The Flames of Dragons (10 page)

She sighed. So that was it. There was no Ryokaiten here after all. It was just a place to worship the Water Dragon himself. Divinion had once possessed a similar shrine in Haldessa Castle, though the Lodians had long since forgotten its purpose.

Hana turned back to face Faro, and she was shocked to see the worshippers had stopped praying. They glared at Faro as though he were a demon. He strode up to Hana. “Dis is Mizuchi,” he said. “Is he what you expected?”

“Not exactly,” Hana admitted.

Faro knelt before the painting and folded his hands. Hana hadn’t expected the carefree bum to be religious. Low-class or not, he impressed her more with each second.

At length Faro unfolded his hands and reached for the bundle at the end of his stick. He untied the knot, and all his possessions were laid bare for Hana to see. There wasn’t much: four slices of dried fruit, a leather bladder that Hana guessed held water, and a metal hip flask that likely held something stronger.

The only strange object was a steel rod no longer or wider than Hana’s index finger. Before Hana could get a good look at it, Faro snagged it, dipped it in the pool, and closed his eyes.

Hana heard rustling behind her. She craned her head around, instinctively expecting an attack.

Sure enough, one of the worshippers was on his feet, fists clenched. Another man held him back, murmuring in his ear. Hana couldn’t tell what the man said, but it was clear this pool was off-limits.

If Faro noticed or cared about the angry worshippers, he didn’t signal it. He stayed in his position for more than a minute before he rose and retied his bundle.

Hana looked at the pool and frowned. The water line had changed. It had dropped almost six inches from its previous level.

“Sorry to leave you, Hana,” Faro said, “but Iokua expects me. I should amble on up dere.”

Hana was taken aback. The island’s chief wanted to see this drifter? She couldn’t help herself. “You have an appointment with Iokua?”

Faro laughed his rapid laugh. “Oh, I forgot to tell you my full name! Dey call me Faro de Magnificent. I’m de greatest conjurer of de Tacumsah Islands!” He gave her an exaggerated bow. “If you’re stickin’ around, you should see my show tonight. I perform for de chief dis evening, but afterward I give a special show for de people by de docks. I’ll see you dere, ya? It’ll be a lovely night to spend time on de beach!” He winked.

Hana’s smile was strained. “I just came from down there, but maybe you’ll see me. I don’t have anywhere else to be right now.”

Faro grinned and bowed again. Then he headed back up the stairs.

The moment Faro left, Hana’s smile disappeared. When the man had bowed to her the first time, that’s when she had seen it. He had thrown his arm out to the side, and in that second, he’d shown Hana the steel rod’s face. It had three concentric kanji rings on it.

That rod was the Zuryokaiten. That charming man was the Water Dragon Knight.

And now Hana had to kill him.

Iren Saitosan crouched in the forest north of Goro and Chiyo’s farm. His eyes focused on the array of rocks, trees, and fallen logs before him. He’d run through these woods every evening for three weeks straight. He always started from a different place and ran in a different direction. He didn’t want familiarity with the terrain to influence the results.

“One more time,” he said through gritted teeth. “Here we go.”

He drew the Muryozaki and took off. Trees blazed past him. A boulder sprang into his vision. He almost tripped, but he saw how high the rock was and jumped just enough to clear it. The bottom of his leather boot tapped it ever so slightly, enough to give him a burst of speed.

As he landed, a fallen log threatened to send him spilling into the dirt. Iren put his empty right hand on it and vaulted over the dead tree without losing momentum.

Midway through his flip, he spun in midair so he landed facing to the left of the way he’d originally traveled. He shot off in this new direction. It wasn’t good enough only to go in a straight line. Rondel was more than fast; she was precise and flexible too. Iren had to maneuver at least as quickly.

A clump of trees loomed ahead. They were too tightly packed to run between and too wide to run around. A week ago Iren would have slammed into them, but not anymore. He stepped onto one of their trunks, ran up the tree, then sprang off it so he landed pointed in the direction he’d come from. He ran back that way, appreciating the different perspective of the various obstacles.

Iren kept up the weaving, dodging, and sprinting for another hour before he decided it was enough. He returned to his cave and went inside.

This was the third time in as many days he’d run through the forest without so much as catching his foot on a loose stone. It was enough to convince him that it wasn’t a fluke. He’d done it. He’d trained his eyes and mind to respond to high speed movement.

His pulse pounding as much from the thrill of success as from the run, Iren needed ten minutes before he could calm himself enough to enter his meditative state. He couldn’t wait to tell Divinion the good news.

The Holy Dragon was waiting for him on the beach inside Iren’s mind. Iren rushed to him, but Divinion was already smiling. “Well done,” the dragon said.

Iren pouted. “You know, I was hoping to surprise you.”

Divinion made his huffing laughter. “It’s hard to surprise a god who can see all your memories.”

“Good point. So do I pass?”

The dragon nodded his enormous square head. “I expected it to take you a month. It helps that you can work at high speed on Goro and Chiyo’s farm.”

“Now that they know I’m a ronin, there’s no point in hiding my abilities from them. Goro still avoids me, but I think Chiyo likes the change. And if nothing else, I get my chores done faster.”

“That’s good,” Divinion replied, “because the next part of your training will demand all the time you can find.”

Iren tried not to let his excitement show, but he knew Divinion could sense it anyway. “What do I do next?” he asked.

“I could tell you,” the dragon said, “but the best way for you to understand is to see it in a memory. Did you know that the night your parents died wasn’t the first time Rondel and Iren Saito fought each other?”

Iren was taken aback. “I thought they loved each other up until the Kodama-Maantec War, and after that my father avoided Rondel. When did they fight?”

“More than twelve hundred years ago, when they were teenagers. It was part of their training to become mages. Before the Kodama-Maantec War, Maantec nobles gained rank by defeating each other in one-on-one matches.”

“Were they Dragon Knights at the time?”

Divinion shook his head. “Rondel hadn’t even developed Lightning Sight when this battle took place. You’ll have to view the fight from the perspective of your grandfather, Emperor Hideki Saito. But I shouldn’t spoil the fun. Shall we?”

“Yes,” Iren replied. “Show me the secret to defeating Rondel.”

*   *   *

The world darkened a moment. When it lightened again, Iren sat in a plush box at the highest point of a massive arena. Thousands of Maantecs sat in the bleachers around and beneath him.

At the arena’s center was a circular pit three hundred feet wide and thirty feet deep. Hard sand formed the ground, and stacked stone bricks lined the walls.

Emperor Hideki Saito pushed down his nervousness. He had to look confident for the crowd. They had all come for one purpose: to see the emperor’s son fight the wonder child, the girl who had bested the prodigy Katashi Melwar: Rondel Thara.

Hideki stared down at Rondel on the arena floor. She was small and wiry even for a girl. Her dark brown hair was tied in a tight bun on top of her head, much like the favored style of her adopted mother, the Storm Dragon Knight Caly Thara.

Rondel’s unassuming appearance meant nothing in this bout. For reasons no one could explain, the former farm girl had magic that surpassed the highest nobles. Adding to that natural talent, she had fighting skills and tactical prowess honed by Caly herself.

Despite all that, no one in the crowd called Rondel’s name. They cheered only for Iren. They weren’t about to root against him when his father was in attendance.

Hideki shifted his attention to his son. Iren didn’t seem affected by the crowd. He’d fought in the arena before, so he knew what to expect. He would ignore the crowd and focus on his opponent.

That might be a problem. Hideki knew how his son felt about Rondel. The boy had always been obstinate, rebelling against the order and hierarchy of the court. Rondel, a walking breach of etiquette, was an irresistible attraction.

A man in a white kimono ran onto the arena floor and positioned himself between the combatants. He called them over and had them stand ten feet apart.

Hideki couldn’t hear the man over the crowd, but he’d seen and taken part in enough arena matches over the centuries to know the words by heart. “Don’t leave the arena,” he saw the proctor’s mouth say. “You may not receive outside help. Aside from these restrictions, you may use any method to win. There is no time limit. The first to concede, lose consciousness, or die loses. Do you understand?”

Iren drew his katana and nodded. Across from him, Rondel pointed her dagger at Iren’s stomach.

“Begin!” the proctor shouted, and then he had to leap out of the way as Iren shot toward Rondel.

Hideki smiled his approval. There was no point giving Rondel any more time to think than necessary. Strategy was her strength; Iren couldn’t give her the space to use it.

Their blades clashed, and sparks cascaded from the impact. The crowd cheered, but neither fighter reacted to the sound.

Rondel launched a flurry of thrusts, so rapid even Hideki had difficulty tracking them all. With her short arm and weapon, Rondel could attack faster than Iren could block with his katana. He withdrew, using a flash of light to distract Rondel and buy him a second’s worth of distance. He followed up with three quick beams fired from his right index, middle, and ring fingers.

An ordinary opponent would still be dealing with the second of blindness and have taken all three shots in the torso. Rondel, though, was far from ordinary. Rather than recover while standing still, she had run away even though she couldn’t see. The arena had no obstacles, and Rondel was well away from the wall. She could regain her sight without risk.

The pair of fighters were now more than two hundred feet apart. Iren tried another light beam, but Rondel dodged it effortlessly.

Hideki frowned. Iren couldn’t win at long range, because Rondel could avoid his spells. Nor could he win at close range, because Rondel’s dagger could strike faster than Iren’s katana. That left only one conclusion.

Iren couldn’t win.

The boy looked up and locked eyes with Hideki. The message was clear. Iren also knew he was outmatched.

Rondel didn’t take advantage of her foe’s distraction. She must have guessed her victory too, and she was hoping Iren was smart enough to give up.

Hideki shared that hope. “Concede,” he mouthed. “Concede.”

It was dishonorable, but it was better than risking death. Iren was Hideki’s only son and heir.

Iren sheathed his sword and held out his left hand, palm up. Hideki breathed a sigh of relief.

Then his chest tightened. Iren’s mouth hadn’t moved. He hadn’t announced his withdrawal. He was going to continue the fight. But why? He had no spell that could overcome Rondel.

Unless . . .

Hideki leapt to his feet and pointed to his attendant in the back of the box. “Get down to the arena floor. Find the proctor. Tell him to stop the fight.”

The attendant sucked air through his teeth. “Exalted Emperor, I don’t understand. They’ve only just begun—”

“No time!” Hideki roared. “Get moving!”

The man nodded frantically and took off. Hideki turned back to the arena. A light appeared in Iren’s palm. It grew and grew, brightening until Hideki couldn’t look directly at it.

Fool of a child! Hideki could guess why his son was doing this. Iren, Hideki, and Rondel knew the fight’s outcome, but the people in the stands didn’t. All they’d seen were a few thrusts and a minor light show. Any noble with a year of training could do all that. Iren and Rondel were supposed to be the most talented young mages in a thousand years. The crowd expected a show.

More problematic, they expected Iren to win. He was a Saito, one of the divine imperial lineage. If he gave up without a fight, the Maantecs in the stadium would riot.

But if he released the spell he was preparing, they would die instead.

The light in Iren’s palm churned and swirled as it took shape. It grew larger and brighter.

Then came the moment Hideki had dreaded. The light itself caught fire.

A
whoosh
filled the arena as the spell ignited. White flames shot six feet in the air.

Hideki gripped the rail of his box. Where was the attendant? Where was the proctor?

It was too late now. Hideki leapt over the box wall and landed hard on the bleachers in front of him. He charged through the spectators, heedless of the stares they gave him. He had only one thought: to stop this match before anyone got killed.

As Hideki neared the arena wall, Rondel charged across the sand toward Iren. She must have figured out the boy wasn’t going to surrender. When she came within fifty feet, she threw out her right hand and shot a lightning bolt at the emperor’s son.

It never reached him. The flames curled around Iren and warded off the blow.

Rondel closed to short range. She stabbed with her dagger, but again the flames acted as a shield.

Hideki landed on the arena floor and rushed toward the far end. The proctor had appeared by now too, but he was too far away.

It was for the best. Iren’s spell demanded release. The farther away people were from him when it went off, the better.

Iren lunged at Rondel. She backed up, but Iren’s speed matched hers. She couldn’t get away from him. His palm reached out for her.

Just before Iren’s spell brushed Rondel’s clothes, a magenta blur flashed into the stadium. Hideki recognized the color as Caly Thara’s formal clan kimono. The Storm Dragon Knight grabbed Rondel and fled backward, away from Iren’s spell.

Unfortunately, that wouldn’t save them. The boy’s technique could be contained no longer. It erupted from his hand in a geyser of white flame.

The spell struck Rondel and Caly when they were forty feet away. Both screamed as the attack burned away their clothes and seared their flesh.

Hideki saw the panic on his son’s face. He was trying desperately to make the spell stop, but that was impossible. The energy all had to come out. Once cast, there was no reversing it.

Finally Hideki was close enough. He drew the Muryozaki and poured magic into it. White light shot between Iren and Rondel. It formed a shield and deflected his son’s technique up.

The two spells clashed for more than ten seconds, but at last Iren’s magic was spent. He collapsed, his breath heaving.

Hideki ran to his son. He dropped to the sand alongside him. “Fool,” the emperor murmured. “You damn fool.”