The Shadow Soul (A Dance of Dragons) Page 15

  "He was kind? Mikza?" She asked, voice wavering and warming as she said the name. The man had meant something to her, Jinji realized. They had been close.

  "Yes." Jinji nodded. "He told me about these islands, so foreign from my own home, and comforted me. We were trying to help him, to bring him back to his family, but…"

  The girl took an unsteady breath. "But what?"

  Jinji shrugged, not sure how much to say. "I do not believe he was very excited to return. I sensed that there was something here he missed, something that had been ripped from his side, leaving a gaping wound in his heart. But there was something he feared as well—or someone, maybe."

  The girl's expression hardened. Her lips pushed into a flat line and her pupils dilated. She wiped the tears from her cheeks, standing straighter and squaring her shoulders.

  "I know who he feared. It is the same man we all fear, but cannot escape."

  "Who?"

  The girl looked up, met Jinji's eyes.

  "King Razzaq…my father," she said, ice cold, and picked her knife up off the ground. "I will help you save your prince, but only if you can promise me one thing."

  "What?" Jinji asked, relaxing, letting a little ray of hope leak into her senses. Perhaps all wasn't lost. Had the spirits saved her once again?

  "Protection," the girl said quietly, and lifted her hand to remove the crown covering her features. Her umber eyes were large, unusual, and beautiful against her pale, brown skin with the slightest leafy hue. Her lids were painted golden, but even that brightness couldn't hide the heartbreak shadowing her young face.

  They were the same age. And Jinji felt an instant connection with this girl, another person not ready for the pain the world had thrown at her.

  "I cannot stay here with that man anymore. No matter what it takes, I am finding a way out, and when I do, I will need protection and a safe place to live where he cannot touch me. If your prince can help hide me, then I will help save his life."

  "My prince has a special liking for saving people," Jinji said, unable to cover the smile that spread across her face. "He will help you. I swear it."

  "Then use your magic to change your clothes to match mine and follow me."

  The girl spun without looking back and walked to the door, opening it and jumping into the hall.

  Quickly, Jinji closed her eyes, picturing the spirits as they wove around her. In her mind, she imagined wearing a dress of golden silks that hung from one side, leaving her shoulders almost bare. She pictured black tattoos sprouting on her arms, the image of flowers and curving swirls. And finally, she saw a golden belt cinching her waist and a golden headdress cascading over her face.

  When her eyes opened, Jinji instantly knew the spirits had listened as metal hung before her, partially blocking her vision.

  Without wasting any more time, she followed the Ourthuri princess into the hall, praying that her instincts to trust this girl were right.

  They moved swiftly through the palace. Jinji, always the shorter one, struggled to keep up until the princess stopped, throwing an arm to the side, and catching Jinji around the waist to keep her from moving.

  She put a finger in front of her lips, signaling silence, and stepped slowly around two wide columns, until a giant pool of water came into view, a brilliant turquoise nestled in gold. At the far end, Jinji saw Rhen crumpled on the floor—unconscious and surrounded by men holding swords.

  Her throat dried. She couldn't swallow. Couldn't breathe. Her chest contracted.

  Then Rhen shifted, his arm twitched.

  Jinji relaxed—he was alive. It was the only sign she needed to press forward. The princess tugged Jinji back until the two of them were hidden behind a wide column.

  "They are going to drown him," the princess whispered, "to make it look like an accident, as though he died in a shipwreck."

  "How can we save him?"

  The princess smirked underneath her veil, raising one eyebrow. "I create a scene, something my king will love, and while I do, you grab the body. Can you only change your image or can you mask other things as well?"

  Jinji paused. She had never talked so openly about her gift, her connection to the spirits. It felt odd. Yet at the same time liberating. "I can mask other things as well," she said, matching the princess's grin.

  "Then do it, and meet me back here."

  The princess stepped out from their hiding spot and walked confidently forward. Soon enough, Jinji heard raised voices, a commotion, and she stepped from the column. The guards were talking with the princess, looking away from her and away from Rhen.

  Lifting her hands before her, Jinji prayed to the spirits. Her emotions warmed when the mother spirit, jinjiajanu, jumped into her vision, encircling her in what felt like a loving hug.

  Instantly, the elements heeded her call, weaving together in an invisible wall along the edge of the pool, enveloping Rhen in the scene so he was on the side with Jinji, hidden from the rest of the world. Any guard that looked over would see Rhen immobile beside the pool—the scene would remain unchanged as long as they kept their distance. But in reality, Jinji had just crafted an illusion of the hall.

  Holding her breath, she ran forward, not wasting time.

  The illusion worked.

  Not one of the guards sounded an alarm. No one saw her. No one realized she was currently cradling Rhen's head in her lap, brushing the hairs from his forehead, wincing at the cut that dug deep into his skin.

  He didn’t stir. But it was better that way.

  He could never see her like this. Could never see her for what she truly was—a girl.

  To Rhen, she would always be Jin. But staring at his closed eyes, Jinji couldn’t help but wish for an instant that they would open and uncover her secret.

  A shout sounded behind her.

  Jinji's head whipped around.

  More guards were coming. Whatever time she had was gone.

  Standing, Jinji pulled on Rhen's hands, hoping she wasn't causing any more pain as she dragged his body across the cold, hard floor.

  Her arms ached. Her shoulders felt as though they would detach from her body at any second. Every muscle burned, screaming at her in protest.

  Rhen was heavy. Really, really heavy.

  And all Jinji could do was keep pulling, hoping that they got out of sight in time.

  12

  RHEN

  ~ DA'ASTIKU ~

  A goddess.

  Every time Rhen closed his eyes, he saw her. A vision in gold. His head was nestled in her lap and she looked down over him, hidden behind a veil of shimmering metal, but there was affection in that gaze. Rhen could still feel her fingers brush over his cheeks, push his hair to the side, run over his lower lip. His skin tingled, alive at the touch.

  In the dream, she leaned down, pressing a long, soft kiss to his lips.

  Then his eyes opened and he was back here, shoved in a crate underneath some sort of moving contraption, unsure of where he was or who was holding him there.

  But something was certain: King Razzaq had not killed him, despite the ringing pain in his head that said otherwise.

  Rhen sighed, trying to shift his sore muscles, but his wide body was cramped in the small space. There was nothing to do but wait.

  He closed his eyes again, welcoming the vision of the nameless woman. Who was she? Was she even real?

  The bouncing stopped.

  Rhen's eyes tore open, flicking through the darkness. He balled his hands into fists, trying to reach for his sword but he could not access his hip—he couldn't even tell if his weapon was still there.

  Rhen took a deep breath, darting his vision in circles, waiting for the crack of daylight. His body tensed, all muscles contracting in preparation to strike.

  Suddenly, he was drenched in whiteness. The sun enveloped his gaze, blinding him.

  Rhen blinked rapidly, waiting for hands to grab him.

  A black silhouette haunted his vision, slowly coming into focus.

 
; "You're awake," a voice said—a somewhat high-pitched voice that Rhen recognized.

  "Jin!" A goofy smile wrapped around his face as the boy's features filtered into view—the short hair, the small grin. He still wore Rhen's clothes, far too loose and far too Whylkin for this city.

  Rhen sat up. "How…what…?"

  Jin lightly tapped his arm.

  "I will explain in a moment," he said and offered his hand. Rhen ignored it, standing slowly on his own.

  When his feet touched land, Rhen realized they stood in an alleyway, a metal enclosure open to the sky. Everything was gray, dull—not at all like the golden palace.

  He spun. Behind him was a small box strapped to the back of a golden carriage—a royal carriage. Rhen stepped to the side, just in time to view a head covered in gold, hidden behind a draped veil.

  He gasped—breath stopping—and stepped closer.

  But the woman wasn't looking at him—she was looking past him at Jin.

  "Good luck," she said, her voice soft and full of emotion. And then she leaned back, hidden behind a heavy curtain. Two knocks and the cart started rolling away.

  Rhen fought the urge to chase after her, stuck in his spot by one thought—she was Ourthuri. And by the look of it, royal.

  His mother would kill him if he fell for a foreigner.

  Would kill him.

  His eyes closed and the vision returned. Heat flooded his veins at the sight of her, almost as though his body remembered something his brain did not.

  Rhen shook his head.

  Another time. When he could process the information. When there weren't a million other questions filtering through his mind.

  "Jin," he said, awed, "how in the world?"

  "It is a long story." The boy sighed and handed Rhen a plain brown robe, keeping one for himself. "Put this on."

  In a daze, Rhen nodded and pulled the garment over his head. His hip was weaponless, he realized, disheartened.

  Jin pulled a second robe over his head—it pooled on the ground by his feet, far too long for the small boy.

  "In short, I managed to escape the ship, break into the palace, and convince a princess to help smuggle you from the castle." The boy took a deep breath, as if he couldn't even believe his words. "Oh, and in return I promised her safe haven when she runs away from her father."

  Rhen choked.

  "And the long version?"

  Jin shook his head. "We must find a place to hide. Do you know anyone in the city? The princess said she could take us no farther than the lower districts."

  "What was her name?" Rhen asked, still lagging behind Jin's words.

  The boy's eyes narrowed and his head titled slightly to the side. "Leenaka…" He said slowly.

  Leenaka.

  Odd. Foreign.

  He let the sound roll over his tongue.

  Lee. Naka.

  Leenaka.

  He could get used to that. Now he just needed to see the face hidden behind the veil.

  "Rhen?"

  "Yes?" He said, jerking up. Then he remembered. "Wait, when she runs away?"

  "Rhen, the king will soon be looking for you. He wants to kill you. We must find a place to hide. Now."

  Rhen looked around, pushing his distracting thoughts to the side. They were hidden in this alley for now, but the boy was right—more than he realized maybe. Rhen lifted his hand, running his fingers over the ridges of the cut on his forehead. King Razzaq wanted him dead—but now he needed him dead, needed to stop this story from making its way to King Whylfrick.

  The robes would help, but even still, Rhen would be noticeable. Jin's darkened skin and black hair hid him a little. But Rhen, with his reddish white skin and cherry-auburn hair, would stand out from the crowd.

  Sons of Whyl weren't made to blend in.

  "Come on." He motioned for Jin to follow. "I know just the place." And surprisingly it's not a brothel, Rhen thought, proud of himself.

  It was a ship. One had luckily been sitting in the harbor earlier that day. And Rhen prayed it was still there.

  He walked closer to the busy street, checking once to make sure Jin was ready before stepping into the crowd. Carts rolled, pulled by neighing horses or the owners themselves. People walked. Children ran. Merchants shouted.

  Rhen looked around, trying to spot a marker and catch his bearings in this strange city. When he looked left, his gaze traveled up an incline. When he looked right, it slanted down.

  Right, Rhen decided and stepped forward. Down meant farther from the palace and from the king. Down meant closer to the docks and to freedom.

  An instant after they started moving with the crowd, bells sounded from above. At first, it was just a dull twinkling, distant and musical. But with every passing step, the sound grew, almost as if the notes were raining down from the palace, pelting Rhen in the head the farther he ran. By the time they reached a bend in the street, the ringing had grown to a furious roar—menacing and omnipresent. There was nowhere to hide, to escape.

  Spotting a street vendor, Rhen pulled Jin to the side and casually grabbed two scarves from the cart when the man was busy and not looking. The material was coarse and scratchy, but it would do.

  When they disappeared from eyesight, Rhen lifted the rectangle over his head, draping it like a hood down over his forehead.

  "Jin," he whispered, looking over his shoulder, "put this on."

  The boy took the cloth and copied Rhen's style, but still, the two of them were being stared at. The hood hid a little bit of Rhen's skin and hair, but it could not cover everything—especially his size, which was almost double that of the men around him. But more so than anything, people stared at their covered arms, hidden beneath the robes. No visible tattoos. A sure sign that they were not from the Golden Isles.

  They needed to get to the docks and fast.

  Reaching back, Rhen tugged on Jin's robe, urging him to move faster.

  An iron bridge slipped into sight on the horizon, leading down to another plateau of the multilevel city. Guards in deep conversation blocked either side. In the archway, a bell shook back and forth, joining in the cacophony.

  And suddenly Rhen realized what it was—an alarm. The city was being locked down, which could only mean one thing—the king had just learned of Rhen's escape.

  Letting his thoughts wander for a minute, Rhen prayed for the mysterious princess's safety. But—he glanced at the soldiers as they weaved into the busy streets with weapons held high—his own safety was clearly the more pressing issue.

  The bridge was close.

  But a gate was being cranked across it, sealing the opening shut.

  How would they make it through unnoticed?

  A commotion filtered into Rhen's ears—shouting and yelling. He shifted his gaze to the left, smiling when he saw a man sitting atop a wagon. A man who was fighting with two Ourthuri soldiers and gaining more attention by the minute.

  He couldn’t understand much over the din of the crowd, but it sounded like the man was a merchant trying to return to his ship with the goods.

  Which meant one thing—the next platform had to lead to the docks.

  Reaching out his arm, Rhen halted and stopped Jin behind him. He shifted to the right edge of the street, across from the fight about to break out, and kept creeping slowly closer to the bridge.

  More soldiers stopped patrolling, instead turning to the noise of the argument. A few walked out of the guardhouse beside the bridge, joining their comrades against the sailor. The rest of them moved past Rhen, who was bending his knees to shorten his stature.

  When he was a hand's length away from the now half-closed and abandoned gate, he stopped.

  It was a miracle.

  The gods were smiling on him today.

  All of the guards had left their station, distracted by the sailor, who now waved a dinged weapon in the air. All of the townspeople watched, hunger for justice in their eyes. The guards stood in a straight line, trying to intimidate even though their numb
ers were few.

  They were one breath away from a riot.

  "On my count," Rhen muttered, and Jin nodded in understanding.

  Rhen held out one finger.

  Two fingers.

  And then he moved, holding his breath as his foot stepped across the entrance of the bridge.

  No shouts.

  No clanking swords.

  No arrows.

  He looked down. The metal below his feet was a marvel. Sturdy and unlike anything he had seen before. Bridges were supposed to be made of stone, and even then surpassing a deep river was near impossible. But—he eyed the edge and looked down to the ocean deep below his feet, nestled between the rocks—this seemed held up by magic.

  Rhen glanced at Jin, comforted by the boy's wide, staring eyes. He was not the only one impressed by the scene.

  Farther over his shoulder, the sailor was sitting back down. The crowd started to disperse.

  "Run!" Rhen gasped as a guard started to spin.

  The two of them took off, not waiting to see if they were being followed.

  Their feet touched on solid rock once more, and Rhen shoved people to the side as he made his way through the winding roads, down and down, praying that the streets would soon level.

  Through a boxy building, he saw the sparkle of blue.

  "We're almost there," he shouted back, too excited to contain his enthusiasm. One more wide bend, and the ocean burst fully into view. The deep sapphire sent a wave of warmth into Rhen's chest that crashed against his heart, exploding down his limbs in a giddy burst. He felt like a child running from the castle guards, hiding from his father. It was a game.

  A game he had won.

  Pure adrenaline kept his legs pumping.

  The cloth fell from his head, slipping over his ears and free from his throat. But it didn’t matter. The docks were alive with men of Whylkin and Ourthuro—skin of every shade mingled and mixed, making Rhen and Jin just two more in a crowd of foreigners visiting the capital city.

  A laugh escaped his lips—freedom spilling through his system like a drug.

  But he wasn't safe yet.