CHAPTER FIVE

THE SHADOWS

I stared back at her. A ship—after all this time…“I’ve been here for months,” I hissed. “Why you? Why just now? An Mozhi is all the way south—I thought everyone knew I was trapped in Anzhao.”

The agent looked amused at my attempt to remain calm. The most disappointing thing about this whole excursion—more so than my soldiers’ and handmaiden’s betrayal or my husband’s indifference—was the silence from my own people. Was it too much to expect someone, anyone, to send an army on my behalf? They could’ve gone and trampled my enemies while they were at it. It would be nice to see Qun’s smug head on a spike.

I knew it was wishful thinking. A show of power of that magnitude could result in retaliation from the mighty Zarojo Empire, one that my tiny nation would have no power against. My warlords would sooner see me dead than risk their lands and people—a basic truth in Jin-Sayeng, one I had known since birth.

“We received reports that Anzhao City’s officials are not to be trusted, Beloved Queen,” she said. “We also heard that the Oren-yaro are aware of your exact circumstances, but they’ve been tight-lipped about it. The others, of course, accuse Lord General Ozo aren dar Tasho of blatantly refusing to send aid. He insists he has.”

My ears were burning. “One man came, against his orders.”

“They think Lord Ozo is seizing control of the Oren-yaro. He’s got the blood, and with you the only living, direct heir of the Orenar, your bannermen would allow it.”

“I’m still alive! And my son, Thanh…”

“Is an Ikessar,” she reminded me.

“Madness,” I murmured. “The world is falling apart and they’ve resorted to finger pointing. So my general doesn’t send help. Can’t the others spare the people themselves? Am I not still queen of Jin-Sayeng?”

“Queen or not, you’re still in prison. If you’d rather stay and talk here…”

I swore under my breath.

“We are your servants come to fetch you, Beloved Queen, not drag you back home like a trussed chicken for slaughter,” she said. “But even you should see the sense in running now and asking questions later.” She vaulted up the open window before turning around to offer me a hand.

I ignored her and crawled up the windowsill myself. We found ourselves in an empty courtyard.

“My men took care of them,” she said, to my inquiring look.

“Rather efficiently, I see.”

“Everyone in Anzhao can be bought as long as you have enough money.”

She led me down the street and through an alley, eventually emerging on a wide road in what appeared to be a business district in the city. At this time of the night, everything was quiet. A blanket of stars twinkled overhead, and I could smell wet grass and wet horses. In the distance, I could see the silhouettes of the saddled beasts.

The woman whistled to the horses. They came trotting towards us, snuffling. She handed me the reins. “They burned down Han Lo Bahn’s house,” she said. “I wouldn’t go back there now.”

“I know. I was there.” I pointed at the three horses. “You know the exact number of servants I have. What else do you know?”

“Your people have congregated at an inn near the outskirts, the one with three cherry trees and a fountain near the street. Your guards and the four siblings that go by the name of Lamang.”

“Next you’ll be telling me what I ate for breakfast the day before.”

She looked unamused.

“You probably do know, you smug bitch. What do your people want in exchange for all of this? Dai Kaggawa saved me from a dragon once when I was a child, but he holds no love for me or my father. This all seems far too much trouble to take as a mere sign of goodwill.”

“The world of the Jin-Sayeng royals,” she said. “You’ve stabbed each other so much in the back that you can no longer tell good intentions from bad.”

“Can’t I?” I replied. “Maybe you want me to guess. Let’s see—Kaggawa, playing the hero, sends you. The common man breaks his silence and comes to show us how it’s done.”

She ignored the insult. “Kaggawa’s businesses are based out of Ni’in and Nalvor, well outside of Jinsein politics, and they are all doing well enough for themselves. We have nothing to gain from this service, Beloved Queen. But I understand that you are not one to give your trust so willingly—in truth, I would think less of you if you were. The city of An Mozhi is some distance to the south. You intend to travel that way, don’t you? To the featherstone mines in the Ruby Grove?”

I stared at her. “I thought Qun was the one who ransacked Eridu’s establishment. But it was you, wasn’t it?”

“The ship, Aina’s Breath—you can’t miss it. It’s the only Kag ship on the docks.” She was an expert at deflecting questions “We will be there once you’ve concluded your errand.”

“And you’re going to give me time to think about it, just like that?”

“I want to give you a reason to trust us.”

I gazed at her. She was young, this woman, no more than a few years past girlhood, but there was a gravity to her voice that made her seem older. She must’ve noticed me sizing her up, because she suddenly took a step back, as if keenly aware, for the first time, that she was on a quiet street with the Bitch Queen.

“How much do you know of my errand, exactly?” I asked, making a great show of looking at the dagger on her belt. I outweighed, outmuscled her; if we both made a grab for it, I would probably win.

“You’re asking the wrong question,” she replied, pretending not to be nervous.

I smirked. “I have to start somewhere.”

“Start with what we know of what’s around you. How many people we took care of who had been watching you, as we have. Shadows follow you wherever you go, or at least they did. For now, you can rest assured you are safe.”

“From other shadows,” I said. “But not yours. You say you have nothing to gain from me. But doesn’t your family own land in the Sougen? You’re the people who fancy yourselves the true royals of the west, aren’t you?”

“You are,” she said, “really quite perceptive.”

“Empty flattery. Tell me what you want.”

“Your ear.”

“Which one?”

Not a joker, this woman. She gave me the same glare my tutors had whenever I opened my mouth. I pressed my lips into a grim smile.

“You were once the Ikessars’. You’re telling me that you want to pledge your allegiance to me instead?”

“We are pledged to Jin-Sayeng,” she said, “of which you are still the Dragonlord.”

“See, my concern is that when I hear the word Shadows, I am reminded of the people you so willingly assassinated in the Ikessars’ name. There’s quite a list.”

“The past is the past. You bedded with the Ikessars, too—not that you need anyone to remind you of that.” She cleared her throat. “All Master Dai wants, Queen Talyien, is the chance to speak with you about the plight of the west, which your Jin-Sayeng seems to have so easily neglected the past few years.”

“My Jin-Sayeng? Is there any other?”

“The rest of it, Beloved Queen.” I was impressed at how she could be both informative and insulting. “The rest that has fallen into shambles after over five years of your rule.”

I considered going for her dagger, now. But she made another step back before I could commit. Too slow, Talyien, I chastised myself. You’ve ceased to become a wolf. You’re a pet dog, good for nothing but a jewelled collar. No wonder everyone is convinced you need a better master.

“The land is suffering, but you can still turn the tide,” she said. “It’s a fair trade, Beloved Queen. Pay us heed, and we will give you the support and the tools you need to rule better, to change the pattern that has plunged Jin-Sayeng into ruin.”

“And then you’ll ask me for favours I can’t refuse, because by that point, I’ll owe you,” I said. “A fair attempt. You might think this is a game, but it’s one I’ve been playing since I was a child. I know what you people are trying to do. You want Yeshin’s daughter indebted to you. That’s a power you can’t resist. You think you can trap me that easily?”

“Not easily,” she said. “But do you have any other choice? You do want to go home, don’t you?”

I fell silent. I could tell from the light in her eyes that she knew she had me. She gave a quick bow. “We will wait for you once you’ve changed your mind. May the gods bless you, Beloved Queen,” she said, leaving me to my thoughts.

Most people speak of the idleness of childhood. I suppose mine had been, too, if you consider that my earliest memories consisted of sipping tea with the warlords and pretending to be interested in everything they had to say. Lo Bahn was right, at least, when he said that I had made a habit out of judging men and their intentions. From the moment I was old enough to sit quietly, my father had brought me to every meeting and bade me to observe. Once, I had fallen asleep—my father stopped the meeting long enough to strike my arm with his cane. “You missed Lushai licking his lips,” he told me later. “You don’t close your eyes in front of the enemy, Talyien.”

“Enemy?” I remember asking. “I thought he was your friend, Father.”

“You thought. Never assume.” Yeshin’s voice could cut deeper than a sword.

There was even a game he taught me, one that was supposed to amuse me during formal occasions or meetings with warlords, though clearly his intentions went beyond. The object was to look at the people around you and strip them of everything—their expensive clothing, their weapons, their lands, their titles, their people—before putting them in a precarious situation such as a famine or war. And then you tried to imagine what they would do next if you wielded the answer to their problems. Would they bargain with you? Work together with you? Kill you at first light?

Now, staring at the inn from the street, the one where the Shadows’ agent said my people were staying, I felt my insides twist. Judging others was all well and good when nobody’s life was at stake. Lo Bahn had accused me of seeing this as nothing more than a game. What stung was that he wasn’t wrong. What else was I, if not queen of Jin-Sayeng, if not Yeshin’s heir? The wind had more substance.

The moon was a deep red that night, as if someone had lit a paper ball on fire and stuck it onto the black sky. It gave the empty streets an eerie glow, reminiscent of a candlelit hallway. I left the horses by the cherry trees before hefting myself up to the rooftop like a common thief. I wasn’t sure that striding into the inn and announcing my presence was the wisest thing in the world. Memories from the last few months—of escaping one situation after another—had left a bad taste in my mouth, and the thought of more was enough to make my hands shake.

I caught sight of Agos from one of the windows. He was sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees, a lantern burning merrily on the table beside him. Even at the late hour, he was wide awake, staring at the wall with red-rimmed eyes. I hesitated, fighting against that old instinct to go running to him first for help.

The guilt was like a fire, spreading. I remembered my wedding day, listening to the priestess say, “Love carries us like a river…” and looking away from her and the sea of solemn faces to my new husband, running ahead with my own thoughts. And then with a hand around our neck, tries to drown us in our ignorance. Harsh words from a young woman standing beside her young, handsome prince. I remembered uttering my vows while my gaze skipped past the statue of Kibouri’s Nameless Maker and towards the silent, austere Agos, who stood near the altar, ready to throw himself at anyone who might dare interrupt such an important occasion. The night we had spent three days before felt like a bad dream. I was resolved to put it behind me, just as I had asked him to: “Never speak of this again,” finished, erased.

Easier said than done. The shame of my moment of weakness had haunted me for years. It was true he was mine to command, but indulgence was not the sort of ruling my father had raised me for. But where did indulgence end and respite begin? Was I never allowed to breathe?

My thoughts took me away from his window to another a few rooms down. This room, too, was well-lit; I spotted Khine with his back to the wall, arms crossed, as if he had fallen asleep mid-conversation. He was alone. I drifted towards him with every intention to watch him for a few moments, to settle into my thoughts over how he made me feel before I whispered my goodbyes. Just a few moments. But as soon as my hand touched the wooden shutters, his eyes snapped open.

“Tali,” he said, the way he had the first time he said my name after he learned I was queen—with that tinge of surprise, as if he was amazed I had one at all. That I wasn’t just the Bitch Queen.

I found myself staring into Khine’s eyes—Khine, ever the enigma. If I took everything from this man, what was left? Already he had nothing, and yet he remained the same unwavering, idealistic man I had first encountered on these streets. I, with all my father’s training, could still not decide what to think of him. Another person born in the midst of complex relationships, rather than observing from afar as I had my whole life through, might have an easier time untangling the threads. But in Khine’s presence, I felt as if I was the one stripped of all the trappings that gave my world reason and meaning.

He blew my father’s game out of the water.

I stood aside as he unclasped the window, silently chastising myself. Three horses—one for me, two for my guards. What was I doing here? It was his employer that had betrayed me. He stepped out onto the rooftop. He was barefoot, unshaven, clad in a thin jacket that looked far too cold for such a night. “You escaped,” he breathed.

“Did everyone else?”

“Cho and Thao are with their friends. Inzali went with Lo Bahn’s steward—they’re working on filing a report to gain custody of his children. The whole thing reeked of an illegal arrest…I’m not sure why Governor Qun thought he could get away with it.” Khine paused from his rambling. “How did you escape?”

“The Shadows,” I found myself murmuring.

“You mentioned them before. Don’t they work for your husband’s clan?”

“They insist they don’t, anymore. That they’re pledged to me now. They have a ship in An Mozhi waiting to take me home.”

He paused. I wondered if he was thinking over the details.

“I don’t want to accept it,” I continued. “The thought of asking for aid from people who once worked for the Ikessars makes my stomach turn. What would my father say? I am drowning in my own mistakes, and to willingly make another when I’ve yet to fix any seems one too many. I’ve already lost support from too many of my people. After this? The Oren-yaro would never forgive me.”

“The Oren-yaro…” he began. He cleared his throat. “Your people are not just the Oren-yaro. You’re responsible for a whole nation.”

“I—”

He cringed, as if regretting what he’d just said, before he settled beside me with a soft sigh. “Are you afraid there’s no other way?”

“It’s been months, Khine. We’ve done all we can. Even without the embargo in place, we don’t have enough coin to hire a ship. Telling people who I am is dangerous. And then there’s Qun. The bastard’s got it out for me…I don’t even know what for. But he’s not just going to let me sail off here.” I curled my hands into fists and took a deep breath. “First, I have to stop Rayyel. There’s no point going home with that hanging over our heads.”

“You still don’t know where he is.”

I glanced back at him. “Qun had Jien Hatzhi arrested, too. The Ruby Grove. The mages Rayyel seeks have been sending shipments to the featherstone mines there.”

“The Ruby Grove,” Khine repeated. “Interesting that they would. I didn’t think those mines were still active. How is Jien Hatzhi?”

“I’m sorry, Khine.”

The expression on his face changed. “Fucking Qun,” he whispered, turning away. I wondered if his tone of voice was meant for me. “The featherstone mines. I could’ve sworn those were abandoned years ago. Nobody lives in the towns anymore.”

“Which means it’s a good spot to hide illicit activities.”

Khine frowned. “Maybe. Featherstone helps enhance connections to the agan, which mages value. At least, that’s what was explained to me once. It is a dangerous substance. It gets into the lungs and has the habit of staying there. Breathe too much of it and you can go into shock and die in a matter of days. Even just getting it on your skin can cause rashes and sores. I’ve treated patients afflicted with featherstone ailments…it’s never pretty. It’s probably not the best place to travel to.”

“It’s not like I’m planning to start digging for it with my bare hands.”

“It’s more than that. Just being in the area is dangerous. Featherstone isn’t just in the mines—it’s everywhere. Patches on the ground, along crevices on the cliffs. People learned that too late.”

“What choice do I have?” I asked.

He sighed. “I know. It’s dangerous, not having a choice.”

We were silent for a few moments. “I have to go see Agos and Nor, now,” I said, my insides knotting. “Thank you for everything, Khine. For what you’ve done for me since the beginning. I…I came here to say goodbye.”

He coughed. “What if I went with you?”

“We only have three horses.”

“What if I travelled with you? Alone?”

The weightless feeling dissipated.

“I know the area very well,” he continued, unaware of how his words made me feel. “Alone, we’re not risking anyone else. Your guards don’t know yet, do they?”

“No,” I mumbled.

“We’ll leave a letter so that they don’t worry. Tell them to stick with Inzali so we know how to reach them afterwards.”

“And you’re sure you’re a competent guide?”

“As sure as I’m a con artist, Beloved Queen. The Ruby Grove lands border Lay Weng Shio. The mines themselves are an hour north of Phurywa. After people started dying, they left the mining towns. The few that couldn’t afford to go further ended up staying in Phurywa.” Khine rubbed his chin. “My father was a miner. Got us out safely, but not even a year later, he started coughing blood and it killed him in the end. It’s why I had to be a physician in the first place.”

My body moved even before my mind could finish forming a proper response.

We crossed the yard as cautiously as two lovers on their way to a tryst. I realized for the first time that my mind was vacant—almost startlingly clear. I wasn’t aware of much else except my racing heart and the starry sky above. The destination didn’t matter. He could’ve told me he was leading me back to Yuebek and I would’ve followed, anyway.

Deadly thoughts. My father’s logic told me I needed to bring Agos and Nor with me; that if I had to risk their lives, then so be it. I needed to put the mask back on and order Khine to guide me as queen, his moral quandaries be damned. Instead, I took all three horses with us, and we went down the street to buy supplies from the one store that answered Khine’s belligerent knocking. Dried fish, rice, and sweet potatoes made up the bulk of our food stock, with some dried fruit and bread. He also bought blankets, though he said he wasn’t too worried—it was summer and the nights were unlikely to be cold.

And yet I found myself shivering as I watched Khine exchange words with the shopkeeper. No—this had gone far beyond my father’s logic. I was turning things over in my mind too much, wondering why he was doing this, if this was all merely guilt from his involvement with me or his way of stopping me from causing any more harm. Irony of ironies—that a man who couldn’t be a physician would instead find himself helping the daughter of a murderer. I wished I had better answers.

In retrospect, I should’ve at least asked my father about all the people who had died for him, all the people he had killed. Contrary to what people believed, Warlord Yeshin was not a mindless murderer—he had a reason for everything he did, twisted as those reasons may have been, and he was always ready for a conversation about them with the right people. He wouldn’t have denied me such a request.

I could imagine, for example, that he would have a ready answer for the massacre that happened at the Dragon Palace in Shirrokaru, when he marched his army through the butterfly gardens and the elegant ballroom with all its imported furnishings and down to the throne room to seize control from Regent Ryabei. Everyone from Ryabei’s council was dragged up to Yeshin in chains. I was told they begged for their lives, that many of these high-ranking officials instantly pledged their support of the new Dragonlord. The heads of Jin-Sayeng? Mere heads on the floor, as far as Yeshin’s blade was concerned. My father disliked disloyalty, even when it wasn’t directed at him. There was no way he would trust men who gave up on their lord—dead or missing as Rysaran the Uncrowned was in those times—so easily.

And killing innocents didn’t trouble him; he once set an entire village on fire. It belonged to a bannerman of the Ikessars, who was planning to do the same to one of our own. Better to strike first than allow the Ikessars to kill his own to save theirs. There was nothing more dangerous than a man with conviction, one who could rationalize his way out of everything. If someone had asked Warlord Yeshin how he could look at himself after everything he’d done, he would’ve broken every mirror in the palace as a response.

Khine…must detest me. For my husband’s confession, for the stench of death that followed me like a loyal hound, for the things I had done to preserve what little I had. Discomfort wrestled with the exhilaration of my newfound freedom.

After we had loaded the third horse with supplies, we cantered down the southern road. Even with the lanterns hanging from the saddles, I couldn’t see much, but the horses were used to the road and didn’t seem to mind the darkness. A confident horse is always a comfort—it at least tells you he doesn’t think there is anything lurking out there that will eat him.

We didn’t follow the main road all the way. An hour or so later, we turned onto a dusty footpath that slowly rose uphill. Now the horses balked, confronted with a new thing. Khine’s horse was better than mine—when he dug his heels in frustration, she lurched up the switchback, loosening bits of rocks and pebbles as she crossed the path. My mount tried to scramble out of the way, but when he saw Khine and his horse widening the gap between us, he decided that the wisest thing was sticking together and clopped up the trail to join them. I patted his neck in encouragement.

We allowed the horses to walk at their own pace the rest of the way, bathed in red moonlight.

“Khine,” I said, testing him. Cold air and dust stirred with my breath.

“Yes, Tali?”

The queen, I realized, was for the others’ benefit, not mine. My heart lightened. I urged my mount faster so that all the horses were nearly nose-to-rump. “You’ve never told me what you think about all of this. You’ve been quiet after what happened down at the docks.”

“I didn’t think it was my place to comment,” he grumbled.

“I’m asking you now.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“You used to speak to me honestly about my husband. Was that before you knew what I had done?”

He didn’t reply.

I smoothed my horse’s mane as I lurched after the thing that had been nagging me for months. “It is about that,” I said. “You want answers, is that it? Yes—I slept with Agos three days before my wedding night. Yes, I made an error. Yeshin’s daughter was never as strong as she made herself out to be. All these years, I thought I could fix it. That if I just got the chance, I could make it all go away. I was wrong.”

Khine hesitated. “I suppose I just didn’t take you for the vengeful sort,” he finally managed. “Or the sort who would discard a man after she was done with him.” He glanced behind for a moment, as if to see if I was still there, before looking away, brow furrowed. “I’m sorry. You asked for honesty and I—”

“I didn’t discard Agos,” I replied. “I was trying to protect him. I can’t take it back now. And…” I swallowed. Where was this conversation going? “It wasn’t vengeance. I would never…hurting Rayyel, I mean…”

The rustling of the leaves sounded like applause. My own words felt hollow, hypocritical. Pretending didn’t undo the past. Ignored like a festering wound, it had grown only bigger. It didn’t seem to matter before. But under Khine’s scrutiny, I could feel myself wilt. Around him, my father’s name felt like a mantle of shame. Bitch Queen or frightened girl? What kind of gods would decree such an insurmountable battle for someone responsible for thousands upon thousands of lives?

“It wasn’t vengeance,” I repeated, my voice cracking.