Chapter 35
Captain Yang
I should be a mess by the time I reach the Palace. I should be flustered, guilty, confused.
I’m not.
I’m… amazed.
I’ve never felt power like this, I’ve never felt as balanced as this.
More than that, I have never felt as in tune with magic as I do now. It’s as though I could send out a blast so powerful, it could part the heavens in two. And who knows, with the amount of magic now surging through my body, maybe I can.
My Arak device feels as though it’s melted completely into my wrist – the spirit of magic within becoming indistinguishable from my own essence.
If Yin hadn’t convinced me to teach her the fan dance, I would never have felt this. I would never have known it was even possible.
For the past three weeks, I’ve given little thought to anything other than training the Princess and finding out Garl’s secrets.
I’ve forgotten Castor’s warning that I must reconnect to my magic.
Now… I understand it.
I’m still not convinced about his story. I still haven’t found enough to condemn Garl, but what I have found has not cleared his name. In fact, if anything, it’s only made me more suspicious.
There have been too many cover-ups, too many coincidences. Untimely deaths, rebellious villagers silenced.
I want to believe he’s not capable of it, but that desire is slowly being overrun with truth.
Garl may not be as guilty as Castor wants me to believe, but I’m starting to find out he’s not as innocent as I want to believe either.
But now, on top of that, I have something else to think about.
.…
Before I saw Yin this morning, I was weighed down with fatigue and responsibility. The mounting stresses of helping to train the Princess compounded with my suspicions of Garl have produced a treacherous mix.
Now, however, I feel as though I can take on the world.
I feel more connected with my Arak device and my magic than I ever have before. It’s no cold, numbing connection. It’s invigorating.
It gives me the energy I need to march up those Palace stairs and be prepare for whatever might meet me.
I can’t be sure nobody saw Yin and I practicing. I hope they didn’t, but for all I know, Garl may have popped back into his office, only to see me… lost in movement.
I just have to find out.
If I walk into the Palace only to have him charge me with treason, so be it.
But as I do walk into the Palace, it’s not to the sight of a ruddy-cheeked Garl ready to chop my head off.
Instead, the Princess comes running up to me and hooks an arm around mine.
She looks so very happy to see me, her cheeks spreading wide in a warm smile. “Where have you been? Everybody’s here, and we’ve been waiting for you.”
“I was unavoidably detained. I apologize, your Highness.”
“I told you,” she says as she presses her hand into my arm, “you don’t have to stand on ceremony with me.”
I nod.
“I didn’t want to begin until you were here. I want you here for this,” she says as the happy tone to her voice wavers.
My eyebrows immediately crumple. “What do you mean?”
“They’ve found another scroll,” she says excitedly, except excitement quickly gives way to fear. “The record keepers. About the Savior. About my legend.”
I swallow and nod.
“It will tell me what I have to do next. The challenges I have to pass in order to develop the skills I need.”
I swallow and nod again.
I should be thinking only of the critically important news the Princess is sharing. Instead, all I can think of is how it felt to have Yin move around me seamlessly, fluidly, the two of us in perfect balance.
“Everybody is waiting in the records room.”
Everybody. Which means Castor will be there.
The same Castor who told me if I ever lay a hand on Yin, he would rip my throat out.
Well, I haven’t hurt her, but I can’t help feeling that if the old man ever found out I taught her the fan dance, he might just rip my throat out anyway.
I’m treading a fine line, and I know that. But I can’t stop.
I don’t know who to trust anymore. With the questions over Garl, my world is slowly crumbling.
Now I wonder whether I’ve been looking for trust in the wrong circles.
Whether I’ve been looking for certainty in the wrong place.
It’s true that I still don’t know what’s happening. Though the dance was invigorating and powerful, it hasn’t changed what’s happening to me. From the looming threat of the end of the age, to Garl – all of that remains.
Yet, I feel more certain than I ever have.
Because it has shifted my focus.
With the power running through my veins, and the knowledge of what I managed to do alongside Yin, I realize I shouldn’t be caught up in what the world can do to me.
I should concentrate on what I can do to it.
I am not powerless.
The odds may seem insurmountable, but as I learned today, there are forces out there I can rely on.
So I don’t shake. I walk on, my head held high.
When we reach the records room, those truly gaunt record keepers are waiting for us. Along with General Garl and Castor.
“Yang, so nice of you to finally join us,” Garl says.
I don’t cower. I nod. “You have my apologies. I was unavoidably detained,” I say, sharing nothing more. If he asks for an excuse, I’ll think of one. For now, I’ll act as if I don’t have a thing to hide.
“We should get going,” the Princess says as she walks up behind me. She’s standing close, and I can tell she probably wants to hook her arm back into mine. Thankfully she contains herself.
The two record keepers bow to the Princess, then they wave us forward. We go down the stairs, flight after flight, until we reach the base of the library.
My stomach steadily becomes more and more clenched. I can remember what happened the last time I went down here. That book, the scroll with the glowing handwriting and the blood soaked hand prints.
It’s enough to make me want to turn around and run away. But considering the confidence still burning within me, I step forward and hide my true feelings.
The Princess walks ahead with the two record keepers, Garl just behind them, and I try to take up the rear guard. Try, because Castor keeps falling behind. As he does, he draws alongside me, and I can see him looking at me carefully.
“What?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“I see you have been taking my advice,” he says in a whisper.
My eyes draw wide as my heartbeat reverberates through my chest.
Does he know I’m investigating Garl? I’ve been so careful, trying so hard to keep my questions as discrete as possible.
“You are no longer denying your emotions, and somehow, you have found a way to reconnect with the essence of your magic. You have a long way to go yet,” Castor notes as his eyes still pierce through me, “but you have started.”
I don’t say anything.
“I admit, I didn’t think you could do it,” Castor says quietly. In fact, his words are so carefully whispered that I doubt anyone can hear them apart from me. Even if Garl were standing right between us, I doubt he would be able to pick up what Castor is saying now.
For Castor is once more using that strange, unquantifiable magic.
“I don’t need your advice,” I say defensively.
“Then stop listening to it,” Castor challenges.
I take a calming breath, drawing on the latent tingles of energy that still fill me from the dance.
They bolster me better than building a wall around my heart.
In fact, though I can feel Castor trying to undermine me, I don’t succumb to it as easily.
“Whatever you’re doing, I suggest you
keep doing it. Then you will find the true power of Arak summoning. The secrets that have been hidden for too long. Keep digging until you uncover the secrets, Captain. For you need to know everything,” Castor says as he breaks away and marches up to the Princess.
She’s standing before that eerie bone plinth.
Just approaching it makes me feel sick.
But not as sick as Castor’s words have left me.
My stomach churns. What secrets? Is he talking about more than Garl’s cheered history?
What does Castor know?
I want to ask him directly. Throw all caution to the wind, and just stride forward, look the man in the eye, and demand he tell me what he’s up to.
If Yin were here, she would do it. She doesn’t hold back for anything or anyone.
Just thinking about her centers me, because it reminds me of how balanced I felt after the dance.
Or at least that’s the reason I give myself.
The two record keepers disappear and eventually return with a scroll.
I… can’t take my eyes off it.
It’s compelling. Mesmerizing. Completely absorbing. I feel as if I’m being inexorably drawn toward it. Like an asteroid hurtling toward the Earth, knowing it’s about to crash, but incapable of pulling back.
Still, despite the power it has over me, I manage to yank my gaze off it once to stare at Castor.
He looks… terrified.
I have never seen that man look anything but confident.
“Princess, this scroll will tell you the trials you must complete to unlock the powers you require to save the world,” one of the record keepers says as he bows his head low and places the scroll on the plinth.
I watch Mara turn around and make eye contact with us all. Though she looks a little fearful, she doesn’t seem to be affected by the scroll in the same way I am, and her fear isn’t a measure on the bone cold terror Castor is showing.
Does he know something we don’t?
Is this scroll dangerous?
Before I can ask, Mara unfurls it.
It’s longer than the previous scroll, and as she opens it, one side tumbles off the plinth, the end of the roll banging against the bone.
That noise makes me shudder.
It feels as if someone is hammering on my own bones.
“There is… nothing here,” the Princess steps back, her wide eyes shimmering with surprise.
“Wait,” one of the record keepers says, their voice low and rumbling, echoing easily through the cavernous space.
I watch Mara lean forward.
Then I hear something drip. It’s practically silent, but something alerts me to it – a sudden rush of fear over my back and arms.
I take several jerking steps forward, and I notice the scroll is dripping with blood.
Fresh blood.
As the blood trickles over the hide, words appear. Glowing blue, they light up the underside of Mara’s face as she leans over them.
I watch her eyes draw wide in surprise as she starts to read.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” she says as she leans further forward.
I want to intervene. I want to grab a hand on her shoulder and pull her back. I want to close that scroll up so the blood will stop dripping.
Garl, however, gets there first. He walks confidently up to the Princess. “What does it say? What are you to do next?”
“I… don’t know. I’m having trouble reading the symbols, they keep shifting around,” she says as she goes to lay a hand on the scroll.
The blood doesn’t repulse her. She reaches out to touch it.
Castor somehow moves like the wind and reaches her in time to grab her wrist and pull her back.
The Princess, shock rippling over her face, looks at him.
“You mustn’t touch it,” he says through gritted teeth. Then, as I watch him close his eyes, it’s as if he gets a handle on himself. “Princess, you must be very careful around this scroll.”
“We are the keepers of scrolls,” the record keepers say at once.
Castor barely glances at them as he dismissively says, “and for now, I am the closest thing she has to a guardian. You will follow my heed. This is dangerous. Step back, and I will read it for you,” Castor says.
“You can read those symbols?” the Princess asks in awe.
Castor nods.
I watch him hesitate as if he has to draw up the strength before he can look at those symbols.
Blood is still dripping down the scroll, and nobody seems to care but me… and Castor.
“I have read it, now close it and take it away,” he says as he gestures to the record keepers. “It is… dangerous to have it open too long. It may attract the Night,” he says.
“Preposterous,” Garl begins.
Castor turns on him.
The look in his eyes is… like fire itself.
“You can’t feel it? Then, General, I suggest you take the knife out from the sheath at your hip, cut your hand, and place it on the ground. Leave it there for a few minutes, and you will feel the dark pressing in toward you.”
Garl holds Castor’s gaze, but can’t do so for long. Eventually, he steps back.
“What’s happening?” the Princess questions hesitantly.
“The Savior’s blood attracts the Night,” Castor says as he takes a steadying breath. Actually wincing, he closes the scroll himself. His hands shake as he does so.
As he rolls it up completely, he lets out a relieved breath.
Without realizing it, I let one out, too.
“That is a myth,” the record keepers say as one.
“I do not mean to be impolite, but until several weeks ago, you believed the legend of the Savior was a myth too. Trust me, I know what I’m speaking off. These scrolls must only be looked upon for a short amount of time and only when it is absolutely necessary. To do otherwise, will bring on the onset of the Night. It will shorten this age.”
I can see Garl wants to question Castor, but I can also see he doesn’t have the courage to do so.
Everybody looks at each other until the Princess breaks the silence, “what did it say? What am I to do?”
“You must complete a series of tasks.”
“What tasks?” Mara asks in a small voice.
“You must gather together the armor of light,” Castor says.
Silence meets his assertion.
The armor of light? It doesn’t exist. It can’t exist. It goes far beyond legend, into the realm of pure fiction. Armor made from the essence of magic itself. Not from metal, not from wood. But from the very spirit of every summonable force.
According to the myth, isn’t even Arak in origin – it comes from a time before that ancient race.
“What… how? It doesn’t exist. I’ve always been told it was a story,” the Princess stutters.
“It exists. It has to. Without it, the Savior will be unable to fight alongside the spirit of the earth. You must acquire every single piece before the final day of the age.”
“If I don’t?” the Princess asks.
Castor doesn’t even bother to answer. He just looks at her.
Eventually she shudders back, running a hand up and down her arm as if she’s suddenly cold.
I have been cold since I stepped into this room. Colder since the scroll was unraveled and the blood dripped on the floor.
Either I’m overreacting, or I can feel something she can’t.
She’s the Savior, so clearly, I am the one at fault.
Perhaps the fan dance unsettled me somehow.
.…
How could it?
It left me feeling stronger than I ever have before.
So why do I now seem terrified when nobody else does?
Nobody else but Castor.
Still, he’s holding himself together better as he stares at the Princess. “You must gather together every piece of the armor, and only when it is complete, can you complete your task.”
“
But where will we find it? Does the scroll contain instructions?” she points toward it.
“Not this scroll,” he says as he holds onto it protectively.
“So where do we find instructions?” the Princess presses her hands together, worry forcing her fingers tighter and tighter into her knuckles.
“We follow the legends, Princess,” Castor says as he bows.
Mara doesn’t say anything, she looks up at Castor pleadingly.
“We must travel to each of the five ancient temples. When we are there, we must uncover clues that will lead us to the piece of armor within. You, as the Savior, are the only person alive who will be able to retrieve the armor and complete this sacred quest,” Castor concludes.
Everybody is shocked by his words. Even the record keepers, who previously looked as if they couldn’t show emotion other than disdain, now look surprised.
“What? Did you think this would be easy?” Castor now asks quietly. “You are the Savior, the first Savior in an age. To fight this war, you will need to call upon the forces that are ageless. You must plumb the depths of your own courage and seek out the secrets others deny,” Castor says, briefly looking at me, “if you are to succeed.”
The Princess glances from Garl to the record keepers, back to Castor, then across to me.
It’s clear she is waiting for me to say something.
Should I tell Castor what he’s suggesting is impossible? That the armor of light could not possibly exist?
Or should I tell her to trust him?
Before I know what I’m doing, I nod. “We need to try,” I say, surprising myself.
I also clearly surprise Garl, as he twists on the spot and looks at me calculatingly.
I ignore that gaze.
I level my own at Castor.
This better not be some play, some ruse. If he’s manipulating the Princess, I will make him pay.
But if he isn’t… then I will follow.
The Princess closes her eyes, grasping her hands before her. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, she nods. “I will do as you say. Return the scroll to the sacred archives,” she gestures at the record keepers, “and please organize this… trip,” she says as she glances from Castor to Garl.
She takes a step backward, nods at everyone, and turns. She shoots me a rather desperate gaze.
I can see she’s confused and scared, but somehow pushing through it.
It’s just what she needs to do in her position, I tell myself.
She’s the perfect person for this, the only person for this.
The Savior of the ages.
In short order, we all exit the library, and Garl and Castor and the Princess return to one of the palace’s many meeting rooms to discuss their options.
Though I’m invited to join in, I quickly excuse myself on the premise of returning to the barracks to make preparations.
Soon enough I find myself powering down the steps of the Palace, and practically running through the streets of the city.
My mind is swamped by thoughts. The armor of light? Could it even exist?
There’s so much to organize.
But as I reach the barracks, I don’t begin to organize it. Even though I told Garl I was returning to do that, I find my feet taking me somewhere else.
It’s drawing on to dusk, and there’s a strange chill in the air.
I keep rubbing at my arms, but no matter what I do, I can’t chase back the cold.
Nor can I push back my nerves.
I run a little faster until I reach the right door.
Yin’s door.
I shouldn’t be seeing her. With the weight of the world on my shoulders and an epic journey to organize, I know where my priorities should lie.
That doesn’t stop me from knocking. It doesn’t stop me from sliding the bolt to the side and waiting for her to answer.
I want….
I don’t know what I want. Resolution. Understanding. I want to find out what happened during the fan dance. How I reconnected to my magic. I want to know how to do it again.
Castor is right. Though I feel closer to my Arak device and the essence of magic than I ever have, I also know there’s a long way to go.
That doesn’t dishearten me; it invigorates me.
I feel more alive than I ever have before.
So I wait for her to answer, my heart pounding in my throat. When she doesn’t, I figure she’s simply being obtuse as usual, and I push the door open.
There are no soldiers in the corridor, nobody guarding her, there’s no point anymore.
So there’s nobody to see my reaction as I push that door open.
She’s seated on the far side of the room, her back pressed against the wall, her legs pushed up, her head resting on her knees, her left arm covered in blood.
I lurch forward, skid to my knees, and reach her.
“What happened? What happened?” my words rush out, gut wrenching fear making them quick and little more than bursts of breath.
She looks up slowly, her cheeks streaked with tears, her eyes red from crying.
Maybe she can’t speak or she doesn’t want to tell me what happened, but with a hesitant, gentle touch, I try to pull her bloodied arm away from her knees.
She doesn’t resist.
I carefully pry back her sleeve, looking for the injury.
I turn her arm over and over, looking at her palm, her fingers, her Arak device even, but I find no sign of injury.
No injury.
Yet her arm is still bleeding.
“What happened?” I ask in a shaking whisper. “What’s happening to you?”
“I don’t know,” she shakes her head over and over again, more tears streaking out of her red, swollen eyes and trickling down her cheeks and chin. “But it hurts so much.”
I can’t ignore the emotion in her words.
Her arm is covered in blood with no sign of injury. Perhaps it would be easy to assume the blood isn’t hers, that somehow she covered her arm in it and tried to pretend she injured herself.
I can’t even consider that possibility.
As I try to dab away the blood on her palm using my sleeve, more comes up. It’s flowing from somewhere, I just don’t know where.
She’s shaking.
I’m shaking.
“What do I do?” I plead.
She just grits her teeth together and sobs.
If I weren’t a Royal Army sorcerer, maybe I would doubt her. Maybe I wouldn’t be able to feel how raw her emotions are. The fear, the pain. The overwhelming pain.
“I’ll get help,” I say as I shift back, intending to run to the infirmary.
“No,” she says as she grips a hand on my sleeve, holding me in place. “No,” she begs.
“It’s okay,” I say as I place a hand lightly on hers, “they’ll be able to help you.”
She shakes her head. “I don’t want him to know. Please.”
I don’t need to ask who he is.
Garl.
Though I self admittedly know a lot about the worlds of magic, there are still things I don’t know. Mysteries, whispered rumors. There are so many powers, so many kinds of Arak devices. The illusionists are a prime example of this – people who can make themselves invisible. Beyond those strange abilities, there are others I have only ever heard of. People who can manipulate light, some who can even warp space. And a rare unscrupulous few who can poison blood, torturing people with little more than a look.
.…
Could something like that have happened to Yin?
Could someone have attacked her?
Garl.
“Did he do this to you?” I ask, unable to hold my tongue. As I speak, my cheeks become so cold with fear, I know they’re whiter than powdered plaster.
She looks up, tears still streaking down her face, trickling along her chin and neck and soaking through her collar. “I don’t know,” she says. “It just happened. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop it,” she starts to sob ag
ain.
I have to do something.
Anything.
But the first thing I have to do is keep her confidence.
Standing up, I move toward the door, and I carefully close it behind me, glancing down the hallway as I do.
Hopefully, if somebody walks along, they won’t notice it’s still unbolted.
“We have to get you to a doctor,” I hiss at her as I walk over and lean by her side.
“Nobody can know,” she says as she stares at me with tear soaked eyes.
Reluctantly I nod my head. “We have to stop the bleeding, and I don’t know how to do that.”
“I think… it’s stopping itself. It’s not coming as quickly as it did before.”
I need to confirm that fact for myself. So I reach up to her bed and pull off a section of sheeting. Then I use it to clean her arm. She lets me do it, even though I know it’s causing her pain.
But sure enough, as I clean off the blood, using up most of the sheet as I do, I soon confirm that she’s hardly bleeding anymore. A few trickles here and there, somehow escaping her skin with no cuts. But that’s all.
Reaching back up to her bed, I grab one of her blankets and furl it around her shoulders. Then I go over to the small water basin kept in the corner of her room, and I clean her arm as best as I can, washing away as much blood from the floor beneath too.
Once that’s done, I force her to drink half of the bottle of water she keeps by her bed.
Then… I sit next to her and look at her.
I’m a mess. Understandably, so is she.
Eventually, she flops her head back onto the wall behind her and closes her eyes. “It’s stopped. I can feel it.”
I take a stuttering breath and nod. “Are you okay?”
It takes a long time for her to flop her head to the side and stare at me. She nods.
Then we just, look at each other. It’s a little like what happened this morning when she followed my moves at the beginning of the fan dance. Try as I might, I can’t look away.
And, though it sounds impossible, I feel as though I’m sharing her burden, sharing her pain. A dull throbbing picks up in my left arm, radiating out from my magic Arak device, accompanied by a terrifying scratching sensation.
Maybe it’s all in my head, maybe it isn’t.
“Would he do this?” she asks, searching my gaze.
I open my mouth to say no.
I can’t do that anymore.
I shrug my shoulders instead. “Maybe.”
I can see tears brimming in her eyes again. “He threatened me, but I didn’t think he could do… something like this.” She starts to cry again. Sobbing far more fitfully than she did before.
I react. Sitting alongside her, I loop my arm around her shoulders and rest her head against mine.
She doesn’t shift back. She just cries.
I let her.
The world could be looking for me at that moment, but nothing would make me leave her side.
Not the Princess, not my commanders, nothing.
Which is a strong sentiment considering barely a few weeks ago I thought Yin was one of the most unpleasant people had ever met. Yet as I’ve gotten to know her, things have changed. Since the fan dance this morning, everything has changed.
Because I have changed. For the first time in years, I’m letting myself feel. I’m not pushing away my emotions, ashamed of them.
I’m letting them tell me what’s right and what’s wrong.
This is wrong. What Garl has down to Yin is wrong.
“How is he doing it?” she asks.
“I don’t know,” I say in a husky voice. “But there are sorcerers that can… do things to people’s blood. Poison it, dry it up,” I say through a wince.
It’s as if the full horror of those facts suddenly strikes me. I’ve known them for so long, but I’ve never felt them before. They feel horrible.
I still don’t know if that’s what’s happening to Yin, but it seems like the most logical possibility.
Garl, or perhaps someone else, is punishing her. In the cruelest way possible.
Automatically, I find myself pulling her a little closer. Then I stare with a dead gaze across the room at the door.
Again, time stretches out. Minutes or hours could pass, but I have no way of telling.
Finally, however, she pulls away from me. She stands, and she runs her right hand down her left arm.
“I didn’t think of it before, but now you mention it, I didn’t even realize my hand was bleeding the first time until Garl pointed it out,” she suddenly says as she stares at the blood on her trousers.
I push my back into the wall and stand, feeling wobbly. Then I nod.
Suddenly she looks at me sharply. “You aren’t going to tell him, right?”
“Of course not,” I say disbelievingly.
“He’s your commander, isn’t he? I thought there was nothing more important to you than the Royal Army, your loyalty to the Kingdom,” she says, her voice croaky from all the tears she’s cried.
I go to tell her there isn’t, then I stop.
I’m not sure of anything anymore. No, I’m not sure of what is happening to me, but I am sure of what I’ll do. “I will not tell him,” I say, and I mean it, I really mean it. In fact, I’ve never meant anything more in my life.
I watch her as she searches my gaze. I know she’s skilled enough to tell when I’m trying to manipulate her. She is clearly looking for a lie in my eyes.
She doesn’t find one.
There isn’t one there.
I take a step forward, placing a hand on her right shoulder.
She stares at the floor, then up at my arm, then into my eyes. “What am I meant to do?”
“I… I’ve been investigating Garl,” I admit.
It’s a secret I’ve been holding for weeks. One I have told myself I will not share with anyone. Yet right now, I share it with her.
She looks confused. “What?”
“Castor… warned me about him. I didn’t want to believe it, but I… I’ve been investigating my commanding officer,” I say bitterly.
She doesn’t react how I think she will. In fact, maybe I’m not even sure how she should react. She shares my sorrowful gaze and nods. “It’s hard when your life changes before your eyes, and the things you once relied on disappear,” she acknowledges.
A tear collects in my eye and streaks down my cheek.
I know it’s going to happen before it does. I could stop it, but I don’t.
She looks at it. Then she sheds her own too.
“I’ve tried to do everything he told me to. I thought I’d been good,” she says.
“Maybe… someone saw us this morning,” I suggest. “Perhaps he returned to his office,” I wince as I think of the possibility.
“So he’s punishing me,” she realizes, then she closes her eyes. “That makes sense.”
“No, it doesn’t. He should be punishing me.”
We look at each other.
What more is there to do?
“We’ll find a way to stop him,” I assure her.
I have no reason to assure her; what I’m suggesting is impossible. Firstly, we’re not even sure it’s Garl behind this, and secondly, he’s a general of the Royal Army. I’m nothing but a captain.
But as I look at Yin, I know I have to to help her. Not just with my words, not just with my promises, but with actions.
“I don’t want you to get in trouble,” she suddenly says.
It makes me laugh. It’s not a prolonged laugh, nor is it particularly mirthful. It’s just… a laugh. “I’m pretty sure only this morning you said you still hate me.”
She looks bashful, closing her eyes. “I don’t hate you,” she says with her eyes still firmly closed.
A shiver crosses down my back, and I find myself gripping her shoulder tighter. “Thank you,” I say.
Perhaps it’s the wrong thing to say, but I can’t think of anything else.
“And thank you,” she says, her eyes still closed.
Silence descends between us. I have every reason to walk away from her now, to pull my hand from her shoulder and to leave.
Of course I can’t, though.
I remain by her side, as close to her as I can get.
Until she opens her eyes. “What now?”
As she says that, despite what she’s been through, I see that flicker of flame in her gaze.
Determination.
It’s just a spark now, but I know from experience it will grow. Like wildfire along a grassy plain, it will become bigger and bigger and bigger, growing into a raging inferno no man can stand before.
Though that prospect would have angered me before, now I smile. Because, despite what is happening to her, I realize she can fight back.
“I’ll take you away,” I suddenly say.
Surprise drops her jaw down. “What?”
“I’ll let you go,” I say with an unwavering voice.
“Yang?”
“Get you away from here. I’ll get you away from him.”
She shakes her head. “But this is your home. There’s nothing more important to you than the Kingdom. You’ve told me that. And what of Garl? Are you just going to let him get away with what he’s doing?”
I grit my teeth together. “I don’t know how to stop him,” I admit honestly.
She watches me, her chest punching out in deep breath after deep breath.
“In fact, I don’t even know what he’s doing. What he’s done. It is so complex. He’s too good at hiding his tracks,” I blurt out, suddenly all of the thoughts I’ve been holding back streaming forth. “But there’s one place I think I can finally uncover his secrets.”
“What do you mean?”
“There was a coastal village that was wiped out 20 years ago. They say it was in a tsunami, but I… don’t know if I believe that. I think Garl might have had something to do with it. I think this time if I go out there. I might find the evidence I need.”
She nods.
She doesn’t shake her head and tell me that’s crazy. She just nods. “Where is it?”
“A day away on horseback,” I estimate.
Then I look at her.
I wonder if I can go through with what I’m suggesting. Let her go? Take her out of the city? Go to the coastal village and check to see if the most respected man in the Kingdom is a mass murderer?
I have a duty. A sacred duty to the Princess. She has selected me as one of her guardians, and yet right now I’m turning my back on her.
I tell myself to stop. To think. To act like my father would want me to. In the best interests of the Kingdom.
The only problem is, right now, I don’t know what the best interests of the Kingdom are. I know what I’ve been told they are, but I can’t trust that.
“Yang, are you sure?” Yin whispers.
I have to be sure. I can’t tell her and change my mind.
Can I abandon the Princess? Can I walk away from being her guardian?
.…
Was I ever her guardian? I don’t know anything about the legend of the Savior. And all I found myself doing in her presence was trying to figure out what the men around her were planning. From Castor to Garl, it seemed like they had far more power than I ever will hold.
They know more about the situation than I do.
And what kind of guardian does that make me?
Without any knowledge of my own, and with little power, what can I offer Mara?
Plus, if Garl truly did see me teaching Yin the fan dance, and decided to punish her like this, what will he do to me?
Even if I stay, I won’t be welcome. I’ll do nothing but look over my shoulder, waiting for Garl’s attack.
Closing my own eyes now, I nod.
“Yang, are you sure?” she whispers.
With my eyes still firmly closed, I nod.
Then I feel her light touch on my shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”
I place my hand on top of hers. “But I will. You told me I don’t understand my magic. Well, I don’t understand my life either. I trusted that man, trusted this kingdom. I purged myself of emotion, went through the training to become the best Royal Army sorcerer I thought I could be. All for them….” Finally, I open my eyes. “I need to know if it’s worth it.”
She is looking right at me.
It’s an expression I can’t quite qualify; it holds more than one emotion and more than one promise.
Swallowing hard, I nod again. “We are getting out of here,” I say.
I mean it.
I mean it.
I am going to abandon the Royal Army and take Yin with me.
There’ll be no going back.
As I decide that, it feels as though I’m standing there and staring into the center of fire, knowing all the while it can’t burn me.
“When?” she asks hesitantly.
“Now,” I say as I take a step back from her.
“Now?” she asks hurriedly, her surprise obvious.
“We can’t risk Garl doing this to you again. If I’m right, and he has found some devious sorcerer who can manipulate your blood, we have to get you as far away from here as soon as possible.”
“But… Castor,” she suddenly says, emotion making her eyes grow wide.
I don’t know what to say, so I say the only words that feel right, “isn’t here for you. But I am.”
Wow… did I just say that?
I did, and there’s no taking it back.
Yin places a hand flat on her chest and takes a deep breath. “You aren’t… going to turn on me are you?”
I stare directly at her. If I wanted to manipulate her, I would draw up my water magic, making my words seem as fluid and easy as possible. I don’t dare draw upon my magic now. Instead, I delve deep into my heart. “No. I can’t go back now. There’s nothing for me here anymore,” I conclude.
.…
There’s nothing for me here.
My whole life used to be here, and now, try as I might, I can’t find it in the regimes of the Royal Army or the traditions of the Royal Family.
My questions have taken me far off the path my father dictated for me, and though that should fill me with shame, it pushes me further forward.
In fact, I take several steps until I’m looking right down into her eyes. “I’m not going to betray you,” I say.
I mean it.
She nods. “Then… what are we waiting for?”
I actually smile. Only Yin can look excited in the face of such hardship.
“Nothing. Garl will be engaged at the palace well into the night. I will go and gather some supplies, secure a horse, and come for you,” as I talk, I latch a hand on her arm.
I’m not manipulating her.
She knows it.
She nods. “Captain Yang, thank you,” she manages.
“I’m not a captain anymore; I’m a traitor,” I say, trying the word on for size.
It makes me feel sick, but it also fills me up with energy.
I know this is the right thing to do.
Not turning from her, I take a step back. Then I go to reach for the door handle.
That’s when I hear the bolt being slid into place and a muffled, “who left that unlocked?”
.…
No.
God no.
If I call out and tell the soldier to jolly well unlock the door, he’s going to open it and see Yin is covered in blood. If I don’t… I’m trapped.
As I let the soldier walk away, it’s pretty clear I’m trapped.
I take a stumbling step backward.
“We can’t get out of here,” I conclude with a shake.
Yin doesn’t say anything.
I turn, expecting her to start sobbing again.
She doesn’t, she looks at me evenly.
“. . . Yin, we can’t get out. We’ve been locked in,” I clarify.
She presses her lips together. ??
?We can get out,” she admits hesitantly.
“What? We can’t. This room is embedded with magical enchantments that ensure we can’t summon magic. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but that door is thick steel. There’s no tool we can fashion to bust through it. It’s… over. They’ll find us in the morning and,” I shudder.
“Yang, we can get out,” she says.
“Yin, you don’t understand,” I say desperately.
She unfurls her hand, letting her fingers drop gracefully as flame springs up over them.
Vibrant, flickering, hot flame.
I stare at her in disbelief.
She looks a little sheepish as she hooks her hair over her ear. “Ever since I was locked in here, I’ve been able to conjure a little magic. But ever since… this morning,” she says uncomfortably, “after… the fan dance,” she clarifies with a weak voice, “I’ve been able to summon just fine.”
I bring my own hand up, trying to send a jet of water over my palm. I can’t. I can feel it there, trying to come out, but I can’t force it through.
I can’t stop staring at her in disbelief.
She can’t stop looking back sheepishly. “I’ve been practicing, in case I have to escape. So it comes quite handy now, doesn’t it?”
I press my lips together and nod my head. “How can you do magic in here?”
With wide eyes, she stares at her hand then up to me. “I don’t know.”
I accept her answer. Then I stand back. “We have to be careful. I know you probably want to send that door ricocheting into the wall,” I say as I point my thumb at the solid steel behind me, “but we have to be quiet. Careful,” I say, my lips moving wide.
I look at her as if we are engaged in training once again. I need her to understand what I’m saying.
She nods. “I can probably just try to melt the lock,” she says as she cranes her neck toward the door, “or at least the place where it meets the wall.”
I nod. At the same time, I feel afraid and excited and amazed.
She can do magic in a room surrounded by enchantments.
. . .
I don’t even know how that’s possible. But now is not the time to find out.
And… maybe it doesn’t surprise me as much as it should. Maybe from the very moment she was placed in this room I half wondered whether she would find a way to get out. It’s the same feeling I got when I put her to sleep with that spell. I was expecting her to wake up, I was just waiting for it.
“Okay, do we need to take anything?” She looks around her room. “Not that I have much to take.”
“We need to be light so we can be quick,” I say. “I will get money, and I will get the bare necessities. I know enough to live off the land. You probably do too. You were a herbalist, right?”
She nods. “Though I’m mostly familiar with mountain herbs, Castor did make me read books about the rest.”
“Okay,” I manage, feeling amazed that I’m actually about to do this.
“Are you ready?” she asks me through a swallow.
“Yes.” I close my eyes and wait.
She shifts toward the door carefully, waiting, clearly listening out to ensure no soldiers are walking by.
I start to smell smoke.
The truly acrid, powerful smell of metal burning.
It takes barely half a minute, then I hear a creak and a groan. “I’ve done it,” she says quietly.
I open my eyes to see her pull the door forward.
Then the adrenaline kicks in. The fear, the terror at what I have to do now.
We must escape the Royal Barracks in secret.
I walk forward. I pause in the doorway, right by her side, and I look at her.
We nod. We walk out.
As we do, I know nothing will be the same again.