A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (26 page)

Something heavy slammed into the base of
Rhen's skull. Pain exploded down his neck, his head whipped
forward, and all breath was stolen from his body.

He could not move.

His limbs would not respond as throbbing
prickles continued to stupefy his nerves. Useless.

The hands gripping his arms tightened,
walked forward slowly, and dragged him behind.

And all Rhen could think was,
Just like
the others
.

Captain Pygott was dead. The ship was
compromised. The crew…

Jin.

Poor boy, forced to live just to die.

Black spots closed in on Rhen, color drained
from his eyes, and the world melted away until everything was
gone.

Everything except the pounding of his
heart.

Captain, Jin, I'm sorry
.

And then all thought ceased to exist.

11

Jinji

~ Da'astiku ~

Consciousness came slowly.

In her head, Jinji was still flying, still
soaring over trees and grass. Images flashed behind her pupils.
Memories flickering and fading. Faces. Words. Places she wasn't
sure she wanted to remember or forget.

Her eyes slid open, then shut tight against
the sun.

But one flash was enough.

Her mind opened, and everything she had seen
for the past few hours tumbled back down into the unknown,
cascading out of her thoughts, locked away once more.

In their place, a daze.

Total confusion.

Where am I? What happened?

Jinji sat up, hand holding her aching head
as her stomach growled for attention. Her vision gradually came
into focus.

A bed. Wooden slabs. A small circular
window. Maps. A hammock below her. Blankets around her.

The ship. Rhen's ship.

How much time had passed, she wondered,
looking around the room for some sign. She remembered talking with
the Ourthuri, remembered touching Rhen's hand—she could still feel
the fire that had burst under her skin, awakening the spirits.

But everything else had vanished.

The door behind her slammed open, jolting
her muscles to life.

Jinji's mind pricked at the sound of heavy
breathing. The echo of clashing swords rang in her ears. The thud
of boots was suddenly louder than it had been a moment ago.

"Jin, you must run." Someone panted.

She spun.

Captain Pygott stood with blood falling down
his cheek—his blue eyes glowing from pain and fear. Jinji knew whom
the fear was for.

They must have arrived at the Ourthuri city.
Rhen must have gone to the king.

The captain gasped, stepping forward, and
held her chin in a viselike grip.

"Who are you?" He questioned.

Instantly Jinji understood. She felt for the
spirits, felt for their now familiar presence around her face, but
nothing was there.

The illusion had fallen.

She was a girl once more.

"I…" She opened, but no words came out.
"This is my true face." She said simply. What else could she
say?

"A woman?" He stepped back, mouth hanging
agape.

Quickly, Jinji called to the spirits,
wrapping the knots around her features once more, hiding herself
back behind the mask of her long gone brother's face.

"Just as easily a boy," she said
quietly.

Shouts reverberated down the steps. More
voices seeped below decks.

Captain Pygott shook his head. "There is no
time. You must run, Jin. Rhen is inside the city, in the golden
palace, you must find him and you must save him. Before any of the
Ourthuri knows you are here."

"But how? What happened?"

The captain put a finger over her lips,
nodding slightly, sadly. A crash sounded above him, the crack of
wood splintering.

"They are about to find us, you must go
before they do. I don't know what happened, why the Ourthuri are
attacking, but I know the prince is in danger. Please, on my life,
you must help him."

Jinji bit her lips, eyes narrowing to hold
in the water about to leak. She nodded, subtle but enough. Yes, she
would try her best to save Rhen, to save her friend. She owed him
that much for everything he had done for her.

Captain Pygott reached behind him, closing
the wooden door at his back, latching it shut.

"It won't hold for long. To the window."

They moved as one, opening the thick glass
until the wind whipped Jinji's short hairs. She stuck her head out,
noting the ocean a long way below her body.

She would have to jump.

Panic stabbed her heart. Her fingers
twitched.

The captain reached out, holding them.

"Can I see your face one more time?" He
asked, softly. She could not deny the plea of a dying man. For she
knew in her heart that this was his last stand, his goodbye to the
world.

Pulling the spirit threads, Jinji let the
illusion fall. His eyes widened once more, running over the
contours of her cheeks, her plump lips, her curvier nose, her
feline eyes.

Reaching up, he cupped her cheek,
sighing.

"What a story this will make," he said.

Then
boom
.

Something heavy thudded into the doors
behind them. The wood splintered but did not break.

No need for words, the captain cupped his
hands. Jinji stepped into his palms, taking once last look into his
deep blue eyes—swirling with the stories he would never get the
chance to tell.

Another
boom
.

And Jinji was gone. Captain Pygott stood,
thrusting her body through the window, and Jinji flew, just like in
her dreams, until she hit the water with a smack that stung her
skin.

A scream caught in her throat, stifled by
the sea.

A prick stabbed her heart, and she knew he
was gone.

But there was a chance Rhen still lived.

Pushing her feet, Jinji broke to the
surface, taking a deep gulp of air before melting back into the
waves.

Hiding.

Looking for a place to run.

A dark shadow caught her eye through the
blue—immobile—and she swam, praying for the cover of wood. Another
ship or the dock, anything to keep her out of sight from the
attacking Ourthuri above her.

Breaking the surface of the water, Jinji
looked up into rows and rows of metal slabs. She was under the
dock, the waves rocking her. She dipped under the water again. It
was calmer. Safer.

Her eyes stung from the salt, but she forced
them open, following the shadow of the dock until the ground closed
in on her and rocks filled her vision. Every time she tried to
surface, a new wave rolled in, pulling her to the side and
underwater. Finally, feeling the strength in her limbs start to
fade, Jinji swam to one of the columns and hugged her body close to
it, inching higher and higher until her grip was strong enough to
fight the waves.

Above the roar of the ocean, she made out
voices, but they were foreign words that meant nothing to her.
Through the slits in the dock, she saw boots moving this way and
that way, coming from nowhere and disappearing just as quickly.

How would she get away unnoticed? Surely,
even in a scene as crazy as this, the men who invaded the ship
would be wary of a stranger emerging from the ocean.

And then, farther to the side, Jinji saw a
sight that made her eyes bulge from her head, practically popping
free of her skull. The ground, as if by magic, lifted from the sea,
swinging and swaying, rising higher and higher into the air. The
movement was slow, methodological. Chains, she suddenly realized,
spotting the coils attached to the four corners of the platform.
Chains were lifting the land.

Hidden by the dock, the platform lifted out
of view, but it didn’t matter. Behind it, Jinji saw another mound
of boxes piled high. It was another platform, waiting to fly.

Suddenly, she had a plan.

Crazy? Yes.

But also her only hope.

Jinji dove back under the water, pulling the
elements around her body so it looked blue, just like the ocean.
She was a ghost under the surface of the sea, an invisible outline
that only the spirits could spot.

And she swam.

And swam.

Pumping her legs, pushing her arms to the
side, repeating the motion and fighting the current. Every so
often, she popped her head above the water for a mere moment,
locating the boxes and moving forward again.

When she was close, Jinji stopped and
surveyed the scene. No one had spotted her, hidden as she was in
her illusion. Men took turns holding one box, passing it on,
placing it on the platform. A long line of constantly moving parts,
until one leader positioned at the very front of the platform
shouted something. He wore different clothes—a long cloth draped
from his shoulders to the floor, the color of the glowing moon.

Jinji didn’t understand what he said, but
all of the other men stopped and stepped backward. The leader was
lifting a large red flag above his head, looking up, and she
realized it was a signal.

Pushing forward, Jinji swam around to the
back of the platform and placed her palms on the cold metal. No one
on land could see her. Looking behind, she realized she was in full
view of some ships.

But there was no other option.

Heaving herself out of the water, Jinji
landed with a thud on the platform. In one swift move, she was on
her side, curled into a ball with the illusion of a box woven
around her, hiding the fact that she was human to any wandering
eye.

She waited, breathing heavily.

One.

Two.

Three.

No alarm sounded.

Instead, the earth below her shifted, and
suddenly she was flying.

The ground below her swayed, pushed and
pulled by the wind, but she felt more and more secure the higher
she climbed, knowing every inch brought her closer to Rhen and
farther from the soldiers below.

Keeping her eyes closed, Jinji practiced
breathing, praying to the spirits to keep her safe, to help her
find Rhen, to get them both out of there alive. Somehow, she knew
she could do it. The spirits would not abandon her, not after
pushing her so far into the unknown. It was just another test.
Another stop on her journey.

The platform screeched to a stop.

Metal clashed against metal.

Jinji opened her eyes, finding that the sun
had disappeared and her nose rested inches from a solid wall.

Her muscles tensed, alert. Feet thudded
behind her, and she heard voices. Somehow, during the climb, she
had neglected to realize that getting onto the platform was only
half the battle.

Getting off unseen would be impossible.

Getting off unnoticed, unsuspected, might be
just within limits.

Thinking quickly, she pictured the only
Ourthuri man she had ever really come into contact with—the man on
the ship, with burns along his wrists and a haunt to his eyes. She
pictured his face, his tall lean build, his olive complexion.
Dancing with her, the spirits coiled together, binding to her
skin.

The men at the docks who had been piling
boxes onto the platform had been like him, unmarked and burned. She
prayed that those tasked with removing the items would be the
same.

Copying their garb, Jinji pictured
Mikzahooq, the Ourthuri who had been so kind to her, and silently
thanked him for letting her borrow his face.

Opening her eyes, Jinji brought her hand
before her, sighing with relief at the sight of callused fingers.
The skin around her wrists bubbled an ugly red, mixed with flecks
of black ink that could not be completely washed away. Letting her
eyes travel farther down, Jinji saw her chest was bare with hard
and flat muscles. Cloth was tied around her waist, and she didn't
care to look any farther.

Taking a deep breath, Jinji crouched on all
fours before gripping one of the boxes closest to her and standing
fully erect.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, and
when they did, she fought to hide a smile.

Her gamble had worked.

Men circled the platform, dressed like her
and unmarked like she currently was. Their eyes carried the same
haunted glaze that Mikzahooq's had. They didn’t make eye contact
with each other or with anything, like their souls had been erased
along with their tattoos.

Gripping the box tightly, Jinji tried to
blank her stare as she followed another man off the platform and
into an open room. Guards dressed in flowing golden robes held
swords before their eyes, but none of them looked twice at her. So
Jinji continued following the line of unmarked men as they silently
trekked across the room and into a sunlit corridor.

She couldn't help but peek from underneath
hooded brows at the shimmering gold all around her.