CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

SERENDIPITY

Qisami’s business arrangement with Eifan paid off immediately. A courier arrived with a lead the very next day. The silkspinner had begun to pull his many strings, which gave her three possible leads to the Hero of the Tiandi.

The first was an orphan prince living in sewer tunnels. The boy had organized all the street rats in the city and turned them into a legitimate criminal organization. Now hundreds of orphans were strategically hitting vendors, soliciting protection money, and robbing commerce wagons.

It didn’t take long for Qisami to grab the nearest urchin off the street and get him to squeal. She learned quickly that the orphan prince was actually just the rice production cartel trying to seize market share over the noodle cartel. The food industry, much like the dairy, was downright cutthroat.

The second lead was the adopted son of a lord in Sunri’s court. Adoption into noble families wasn’t uncommon, but this particular lord was young and had not taken a bride, and his son was only a few years younger, which made the stories of the adoption suspect. Many in the web speculated that he was hiding the Hero of the Tiandi. It took Koteuni and Burandin most of the afternoon to penetrate his estate’s security, but in the end, it was simply a case of true love.

Qisami was now researching the last lead. There had been rumors floating around about a boy studying in a war arts school who had suddenly displayed extraordinary skill. He had arrived in the city only a year ago and had no other family. Eifan had assured her that the information was completely reliable. Then again, he had also been completely sure she wasn’t going to stab him, so there was that.

She headed to the Rose Ridge District, which felt especially impoverished and filled with smelly people after her stay at the Onyx Flower District. It didn’t take long for her to arrive at the so-called Longxian Northern Fist School of War. The school didn’t look like much. Just some tall brick walls and hideous yellow half-moon doors. The outer wall was sturdy, and the tiles on the roof were purposely designed to dislodge from their holds and shatter upon impact as an alarm system. Some of the tiles were a different color from the others, likely meaning they had been replaced in the last year or so. This could have been because of burglaries, but was more likely due to school rivalries. There was easier prey for thieves than a war arts school. The lighting just above the walls offered indications that the interior was heavily lit with lanterns while a layer of soot on the left side of the gates signaled a hearth or kitchen. As with most war arts schools, the guards were likely useless students, but even a harmless pup could bark a warning before losing its intestines.

To gather more information would require looking inside. The school had already closed for the evening, but it was still too early to prowl. Qisami had a few hours to kill. She scanned her surroundings and brightened at the sight of a bar directly across the street. Whistling, she hurried into the establishment, found a table on the second floor next to a window, and ordered plum wine for dinner. In hindsight, she probably should have eaten something first. By the time the Queen rose two hours later, Qisami was resting her chin on her elbow, swinging a drinking urn in the air and singing along to some stupid song about some stupid something stupid. Her vision was blurry and everything was downright hilarious.

A small commotion at the balcony of the bar caught her attention. Qisami craned her head over and saw a gaggle of soldiers clustered around a corner table. She perked up. A bar fight would be the perfect way to end the evening. She reached for her purse to place a bet, then stopped when a few of the soldiers blocking her view parted, revealing a Kati woman sitting alone.

The woman wasn’t a normal Kati, however. The sides of her head were shaved, and her hair rose up and was teased back, resembling ram’s horns. Her ears had a dozen or so piercings each and her skin was rough with scars. Her expression was perfectly tranquil, and she sipped her drink even while several of those silly soldiers goaded and taunted her. What drew Qisami’s attention was the woman’s eyes. They were large, sharp, furious, and black as midnight.

“Tell me, Kati scum,” a paunchy soldier taunted. “Is it true that you Kati and your horses take turns riding each other?”

The others soldiers around him roared. Qisami’s brow furrowed. That joke was low-hanging fruit, worth at best a chuckle. Whatever was happening there really wasn’t any of her business, but when had that ever stopped Qisami before? She was about to whip out a dagger when something about the woman’s demeanor stayed her hand. This woman did not need saving. She was a lioness tolerating sheep. Those morons were alive only by the grace of her goodwill, and were simply too stupid to realize.

One soldier wearing an eye patch chortled like a braying donkey. “I hear your cities have to keep moving because of the stench your people leave behind.”

An older, huskier guard added, “I guarded these savages on the march home after we broke their city. A whole bunch of them cried like babies the first night. I poked one with my spear and asked why, and he told me it was because we built our campfires on the ground!”

The soldiers roared. That last comment had struck a nerve and earned a reaction from the Kati. It was slight, easy to miss if one wasn’t looking carefully. Qisami admired her grit no less than her cool, dangerous beauty. She was especially jealous of the woman’s fierce, manicured eyebrows.

After a few more moments of verbal abuse, the woman appeared to have had enough. She stood up abruptly, towering over most of the rabble. The chatter died, and the pack of yippy puppies melted back, carving open a path for her. She patiently drained her drink, gently placed the cup on the table, then casually walked past her harassers. The soldiers stood there, mute, like the used poop rags that they were, and then that was that. The show was over.

Or so Qisami thought.

The soldiers eventually found their spines again after the Kati left. They gathered together and began to gab loudly. She caught phrases like “kinky weapon,” “souvenir,” and “extra booze money.” A moment later, the paunchy one signaled to his men to follow, and the group disappeared down the stairs.

She went to the balcony and leaned over the side just in time to see the soldiers turn down the alley. Qisami counted six bodies, which wouldn’t be a problem for her, but she doubted this Kati was anywhere as skilled as she was, because no one was. Qisami absently reached for her urn and found it empty. She was about to order another drink when impulse struck her.

Qisami leaped over the balcony, dropping to the ground like a prowling cat. She whistled softly, criminally off-key, as she listed drunkenly from side to side trailing after the soldiers. She caught sight of them right when the soldiers surrounded the Kati. Their coarse laughter echoed against the alley walls.

“It’s against the law for Kati to possess weapons. We can have you flogged. If you hand that thing over, and whatever coin you have, we may be willing to overlook this.”

“I also like her armor. I’ve always wanted to own a set of Kati scale mail.”

“We don’t have time for that, fool.”

The paunchy one drew his saber and casually poked the woman in the chest. “Well, what will it be, Kati scum? Hand over your weapon or we’ll pick it off your dead body.”

Qisami reached for a knife. She had so many targets on that large, plump body. Where would cause him to squeal loudest? She was deciding between inside his right armpit into the lung or his lower back when, unfortunately, the choice was taken from her.

Just as she was about to throw, the woman lashed out, two spear thrusts that sent that many soldiers down within an instant. She grabbed the wrist of another who was drawing his blade and kneed him so hard in the gut his feet left the ground. She dodged a thrust against her back and spun away to safety even as a long whip-like weapon uncoiled from her waist. It twirled above her head and found Eye-Patch’s good eye, flattening him on his back.

One drew a large warhammer, only to have the ends of the whip wrap around it. A tug yanked it out of his hands, and his fat mouth ate his own hammerhead when the Kati swung the whip back at him. His head whipped back and cracked against the stone wall. He was already dead by the time his body slid to the ground.

It took three more seconds for Qisami to reach the fight, which was exactly how much time the Kati woman needed to finish the three remaining soldiers. Two lay unconscious at her feet, while the last looked definitely dead, given the way his neck was bent. The Kati whirled on Qisami, her long weapon curled around her body, looking ready to pounce again.

Qisami held up her hand. “Hi! That was magnificent,” she beamed. “I saw the commotion and thought I’d join in on the fun, but it seems you’re awfully greedy.”

The Kati hesitated. “Thank you,” she said finally. “Aid is unnecessary—”

Qisami’s black knife streaked just past her shoulder. The Kati woman immediately raised her guard, but glanced behind her in time to see the soldier’s saber slip from his fingers as he pawed at his throat, spurting blood. He mouthed silently and keeled over.

The Kati lowered her guard but eyed Qisami warily as she walked over and yanked her knife out. She wiped the blade off on the man’s tunic and sheathed it. Qisami stepped over two bodies and made her way toward the Kati. “You might want to make yourself scarce, cute stuff. The magistrates get real pissy when soldiers turn up dead.”

The woman nodded. “You have my gratitude.” She headed to the opposite end of the alley.

“Hey,” Qisami called after her. “What’s your name?”

The Kati woman turned back. “My name is none of your business.” And then she was gone.

Spicy. Qisami appreciated that. “I’ll see you around.”

She was certain their paths would cross again. There weren’t many women like that in Jiayi. Whistling, she walked out of the alley and checked the three moons in the sky. Night had finally fallen, and there was not a cloud in sight. It was near time to sneak into Longxian. She stopped at the entrance to the Drunken Monk and looked inside. Or she could go back in and continue drinking. It was probably best to wait a little while longer for everyone in the school to fall asleep. And she might need to sober up a bit. She’d decide which once she sat down.

Just then, a flare streaked upward and burst into a kaleidoscope of red and yellow bursts. So pretty. Who could be lighting that now? Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed several grappling hooks fly and catch on to the roof. They were soon followed by a line of silhouettes scaling the school’s walls. And just as she had predicted, several of the tiles on the roof slid off and cracked loudly against the ground.

A few seconds later, a scream pierced the night.