A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (36 page)

But it was.

For the past week, Jinji had believed that
leaving Rhen with his family would be natural, would be a gift.
After all, he loved them enough to risk his life seeking their
protection, to devote his entire being to keeping them safe. He
spoke the world of his brothers. He yearned to spend time with his
nephew. This was his home, and he belonged here.

But yesterday, Jinji realized nothing could
be further from the truth. Even now, she shuddered, her body
convulsing at the memory of Rhen's father choking him until he
turned red. Of his brothers watching and not taking a single step
forward. Of his mother rushing forward out of concern for the king,
not her son.

None of that was natural. Or loving. Or
caring. And it left a sick feeling in her stomach to think of
abandoning Rhen to these people who he loved with his entire being
despite their negligence.

She thought of her father kissing her
goodnight—a soft brush on the forehead when he believed she was
asleep. Or her mother spending painstaking hours working on the
dress for her joining. And even Janu, defending her to his last
breath.

That was family.

That was her family, the one she promised to
avenge, not to let die in vain.

Her family—the very reason she had to
leave.

Jinji hugged her knees to her chest,
groaning as her argument came full circle for what seemed like the
hundredth time that night.

But the night was over, and it was time to
choose. The sun crept ever higher, burning the sky blue, and if she
didn’t leave now, Jinji wasn't sure she would ever be able to.

Closing her eyes tight, her heart wincing,
Jinji quickly stood and grabbed her boots.

There was no choice. The shadow was her
destiny—she had no option but to defeat it. Her soul would never
feel peace until it was gone, unable to take another human life or
break another human heart.

Before she could question herself yet again,
Jinji opened the door.

Then stopped dead.

Rhen stood before her, hand poised to knock,
a look of surprise coloring his features. His eyes were dark with
drowsiness, but his skin was clean and polished, better than she
had ever seen it. His hair had been neatly cut and his face
perfectly shaved. His clothes glittered with jewels.

For the first time, Rhen really looked like
a prince to her. Out of reach.

"Going somewhere?" He smirked, crossing his
arms to lean against the doorway. Caught in the act, Jinji stood
dumbstruck, unsure of what to say. "In truth," Rhen continued,
completely oblivious, "I wish I could go exploring with you, but
the ceremony is about to begin and I cannot be late, well, later
than I already am."

Jinji smiled weakly. But her tongue was
still stuck, unable to speak. A pinch suffocated her heart at the
sight of him so unaware.

Rhen waited for her to speak, then shrugged.
"Anyway, I was out half the night searching for anything that
seemed out of the ordinary, but I found nothing. No mention of the
Ourthuri and no mention of a shadow. I thought you would want to
know."

"I do, thank you," Jinji said softly, her
chin tucked into her neck.

He raised his brows, noticing something was
off. But just as Rhen opened his mouth, a horn sounded down the
halls. Face scrunching in annoyance, he cursed.

"I have to go."

"I know," Jin said, holding back the goodbye
trying to force its way out.

"I'll see you afterward, tonight. I know of
a tavern you'll love. It's no Staggering Vixen, but…" He trailed
off with a wink.

"Go," Jinji pushed him, unsure if the catch
in her throat was a cry or a laugh. Either way, it didn't
matter.

Without looking back, Rhen turned down the
hall. Jinji watched until he disappeared around the corner.

"Goodbye," she whispered, waiting a few more
heartbeats to catch her breath.

People appeared in the hall, moving in and
out of view, making their way toward the ceremony. Most spared a
quick, confused glance at Jinji. But she could barely see more than
the shimmer of their fine garb, the swish of a full skirt, or the
click of a solid boot.

She was too busy pushing thoughts of Rhen
from her mind; too busy replacing them with memories of her
family.

After one last deep breath, she stepped free
of the wall and made her way aimlessly down the corridor, searching
for some sign of an exit.

The castle seemed empty. White and
barren.

All she really had to do was follow the
silence, and eventually, after many turns and many steps, Jinji
came to a door that opened onto a green courtyard.

Following a trodden dirt path, she was led
to an archway through the white wall into rows of endless
townhouses.

And that led to utter confusion.

Just like the castle, the streets were
barren. Jinji remembered Rhen mentioning that this second tier was
the noble quarters—nobles who were no doubt at the ceremony. But
unlike the castle, the silence didn't help.

Rhen had said this city was a maze, and
Jinji believed him. After a few turns, she was completely lost.
Each stone house looked the same. Each street curved around the
next, removing any sense of direction. But there was no one around
to ask for help. More than once, she came upon a closed wall, a
dead end, and had to turn around.

Looking up, Jinji saw that the sun had
already neared the center of the sky, and she was no closer to
finding a way out. She had spent hours running through the streets,
in circles. It was almost as though the city didn’t want her to
leave.

Finally, she stopped, panting.

Her silken shirt stuck to her skin, her
pants felt tight for the first time and her feet ached.

Leaving was the right choice. It had to
be…

A sound clicked in Jinji's ears.

She looked up and the spirits entered her
vision.

It was sign. A sense of peace filtered into
her heart for the first time that morning.

Following the noise, her eyes focused on the
street corner to her right. At first, she didn't realize what the
tapping could be, but then a long brown snout came into view,
followed by a shaggy neck, and a harnessed torso, until the entire
horse and its cargo emerged.

An old woman held the reins, humming while
she urged the animal forward. A halo of green surrounded her
figure—earth spirits, woven like vines to her limbs.

Jinji stepped out of her shady spot, holding
her hands aloft.

"Please," she said, hope infused in her
tone, "please, I am lost and need help getting out of the
city."

"Whoa," the woman said, gently bringing the
cart to a stop, pulling up almost directly beside Jinji. The woman
looked her up and down, squinting and crinkling her nose. "Not in
trouble, are you?" A nasal voice asked, thickly accented.

"No." Jinji dropped her hands and shook her
head. "Just a lost traveler in need of assistance."

The woman leaned forward, sniffing the air.
"Alright, get in." She shifted in her seat, moving slightly so
Jinji could step up next to her on the bench.

The woman smelled of the earth, like dirt
and grass after a fresh rain.

"I can take you as far as the market, no
farther. I have to sell my vegetables, the ones the castle didn’t
want for their fine banquet, full of it they are."

"Thank you," Jinji mumbled, settling into
her seat, feeling uncomfortable under the woman's sharp gaze.

"You've got some nice clothes," she said,
touching Jinji's arm, leaving brown spots on her white shirt, "very
fine indeed."

Jinji shrugged, looking away, wondering what
the spirits were actually trying to tell her. But the silence paid
off, because the woman kept talking.

"The name's Elga, short for Remelga, but
that was my mother's name, rest her soul." She jerked on the reins
and the horse trudged forward again, pulling the weight of the cart
very slowly behind. But it was a direction, the right direction,
and that was all that mattered to Jinji.

Elga looked ahead, watching the road, but
kept chattering. "I work in the fields outside the walls, have all
my life. My husband is too old to sell anymore, so I come in, do
his work, little money that it is. Castle takes all the good crop,
leaving barely anything left to bring to the market. But the people
still buy it, and I take whatever money they can offer. They love
my vegetables; best there are everyone tells me. The plants love
me, that's what they say. Silly, isn't it? Thinking like that, but
that's what they say."

"I don't think it's silly," Jinji said
softly, almost surprising herself, but the words popped out, beyond
her control.

Elga smiled and the somewhat wary tilt to
her gaze disappeared. She leaned in. "That's what I tell my
husband, but he says to stay quiet. To mind my tongue, little help
it gives me. Talk like that is dangerous, he says, gets people
hurt—killed these days."

Jinji turned sharply toward Elga, eyes
widening.

"What do you mean?"

"Oh nothing, nothing, I really shouldn't."
She bit her wrinkled lips, fighting the urge to speak.

"Please," Jinji said breathily. Her heart
quickened. Her grip on the seat below her tightened. She was on the
verge of discovering something—she could feel it.

Elga looked over, lips pursed, and then
leaned closer. "Well, people have been noticing odd disappearances,
deaths even, but it's real hush, hush. They say it’s the king, that
he's killing off people who might be, well… But not me, bless the
spirits. King Whylfrick would never do nothing like that, he's a
good man."

"It's not the king." Jinji frowned. Was this
really happening? After so long, had she really just fallen into
the answers? All this time, could the spirits have been waiting for
her to get the courage to leave Rhen, to follow her own path?

Elga straightened quickly, eyeing Jinji with
caution, her old brown eyes lightening with wisdom.

"Course not, that's what I said," she spoke
louder, pushing the words out onto the street before her, "King
Whylfrick loves his people, he would never."

"People who might be what?" Jinji asked,
still stuck on Elga's previous words. What had the woman meant? Was
it the ramblings of a crazy person, or was it the answer Jinji had
been searching for all along?

But Elga shook her head, using her voice to
urge her horse onward.

The streets had grown busier, louder. They
had moved through the second wall without Jinji realizing. The
people around here wore dull garments of thick wool, dark brown and
black with none of the fineries Jinji had almost grown accustomed
to seeing. Men stumbled around, holding cups aloft. Their faces
were red, eyes glassy. It reminded Jinji of the tavern Rhen had
taken her to so long ago. Madness.

Voices rose over the crowd singing songs
that Jinji didn’t recognize. The lyrics spoke of Whyl the
Conqueror.

And that's when she realized that the people
were celebrating. The nobles had the Naming Ceremony, locked behind
their walls standing in formal processions, and the city had
this—chaos.

Jinji focused on Elga, noticing that the
woman was determinedly not opening her mouth.

"Please, people who might be what?" Jinji
repeated, pleading.

But instead of answering, Elga pulled hard
on the reins, muttering something under her breath—
big mouth,
trouble
, and other words Jinji couldn't make out.

"I'm sorry, boy, but I can't say, now run
along, I—I have to go back, I left something that my husband won't
forgive me losing, his favorite blanket you see, and I need to get
it."

"Elga," Jinji urged, reaching for the
woman's arm, but she was swatted away.

"Now go," she said louder. "I said leave.
Get off my cart and go!"

Men turned, hearing the shriek in the
woman's voice. They narrowed their gazes on Jinji, taking a second
too long to try to place her clothes and her darker skin. One man
stepped forward, eyeing her with distrust, a big drink sloshing in
his hand.

For the first time since Roninhythe, Jinji
felt different. Her skin crawled under their lead gazes.

"Who are you boy?" One man asked, his voice
deep and slurred.

"Where are you from?" Another asked.

"Where'd you get those clothes?" Still a
third pressed.

More turned, eyes brightening at the sign of
a commotion. The energy shifted, darkened, narrowed on her until it
felt suffocating.

Elga continued to yell nonsense, even after
Jinji had slipped from the cart, landing hard on the uneven
cobblestones.

A hand gripped her sleeve, pinching her
skin.

Without turning to see who it was, Jinji
ran, wincing at the sound of cloth ripping. She looked down at the
tattered shreds of her shirt, gone from the elbow down, torn free.
Her arm was thin and womanly, not bulging with muscles. She kept
moving, praying no one noticed. Praying to the spirits that she
moved fast enough for the rest of her clothes to stay intact.

Jinji remembered what her father had told
her. Old lessons died hard. And she knew without a doubt that it
was much safer to be a boy in this world than it was to be a girl,
especially a copper-skinned girl that no one could lay claim to—not
even the man she would name her only friend.

Shouts followed in her wake, urging her
forward.

Turning down a street, she risked a glance
over her shoulder, cringing as an angry crowd came into view behind
her. Four men in hot pursuit.

Jinji pivoted to the left, down another
street, then to the right, to the left—not caring as she dove
deeper into the maze of the city. As long as the cries behind her
grew quieter, she knew she had traveled in the right direction.

But there was one problem, they weren't
disappearing.