Part of her had hoped that things would change after she had forced him to dance with the fire. And it had. They had drifted closer—too close.
Despite being just Jin to Rhen, she felt like he knew her better than anyone else ever had—anyone except Janu. She understood Rhen. He trusted her, likely against his best instincts. And she had faith in him.
But it was that very connection, deep and only strengthening by the day, that made Jinji uneasy. No one could ever take the place of her people in her heart. She wouldn’t allow it, not when their legacy depended on her—she owed them at least that.
"Do you think we will find any answers in your home? Any word of the shadow I mentioned?"
It was a stretch, a faint hope, but she had to ask the question.
He tore his eyes away from the land laid out before them, looking down at her in sympathy.
"I don't know, Jin. I don't even know what to look for."
Her heart sunk, dropping an inch deeper into her chest.
"In Roninhythe," her mouth stumbled over the long word, still not comfortable on her tongue, "I heard sailors talking. They said two of their own had died, one with a slit throat just like…like Maniuk," she forced the name out, taking a deep breath. "And two children were found dead by the wall. The lord said they fell, but one of them had a slit throat too. It can't be coincidence, it—"
"I heard the same, Jin," Rhen said, reaching down to pat her shoulder, "my friend, son of the Lord of Roninhythe, he told me something similar. But what would the shadow want with all of those people? The Arpapajo, children, soldiers, sailors? They have nothing in common. It is more the act of a thief than a ghost."
"I—"
"And even if it is this shadow, what do you mean to do, Jin? How can you catch something that does not exist, that jumps from body to body, that ensnares the mind? How could you even fight it?"
"I don't know," she said softly, chin sinking down into her chest.
Rhen knelt.
"I know it hurts, but your family is gone, Jin. It would be better for you to move on and live your life."
And there it was. The very thing she had been dreading Rhen would say, would believe. He wanted her to forget.
Janu's face flashed before Jinji's eyes.
Had she forgotten?
Never.
Jinji turned to Rhen, eyes narrowing as her heart started to pound. "Move on?" Her nostrils flared. Her lips quivered. "Move on? As if you have any right to tell someone else to move on, Prince Whylrhen."
"Jin, I didn’t mean—"
"Didn't mean what?" She stood, meeting him as close to face to face as her small size would allow. "That they are dead? That they are never coming back? And that means I should just let them go?"
"No, but—"
"Do they not deserve to be avenged? To be cared for, even in death? Someone must remember, and I am the only one left who can."
She stopped, panting, not used to talking so aggressively. Rhen looked on shocked, a little hurt.
"Jin, why are you so angry?"
She took a deep breath, trying to control the swell in her chest, but it was no use. The floodgate had opened. And Rhen was the only person around to take the hit.
"Ka'shasten. Do you know what that means?"
Rhen scrunched his forehead, dumbfounded.
"It means family, loved ones, and so much more than that. It is unexplainable, it is part of my soul, just like my people were—are."
"Kayashastian," he tried, mumbling the word.
"Ka'shasten," she repeated, her heart melting and breaking at the same time. He had tried, tried to understand her, to help her. But the failure was all the more bittersweet because of it, all the more noticeable. Differentiating. "Do you know what it feels like to be the only person in the world who understands what that means? I cannot just let it go, let them go. We are one people, something a newworlder would never understand."
"So now I'm a newworlder?"
"You always were," she said, a hard edge in her voice. "It is not my fault that you cannot see it."
"Maybe you're the one who can't see." He pointed at her, defensive. "A sword? Leather pants? A fine silk jacket? You don't look like an oldworlder to me Jin, not anymore."
She looked down at herself, the breeches sticking to her legs, the shirt billowing over her chest. Where were the animal hides? The skins bleached soft in the sun?
A lump caught in her throat. Her eyes began to sting.
Before she knew it, she was running, stomping over wooden boards. Rhen called her name, but it was lost on the wind. She kept fleeing, not wanting to face his words, or hers.
Only when the cabin was locked behind her did the tears start to fall. She bit them back, crawling onto the bed, closing her eyes tightly and imagining a different time, a different life.
She was a little girl. It was the night before Sanjiju—their most beloved ceremony. The next morning the tribe would wake at sunrise to celebrate the spirits in prayer and dance. For the first time, she and Janu would partake in the fast. Already her stomach was rumbling. But there was an excitement in the air that only came once a year, when the winter was shed and a new spring was arriving, a time for renewal.
Jinji could remember lying in that bed as though it were only yesterday, counting the minutes as they went by. But the next morning was not her favorite part of the memory, it was seconds later.
Jinji, she could remember Janu whispering. He tapped her arm and she flipped to face him on their shared pallet.
From the other side of the small cabin, their father shushed them both, reprimanding their disrespect. It was time to sleep. Tomorrow would be a long day. They would need energy. And everything else a parent said to a disobedient child.
Jinji covered her mouth, giggling. Janu did not try to cover his laugh. She pinched his arm, but it only made him louder.
Be quiet, she remembered whispering. Father will move you to the longhouse and then we won't be able to play.
He sighed heavily, but quieted himself and moved closer. The starlight filtered in through the smoke hole at the top of their home, just enough to see the glisten in each other's eyes.
Then Jinji reached out, grabbing Janu's hand and flipping it face up. Using her fingers, she tapped a beat onto his palm.
One. Two. Three. Very fast with her pointer. Then one slow with her pinky. Then two fast with her thumb. Then three slow, each a different finger.
Janu watched, straining to see her fingers in the dark. When she was done, he flipped her palm, trying to copy. But at the end, he only tapped slowly twice. She shook her head, grinning, and made a new beat.
They played for an hour before falling fast asleep mid-tap, fingers holding onto each other in the dark—almost as though the spirits knew that it would be their last Sanjiju together, that they would need that extra time. By the next year, Jinji would be dancing for him, and not with him, during the ceremony.
Jinji sighed, rolling over as her head returned to the present day, to the ship—to her loneliness. Her heart had slowed, as had her tears. But she was still curled in a little ball, clutching her knees.
Someone was outside the door. She heard the unmistakable creak of footsteps, pacing back and forth. The doorknob jiggled. A curse filtered through the wood. And then…
"Jin? Did you lock the door?"
She didn't respond. She just closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean, of course you shouldn't forget your family and your people. I would never suggest that. And I shouldn't have said that about you being a newworlder—because believe me when I say you most definitely are not."
A thud hit the door, likely his back as he shifted his weight.
Jinji remained silent. She owed him an apology as well—she knew it. There was no reason for her to yell at him, no reason at all, except that she was starting to say goodbye. And it would be easier to say goodbye to someone she hated. Not
a friend. Especially not the only one she had left in this world.
"I'll help you find this shadow, I will. As soon as the Naming is complete and I've warned my father on the Ourthuri treachery, I'll devote all of my time to the search. And we'll figure out how to destroy it together."
He paused, waiting.
Jinji pictured him, leaning against the door, fists firm over his head, his expression pleading.
"Why?" She didn’t mean to say it out loud, but it happened. And words were like that. Once said, you could never take them back—no matter how much you wished you could.
"Because," he said, thinking, "you saw the part of me that I keep hidden from the rest of the world, and it didn't scare you. We're brothers, Jin. Somehow, someway, a Son of Whyl and an Arpapajo became brothers."
She took a deep breath, ignoring the sudden heat warming her chest, and sat up. At least he doesn't know I'm a girl, she thought, smiling to herself before standing.
Midway up, she frowned, quickly inversing her features.
This changed nothing. She was still leaving. All it did was ensure that Rhen would hate her all the more once she left.
"Now will you come open the door? I feel like an idiot talking to myself."
Jinji rolled her eyes.
As she neared the door, her heart began to flutter, sending chills down her arms. She twisted the lock. Her heart skipped a beat, waiting, watching the entrance.
It opened.
Rhen took up the entire frame, and he was looking at her expectantly.
Jinji stifled the urge to run into his arms, to throw her hands around his neck, to seek the comfort she so earnestly desired. Instead, she planted her feet, silently waiting like she always did.
"Well?" He asked. His left cheek twitched, his lip rose and a crooked lazy smile gathered on his face.
Jinji shrugged in response, not trusting her body to listen to her.
"Don't you want to see my home?"
"We've arrived?" She asked, perking up.
"It speaks!" he teased, reaching out to tousle the short hair on top of her head. She missed his touch when it was gone, leaving her colder.
"Come, Rayfort awaits."
Jinji followed him back on deck, emerging to a scene that stole her breath.
Rhen pointed to the side, where a pile of dull gray stones sat in ruin, overgrown with moss and speckled green. "Over there is where the original castle once stood. But when Whyl the Conqueror united the lands, he rebuilt Rayfort on the peninsula and to show his strength, they mined rocks from the Gates to build the castle and its walls."
Rhen pointed again, this time to the exact spot that had originally drawn Jinji's attention—a gleaming, pristine ivory castle, like something out of a dream. Similar to Roninhythe, the castle was built from sturdy stone, rising from a surrounding wall with tall circular pillars stretching high into the air. Against the blue sky and speckled colors of the surrounding city, the castle seemed almost magical. Something within her felt pulled toward it, connected to it, almost as if it were made of jinjiajanu—of the spirits.
Jinji pulled her eyes away to take in the rest of the sprawling city—the largest she had ever seen, even greater than Da'astiku. The castle sat on a hill in the center, rising above everything else, but the sea of rooftops never seemed to end. They were in front of the castle, behind the castle, to the left, to the right. More stone, some wood—grays and reds and browns—stretching until the very edge of the sea where an outer wall stood, white stones sinking into the water.
Beside her, Rhen took a deep, satisfied breath. His shoulders relaxed, and his whole body seemed to shed the weight of worry that had been holding him down.
He's home, Jinji thought.
"The city has three layers of defense," Rhen said, excitedly moving his hands around, "the outer wall is the first layer, then there is an inner wall, if you can see the white towers cutting out from the rooftops—there and there—and finally, the castle wall. It's never been sacked and not for lack of trying. Built on the peninsula, land attacks are near impossible because the enemy can only approach from one side, and it is somewhat of an uphill battle for them. And by sea, though you might think Rayfort is easily surrounded, the Straits give an early line of fire. The only time the Ourthuri tried to attack our capital, the ships were set ablaze in the Straits using flaming arrows and oil. The enemy never even reached the White Stone Sea."
Pride shone through his voice.
"Is there no other way than through the Straits?"
Rhen shook his head. "The other rivers are too shallow for warships. They only carry small merchant vessels."
"Then how do you think the Ourthuri king plans to win this war?"
"I don't know, Jin, I really don't." He shook his head. His tone lifted. Just seeing his home had made his spirits rise higher than Jinji had seen them in days.
She looked back out at the fast approaching city. Rayfort. The guards on the outer wall were starting to come into focus. Rhen waved—his red silken coat and auburn hair unmistakable, even from that distance. A horn sounded, happy and jubilant. On the docks, everyone paused, watching their arrival. People started to gather at the edges, observing with smiles on their faces.
There was no mistaking that Rhen belonged here. He was their prince. And already Jinji could tell that these people loved him.
But would they ever love her? Could she ever love them?
Her palms began to sweat on the wood.
It didn’t matter, she reasoned with a mental shrug. In a matter of days, she would be gone.
And she would never be coming back.
16
Rhen
~ Rayfort ~