Season of the Dragon, page 2
The herdwife tucked the small bottle into her leather purse. “Thank you, Santu.” She kissed Pahpi’s weathered cheek, then turned to make her way out.
She stopped when she saw the three standing inside the door. Santu turned and noticed Kentaro Nevara.
Quen had seen Pahpi angry only a few times in her nineteen years. Once, she and Rhoji tussled over the last slice of cream cake. They’d broken a cask of precious still water. Pahpi made them do chores for Dini an entire month, and neither got to eat the cake. The other time was a few months ago when word of new Kovan Dynasty taxes arrived.
Santu looked angrier now than he had on either of those occasions. Bushy salt-and-pepper brows were knit over eyes like charred coals. His usually jovial smile had turned to a large frown beneath flared nostrils.
His voice was a low growl. “How dare you darken my door!”
Santu drew his belt knife and advanced on Kentaro Nevara. “I told you if I ever saw you again, I’d kill you.”
Chapter 2
Undaunted
Undaunted, Nevara faced Pahpi’s poised blade. Either she doesn’t consider Pahpi a threat, or she’s prepared for death.
Rhoji thrust his body between Santu’s dagger and the stoic Kentaro. “No, Pahpi!”
Santu’s steel blade remained at the ready, his face red with rage. If Santu killed a Kentaro, the Jagaru would take his head. The Sulmére’s roving bands of vigilante justiciars, Jagaru wouldn’t bother carting a Kentaro killer to a Dynasty prison.
Nevara evinced neither anger nor fear. She doesn’t cower while a man intimidates her with a blade. Impressive. Though Nevara didn’t blanch, Pahpi refused to back down.
Fano once told Quen of Kentaro who conjured swords of flame. For once, Pahpi, heed Rhoji’s advice. Quen moved to his side and put her hand on the wrist holding the knife. “Whatever this stranger has done, you cannot make justice your own.” Quen tried to speak calmly, as Pahpi did when Hiyadi’s fires rose in her, but her voice quavered. She coughed and continued, using Pahpi’s often-used phrase. “Still Waters.”
Pahpi looked at her as if he’d just seen her. His lower lip still trembled with anger, but he allowed Quen to lower his arm. She peeled the knife from his fingers and eased it into the scabbard hooked to his belt.
Pahpi wiped the spittle from his lip. “Leave us, you two.” His hand shaky, he gestured at Rhoji and Quen. “This ‘Kentaro’ and I must have words.” He emphasized ‘Kentaro’ as though it was a filthy word, at least when applied to Nevara.
Rhoji hesitated and glanced at Nevara to see if she was okay being left alone with Pahpi. Kentaro Nevara didn’t beg him to stay. Rhoji blanched, then bowed and said, “I will take my leave, then.” He hurried out, no doubt wanting to escape the Kentaro’s dismissive attitude toward him.
Quen acted as though Pahpi hadn’t told her to leave. Why did Nevara travel such a distance to speak with Pahpi?
“You too, Quen. What we must discuss—”
It might be about me. Quen had no basis for the idea other than the burning neck ridge and the agitated quiver of her shadow heart since Nevara entered Solia’s gates. I must know if this concerns me. “I’ll help you maintain calm waters, Pahpi.” She stroked his arm to calm him and prove herself useful.
His brow smoothed, and his voice was even. “This Rajani wants to discuss matters from long ago. It is no business for your ears, Quen.” Pahpi chucked her under the chin like he’d done when she was a child. “Put up the sign, so no customers disturb us.”
What is a Rajani? Don’t dismiss me like a child.
Pahpi’s lips were a thin line, and his voice was a low growl. “Go.”
Quen had never seen Pahpi so unyielding. She’d always done her best not to defy him. Pahpi unquestioningly accepted her in his home, regardless of her oddities and curse with animals. I need Pahpi’s support, but I must know why the Kentaro came to speak to him. Sunlight glinting off Nevara’s ruby-jeweled hair clip gave Quen an idea. I’ll leave as he commanded, but I’ll find the answers I seek.
Quen bowed dutifully to Pahpi. “As you wish, I will take my leave.” Protocol required her to bow respectfully to her elders, so she briefly bowed to Nevara, too, before backing out of Santu’s Stand.
I can listen from above. As a child, she’d splayed herself on the roof and “spied” on Pahpi through the opening many times in a game she’d played with Rhoji. It should work as it did before.
She moved swiftly to the back of Santu’s Stand. Rhoji was nowhere to be seen. Probably gone to trade skins with the Pijwar or gossip at Yulina’s. Santu’s Stand hid her from the view of people milling around the merchant square.
Though a robust climber, Quen wasn’t overly fond of high places. Sweat beaded on her brow. She pressed her keffla lightly against her forehead to sop up the perspiration. Light on her feet and nimble, Quen quickly made her way up the side of the mud building. The mixture of stones, reed-filled mud, and sand plaster created natural indentations in the otherwise smooth walls, perfect foot and handholds for climbing.
Quen eased out onto a round wood beam. It feels smaller than when I was a child. Her heart raced as Quen shimmied toward the center. The wood beams groaned from her weight. She stopped to rest, her arms trembling. She creeped again, patient and deliberate. The beams were silent. As she neared the edge of the opening, she straddled between two logs, so each had only half her weight. She rested her hands and head on the thick waxed canvas shutters.
Santu hadn’t calmed down since she left him. “You are the reason she died, you blighted shadow-spawn bitch.”
Quen covered her mouth with a hand to stifle a gasp. She’d never heard Pahpi utter profanities or say an unkind word. And what had he said—“reason she died.” Is he speaking of my Madi?
Kentaro Nevara didn’t recoil at his insult. “You are an intelligent man, Santu. And industrious to create a life—here.” She looked around with her lip again curled in apparent disgust. “Yet you are ignorant in the ways of women. There is much that eludes you, Kensai.”
Kensai? It was the term applied in the Pillars to someone raised from Rising to Ascended in the study of Vaya di Solis. Quen knew her father had studied at Val’Enara in his youth, but he’d never talked about being full Kensai.
Santu’s harsh laugh was ironic. “Don’t tell me you came here to teach me about women.” His face was dark, his sour mood palpable. “You have no right to speak her name, let alone march into my home and raise a claim to my daughter.”
‘Claim to my daughter’? What is he talking about? Quen sweated so profusely that a drop fell from her forehead to the floor of Santu’s Stand.
While Pahpi didn’t notice, Nevara looked up. As quick as the strike of a desert asp, Santu grasped a long, thin, gleaming silver sword from a dusty scabbard hidden beneath sacks on the shelves behind him. He thrust it at Nevara’s midsection.
Nevara leaned the upper half of her body back, displaying abnormal speed. Swiftness like I have. The kind that makes people wary of me. The woman dodged Santu’s attack without leaving the spot where she stood. Nevara sprang backward, feet over head, putting distance between them.
It was a move Quen had used when sparring with Heiji, a younger boy from the Jima Clan. Quen had easily avoided Heiji’s practice blade, and he’d suffered a humiliating defeat at the hands of a girl. Heiji had accused her of being a slint, shadowy slithering beasts and the worst type of Nixan known for stealing children in the night. Though Quen never performed the somersaulting move again, word of it spread through the herdclans, and no children would befriend her for several seasons. Is this woman a slint? Am I one too? The idea made Quen’s chest feel like a band had tightened around it.
As soon as Nevara landed, she pulled her hands toward her chest. Fiery embers engulfed Nevara’s torso in a warm glow. She thrust her arms up, and a wide column of fire rose from the dirt floor. Flames licked through the opening in the round ceiling.
Quen pulled away from the hole, barely avoiding being singed by the flames.
“Call your quenching waters now, Kensai Santu,” Nevara mocked.
The flames hadn’t reached the opening. Quen eased back to the edge. Extinguish these unnatural flames with Enara’s waters, Pahpi.
Nevara’s flames reflected on Pahpi’s silver blade. His hands shook so hard the blade quivered, yet he didn’t call dousing waters. Why doesn’t he call on the waters of Enara to quell her Vatra fires?
Pahpi lowered his weapon.
Nevara’s smile widened. She lowered her arms, and the column of fire dwindled, then sputtered out. The swirling embers vanished, too. Where the column of fire had risen, the ground was uncharred. If Quen hadn’t witnessed the flames, she would never believe a fire had raged in Santu’s Stand. Or maybe it was an illusion.
Nevara smoothed her hair, though it didn’t appear unkempt to Quen. “She is not like others. Surely you have noticed this by now.”
Santu wiped the sweat from his brow with a still-shaky hand. “I know she is my child. To me, nothing else matters.”
Nevara scoffed. “Loving her won’t keep the beast within at bay.”
Quen’s hearts pounded, and her ears were suddenly hot. The shock made her feel like one of the blacksmith Fano’s iron wheel loops tightened around her midsection. How does this woman know my secret? Her sweating hands were slippery on the wood, and she nearly fell.
Pahpi’s voice held contempt. “You are no Kentaro. Your Dragos Sol’iberi cult caters to fearful and superstitious people—and to those ignorant of the inner heart of Vaya di Solis. Quen’s mismatched eyes mean the gods bless her doubly, nothing more.”
Nevara said, “You know her bicolored eyes only hint at the truth. She has a neck ridge. I felt it myself when she was a babe.”
Quen’s innards seized into a tight ball. ‘I felt it myself when she was a babe.’ Who is this woman? If Nevara had been around at Quen’s birth, she must have known Quen’s mother, Suliam. Even though Nevara frightened Quen, and Pahpi wanted no part of her, Quen wished to speak with her. What does she know about my neck ridge? And how did she know Suliam, my Madi?
Wetness played at Santu’s lids, making his eyes twinkle. “The vile magic you used on Suliam may mean Quen was born touched by Vay’Nada’s shadow. But I raised her with the teachings of Vaya di Solis. She has the gentle and loving light of Lumine in her heart.” Santu kissed his thumb and made a crescent mark on his forehead. “Nearly twenty years, and Quen is still Quen. Lumine protects her.”
Does Pahpi know? Quen’s fingers trembled as she fingered the bony prominence on her neck.
Nevara ignored Santu’s comment. She searched the inner folds of her robes.
Santu raised his sword again, this time in a defensive posture.
Nevara moved slowly to not unnerve him further and produced a rolled scroll. Santu relaxed his posture and lowered his weapon. Nevara untied the yellow silk tie around the scroll and handed it to Santu.
Pahpi used the tip of his sword to push the scroll away. “This changes nothing. Suliam made that promise while under your spell. Such a promise is void, and I’ll not honor it.”
Quen crawled closer to the edge, trying to read the scroll. She was too far away, and the print was too small to read.
With a finger fitted with a silver claw-shaped cap, Nevara pointed at the scroll. “She was under no spell save for the desperation of any Consular’s wife to deliver a third child to complete the Trinity. Suliam promised the child to the Dragos Sol’iberi before she was even conceived. Quen is a child of the fires, Santu, not truly yours. She belongs with my Rajani sisters and me. I came to collect what you owe us.”
‘Child of the fires?’ ‘Touched by the shadow’ could refer to being Nixan. Most people called Nixan “shadow-spawn” and assumed they were creatures of the shadow’s realm, Vay’Nada. Has Pahpi always known? Has he been trying to prevent my Nixan soul’s Promena with Still Waters training?
“I do not care what Vay’Nada bargain of dark spirit you made with Suliam.” Pahpi dashed the scroll to the ground and trampled it into the sandy dirt floor. “Quen is a person, not a sack of flour. You will never take her.” He rose to his full height and filled his chest with air, making it larger. Instantly, he appeared younger and more vital.
Nevara shrieked, her cackling laughter like a wounded bird rather than a woman. Her eyes, thickly lined in black kohl, were dark, menacing orbs. “Do not try a glamour with me, Kensai.” Her laughter died. “I came to collect what Suliam promised to the Dragos Sol’iberi.” She thumped her chest. “I came for what she promised to me.”
Nevara isn’t a Kentaro from a Pillar? Sweat soaked Quen’s underclothes and keffla. Pahpi said Nevara stank of Vay’Nada—the shadow realm. What does that scroll say?
There was a subtle movement below as Quen pondered the many questions and possibilities racing through her mind. Though she hadn’t taken her eyes off them, she still couldn’t believe what she saw.
“Meet Corvus, Santu.” Nevara closed her eyes, spread her arms wide, and tucked her head. She flapped her arms up, then slammed them down to her sides. By the time her fingertips hit her thighs, she had fingers no more but wings. Before Pahpi stood a giant raven. The raven flapped its mighty wings and sent goods flying off the shelves of Santu’s Stand. Its feathers and eyes were as dark as the bubbly tars of the Phisma pits, its yellow talons as sharp as daggers. A woman mere seconds before, Nevara was now a giant raven named Corvus, poised to strike Santu with knife-like claws.
Quen pushed to her feet. She sprang like a snake uncoiling, did a somersault as elegant as a traveling performer, then splatted like a thrown melon between Corvus and Santu. The graceful leap turned ugly entrance knocked the wind from her, but it served the purpose. Quen had thwarted Corvus’s attack, at least for a few seconds.
Breathing was painful. Quen felt her side. Bruised ribs.
“Quen, for the love of Lumine’s teats, what are you doing?” Santu asked.
“No ‘thank you’?” Quen let out an indignant breath.
She held up a hand, and Santu helped her to stand. His brows knitted again. The glamour he’d affected of being larger and younger wore off. With his Bardivian height and breadth of shoulders, Santu had always been an imposing figure. But compared to the giant bird Corvus, Pahpi looked small and vulnerable. Corvus could have struck him down.
Quen squared her feet and put herself between Corvus and Santu. “I don’t know who—or what—you are.” Her voice was shrill and sounded forced. Quen coughed and swallowed. “If my First Kin says I’m not to go with you, I’ll abide by his law. I embrace Lumine’s calm waters, not Hiyadi’s chaos of fire.” Quen had no natural Vaya di Menaris—the magical arts—ability or training, but she knew how to pray. She said a silent prayer to Lumine, the patron goddess of Enara, and hoped quenching waters would magically appear from her hands. As usual when she called on them, the elemental spirits didn’t answer. The air remained dry and still.
Corvus landed with grace. Its beak and feathers melted like a mirage on a blistering hot day. Nevara returned to her original form in less time than it takes to sneeze.
Her black eyes bored into Quen as though she could see through her to the bony ridges on her spine. “We determined your destiny before you were born, girl.” Nevara’s voice was a low hiss, full of rancor she’d hidden with false sweetness. “Wherever you go, tragedy will follow. Until you face the truth of what you are, you’ll lay waste to villages. Kingdoms even.” Nevara’s attempt to smile came across as a grotesque sneer. “Come with me to Volenex.” She held out a silver-clawed hand. “You belong with the Rajani of the Dragos Sol’iberi. We have the answers you seek.” She leaned closer and whispered, “You have seen Corvus, my Nixan soul. I know how to help you through the pain of your first Promena.”
Quen had many questions, and she was desperate for answers. What does it truly mean to be Nixan? And can I banish my Nixan soul completely? Nevara’s invitation tempted.
Before she could blurt out the questions swirling in her mind, the base of her neck tingled again. The hairs on her arms were on end. It was like she was being turned inside out through her navel. Moments ago, she’d been sweating through her underclothes from the midday heat. Now she shivered as the Void of Vay’Nada, the shadow realm, sucked away her heat.
She swayed, and her vision doubled. The sound of licking flames, the crackle of burning wood. Shouts and screams. The odor of burnt hair and flesh. Nausea washed over her, and Quen swallowed hard to keep the bile down. Quen shook her head, trying to clear her clouded mind. She’d never had a vision before. Nevara is doing this to me. She’s drawing power from Vay’Nada to befuddle my mind and scare me. Nevara tempted her to go to the Volenex place she’d mentioned. But the idea of someone reaching into her mind and manipulating her thoughts made Vatra’s fires roil in her gut. “Do not curse me with Vay’Nada.”
Nevara’s placid smile returned. “It is a prophecy, not a curse.”
“Prophecy?” Quen grabbed the scroll Pahpi had smeared into the dirt. The words were illegible, covered in dust. She blew it off, but before she could read it, Pahpi snatched it back.
Pahpi’s voice was strained. “This is the Shadow’s work, Quen. Old business that concerns us no longer.” He thrust the scroll to Nevara. “Take your dark words from my house and never return. We walk in Lumine’s light.”
Before Quen could tear the scroll back from Pahpi, Nevara seized it. “Have it your way, Kensai Santu.” Nevara rolled the scroll and tucked it inside her black robes.
Dammit. I wanted to read what that infernal scroll says.
Nevara gestured around them. “This is your home, after all. Such as it is.” Her expression reflected her distaste. “If I am unwelcome, I shall take my leave.”
“But—” Quen couldn’t let Nevara leave. She wanted to face Nevara and pepper her with the jumble of questions buzzing her mind like a hive of angry bees. Quen’s mother, Suliam, had made a dark contract with Nevara. A contract for her. Mother, why? Dini once said only curses and plagues come from bargains made with shadow-spawn. Is that why I’m cursed, why the shadow sucks at me? Why would you make such a vile bargain?
