felt like I needed to reply. The Talyien of seven months ago wouldn’t have. She would’ve taken him for granted. She already had taken him for granted, more than once.
The Ikessar Falcon Page 19
