Kushiel 03 - [Moirin 01] - Naamah's Kiss

by Jacqueline Carey

  My mentor nodded. “And you had no cause not to trust Lord Jiang’s own physician. It tasted of vinegar, did it not?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  He took a few steps, turning away from all of us. “It is well known that a dragon hides the essence of his spirit in a great pearl,” he said in a low tone. “As it is well known that a pearl dissolves in vinegar. When I was a young man, I did many foolish things in the pursuit of ambition. One of these things was to lull a dragon to sleep and steal his pearl.”

  Two things came together in my mind.

  “Oh, gods!” I blurted out the words without thinking. It made sense. The child. The pearl. “Lord Jiang’s physician, Black Sleeve. He’s your son.”

  Master Lo bowed his head. “Yes.”

  SIXTY-TWO

  A moment of silence followed Master Lo’s revelation.

  Emperor Zhu broke it by swearing, crashing his fist into his other hand. “So, old friend. Leaving aside the matter of Black Sleeve’s paternity, how do we get the dragon out of my most treasured daughter?”

  HOME!

  I winced at the sudden joyous thunder of the dragon’s voice in my thoughts and echoed the word. “Home.”

  Bao gave me a curious look. Master Lo inclined his head. “My pupil is correct. Snow Tiger must journey to White Jade Mountain, where the dragon resides. Only in the lake where the snow-capped peak is reflected can she disgorge the pearl.”

  Home…

  It was a more wistful tone. In my head, I saw a dizzying aerial image of a white mountain-top reflected in the pristine waters far, far below. “You see yourself,” I murmured. “That’s why it’s important to you. It’s part of what you are. That’s why it maddens you to see and not be seen, not to see yourself reflected.”

  Yes, the dragon agreed. It is better not to see at all.

  “Are you talking to it?” Bao asked me suspiciously.

  “Aye.”

  He shook his head. “You get stranger and stranger every day.”

  The Emperor was pacing, yellow robes swirling. Helpless attendants trailed in his wake. Behind the bars, Snow Tiger stood with her head tilted, concentrating on listening. “White Jade Mountain is deep within Lord Jiang’s territory,” the Emperor mused. “But surely he will call off this war once he knows what Black Sleeve has done, and that it is no demon my daughter houses.” He gave a decisive nod, beckoning to an attendant. “I will send word to him at once.”

  “Unless…” Master Lo said softly.

  “What?” Emperor Zhu turned on him.

  “Unless he already knows, Celestial Majesty.” My mentor met the Emperor’s gaze fearlessly. “We do not know that Black Sleeve acted without Lord Jiang’s blessing.”

  The Emperor recoiled. “You suggest that Jiang Quan would sacrifice his own son?”

  “He has three sons, Celestial Majesty.” Master Lo lowered his head in deference. “It would be a terrible thing to do. And yet…” He gestured at Snow Tiger. “What befell your daughter gave him cause to challenge the Mandate of Heaven.”

  “Also, he tried very hard to stop us from coming here,” Bao added. “I do not think he wishes the Noble Princess to be saved.”

  My skin still prickled, and there was a strange pressure rising in the courtyard that had nothing to do with the issues being debated. Come, the dragon crooned in my thoughts. Here, now. I glanced over at Snow Tiger and took a few steps toward her, compelled by the force of it. Her body was rigid, hands still locked on the bars. The pulse in the hollow of her throat beat visibly.

  “What are you doing to her?” I whispered fiercely. “Why?”

  “… simply cannot believe…” the Emperor’s voice trailed away in the ringing that filled my head.

  I am making amends, the dragon said simply. I understand now. I caused her mate to be killed. I have chosen you to replace him.

  A short, horrified laugh escaped me. “You can’t!”

  You see me. There is no one else.

  Snow Tiger’s tense, blindfolded face swung my way. “Can you make it stop?”

  It wasn’t hurting her. It was untwining the strands of horror and desire, trying to separate them and spin something pure and bright and joyous out of it, a rising spiral of yearning born out of the dregs of panic and terror. Now that it had found a way to communicate with her through me, it was trying to make up for the terrible loss it had caused her. But it was too much, too powerful—a dragon’s understanding of desire, filled with thunder and lightning.

  And she was fighting it.

  “Stop,” I said to the dragon. “You have to stop! She’s only human!”

  I cannot. There was regret in its tone—and truth. I have chosen you. Once a dragon’s mating is begun, nothing under Heaven can halt it.

  “… if you are wrong, Celestial Majesty, we tip our hands,” Master Lo was saying. “Is it not better to preserve an element of surprise?”

  “Is it not worth the effort to avert a war?” Emperor Zhu shook his head. “No, no, old friend. We will bargain in good faith. Have you not always bade me to seek the most harmonious path?” He clapped his hands together briskly. “Now! I will have a missive to Lord Jiang prepared. You shall be fed and lodged as heroes!”

  NO!

  “Let me stay.” The words fell out of my mouth. I drew a deep breath, shuddering all over. “Forgive me, Celestial Majesty. But let me stay.”

  “Noble Daughter?” The Emperor sounded doubtful.

  She was silent a moment. “The dragon within wishes it so.”

  Master Lo folded in his sleeves and bowed. “My pupil Moirin is of royal blood from two lands, Celestial Majesty. She has attended a queen before.”

  I wondered if he had any idea.

  Bao made a choked noise.

  He knew.

  And yet I could not choose otherwise. I stood to one side as a tall court eunuch with an impressive chain of office came forward to unlock the princess’ cage. Snow Tiger retreated to the doorway of her living quarters, a slight and still figure glowing in the fading light, the crimson scarf bound over her eyes.

  I entered her cage.

  The iron gate clanged shut behind me. I was alone with the princess and the dragon.

  On the far side of the bars, Master Lo regarded me with a worried gaze. But it was Bao who came forward, strong, brown fingers lacing around the bars.

  “You’re sure?” he asked. I nodded, unable to speak. “Stupid girl.” He breathed the words in the tongue he had taught me himself, one hand reaching through the bars to caress my cheek. “Try not to get killed.”

  Tears stung my eyes. “I’ll try.”

  And then they left, and we were truly alone. Unsure what to do, I followed the princess as she turned and entered her quarters, keeping a respectful distance behind her.

  It was growing dark inside her rooms. I busied myself by lighting a dusty taper from a smoldering brazier, then kindling the lamps with their red silk lanterns. They cast a warm glow that should have been comforting.

  It wasn’t.

  Snow Tiger paced like a caged… well, like a tiger. The air around her quivered with fury and urgency. The spiral of desire was rising—higher and higher, tighter and tighter. “You cannot make it stop?”

  I shook my head, forgetting she couldn’t see. “He says he cannot. I do not think he lies, my lady.”

  “Of course he doesn’t lie!” She whirled on me. “He’s a dragon!” Not knowing what to say, I was silent. She wrapped her arms around herself as though to keep herself from shivering apart under the rising pressure. With a visible effort, she forced herself to speak evenly. “Forgive me. Your magic. What is it? What does it do?”

  I made a helpless gesture. “It’s… difficult to explain. My people, the Maghuin Dhonn, we were great magicians once. We could see many paths into the future. We could take the shape of the Great Bear Herself. No longer. This gift is all that is left to us.” I shrugged. “When I was younger, I was told it was a way to conceal ourselves, to hide. Now I
think it is something more. It is a way of taking half a step into the spirit world beyond. Strange things happen there.”

  Her arms tightened. “You took me into the spirit world?”

  “Halfway.”

  “I see.”

  “We call it summoning the twilight.” I breathed the Breath of Trees Growing, remembering green Alba where my mother had first taught me, and found a calm point within myself. I called the twilight and breathed it out softly, wrapping it around the entire room. The world glimmered, the glow of the red lanterns turning silvery.

  Yes! Come, here, now!

  Snow Tiger’s head snapped up. She was breathing hard and fast, fingers gripping her arms so hard I thought they would leave bruises. Still, her will didn’t waver. “It is not safe for you to be here. I should not have let you stay.”

  “Mayhap.” Swallowing hard, I crossed the room and untied her blindfold. “But I fear it is already too late for me to leave, my lady.”

  The dragon roared in exultation. I saw it reflected in her eyes, as it saw itself in mine. Her hands dropped to her sides, fists trembling. She lifted her chin.

  “I want…” she said in a low voice. “I need…”

  “I know,” I whispered.

  And then her hands were at my head, pulling it down sharply, and her mouth was on mine, fierce and urgent. A dragon’s desire, spun out of panic. I was caught in its coils, and it was strong enough to kill me. I struggled against it, struggled against the terrifying leap of blood in my veins, struggled to draw breath. The pressure of her fingertips was so strong it felt like my skull would burst. In a distant part of my mind, I wondered if anyone had ever been kissed to death before.

  Gentle! I flung out the thought like a desperate lifeline. Be gentle!

  It was not gentle.

  It eased enough to spare my life, but it was not gentle, and I have no words to describe it. There was no place in this coupling for tenderness or artistry. It was like the great storm at sea, savage and powerful, terrible and beautiful. Her hands tore at my robes and hers—to no avail, I tried to slow her, tried in vain to find a measure of gentleness that the dragon’s unleashed desire superseded. Gods, she was strong! Unnaturally strong, dragon-ridden. Her whole body shuddered when I slid my hand between her thighs, slid two fingers deep inside her. Slender limbs, dragon-strong, coiled around me.

  Yes! That is what I awoke to. That is the gift I restore!

  Not exactly, I thought—but close enough. And riding above us like the storm above the sea was a dragon’s memory of mating, filled with clouds and rain and thunder, gleaming coils intertwining, flashing in the bursts of lightning.

  Snow Tiger cried out loud, pressing against me so hard I thought my wrist would break or my ribs shatter.

  And then it was over.

  The dragon sighed, content. The storm had passed, leaving only a few clouds drifting over the moon, the seas calm below.

  The princess released me and pulled away, withdrawing into herself. She sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, gazing through the open doorway at the twilit garden beyond, her slender back fiercely upright. I stayed where I was, wishing I had the faintest idea what to do or say.

  “Thank you.” Her tone was unreadable.

  I inclined my head, unseen. “My lady.”

  “Dragons mate in the skies, don’t they?” she mused. “It was fearful, yet lovely.”

  “You saw it?”

  “Yes.” Her shoulders moved. “Through you, I think. You and the magic you summon. Tell me again, what is your name, Master Lo’s pupil?”

  “Moirin.”

  Her head turned slightly, revealing her delicate profile. “Moirin. It is late, and you should go. I cannot know what harm I might do in my sleep. I will summon an attendant to release you.”

  The dragon stirred. I would never harm you.

  “He said—”

  “I heard. I am learning to hear in this twilight of yours. Still, I would prefer that you go.”

  I wondered if it were for my sake or hers. “As you wish, my lady. I will have to release the twilight.”

  “Ah, of course.” Snow Tiger rose in one impossibly fluid gesture, then stood still a moment, looking around the room. “The world is beautiful, isn’t it? I’d almost forgotten.” She stooped and picked up the fallen blindfold.

  “My lady, wait, please.” I climbed out of her bed, my body aching as though I’d fallen down a mountainside. I opened a clothes-press and found a sleeping-robe, unfolding it for her.

  “A wise thought,” she said dryly.

  “It’s not that.” I gathered my torn, scattered clothing. Snow Tiger waited with patience while I dressed, the scarf dangling from one hand. The dragon reflected in her eyes roiled slowly, peacefully, dreaming of clouds and rain. “You did not choose what happened here tonight,” I said, taking care with my words. “Therefore, I do not know if Naamah’s blessing may be upon it, though desire be sacred to her. But my gods sent me here, and I consented to this. Let us pray that it is blessing enough, my lady. And I promise, if I may serve you and the dragon within you in any other way, I will.”

  She touched my lips—gently. Very gently. “Moirin.”

  “Aye?”

  “You should go.” Snow Tiger tied the blindfold deftly over her eyes. “Banish the magic.”

  I’d held it for longer than I’d done since leaving Terre d’Ange, longer than I could remember. Now I let it go, and the world came rushing back, the silk lanterns glowing red once more. Moving with unerring precision, she picked up a small hammer from a table by the door and struck the dull, tarnished gong that stood there.

  In the darkened garden, a lantern came bobbing. A key turned in the cage’s lock.

  I was dismissed.

  SIXTY-THREE

  It’s not what you think,” I said to Bao. “Or at least not in the way you think it.”

  “The royal concubine has found a new princess to serve,” he said in a smooth tone. His relief at finding me bruised and aching, but otherwise unharmed, had been short-lived. “She owes no explanations to the peasant-boy.”

  “You know,” I commented. “Wrong though it may be, I cannot help but be delighted by your jealousy.” His mouth twitched, repressing a faint smile. “It’s misplaced, though. She didn’t want me there. The dragon did. As soon as it released her, she sent me away. I think she was glad to see me go,” I added.

  “What did you expect?” Bao asked. “This is not Terre d’Ange, Moirin. The Emperor’s enemies say he challenged the Mandate of Heaven when he chose to raise his daughter as his heir. Do you think Snow Tiger does not wonder about it herself?” He shrugged. “The dragon she swallowed drove her to tear her husband from limb to limb. Now it has driven her to bed a foreign woman, a complete stranger, against all custom, in violation of her own will. Did you expect her to be grateful for it?”

  I sighed. “No, of course not. It’s just…”

  “Come here.” He slid his arms around me. I pressed my face against the column of his throat, comforted by the considerable, but mortal, strength of his embrace. “I do not think you can understand how unsettling it was for the princess to be at the mercy of such a need. You are a foreigner. She is the daughter of the Emperor of Ch’in. Despite everything, her life has been a sheltered and privileged one in many ways. Allow time to pass before you look for her to be at ease with you.”

  “It was unsettling for me, too,” I observed.

  His arms tightened around me. “Was it terrible?”

  I nodded, then shook my head. “Terrible, but beautiful, too. Like the storm. I… we… saw what it is like when dragons mate.”

  Bao’s warm breath stirred my hair. “I cannot compete with dragons, Moirin.”

  “Oh…” I lifted my head and kissed him. It felt familiar and very, very good. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

  He smiled. “Strange girl.”

  “You do love me, don’t you?” I challenged him. “You were willing to assault the Son of Heav
en himself on my behalf.”

  “Maybe.” He lowered his head to return my kiss. “Maybe not. Let us settle the matter of the princess and the dragon first. Because among other things, I do not think I would care to rouse a dragon’s jealousy.”

  I remembered the way Snow Tiger had flung herself at the bars when the Emperor’s eunuchs had seized me. “Good point.”

  It was a time of waiting. An Imperial delegation had been sent to negotiate with Lord Jiang. The crowded streets of Shuntian were filled with rumor and speculation. Master Lo was quiet and withdrawn. Although the Emperor had offered to host us like heroes, Master Lo had chosen to take modest lodgings in the city. In the courtyard, we repotted the Camaeline snowdrop bulbs that had travelled so far, storing them in the coolest, shadiest corner.

  “They live yet?” he asked me.

  “Aye.” Their song was fainter than ever, fading. I stroked the soil with my fingertips. “They’ll not survive if they’re not planted in a high, cold place ere winter comes. What do you mean to do with them, Master?”

  “It is my hope that we might transport them to White Jade Mountain,” he said soberly. “Though I fear for our chances.”

  Bao and I exchanged a glance. It was the first time Master Lo had spoken of it since our arrival. “You do not think Lord Jiang will relent?” he asked.

  “I fear not.” His tone did not encourage further inquiry on the topic.

  I brushed dirt from my hands. “What will you do with the bulbs, then? Brew more tonic?”

  “Perhaps.” He gazed into the distance. “When I discovered their properties, it was my thought that they might provide a cure for an old friend’s ailment. The situation was not so complicated then.”

  I blinked, confused.

  Bao’s eyes widened. “Emperor Zhu is impotent?”

  Master Lo gave him a sharp look. “It is worth your life to speak those words where other ears might hear, my magpie.”

  “You said he tried many times, with many women, to get a male heir,” I reminded him.