Sang woke to the sounds of conflict.
She was up instantly and out the chamber door with guan dao in hand within seconds. The disturbance had not roused her alone; doors were slamming open along the outer passage. Typhenon, who’d been keeping watch in the corridor itself, yanked open Maiko’s door and hurried inside. Kukulkan (in human form) came out of a nearby door while Shayu (wielding a large sword) and Isadora (wearing a sheet) emerged from the same room further down the hall. Isadora noticed Sang, gave a guilty squeak and fled back the way she’d come. Shayu merely gave the bushi a glance, looked at Maiko’s open door, then rushed in the other direction to the stairs leading down.
There was another crashing sound. Sang forced her mind away from Isadora and Shayu for the moment, and followed Kukulkan into Maiko’s room. The wooden framework and ricepaper window was broken and torn; she went over and looked through to the darkened grounds a couple of storeys below. Maiko was tearing off towards a distant building with Typhenon following some ways behind.
She’s all right.
A cold knot in her stomach loosened, but her muscles remained tense. She absently rubbed at her featherfall ring with a thumb, tempted to follow Maiko and Typhenon out the window to chase and destroy whoever or whatever the assailant had been, but restrained herself. Shayu had already gone out after them, and Sang could just make out lights as far-off doors opened and people looked out to see what the commotion was. She could hear Maiko’s voice raised in anger: “Gaijin assassin!”
Guards would be coming, and probably an official regarding security.
Sang glanced wordlessly at Kukulkan, then left the room to find herself an outer robe to throw on over her sleeping shift. She did not see the shapeshifter stoop to examine the floor once she’d left, then collect the drops of blood which he had found beaded atop the polished floorboards.
**
They had been lodged in an estate called the Palace of Eternal Sunset, a name with unpleasant connotations to everyone who realised how dangerous their current position was. Twenty guards arrived in short order, crammed into a ground floor room. Some of them came up to the apartments to usher Sang, Kukulkan and Isadora (who had dressed) downstairs, and here they rejoined Maiko, Typhenon and Shayu at a table. Servants brought them tea while they waited, but not everyone drank or even sat, either busy in their roles as bodyguard or maintaining an icy, affronted mask at having almost been murdered in the not-so-impenetrable Imperial City.
Sang sat, turned her chawan without really thinking about it, sipped and carefully set the bowl down. The peppermint-infused ocha rippled for a moment then settled to a flawless flat surface.
If only I could find calm so swiftly.
Maiko appeared unharmed, but Sang’s relief was countered by her anger that someone had tried to slink into the Jin’s room and murder her. They had known, they had all known that they would not be safe, that attempts would be made on their lives, but a strike against a companion would always shake her more deeply than one against herself.
She’s fine.
Sang sipped again, her eyes on the tea to avoid looking at anyone. She wanted to hear that Maiko was fine from her own lips, but didn’t want to ask with the guards and everyone else around in case the Jin felt obliged to keep up appearances by going on an angry tirade. On the other hand, she wasn’t even sure if she’d be able to ask in private. With her recent luck, Maiko would be insulted just as Shayu had been earlier in the evening.
She lifted her eyes ten minutes later, when the Prime Minister of the Interior and the Emperor’s Champion entered. The former gave the party a deep, sweeping bow, while the Champion barely nodded.
Once he’d looked over the party with a stern gaze, the Champion said, “I’m going to need to know everything that happened.” Sang had never heard the man speak before. His voice was quite deep and gravelly.
Maiko spoke her piece. The sound of a whiplash had brought her awake, and her trained warriors instincts had allowed her to react quickly enough to grab a nearby weapon and deflect the attack. Her attacker had been dressed in foreign clothing. She had chased him out the window, striking him a few times before he used some kind of trickery to render himself invisible. She’d tracked him as best she could, but once he reached hard ground it had become too difficult to follow him further.
Something in the Jin’s account didn’t ring completely true, but beyond the usual embellishments Sang couldn’t guess what.
The others followed up in turn saying what they did and saw, but nothing else had happened that Sang had not seen.
“The Empress Dowager is aghast at these proceedings,” the Champion intoned. “Until morning, these guards will remain here for your protection. When morning comes, more secure accomodations will be arranged for you.” He turned to leave.
“That won’t be necessary,” Maiko said coolly. “Come morning, we will seek other arrangements in the outer city.”
“That will be discussed,” the Champion threw over his shoulder, and left with the Minister on his heels.
Sang drained her tea, stood and went back upstairs without a word, Lord Yu’s Blade against her shoulder. Earlier in the day she’d come up with the idea of using the weapon for everyone to communicate without speaking aloud, which had worked. Of course, the catch was that everyone had to be touching it, and there was little hope of this being discreet with twenty guards observing. She saw no reason to stay awake if they couldn’t discuss what had happened, and besides… she felt tired, drained, and had a responsibility to at least try to recover her strength by morning.
In part… it had been an eventful day. Only this morning there had been proclamations in Tokai, Kaji leaving for a southern kingdom, Sang’s father operated on, her mother’s fear and anger and Typhenon’s open display of divine magic. In the afternoon, the long flight to Nakashibetsu. Their arrival, and the walk to the Imperial Palace that had seemed almost longer than Moonlight Brilliance’s passage through the skies. A great feast had followed, only to be abruptly terminated when, at the back of the grand hall, the Chugi delegation had stood and drawn steel. The guards had reacted at once; teleporting to the table the Chugi at either side of it had been cut down. The remaining six had plunged their blades into their own stomachs and cut from left to right in a ritual motion almost as old as the Empire. The Emperess Dowager had screamed her anger, declared the feast over and ordered the Chugi (alive and dead alike) to be dragged out, torn apart and thrown into the river for the carp to eat. The brutal, shocking command had not ended at that. About an hour later, back at the Palace of Eternal Sunset, the party (specifically Sang) had been presented with a covered platter with a message that the Dowager hoped this would ‘satisfy the Queen of the Yu that justice had been done’, or something like that. Given the savage way in which the bodies of the Chugi had been dealt with, Sang had not been at all surprised to find that the platter held six human hearts. The organs had burst into flames when uncovered; Maiko had launched from her chair and drawn her hookswords with a curse, but for some reason Sang had not flinched. She could remember staring into the conflagration, feeling the heat on her face, but aware of a cold fury building inside her. The blazing hearts were a warning, a threat. The Empress Dowager knew who they were. Two of the hearts had been missing—there had been eight Chugi in the hall, and Kukulkan had taken care of the six that had been delivered in the hopes he could spare their souls being imprisoned by the daemon who had done this to them.
And then there was Isadora. Sang had approached her while Kukulkan was busy with the hearts and the others were exploring the grounds. Isadora needed blood. Sang had asked the girl to promise that she would go to Sang whenever she needed to feed. The reason she’d given was that, even with Isadora’s skills in discretion, their position was too risky. The Dowager Empress only needed one good excuse to dispose of any of them. Sang had another reason for requesting Isadora’s word, but didn’t voice it. The fact was that she didn’t want Isadora feeding off anyone else if she could be the willing alternative. It would protect anyone else she might choose to prey on (and as much as she didn’t like to use the term ‘prey’ with her friend, it was getting harder to deny), and Sang believed she was strong enough to handle the after-effects of Isadora’s bite. So it had happened, with Kukulkan in watchful attendance in case the proceedings harmed Sang’s children, and while Sang had been prepared for the weakness that followed the feeding, she’d not expected the sweeping ecstasy of the bite itself. It had literally buckled her knees, and as Isadora’s arms had kept her from falling Sang had concentrated her will in an almost panic-driven reflex against the euphoria threatening to overcome all sense of her self control. It was the most fantastic feeling she had experienced, and it would have been easy, so very easy to let go, enjoy it, love it, be lost in it. That was the danger, and so she fought against it and strove to convince herself that what she felt was loathesome, an effect brought on by something that had turned her friend part daemon.
“I eat when you eat,” Isadora had demanded afterwards. “For every day you enjoy meals, I get to feed once.” Kukulkan had protested, but Sang had seen no choice but to agree in order for Isadora to keep her word. Seeing her emerge from Shayu’s room that evening had given her pause, but she shook it off. So long as no biting was involved it was none of her business, and she trusted Isadora still. She didn’t want to suspect her. Maiko probably wouldn’t be impressed if she discovered Shayu’s new bedmate, and that was even more reason to keep quiet. Shayu knew Maiko’s opinions of Isadora, he even knew what Isadora was.
Sang pondered this as she reached the passage leading to her chamber, Kukulkan following her and a small army of guards in their wake. Perhaps, since Shayu himself had once been infected by daemonic power, he was not so quick to judge Isadora. Having been cured, maybe he was even working up to convincing her to take the same chance.
Speculation… speculation… perhaps, maybe. They could just be enjoying each other.
She entered her room and shed the outer robe she wore as Kukulkan and the guards took up various points in the large chamber. She was glad of the shapeshifter’s presence, even as she doubted she’d get much more sleep tonight. She was also sorry for having to ignore his advice, that carrying on her deal with Isadora might be dangerous for the twins. He was, however, good at keeping secrets, and she knew he would not break a trust unless there was a good reason to do so. Not that it was a secret, mind, but if Typhenon knew he’d probably order her to stand aside and offer his own neck and Maiko…gods only knew. If anything, berrate Sang for knowingly weakening herself at a time she needed all her strength.
By the time she finds out, it might be something I need to hear. How long will I be able to keep this up? How long before Isadora realises how far she’s gone…
It was hard. Lord Yu had praised her, saying that what she did for Isadora was good, even assuring her that her children were strong enough to handle this, but it was hard. She didn’t want to enjoy what Isadora had to offer. She didn’t want to encourage her and make her think her abilities were something good. Even though the girl’s affliction had none of the outward mutations of Taint that Sang was familiar with, wasn’t it still similar at the core? How could she accept Isadora and be the friend she needed when she feared the daemon inside her?
“I don’t know what to say to her.”
“I am a warrior too,” Lord Yu had replied with understanding. “Perhaps this is something that Jin could aid you with.”
“Maybe,” Sang conceded but the Angel of Courage sensed her hesitation.
“You have an issue with my sister?”
“Not… as such. Maybe I am just not used to her.”
A half truth? A full lie? Lord Yu had either let it pass, or not seen it. Sang did not want to seek Jin’s aid, because she thought she knew what the angel’s advice would be—or part of it, at least. Being an Elonan angel, Sang feared that Jin would openly advocate having the time of her life with Isadora. If it wasn’t hurting anyone, if it helped Isadora, then why not?
But now we’ll be under guard. How will I find a way to let her feed tomorrow?
She set Lord Yu’s Blade down, frowning to herself, then set it aside to worry about tomorrow. There was plenty to dwell on, like the Emperor, and getting everyone out of here alive. She’d seen the Emperor for the first time at the feast today, and Sang had felt her hopes lift at last, for she’d fretted at his absence during their arrival. She’d waited for three hours as a succession of artistically presented meals were brought forth, expecting at any minute for him to speak to her mind like he had in Tokai, but the gold-shrouded figure never even moved. She’d begun to wonder if it was even him under the material. Kukulkan had later said that whoever had been beneath the golden shroud seemed to have been asleep the entire time.
Too many questions. I have to be patient and calm. I have to play their damn game. I’m starting to hate games. I can barely look at a go board anymore.
She stared at the great bed for several seconds then climbed in, unable to help feeling how very large, empty and cold it was.
I hope you are doing better than we are, love. Please be safe…
Pironious 1258691352|%e %b %Y, %H:%M %Z|agohover
