CHAPTER THREE

THE JIN-SAYENG DRAGONLORDS

The old man wasn’t familiar—plain-faced and clean-shaven, he looked like any of the number of faces I had seen on the street just that day—but suddenly the inside of that restaurant was. I’d been there before in some meeting or another, probably one that went on for hours with everyone half nodding their heads over cups of tea, staring at the lanterns while chasing stray flies with their paper fans. I thought I could even recognize the fish, with their ghost-like grey fins and bulbous heads. I couldn’t recall what the occasion was—Arro would have, but then…

“It is you, isn’t it?” the manager said in a lower voice.

I had been travelling in secret for almost a year, and the prospect of being confronted by my own people at last had seemed like it would never come again. But I was in the river lands, so close to home. I carefully shuffled my feet before drawing the manager aside. “Can you tell them it was a mistake?” I whispered.

He seemed to recoil at the idea of having to lie, but I placed a hand on his wrist, firmly squeezing it. He finally nodded, turning to his patrons. “It’s just the delivery girl,” he laughed. “At my age, my eyes are playing tricks on me.” He laughed again, a little too much. I dragged him out on the street, where he quickly dropped to the ground in a bow.

I pulled him up. “My friend is locked up in the building down the street.”

“The abandoned theatre?”

“There’s…there’s thieves chasing after him. From the market. I’m afraid he might get hurt.”

He looked confused.

“Can you call the guards?” I asked. “I can’t. I’m not supposed to be here.”

He closed his mouth before slowly nodding. “You can wait in the kitchen.”

“No one can know I’m here, Anong.”

He took me through the back door, where he screamed at one of his daughters to fetch me cold tea and snacks. The prospect of eating anything while Khine was possibly getting hacked to pieces didn’t sit well with me, but I pretended to accept his hospitality with a bow. The daughter left just as quickly as her father did, and I found myself sitting on a ragged-looking chair in front of an even more dilapidated table, surrounded by bulbs of garlic hanging from the ceiling.

I took a sip of tea, wondering if I could remember where the closest guardhouse was from here. Down at the river, where we left the horses? That was only a few streets away. Supposing they entertained the manager immediately, I only had a few minutes before someone came back here for me. I placed the tea back on the table and realized my hands felt tingly. The edges of my vision were starting to blur.

I thought I simply needed fresh air and rushed out to the back alley. I had barely taken two steps before I fell to the ground, shaking. My mouth suddenly tasted acrid. I quickly jabbed two fingers into the back of my throat, vomiting bile and something else that tasted much fouler right into the sewage ditch. After my stomach heaved itself empty, I got up, wiping my mouth. Poison? But I hadn’t been there for more than a few minutes at best; the chances of an assassin slipping through the kitchen just as the manager told me to stay there felt too much of a coincidence. The daughter had grabbed the tea from a fresh batch she’d just made…was it possible the poison wasn’t intended for me?

Who else did they want to kill?

I reentered the kitchen, where I found the tea jug and spilled the rest of it on the ground. Afterwards, I slowly made my way through the narrow hallway leading to the main restaurant. The other servers were busy at work and mostly ignored me; one glided past me with a tray, where I spotted a simple meal of rice, a hard-boiled egg, and roasted fish. It was one of the few meals I remembered Rayyel actually liking—he otherwise didn’t seem to notice the taste of food at all. I spotted a glass of the same cold tea with grass jelly I’d just had.

Without thinking about it, I knocked the tray from her hands.

Food and plates crashed to the ground. The server began to swear, pulling me aside so she could scream at my face. But I wasn’t looking at her.

I was staring at my husband, who was sitting at the table across from us.

He stared back in silence. Always so calm, Rayyel. The whole world was burning, and he remained unaffected, as if he had nothing to do with any of it. It made me envious, thinking about it now.

I tore myself from the server’s grasp and marched towards him. Before I could open my mouth, Rai reached across the table to grab my wrist. I tried to draw my sword, and he twisted my arm.

“You son of a—”

“Not here,” he whispered. He flicked his eyes behind him. Off-duty guards chatted around a table, tearing through enough food to last a week in some households. It appeared to be a celebration of some sort—I caught sight of a roasted suckling pig, sitting on banana leaves with golden skin. I could smell the meat from where I was standing.

“Upstairs,” he said.

I started to laugh. “If you think I’m going to fall for that again…”

“It wasn’t me that first time, if you recall.”

“Is everything all right?” another server asked, intervening on behalf of the first, who was seething in the corner, looking like she wanted to skin me alive. “Will she be joining you?”

“She most sincerely won’t be,” I hissed.

“We need to talk in my room,” Rai said in a low voice. I always hated how he made me sound hysterical. He nodded at the server. “I’m sorry about the accident. Could you just bring the replacement up?”

“Of course.” She smiled sweetly, unaware of what was going on beyond the appearance of two lovers having a spat. Her presence saved me from embarrassing myself. Rai crossed his arms and shuffled forward, and the servant gave me such a sheepish smile that I was stunned into silence. She gestured down the hall with a bow, and I found myself turning to follow Rayyel.

He led me up a short flight of stairs and down to a long hall lined with doors. Rai made a small noise to himself when he touched the handle to the wrong room, and started to apologize while he fumbled with the key. He apologized a second time as the door opened and he directed me inside. “The state of disarray…” he began.

“You should start by explaining what you did,” I asked with all the anger I could squeeze into a small voice. “The letters to the warlords.”

He blinked, closing the door gently behind him. “I don’t understand.”

“Do I have to spell everything out for you, you irritating bastard? I thought we had an agreement. But as soon as we were separated, you went behind my back!”

“Ah,” Rai said. “That.” He rubbed his beard.

“That?” I exclaimed. I finally wrenched my sword loose from my belt. One step and I had the blade against his throat.

His face remained impassive. “I thought you would’ve learned to control that anger over these years.”

I tightened my grip. After a moment, I drew back slightly, only enough that he could breathe without nicking himself. “Talk fast.”

“I wrote that letter from An Mozhi while I was still recovering. It had to be done. Governor Qun was heading this way. I didn’t know how else to stop him. I had to render you powerless—I was hoping it would dissuade him. Dissuade Yuebek.”

Qun himself had alluded to it. I stared at him for a heartbeat.

He managed a long, ragged breath. “Will you sheathe your sword now, my lady?”

I sighed and pulled the sword away from him, letting him stand straight. “I did meet the bastard,” I said. “I suppose I’ll have to take your word for it. Did you come up with all of it yourself?” It was hard to believe, even after he had explained everything. Such forward thinking wasn’t Rayyel’s way.

“It was Inzali’s idea,” he replied. He seemed embarrassed to admit it. “I thought it was too drastic at first, but Namra assured me it was sound. In any case, we were running out of time. We had to make a decision.”

“I thought she and the others were taking you east,” I murmured as I tried to piece the last few weeks’ events together.

He pursed his lips. “They were. I awoke two days after we parted and insisted we follow you. We didn’t have a ship and it was slow going on the road. You were gone by the time we arrived.”

“With that snake Qun right behind us.” I sheathed the sword so I could sit down. “Namra and the others—where are they now?”

“I took care of the letters from here. They went straight to Shirrokaru to ask the council for assistance. The Dragonthrone should still care about the queen and her son’s safety, no matter what the rest of the land thinks.”

“Your council is overrun with Ikessars.”

“I asked them to be discreet, to find a group of soldiers loyal to the Dragonthrone only.”

“Easier said than done. If only that bastard Kaggawa hadn’t insisted on taking me all the way out west, perhaps I would’ve had time to…” I stared at my hands. “No,” I murmured. “None of that matters. I came here for help. There were assassins. Khine’s in trouble. Rayyel—you didn’t send them, did you?”

“I have never, in my life, wished you dead,” Rai whispered.

My insides knotted. Not for what he said, but at the memory of what had happened mere moments—it must’ve only been moments—ago in the theatre. This was my husband, the one standing right next to me. Why were my thoughts full of another man? “Khine’s in trouble,” I numbly repeated.

Rai continued speaking, breaking my thoughts. “I wrestled with an assassin myself just yesterday. I managed to give her the slip and let the guards take care of it.”

“Ah,” I said. “The poison. That was for you.”

“Poison?”

“The tea, on the tray. I had a sip earlier. Another, and I’d be dead.”

His face grew white. “Somebody wants, at the very least, the both of us out of the picture. Maybe we should—”

I heard a creak right outside the window, so faint that in any other circumstance, I would’ve dismissed it. But Rai heard it, too. He glanced at it, at the shutters that were swaying slightly with the breeze. “We should what?” I said as I hefted my sword and started walking towards the window. “Out with it, Rai. You know, you’ve always had a problem with talking. Don’t you understand how a marriage works? We’re supposed to communicate. This is why everything’s gone belly-up, and I can’t even tell if the problem is with you or me or Jin-Sayeng or this fucking bastard!”

I jammed the sword straight through the small crack between the shutters before kicking it open. The assassin was still clinging to the side of the window, my sword in his throat. He was trying unsuccessfully to pull it out. Without blinking, I yanked the blade out and slit his throat sideways, leaving his vocal cords hanging. Before his body slipped to the yard below, I hauled it by the shoulders, dragging it into the room. It flopped like a dead fish, leaving a pool of blood on the floor.

“Nameless Maker,” Rai gasped.

“I think we’ve found our poisoner,” I said.

He regained his composure. “And there’s others with Lamang, you said?”

“Three, as far as I know. I killed one. He’s trapped with the rest in the abandoned theatre down the street. I had the manager call the guards for me. But he knows who I am. We can’t stay here.”

He nodded. I watched him walk the length of the room to retrieve his sword from under the bed. His movements had the same mechanical precision as always. I followed him down the stairs and through another door leading to the street. For a moment, you would have been able to fool me into thinking we were back to the way things used to be: a couple on their way to a meeting, to delegations and politics and a marriage as empty as my bed the last six years.

A handful of guards were standing at the entrance to the theatre by the time we came around the corner. I caught sight of the manager bowing profusely in front of them. “There’s thieves you say, eh?” a guard was saying, prodding his shoulder with a spear. “There’s thieves everywhere. Why are you so concerned now?”

“It’s right by my restaurant,” the man stammered.

“Rats bedding down for the night,” the guard said. “Go home, Anong. We’ve got this covered.” He gave his companions a knowing look, and they began to pace the length of the street outside. None looked like they wanted to enter.

“Something’s wrong,” I mumbled over to Rai. “They’re just pretending to check it.”

“You believe they’re working for the assassins?”

I said nothing as I scanned the windows for any sign of movement. The irony of being in the exact same situation as I was a year ago, except it was now Rai at my side instead of Khine, wasn’t lost on me. I’d gotten out—wasn’t that the important thing? I was still alive and Rai was right there with me and we still weren’t trying to kill each other.

“I don’t see your guards,” Rai commented, breaking into my thoughts.

“Captain Nor abandoned me after your announcement,” I said in a low voice. “She thought it was a step too far. It didn’t just threaten my son—it threatened her daughter, too. I suppose she’s trying to find a way back to Oren-yaro on her own. I wish her all the best.”

“An Oren-yaro breaking her vows…”

“I already broke mine, as far as she was concerned.” I shrugged. “Lord General Ozo has turned on me, too. It was only a matter of time.” I caught a look of surprise on his face, that I could say these things calmly. But there was no sense denying them. When you name your fears, when you name your enemies, suddenly it’s easy enough to accept.

I cleared my throat as the guards returned to the manager, who was still standing there with his mouth half-open. “Who sent you?” one asked, pushing him to the ground.

“It’s—it’s Queen Talyien,” the manager stammered.

I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of my sword. Rai hesitated for a moment, and then pressed his hand over them. “Give it a moment,” he said.

“I don’t think we have a moment. If they attack now—”

The guards began laughing.

I watched as they slapped the manager on the back, tears rolling down the sides of their faces. “Come on, Anong, I’ll walk you home,” one eventually said, taking the manager by the arm. “The queen, indeed. Don’t guzzle wine before lunch, old man!”

They walked away, and I watched in horror as the guards returned to their posts.

Wordlessly, I darted down the steps that led to the river docks, where we’d left Agos. There were boats tied along the piers, some with fishermen selling their wares straight from the nets. I crossed to the other end of the boardwalk and then up to the stables. Agos was gone, predictably. He wouldn’t have stood around and waited for us when he noticed we had disappeared. How long ago was that? An hour? Two?

Heart pounding, I turned around when I heard someone whistle from one of the passenger boats heading upriver. “Got two seats left!” the conductor, a short, fat man holding out a bucket of coins, called out. He jiggled them, as if the sound alone would be enough to send more coming his way.

A skeletal-looking woman jostled her way through the crowd, squeezing between people waiting in line. “Let me on this one!” she screeched, waving her basket in the air. “Some idiot took my seat from the last boat!”

“You’re not talking about the priests, are you, lady?” the conductor laughed. “You know that’s blasphemy.”

“Kibouri priests don’t belong in the river lands,” she said, heaving herself onto the deck. “Don’t know why a group would feel the need to travel to Oren-yaro, unless it’s to join their friends in causing trouble. This damn nation’s falling apart at the seams.”

My ears prickled. I remembered Khine talking about the protests through the city. Was it possible he had escaped the theatre?

“Hey!” I called to the woman just as the conductor began yelling for a final passenger. “What did this man look like? The one who stole your seat?”

“Didn’t get a good look at the asshole,” she replied. “Why, are you reporting him to the guards for me? Tell them he pushed me. I almost fell into the river.”

“Stealing a seat isn’t a crime.”

“The hell it’s not. He looked Akkian. Those bastards are the rudest, most irritating people I’ve ever met.”

“Was he tall? With a blue shirt?”

“So you know the bastard! Well, if I miss my appointment, I’m going to—”

The last passenger clambered in, and she began screaming as the boat left the dock.

“It sounds to me like he escaped,” Rai said.

“He would have seen the Kibouri priests. He told me he thinks we should ask them to help.”

Rai shook his head. “They won’t. They’re traditionally associated with the Ikessars, but it’s a one-way street. We embraced the religion—they didn’t exactly embrace us. The sect itself refuses to be politically aligned.”

“But the protests…”

“They’re for Jin-Sayeng. They think the royals have gone too far. They are urging people to do something about it.”

“You mean the commoners? They should talk to Kaggawa, then.” I turned around and clambered back up the steps to the street.

“Where are you going?” Rai asked.

“Back to the theatre,” I breathed. “I want to make sure. The assassins might still be there.”