by Cindy Lin
“No!” Usagi tackled her sister, sending them both tumbling to the ground.
Uma kicked and struggled. “Let me go! What are you doing? I’m trying to help him! He doesn’t understand!”
“You’ll get yourself captured,” Usagi said furiously. “We’re getting out of here. Now! Before you make things worse!” She hauled her sister to her feet and dragged her away, ignoring her pleas, while half a dozen Guards positioned themselves around the marketplace, mounting firecannon to their shoulders. Jago flew frantically about, swooping from rooftop to rooftop, until finally he landed on the Guard headquarters itself.
“Fire!” roared the Guard commander.
Chapter 4
Captured
THE EXPLOSIONS FELT LIKE A punch to Usagi’s ears. She threw her hands over them, stumbling at the edge of the marketplace. Uma and Tora bent to help her. They hustled away from the chaos and didn’t look back.
Usagi’s heart squeezed. What would happen to Jago? Would the little boy be brought before the Dragonlord? Thrown in some horrible lockup? Put to work in the mines—or worse?
Tora led the way through the evening dark back to their forest hut. Dried pine needles underfoot enveloped them in a powdery perfume as they traipsed along a makeshift path through the trees. Midway there, Usagi realized something.
“We forgot our rice,” she said. “It’s still at Aunt Bobo’s.”
“She’s lost her son. Let her have it,” Tora replied softly.
Usagi stole an anxious glance at Uma, who lagged behind them, silent and brooding. It was unlike her to be so quiet. Feeling through her pockets, Usagi dug out the lump of sugarcane and offered it to her sister. “I found it outside the pig sties. It’ll still be sweet when you chew it.”
Uma swatted it away. “It’s not fair!” she burst out. “Jago didn’t even understand what was happening.”
Tora sighed. “I know. He’s even younger than you were when your talent first began to show. And I don’t think Aunt Bobo prepared him for it.”
Usagi thought of her father, and the last night she saw him. He’d told her to take care of her little sister, even given her something for safekeeping, but never prepared her for living in a world without him. How much had he known? If he thought he might die, why didn’t he say so? Why wasn’t she prepared?
At least her parents had always talked to her about her powers. Her mother, born in the year of the Horse just like Uma, liked to tell the story of how her own horse speed had appeared when she was five. “My big brother and I were on a walk, when he thought it’d be funny if he hid behind a tree. I thought your uncle had gone and left me behind, so I started running as fast as I could, trying to catch up with him. He said I disappeared in a blink. By the time he found me, I’d long since reached the seashore!”
And when Usagi began to hear things that others couldn’t, like snatches of their neighbors’ conversations and the cries of newly hatched chicks in nests clear across town, her father made a pair of ear mufflers out of sheep’s wool, presenting them to her over a special feast her mother had cooked for the occasion. “Until you get used to hearing more,” he’d said, beaming.
Now when your powers emerged you were taken away like poor Jago. Usagi had seen it happen so many times with the younglings who’d hid in the forest with them. One by one, they’d been caught using their talents, often because they were careless. Usagi dreaded the distinctive clack of the Dragonstrikers’ black lacquered armor, which made them look and sound like giant roaches. She worried that one day the roaches would come for the three of them, hauling them off to gods knew where.
Entering their tiny shack, Usagi breathed a sigh of relief. For tonight, at least, they were still safe. “I wish we hadn’t gone to see those entertainers,” she said, feeling guilty.
“Still think they were the bandits?” Tora asked. “They ran off as soon as the Guard moved in.”
Uma kicked the door panel shut, shaking the hut hard enough to rattle the thatch. “We should have done more to help Jago.”
“Don’t bring down the roof, Uma,” Usagi chided.
Tora spoke over her. “Even if there was something to be done, it’s too late, little one. By now the nearest Striker post has gotten the messenger bird that the Guard sent. They’ll be in Goldentusk for him by morning.”
Usagi tried comforting her sister. “Maybe it won’t be so bad. If younglings are being brought straight to the Dragonlord, it means they’re taking them to the capital. That’s better than the mines, right?” She offered Uma the piece of sugarcane once more. “Here.”
“I’m not hungry,” Uma groused.
“Well, save it for later, then.” Usagi pressed the sugarcane into Uma’s hand. “Now try to sleep.”
Uma sat pouting for a while, but eventually lay down. She continued to toss and turn, while Tora emitted a gentle snore. Wedged between them, Usagi stared into the darkness, thinking.
What did the Dragonlord want with these younglings? If he were half dragon, as some whispered, perhaps he would eat them for their talents. Maybe that was what the Strikers had been doing all along—bringing him younglings as snacks. Usagi clutched the tiny wooden rabbit at her neck and prayed that the three of them would never find out. As her little sister became still and her breathing at last grew even, Usagi found her own eyelids getting heavy, and her thoughts gave way to sleep.
Soft rustling sounds roused Usagi from a fitful slumber. She drowsed, lying curled on her side, till birds in the forest began trilling their greetings for the day. Usagi cracked open an eye, squinting as pale fingers of morning light reached into the makeshift hut.
With a chilled shiver, Usagi rolled over, grimacing from the cricks and aches that came from sleeping on a packed dirt floor. She stared at the cold empty space beside her. Her sister was gone. Listening hard, a knot of worry formed in her stomach. She turned and shook Tora. “Wake up! Uma’s not here.”
“What?” Tora blinked at her, her voice thick with sleep.
“Uma’s gone—I can’t hear her anywhere in the forest.”
“Boils and blisters,” Tora groaned. “Are you sure?” Sighing heavily, she got up. Together they did a quick search around their corner of the woods, Tora peering through the shadows, Usagi scanning every sound for a sign of her sister, but she was nowhere nearby.
Tora frowned. “You think she went back to town? To help Jago?”
“She was so upset—she might have.” The knot in Usagi’s stomach tightened. “We’ve got to stop her before she gets caught herself.”
They raced back to town in the gray dawn, hoping to find Uma before the morning patrols of the Guard began. As they scurried through the quiet streets, Usagi caught the sounds of a boy crying.
“I hear Jago,” she muttered to Tora. The crying grew louder as she led them to the town center where the main building of the Guard headquarters loomed. “He’s somewhere in there.”
“What are we going to do? We can’t just march up the front steps,” Tora said.
“Around back,” Usagi whispered. They wound through back paths and byways until they were looking over a low, tree-lined wall into the dusty grounds of what had once been Goldentusk’s School of the Twelve. Guard barracks had been built over the razed shrine that adjoined the school, and stables and outhouses sat on the former gardens and training fields. A steady stream of Guards, slipping on their helmets and adjusting their scabbards as they left, were setting off to escort the field workers and start early morning patrols of the town. Usagi tried not to gag at the fetid stink of horse manure mixed with stale rice wine and the fumes from the outhouses.
She spotted a row of cages by the stables, a good hundred paces away. Just large enough to hold a single prisoner, they were made of thick bamboo poles reinforced with iron bands, and were designed for transport. All were empty except one, in which Jago crouched miserably. A Guard stood watch, leaning against the trunk of an enormous old banyan tree that shaded the grounds. He hardly glanced at Jago,
instead idly trimming stray hairs off his beard with a knife and examining them.
“Where’s Uma?” Tora asked. “I don’t see her anywhere.”
“Maybe I was wrong,” Usagi said, perplexed but relieved. “Maybe she didn’t come here at all. Let me listen for her.” She closed her eyes and cocked her head. Not far from them was a fidgety rustling and the familiar pattern of her sister’s breathing. Usagi’s heart sank. She led Tora along the low wall till they came to an unruly hedge. Her sister was half hidden in its foliage, peering over the wall into the grounds. “Uma!” Usagi whispered.
“So you decided to help,” Uma said happily. She pointed to the bored Guard. “I don’t know what that Guard ate, but he goes off to the outhouse every few minutes. I’ve been watching. When he wasn’t looking, I snuck Jago the sugarcane you gave me. The cage is locked, of course, but if I used my fire gift, maybe I could soften the lock enough to break it open.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Usagi told her. “You’re not thinking this through. You don’t have full control of your gift yet.”
Tora nodded, exasperated. “Besides, it would take forever to melt a lock open.”
“Well then, why don’t you buy me some time? Distract him for me?” Uma shot back.
“Because I don’t want to be locked up with Jago and turned over to Dragonstrikers!” Tora’s tiger teeth glinted as she grimaced.
Usagi stiffened. “I can hear the Strikers,” she warned. The faintest clack and clatter of their armor sounded in the distance, signaling the approach of the Dragonlord’s most elite fighters. She calculated quickly. “They’ll be here in less than an hour. Come on, we need to go.” She grasped her sister’s arm and tried to help her out of the bushes.
Uma jerked away. “No!”
Frustrated, Usagi threw up her hands. “For the love of the Twelve, Uma, why are you doing this?”
“Why?” Her sister looked incredulous. “Because what if that were me?” she demanded. “Would you just shrug and turn your back? ‘Oh well, nothing we can do, it’s too late now.’” Her dark eyes filled with furious tears. “Would you?”
The words stung. “Of course not!” Usagi said. “I would never leave you.”
“There’s so few of us with talents left,” Uma sniffled. “If we don’t help him, who will?”
Helplessly, Usagi looked to Tora. But Tora was staring at something behind them.
“There’s someone up in the tree,” she muttered, narrowing her gaze.
“What?” Usagi turned to look. Perched high in the branches of the banyan tree was a masked figure dressed in black.
“Is that one of the bandits from the other night?” Tora scanned the grounds, frowning. “What are they doing here?”
The bearded Guard under the tree appeared not to notice the figure above him. He stuck the knife back in his belt and ambled toward the outhouses.
Uma brightened. “The Guard’s walking away!” She vaulted over the wall and sprinted off. In an instant, she appeared next to Jago’s cage. Scowling in concentration, she rubbed her hands. A blaze of fire sprang up and she cupped her hands around the lock.
“No! She’ll be caught!” Usagi fretted. “I’ve got to go get her.”
“There’s not enough time to run,” said Tora. “Use your rabbit leap.”
But before Usagi could move, the Guard on duty turned back and spotted Uma.
“Oi! Some freakling is trying to free the prisoner!” He ran to a nearby bell and rang it frantically.
Usagi’s mouth went dry and her breath stopped. If she didn’t fetch Uma now, it would be too late. She launched into her rabbit leap, flinging herself into the air. She soared up, up, up—too high! Spitting spirits, she’d jumped too hard. Rising far above the banyan tree, Usagi thought she glimpsed two masked figures in black on the roof of the Guard headquarters.
A shout went up from the ground. Looking down, Usagi saw two slack-jawed Guards pointing at her. They dove out of the way as she hurtled straight toward them.
Crash! A stack of empty rice wine barrels broke her landing. “Gods, that hurt,” Usagi moaned.
“Eat my foot, there’s more than one of ’em!” exclaimed one of the slack-jawed Guards. His face was peppered with blemishes.
“A demon jumper!” said the other. He had an eye that turned away from his nose, as if it were looking for his ear.
They drew their curved swords and shuffled closer, approaching her cautiously. Usagi staggered to her feet, aching and bruised. Her leap had gone horribly. Across the grounds, she saw Uma, her hands ablaze, still working on the lock on Jago’s cage. The bearded Guard who’d sounded the alarm drew his sword. Usagi screamed a warning at her sister just as Tora streaked from the wall and jumped onto the Guard’s back.
At the sound of a grunt, Usagi looked back as Pimple Nose and Wall-Eye lunged at her. In the nick of time, she sprang over their heads. Clearing a short distance, she tumbled into a heap upon landing, just ten paces away. Usagi silently cursed herself. Her zodiac power was hardly helping. She’d be better off running. Usagi scrambled up and looked about in a panic.
Guards streamed onto the grounds from all directions, responding to the alarm bell with urgent shouts. Tora was surrounded, but fought back with a ferocity Usagi had never seen before. The two snaggleteeth that had always looked like little fangs seemed to have grown suddenly, and when she swiped at an approaching Guard, she clawed right through his leather sleeves, leaving bleeding slashes. “I hope that leaves a nice scar,” she hissed. Usagi’s eyes widened.
“Come on now, freakling,” said Pimple Nose, taking a few steps toward her. “We won’t hurt you.”
“Then why are you pointing your sword at me?” Usagi countered. Behind her was the crunching sound of dirt beneath tiptoeing boots. She ducked just as Wall-Eye rushed to grab her. He collided with Pimple Nose instead, while Usagi turned and ran. She sprinted as fast as she could toward the stables, with additional Guards giving chase. But where was Uma? Her sister had disappeared, though a terrified Jago still remained in his cage. Half a dozen bloodied Guards were in the midst of tying Tora up, even as she snapped her fangs at them.
The bearded Guard who’d sounded the alarm yelled at the Guards chasing Usagi. “The fire freakling’s run off! Don’t let that one get away!”
Usagi faltered to a stop. Uma had run away? Her mind went blank and she looked at a still-struggling Tora. What should she do now?
Tora caught her staring, and her feral gaze grew steely. “Run, Usagi! Run!”
Like she’d been kicked in her backside, Usagi jolted forward. She could barely feel her limbs, and her racing heart was all she could hear. With a desperate heave, Usagi tried leaping one more time, springing as hard as her legs would let her. Staring blindly into the heavens, she soared up as the sun crawled higher above the horizon, up over the Guard headquarters, up past the blackened stumps on the roof. No masked bandits crouched there—she must’ve imagined them. The statue of the Dragonlord in the town center caught her eye, and she began falling toward it. Usagi braced herself as she plummeted, praying that she wouldn’t collide with the bronze figure. She hit the ground with another bone-rattling jolt, rolling several times before coming to a stop.
Groaning, Usagi raised her head. A few townspeople in the marketplace had stopped to stare, but averted their gaze and hurried away. Most of the Guards in town had run back to headquarters at the alarm, but it wouldn’t be long before they’d be out in the streets looking for her. She had to get moving. Usagi pushed herself to get up. Her whole body felt heavy and slow, aching from her terrible landings. The distant clacking of the Strikers’ armor had gotten louder. They would be in town soon, and between them and the Guard, she’d have no chance. She needed a miracle to save her now.
Then she remembered. With shaking hands, she pulled out the tattered silk square she kept tucked in her belt and unfolded it to reveal the carved wooden comb her father had given her.
It’s full of great magic
from Mount Jade. Don’t drop it, for that will unleash its powers, her father had said. Holding her breath, Usagi dropped the comb.
Chapter 5
The Warrior Heirs
THE WOODEN COMB HIT THE dirt and stuck there, quivering, its finely carved teeth biting into the earth. The ground beneath Usagi rumbled and shook. Sprouting all around her, trees pushed their way up through the hard-packed soil of the old marketplace, their leafy branches blotting out the morning sun. The buildings around the town center disappeared from sight, leaving Usagi and the statue of the Dragonlord in a dense thicket.
“Spirits,” Usagi gasped. The comb had magic, all right. She gulped for air, trying to catch her breath. The roar of blood rushing through her ears subsided as her pounding heart slowed. Cautiously, she got to her feet. She was surrounded by tall trees as far as she could see. She reached out and touched the rough trunk of a boxwood, its snarled branches covered in glossy green leaves. All this from a little comb? To think she’d been carrying a forest in her pocket.
She rubbed the wooden rabbit charm at her neck and listened. The steady clacking of the Dragonstrikers’ armor was growing louder as they marched toward Goldentusk. While the copse of trees had quieted, there was commotion outside it, with exclamations from townspeople and Guard alike.
“Earthquake! A small one, but I felt it!”
“Where did all these trees come from?”
“It’s from that demon jumper—the one that cleared the building like a human cricket!”
“Commander got word back from the Dragonstrikers. They’ll be here before the hour of the Snake. Says if we can’t get this youngling or the one with fire, then they will.”
Usagi’s stomach twisted. Tora had told her to run—not attract the notice of everyone in town. She bit her lip and tried to stay calm. There had to be a way out of this. At least her sister was still free. Usagi thanked the gods for Uma’s horse speed. Surely she’d outrun the Strikers.
