Way Walkers: Tangled Paths (The Tazu Saga)

by Leigh, J.

  “Well, we get to see the outside at least,” Ass’shiri pointed out, gazing up at the building. “And it sure is something. I have to admit you were right about that.”

  “It is beautiful.”

  The spectacular upward spiral was made up of shaped marble and iron spikes. The structure was held up by a mix of warding and spatial magic. Jathen sat on a nearby bench and sketched until it began to drizzle.

  He rolled up the sketch and stashed it in his pack. Glancing at his watch, he saw it was well past three. “Let’s get some food.”

  Ass’shiri grinned. “And then to the mei.”

  “Hatori is right. You are obsessed.”

  After they’d eaten and visited a new meison, an unseasonably frigid downpour barred their path back to the train station.

  “Let’s just run for it,” Jathen suggested, his mood too good to be dampened by a little rain. He’d found the mei in Fauve to be considerably more accommodating than those in Ca’june, but oddly enough, his disposition was bettered from not finding anyone nearly as interesting as Ishane. It was a strange revelation, and his desire not to think too long on it fueled the decision to go gallivanting about in the downpour.

  Ass’shiri laughed. “We’ll dash between doorways and awnings. We’re a heck of a way from the station, but we’re gonna get soaked either way. And waiting could make us miss the last train.”

  They made a boisterous game of it, darting around other, smarter streetwalkers carrying umbrellas. Then they collided with someone, another poor soul without cover who went teetering to the ground with an angry yelp.

  “Oh, by Spirit, we are so sorry,” Jathen said then tried to help the man to his feet.

  “Stupid ruddy youths!” The man swung his cane sloppily, and Jathen dodged it easily. “Not watching where you are going! Ruddy menaces!”

  “Hatori?” Jathen’s eyes flew wide, and the overpowering odor of alcohol assaulted his nose. “You’re drunk!”

  Ass’shiri tried to usher the struggling and unsteady Clansman under an overhang for some minute bit of shelter.

  “I’m not drunk,” Hatori said, then collided with a nearby wall. “Oh shit. Yes I am.”

  Jathen frowned. “I’ve never seen him like this.”

  “Of course you haven’t.” Hatori hiccupped. “Last time I let loose the stupor of inebriation was when Sacora…” He swatted at Ass’shiri’s proffered hand. “Now Jeph… damn the man to the twelfth level of the ruddy Pit!”

  Ass’shiri whispered to Jathen, “You don’t think they finally had it out, and Jephue actually left him, do you?”

  Hatori snapped, “I should leave him after this, for Spirit’s sake! The man doesn’t know what the hell he wants… never did, not even before… weak-willed stupidity!” He slipped, and they just barely caught him before he fell. His bright eyes actually welled up with tears. “I really do love the bastard, too. That’s the ridiculous part,” he confessed in a choking whisper. “It was always the ridiculous part.”

  “Okay,” Jathen said. “Let’s get you home.”

  He and Ass’shiri got on either side of Hatori and took his arms. They skidded again on the slick pebbles, Hatori nearly taking all of them to the street.

  “He’s not going to make the train station, let alone home,” Ass’shiri said.

  “What do we do with him, then?”

  Ass’shiri gestured across the rain-blurred street with his free hand. “Yuta’s townhouse is not too far from here. At the very least, he can give us a ride to the station.”

  Between the increasingly heavy rain and the slurring, cursing, and slipping Hatori, Jathen was uncertain they’d all make it there alive. When they finally arrived, Jathen knocked on Yuta’s door with enough force to be heard across both sides of the Veil. A girl cracked open the door and peered uncertainly at them.

  “Is Yuta in?” Jathen asked.

  “Oh, no, he’s at the restaurant all night.”

  Jathen’s heart sank at the idea of dragging Hatori all the way to the station.

  A familiar feminine voice called out, “Wait. I recognize that accent.” The door swung inward, and Nosalia appeared. Her Manna-gold eyes widened. “Hatori! What on the continent has gotten you into such a state?” In a flurry of dark pink ruffles, she shuffled them into the parlor.

  “He was moaning on about Jephue,” Ass’shiri said after they’d deposited Hatori on the couch.

  “Is that all? Jeph is fine! I received a letter an hour ago from him. Apparently, he rode out to my estate a few hours back, looking to spend the night. I wasn’t planning on heading back until dawn, so I sent word with one of my men that he was welcome to stay.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I assumed he needed a place to pout off another of their spats. I warned Jeph he shouldn’t take Hatori with him for the first round of property viewing.”

  Ass’shiri frowned, wringing out his dark locks. “I don’t think it was a normal fight. They might have broken it off.”

  “We did no such thing!” Hatori roared, causing even Nosalia to start in surprise. He clarified in a much quieter tone, “I asked him to marry me.”

  Ass’shiri snorted. “Then you are celebrating far too hard.”

  “No.” Hatori’s eyes teared up again. “He said no.”

  The shock at that unlikely answer drove away Jathen’s previous incredulity at Hatori’s proposal. “Why?” He even forgot he was making a puddle on Yuta’s expensive rug.

  “Because he’s a royal peacock-feathered bastard!” Hatori then added in a woeful tone, “And I don’t know.”

  Nosalia shook a finger at him and said in a scathing tone, “He said no because you should have asked him twenty years ago, regardless of all that rot you were spouting about living in the Tazu Nation and how it wasn’t ‘culturally relevant.’”

  “I realize that. I was trying to rectify it. Damn it!”

  She crossed her arms. “With a drink-inspired declaration?”

  “The wine was for courage, woman.”

  “I’m sure.” She sniffed, tossing her hair. “Come. Let’s get your love-struck self upstairs so you can sleep this off, not to mention stop ruining Yuta’s imports. I’ll talk to Jephue in the morning; I always could.”

  “Yes, you could,” Hatori muttered. “Even before, you could.”

  She summoned two servants, who came and helped Hatori off the couch. Turning to Jathen and Ass’shiri, she said, “Well, I suppose the pair of you are here for the night as well. I’ll have some fresh clothes and towels sent down.”

  Jathen asked, “Are you sure Yuta won’t mind?”

  She cocked a delicate eyebrow. “Yuta will do as I tell him to do. Besides, he’ll not be back until nearly dawn, and I’m going to put you two down here and Hatori in the guest room, so he’ll not be put out.” She started up the stairs. “Now, dry off and leave Hatori Chann to me. I’ll be back down shortly.”

  The servants returned with clean clothing and plenty of towels. Jathen and Ass’shiri dried off and changed then settled in front of the fireplace.

  Nosalia came fluttering down the stairs like a ruffled sparrow. “Ugh, this is what I get for visiting Yuta on a new moon!”

  “Will he be all right?” Jathen asked.

  “Oh, he’ll be fine. He just needs a good sleep. And as I said, I’ll talk to Jeph.” She rolled her eyes. “The man always had a damn flair for the dramatic, even when he was a woman.” Jathen’s expression must have shown his shock because she said, “Oh. You didn’t know that?”

  “There’s a lot I don’t know about Jephue’s past,” Jathen said. “But how did he go from being a woman to a man?”

  Nosalia laughed. “No, no. He didn’t change like that. What did Hatori tell you about his life before the Tazu Nation?”

  “Not much,” Jathen s
aid. “He studied in Tar’citadel. Um… I think his mother was a Danielle or something.”

  “Danal. Yes.”

  Jathen nodded. “Yeah. He seemed to admire Yvette Ashton for being a charm master, but he said he left because he’d never get out of her shadow. And he doesn’t like those non-Rheanic Red hunter guys.”

  “The Gray Council.”

  “Yes, that’s it.” Jathen shrugged. “That’s about all I know.”

  Ass’shiri added, “And that’s as much as I know, too.”

  “Interesting.” She measured him for a bit, as if deciding how much to tell him. “So he told you he left because he wanted to get out of Yvette’s shadow?”

  “He said that was one of the reasons.”

  “I suppose that’s partly true.” Nosalia sighed. “Did he ever mention what happened to her?”

  Jathen nodded. “A’ron De’contes. He’s cursed that name a few times, sometimes in conjunction with the Gray Council, sometimes not.”

  “He would.” She leaned back, crossing one delicate leg over the other. “Hatori was, and in truth still is, a fairly high-ranked Clansman, at least he would be if he could go home. You see, he was Yvette’s last apprentice before she died, and indeed he was the one to take on her imperial charm master responsibilities. He was rather integral at court for those next hundred years or so, and he had a front-row seat to not only the initial mystery of Yvette’s murder and the later assassinations of the Emperor Rhean and his wife by De’contes, but the Gray Council’s inquisition as well.”

  “Wait,” Jathen said. “He told me once he had lived during the rule of an Avatar, but he implied having left before Yvette was killed. I always assumed he’d been studying in Tar’citadel at the time. If Hatori was there, then he’s been lying about it. Why?”

  “Hatori is Clan. We all lie to some extent or another… or at least pepper and blend things to better convey what we must. Truth be told, Hatori has many, many reasons to hide who he was then. He hints at his age but often also implies he is younger than those events, and I cannot blame him. Not after what happened.”

  A realization hit Jathen. “The Gray Council’s inquisition. He was accused?”

  She nodded. “And faced a death sentence for high treason.”

  Ass’shiri straightened. “He’s that Hatori? I don’t remember a lot of the details, but my great-grandfather used to drone on about some mystery around how Yvette, an Original, was murdered, and how all these lesser and even a few Grand Artifacts went missing. Now, they later linked her murder to A’ron because the missing Artifacts came into play when he pulled the coup, but they only found most of them. There was always a question of whether they were all accounted for, and if not, who had them.” He made a sheepish face. “He always used to say his money was on Yvette’s high-born apprentice for being the main culprit, if not De’contes. Of course, that would mean…” Ass’shiri glanced at Jathen.

  It would mean Hatori really did change his name, and he has been outright lying about his age. Jathen turned back to Nosalia. “Did Yvette have some of the Grand Artifacts that went missing, and people thought Hatori had them?”

  She nodded. “That was the rumor.”

  “Was that the charge the Grays brought against him?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not officially. The Artifact part was truly a rumor, and it still is, as no one ever had a list of what Yvette had kept of her work, so there was never any real evidence anything was actually missing. They charged him with conspiracy to commit murder and to overthrow the crown. Hatori had done work for De’contes, as had many people.” Anger sizzled in her tone for the first time. “The man was the chancellor, for Rhean’s sake. Hell, he sat at the emperor’s right hand during High Council meetings. Of course a charm master would be taking commissions from him. Hatori didn’t know—none of us knew—what A’ron really was—a master of deception and misdirection. There were wars going on at the border, Red Followers uniting en masse, and talk of another Red Tide in the air. No one expected an attack from within.

  “During the Red Tide, over a hundred immortal Red Mages had spawned from the Middle Lands and cut a swath across the continent. Their goal was to free the legendary Prothidian, who supposedly resided in a cell beneath the capitol of one of the twelve nations. They failed to find him, but the carnage they caused in his name fed legend and nightmares alike.”

  “But why accuse Master Hatori?” Jathen asked. “Was it because of the artifact rumor?”

  Nosalia shook her head. “No. After A’ron fled and claimed sanctuary in Tar’citadel, I think our country went a little mad. Never had one of Rhean’s own struck him down like that. We wanted revenge, but A’ron was out of reach, and more and more people were disappearing every day—fleeing, more than likely. So we created the Grays to find any Red allies. Hatori Chann was one of many brought in and accused, but sadly, because he had done work for A’ron after Yvette’s death, he had actually aided A’ron’s coup. So our country labeled him a traitor.”

  She hung her head. “On the day his sentence was meant to be carried out, Orrick stepped in and had the sentence commuted. The Original Ashton knew Hatori was innocent and that he had been tricked like so many. They spared Hatori Chann with a sentence of banishment, but the night before Hatori was set to be executed, his wife leapt off Clana-Ca’sta’s Cliff.”

  Nosalia’s eyes became glassy. “It took Sacora forty minutes to die. And though she begged—we all begged—they would not allow Hatori to see her.”

  Jathen flinched. “I can guess the rest. Jephue is Sacora, born into another life. That’s why he’s so afraid of heights.”

  Nosalia nodded.

  “Wow! Jephue was a girl in his last life and married to Hatori.” Ass’shiri whistled. “That must have been a weird first meeting.”

  “Yes, it was.” Nosalia smirked. “Karma is an odd thing, dears. Truth be told, Hatori struggled with it for many years, still does to some extent. A lot of Clan over a certain age experiment with quite a few ways of loving, and our Hatori was no exception, especially after he left and came here. But despite some of his mannerisms, he always preferred women.”

  Ass’shiri snickered. “That explains a lot.” Then he sobered. “Though I don’t understand why Hatori hasn’t Changed Jephue.”

  “Changed?” Jathen asked.

  Ass’shiri nodded. “Instead of being born a Clansperson, you can be turned into one if you exchange enough blood with another Clansperson. That’s why we say Born-Clan as opposed to Changed at times.”

  Jathen was stunned. “Wait. So your race can just make more? How has the world not been overrun by Clan, then?”

  “First, it’s not something taken lightly,” Ass’shiri answered. “Both people involved risk death. Also, Changelings are weaker; they can’t ever have children afterward, nor Change others. And it only works on humans.” He turned back to Nosalia. “Can Jephue not be Changed, since he’s half Lu’shun?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure, as he’s actually only a fourth. But the issue is simply that Jeph is too squeamish for a life of blood. And Changelings, for all their benefits, are still not unaging as Born-Clan are. They would gain a hundred years or so together, but in the end, Hatori would still outlive Jephue.”

  “But why did Hatori leave here?” Jathen asked, circling back to the original story. “Why did he go to the Tazu Nation?”

  “A few reasons.” She folded her hands neatly over her knee. “After the whole mess, Hatori stopped working for almost half a millennium. When he met Jephue, he got interested in charm work again. So they left for the Tazu Nation in ’928 for Hatori to apprentice, as he had a lot to relearn and new techniques to acquire.” Her Manna-gold eyes flashed. “The other reason was that the Balori, the new reformed Red followers, had begun to make their presence known here. Hatori could not stomach it. Also, J
ephue had a bad reaction to A’ron De’contes being here.”

  “I understand Hatori’s discomfort,” Jathen said, “but why would Jephue care if De’contes was in the Republic or even here in Fauve?”

  “Jephue has very few actual memories of before, but there are some things he just knows, deep down in his soul: like Hatori’s love, or the fear of heights, or his hatred for the man who betrayed them and caused so much death. And when I said ‘here,’ I meant on my doorstep.”

  “He didn’t!” Ass’shiri gasped.

  Jathen spouted, “Why?”

  “Seeking forgiveness and trying to make amends.” Nosalia smirked. “Or so he said.”

  Ass’shiri shook his head. “Got to say, that Clansman has balls.”

  Jathen stared at Nosalia’s smirk. “And you believed him.”

  She paused for a long while before responding. “A’ron betrayed many people in a lot of ways with the choices he made leading up to, during, and after the coup. The man who came here, though… he was not the same person who had done those things. He had the memories of it, but there was more. I still do not know what to think.” She smiled, dropping the solemnity. “But, being Clan, I have the luxury of time to decide. It has only been a little over thirty years since then. I have barely begun to form a new opinion.”

  With a flourish, she stood. “Now don’t go ratting me out to Hatori and telling him how much I just told you two.” She shot them a glare. “I did so only so you wouldn’t worry about him tonight. He’s been through far, far worse than this. He’s just allowing himself to get caught up in Jephue’s drama.” After one more pointed look, she left them alone.

  As exhausted as he was from the day, Jathen was unable to drift into slumber. Something about all he’d just learned tugged at his subconscious, bringing up images of Dumas talking of ‘the shiver of a rumor,’ then as a cadaver, ‘about a few Clansmen who had found them all several millennia ago and now have got them all hoarded away somewhere. Not that I’m implying your friend would be complicit in any such a thing…’