by JC Kang
There was still a chance.
Kaiya’s pulse thumped in her ears, though not loud enough to drown out the sound of swishing blades and screams. Her stomach twisted in a knot. Tian...
Lights and shadows danced in the third-floor hall behind them, from where rasps of weapons being drawn rang out. The rapid pattering of booted feet coming up the steps grew louder, echoing the pounding in her chest.
They were trapped. She’d be recaptured. With Tian gone, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Better to die here and now than to go back to Geros’ bed.
“Dian-xia, follow Jie up.” The female Moquan urged her forward with a push. “I’ll hold the third-floor landing.”
With a last wistful glance at the stairs where Tian had disappeared, Kaiya hurried up the steps towards the sound of fierce fighting. Reaching the roof, she skidded to a halt. The boy Moquan had fallen, while the young woman drew off four Teleri with her sword. Jie dashed up the steps to the crow’s nest, pursuing several more soldiers trying to retake the tower.
And above, four phoenixes! They circled the roof, their riders loosing arrows at enemy soldiers. Maybe there was a chance. At least for her. But Tian...
Kaiya bent over and picked up a dagger from a fallen Bovyan. Splinters bit at her bare feet as she climbed the winding stair.
A body dropped past her. From above, Jie’s voice called out. “All clear.”
Kaiya looked down. One of the Moquan women hobbled towards the stairs as well. Back towards the opening to the rooftop, there was no sign of Tian or the other female Moquan. Nonetheless, no Teleri burst through the entrance to the rooftop.
The phoenixes were landing as Kaiya gained the crow’s nest. Chest squeezing, she scanned the rooftop again. Still no sign of Tian. She looked askance at Jie.
The half-elf shook her head, her eyes sympathetic. “Please mount up, Dian-xia. I’ll go back down to investigate.”
Kaiya nodded and climbed up behind one of the riders. The last Moquan also reached the top of the platform and eased her way over to the next phoenix.
Below, several Teleri soldiers surged out onto the roof. If they had made it that far...it must mean Tian... No.
A sob wracked Kaiya’s shoulders. In years past, she might have put on a brave face for her people, but for all that had happened to her, all that had been taken from her, the tears trickled down her cheeks.
Jie reappeared on the platform and mounted up behind another rider. Her eyes, too, glistened. She met Kaiya’s stare, her expression quickly turning stoic. “Dian-xia, we must go. Please give the order.”
“Wait...” Kaiya choked on her tears. “There might still be a chance.” A slim chance. Maybe no chance.
The soldiers filed up the steps, their collective weight sending vibrations through the crow’s nest.
“We must go now, Dian-xia.” Jie motioned for the riders to take off.
One at a time, the phoenixes spread their great wings and lifted gracefully into the air. From the higher vantage point, Kaiya continued to look down at the rooftop, hoping beyond hope that Tian would somehow emerge.
“Look!” Jie pointed down towards the southern side of the fortress, now bathed in the light of raging fires.
Kaiya followed the half-elf’s gesture. A single figure fought viciously through waves of enemies.
Tian.
She looked back at the path of carnage he had taken, and to her horror, even at this distance she could pick out Emperor Geros pursuing her beloved at a deliberate pace.
“Fly in closer,” she ordered the rider.
“What?” Voice shocked, the rider turned her head.
“Do as I command!” Kaiya snarled, unslinging the woman’s bow from the saddle and fitting an arrow from the side quiver.
Around her, the phoenixes veered with their leader. Riders shot into the Teleri ranks. Many fell. Others looked up.
Now closer, Kaiya could see Tian clearly. Her stomach twisted in knots. He’d suffered numerous cuts, and his shirt was ripped to shreds. Yet he still fought on.
With a Teleri longsword in one hand and a dagger in the other, he hacked and slashed through the sea of Bovyans. Her heart surged with hope as he cleared the last enemy in front of him and broke into a run towards the palisade.
Geros had watched in admiration as the Cathayi man tore through his soldiers like Tivar’s Archangel of Death. He littered the steps with dead and dying Bovyans, and now somehow gained the yard.
In the bright firelight, Geros remembered having seen the man at the banquet in Iksuvius. At the time, he was just another weakling. He was now proving Geros wrong. He worked his way towards the palisade, and if he managed to get away, Geros would not begrudge him a temporary victory.
One of his officers pointed up. “Cathayi phoenixes!”
Geros followed the gesture. Five huge birds circling downward. The fools! They were descending into crossbow range.
Several ranks raised their crossbows, and Geros lifted a hand, ready to give the signal.
“First Consul!” A male voice called from near the edge of the fortress.
Who dared address him by his former title? Geros looked. It was the Cathayi man, now ignored by his men after their attention turned to the phoenixes. Their eyes met.
Geros feared no one, let alone a lesser human. Nonetheless, a chill flared up his spine at the sight of the man’s singularly focused glare.
Geros took a crossbow from a soldier by his side and leveled it at the Cathayi, who now limped back towards him.
He squeezed the trigger.
The bolt tore across the Cathayi’s arm and ricocheted off the fence.
Unbidden, his own soldiers lowered their weapons and leveled them at the man.
Geros snatched a loaded crossbow and took aim again. Just as he shot, an arrow grazed his own thigh, throwing his aim off. The bolt would have sped past the man’s head had he not plucked it out of the air with a quick swipe of his hand.
Ignoring the pain in his leg, Geros took another loaded crossbow, while looking up to see one of the phoenixes veering. The princess rode astride, a bow leveled at him. Her shot would be ludicrous from that range, launched from a moving platform. He turned his focus back to the man, who now broke into a hobbled run towards him.
A few men took shots at him, but he sidestepped the bolts with remarkable agility.
An arrow from above grazed Geros’ arm, just as he pulled the crossbow trigger. Gritting his teeth at the pain, he watched as his own bolt flew.
It slammed into the man’s right upper shoulder with a dull thud, knocking him onto his back. He tried to crawl to his feet before collapsing into a sitting position.
Above, the princess screamed.
Flashing a taunting grin at her, Geros limped over with another loaded crossbow. Maybe the princess would be stupid enough to come closer. He turned and locked gazes with the man, who stared back with deadly resolve.
Geros almost faltered.
Then, the man’s look faded into a peaceful tranquility, revealing neither fear nor defeat. His eyes rolled back into his head and he went limp, sagging forward.
Geros drove his heel into the man’s chest. When he simply flopped to the ground, Geros knelt down to take the pulse at his neck. Nothing. His own shot should not have been a killing blow, but perhaps all of the other wounds had taken their toll.
Looking up at the princess, his mouth curled into a smile. They now hovered on the outer limits of crossbow range. “Bring those birds down! Take aim!”
His soldiers raised their crossbows in unison.
The phoenixes flapped their wings, gaining height.
“Shoot!”
Clicks of triggers and the twang of bows sounded in unison, sending a deadly barrage into the air.
Fighting through her tears, desperately wanting to recover Tian’s body, Kaiya loosed arrow after arrow in reckless abandon until the quiver was spent.
“Down, down!” she ordered, pounding on the rider’s back with her f
ists. Even still, the phoenix continued gaining altitude.
The rider would continue their escape regardless of what she said or threatened. It was useless. She looked down.
Oh, Heavens, no. Tian’s body lay unmoving. Geros stood above him, shrinking as the phoenix flew. Oh, Heavens, no. Her chest squeezed so tight, it was impossible to take a breath. Jump. She could reunite with Tian in death. It would take all the pain away.
But no. She carried his child. It had to be his. For his child, for his sacrifice, she had to live. Kaiya closed her eyes and sank into the saddle. The rush of cool night air was comforting, but how could she enjoy her freedom? Too much had been taken away from her.
CHAPTER 56:
Farewell
Jie’s logical Moquan mind clashed with her emotions, the conflict between duty and friendship, love and betrayal, tearing her apart more than her elf and human halves ever had. She wiped the tears from her eyes as the phoenixes settled down in the meadow.
Beside her, the princess tumbled from her phoenix and collapsed onto her knees. She wrung her hands, shamelessly crying.
Hollowness seized Jie’s chest. She’d treated Tian so curtly. He’d always survived. He wasn’t supposed to die. She stumbled over and placed a shaking hand on the princess’ shoulder. Wracking sobs reverberated into Jie’s body, and her own tears flowed freely.
The imperial riders and the surviving Moquan sister slid off their saddles. Ma Jun joined them, and all dropped to one knee, fist to the ground.
The princess looked up at her. “We must recover his...their remains. Before the Teleri desecrate them.”
Jie shivered, imagining the Bovyans hacking up Tian’s body. As much as she agreed with the princess, it was an impossible task. And of course, protecting the princess was top priority. She shook her head. “Dian-xia, I am sorry.”
The princess ripped at the collar around her neck, jerking her head from side to side as if it would loosen it. When the collar didn’t so much as budge, she collapsed again, sobbing.
Lana sidled up to the princess, wrapping her up in an embrace. She held the princess’ head to her chest, brushing her hair and whispering words in her own language. Such an open display of sympathy!
The princess nodded a few times before breaking away. She rose to her feet and raked a red-rimmed gaze over all assembled. She then bowed her head. “Thank you all for...for your hard work.”
All of the Hua bowed their heads at the ceremonial words.
The leader of the imperial riders looked up. “Dian-xia, the phoenixes will be too tired after their long flight from Hua. If it is your order, we will rest for night and leave before dawn tomorrow.”
The princess nodded.
Without any bedding, the riders all offered their cloaks for the princess to sleep on. After they settled the birds down, everyone found a place on the ground. Jie stood first watch, but was barely able to take her eyes from the trembling mass of cloaks that was Princess Kaiya.
Kaiya lay awake, curled on herself like a newborn, trying to will away the memories of all the awful things that had been done to her. With Tian gone, she was alone and abandoned, not unlike the feelings that she had suffered as a slave to a depraved man’s sick fantasies.
Her thoughts strayed to her unborn child. Would Hua recognize her marriage to Tian, legitimizing the baby as the scion of the Tianzi and a Tai-Ming family? What if it was the first Bovyan member of the Imperial Family? She balled herself tighter.
It was in this position that Kaiya found herself when she awoke with a start before dawn. It had been the most restful sleep since her capture, the brutal emperor unable to haunt her dreams at least for that night. Warm arms cradled her.
Tian’s? Her heart leaped. Maybe the last month had been nothing more than a horrible nightmare. But no. The arms were too small, the body pressed against hers slight compared to Tian’s. She turned her head to find Lana asleep by her side.
Around her, the camp already stirred, with the imperial riders saddling the phoenixes.
Kaiya lay still, unwilling to rise. She’d once been confident and strong, beloved by her people. Hua’s allies and enemies alike admired her for her poise and ability to manipulate affairs of state. Now, with her dignity stolen from her, she was a dried-out husk of her former self. To make matters worse, the man who’d sworn to love her forever, and with whom she’d shared her most intimate soul, was gone.
She untangled herself from Lana’s embrace and pushed herself into a seated position.
Jie sat cross-legged nearby, watching her, and then transitioned to one knee, fist to the ground. “Dian-xia. I have something for you.” Her voice was hoarse, her eyes red. Walking over, she withdrew a small pouch from her own and placed it in Kaiya’s hands. “These belonged to Zheng Tian. His lockpicks. You should have them.”
Kaiya turned the pouch over in her hands, feeling the weight of it. She opened it to find the rings of the imperial guards. The pouch flap itself was deceptively heavy, with Tian’s haphazard stitching near the edges.
Her shoulders shuddered as sobs threatened to wrack her body again. She so wanted to be strong in front of her people. How had Tian been so focused in their escape?
Her gaze locked on the half-elf. “Jie, what did you do to Tian in the stairwell? How did he bring his anger under control so quickly?”
Jie frowned. “Our clan uses a technique called the Tiger’s Eye. We use it on suicide missions, or on those who have been grievously injured and would not be able to otherwise complete their assignments. It helps him achieve a singular focus and objectivity, feeling no pain or emotion.”
How convenient; a tool to keep someone from crumbling under the weight of their grief. “Can you perform it to someone else? Someone not from your clan?”
Jie’s eyes narrowed. “I am not sure. Someone who has not undergone our mental training might not be affected at all. Or, the effect could be permanent.”
“Then do it to me. I do not want to feel anymore. It is the only way I can survive right now.”
Jie sucked on her lower lip. “Dian-xia... If I do that, then you will cease to be everything that the people love in you...that he loved in you.”
“I am no longer that person anyway. I don’t care. It takes all of my strength and willpower just to draw a breath. I don’t want to feel anymore.”
Jie sighed. “I have told you the risk. Is that your command, my liege?”
“It is.”
Jie dropped to a knee, fist to the ground. “Then I obey.” She took a deep breath and locked her gaze on Kaiya’s eyes. She made a gesture with her hand.
A cool wave washed over Kaiya, all of her racing thoughts and emotions coalescing into a singular focus. The tightness in her neck and shoulders relaxed, and the vice-grip on her chest eased.
For maybe the first time in her life, she achieved absolute mental clarity. Perhaps if she were a Moquan warrior, who served the state unquestioningly, she might have lost herself to obedience to serve her country’s interests—even if those interests conflicted with her own values. Instead, those values of life and dignity became her compass—an unambiguous beacon that would serve as a guide through this difficult time.
She straightened her carriage. “People of Hua, to me.”
The riders, the Moquan, and Ma Jun all dropped to one knee, fist to the ground. “As the princess commands,” they shouted in unison.
“My first command is silence. Even if the Tianzi himself asks you about my relationship with Young Lord Zheng, or the product of our union, you will beg for death before betraying my secret.”
“As the princess commands.”
She turned to Ma Jun. “Imperial guard Ma Jun. You are released from active service to the realm.” Ignoring his shocked look, she held out the rings of the imperial guards who had sacrificed themselves for her. “For now, your duty is to pray for the repose of your fallen comrades in arms: Xu Zhan, Li Wei, Zhao Yue, and Chen Xin. Know that in the future, you may be called upon again. When
you have settled in your final destination, send word to Hua of your whereabouts.”
Head bowed, Ma Jun received the rings. “Dian-xia. Your humble servant accepts your command.”
She took his hands in her own. “Jun, although you have always been my loyal guard, you are also my Maki brother. Please take care of Lana and the village.”
She then turned to Lana and clasped her hands. “Sister, thank you for making me a part of your family, and then coming for me in my most desperate hour. Please take care of Jun for us.”
Lana simply smiled. “Go with the spirits, Sister. Remember that you always have a home here, with us, among the trees.”
After bidding the twins farewell, Kaiya mounted up behind the lead imperial rider. The phoenixes spread their great wings, taking flight. A spring headwind whipped through her hair as the meadow disappeared into the distance, along with the carefree life she’d always wanted.
Late in the day, Kaiya spotted the Great Wall, snaking its way above the forests through Hua’s mountainous border. Stone watchtowers placed every dozen li along the wall sent smoke signals, relaying word of her return.
They landed near the Great East Gate of Hua. Here, the Kanin Plateau ended, and the North Kanin River spilled into the Hua basin as a six-hundred-foot-wide, fifty-foot-high waterfall not far from Tian’s hometown of Dongmen.
Swollen by spring melt, the falls roared above all other sounds. The mist formed a rainbow that danced in the sunlight, providing a spectacular backdrop for the delicate pink plum blossoms that now reached peak bloom. Over the centuries, hundreds of poets had written thousands of verses about the stunning scene.
Kaiya’s reaction was completely different. In years past, she would visit the falls in spring, allowing the breathtaking vista to fill her spirit with inspiration. Today, she did not feel her heart stirring; her mind simply analyzed the composition and mechanics of the scene.
On her command, the imperial riders set the phoenixes down in the central square of a town bordering the waterfall lake.
Dismounting, she turned to Jie. “I am going to Dongmen Castle. Spread rumors that I have sequestered myself there to recover from my trek through the Wilds. Send word to Doctor Wu in the capital to meet me there. I do not wish to see the Tianzi until after I have had time to consult with my doctor.”
