The Flames of Dragons (9 page)

When Hana Akiyama arrived at Awakimundi, the largest of the Tacumsah Islands, she had never been more grateful. She’d spent most of the three-week voyage in her cabin trying not to vomit. She’d failed miserably.

More unsettling than her seasickness had been the loss of her dragon’s magic. At almost six feet long the Stone Dragon Hammer wasn’t a subtle weapon. There was no way she could have had it aboard without everyone on the ship knowing. Instead she’d let it follow her belowground as it always did. Out in the ocean, though, the distance between them had been miles.

Even had she been able to bring it on the ship, the hammer’s power would have been useless. There’d been nothing but water all the way to the horizon in every direction.

Hana rushed off the gangplank and jogged down the wooden pier until she reached the shore. When her feet struck the sand, she laughed aloud. She didn’t care who saw her. She took off her shoes and rubbed her bare toes in the beach. The Stone Dragon Hammer met her, the tip of its long handle pressing against the bottom of her heel.

The moment Hana felt her dragon’s magic, she used it to harden her skin into her invisible layer of armor. The lack of that armor had been the most disquieting part of the journey. Alone on a ship of primitive, low-class thugs, anyone could have attacked her. More than once she’d felt a crewman’s eyes on her. She would have held her own had it come to a fight, but she hated the idea of those filthy humans touching her bare skin.

With her armor in place and magic restored, Hana at last felt comfortable enough to take in her surroundings. The Tacumsah Archipelago was famous throughout Raa for its surpassing beauty, and Hana could see how it had earned that reputation. Awakimundi was lush with palm trees and forests that reminded Hana of Aokigahara, though less dense and therefore more inviting. The white-sand beach around her was flat, and the island sloped up gradually to its peak in the center.

Oval-shaped wooden huts dotted the island’s perimeter. Most were here around the dock, but a few were scattered about in rough villages of perhaps thirty or forty inhabitants.

None of the homes looked like anything special. They didn’t even have walls; they were just simple pole structures. Roughly constructed, they used a mishmash of logs, driftwood, and broken planks. Thatched palm fronds formed the domed roofs.

The huts looked even more pathetic compared with the island’s most dominating feature. Atop the mountain at its center sat a castle that matched Haldessa’s before its fall. The stone structure was the tallest point on the island, and its eight turrets aligned with the four cardinal directions and their midpoints.

That castle was the place to start. With that vantage point, Hana would be able to see every part of the island.

Yet even as she started walking, Hana felt doubt gnaw at her. She had no idea where the Water Dragon Knight might be, or even who he or she was. The Tacumsah Archipelago had more than a hundred islands, and while Awakimundi was the largest, most had at least a few hundred residents. If she had to search them all, she would never find her quarry.

Hana left the beach and headed inland. She initially had to dodge large groups of dark-skinned Tacumsahens working near the docks. After fifteen minutes though, she passed through the rings of huts and found her way to a packed-sand road that led toward the castle.

As she hiked, Hana marveled at the stone structure before her. It had an architecture unlike anything she had seen in either Lodia or Hiabi. In contrast to the sharp angles of Lodian design, or the graceful concave arcs of Hiabi’s keep, this castle had a teardrop shape. The southwest-facing portion was wide and bulging, while the part opposite it tapered to a point. The turrets all bore a similar cross section.

“She’s a beauty, ya?” a slow, musical voice called from behind Hana. She jumped. She hadn’t noticed that she’d stopped walking to gawk at the castle.

Hana turned around. Approaching her was a dark-skinned man of medium build, perhaps twenty years old. He wore simple clothes: a wide-brimmed straw hat, short-sleeved linen shirt and shorts, and straw sandals. In one arm he carried a stick with a cloth satchel tied to the end.

“By de glory of Mizuchi,” the man said, “now she’s lookin’ right at me!”

Hana started. Mizuchi was the Water Dragon. What did this bum know about him? Could he be the Water Dragon Knight?

She doubted it. The man was unarmed, and there was no way he could fit even a weapon as small as Rondel’s Liryometa in that satchel. If this guy was the Water Dragon Knight, he didn’t have the Zuryokaiten with him.

Still, the man was the best lead Hana had for the moment, so she decided to play along. “Hey,” she said, twirling her hair, “were you talking about the castle just now, or me?”

“Well you are both beautiful, ya?” the man answered with a fast, low laugh that came from deep in his chest. He walked up to Hana and offered his free right hand. “I’m Faro.”

Hana shook the man’s hand reluctantly. It was smooth and supple, not what she expected of a drifter.

“Hana,” she replied. “I’m from Lodia.”

“Long way for a young lady to come,” Faro said. “What brings you to Awakimundi?”

His voice was like the waves on a beach. The words flowed into each other without a care on Raa. Hana could get used to it.

She could also get used to his eyes. They were black, with no difference between the iris and pupil. Others might find them creepy, but Hana wanted to fall into those bottomless pools of night.

She shook her head to clear the thought. She was here on a mission. “The Lodian civil war,” she lied. She had practiced this potential conversation numerous times on the ship. “My parents were sheepherders, and they died early on in the fighting. I scrounged up what money was left in the farm and bought one-way passage here. I figured I’d start my life over.”

“Well, you picked a good place to do it. Tacumsah’s de safest place in de world dese days. I’m sure you can make a good life here. If you need help findin’ your way around, you just ask anyone where old Faro is. I’ll help you out.”

“That’s kind of you,” Hana said. She blushed. “I do have one question, if you don’t mind. You mentioned ‘Mizuchi’ when we first met. What’s that mean?”

Faro threw back his head and laughed. “Hoo, if you don’t even know Mizuchi, you got a lot to learn about Tacumsah. Tell you what. I’m headed to de castle. Why don’t you come with me? You can learn about Mizuchi dere.”

Hana smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

They walked up the sandy trail together. With each step, the castle’s proportions came more and more into focus. Hana had thought it looked huge from the shore, but as they neared it, she realized she had underestimated it. It wasn’t as large as Hiabi, but it dwarfed the former Haldessa Castle.

“Who rules that place?” she asked.

Faro smiled. “Dat’s de home of Awakimundi’s chief, Iokua.”

Hana looked over her shoulder at the distant beach. The huts along it were almost invisible now. “It’s hard to believe he could command such a place,” she said. “There’s such disparity of wealth here. You’d think the people would overthrow him.”

She turned back around to find Faro staring at her. “You say fancy stuff for a farm girl,” he said.

Hana swore inside her head. She was supposed to be playing the ignorant sheepherder. “I guess it’s the civil war,” she improvised. “I can’t get away with only thinking about whether my sheep are fed anymore. I don’t want to have traveled all this way just to get caught up in another war.”

Faro’s solid black eyes bored into her another moment. Then he laughed, reached out, and touched her on the shoulder. “No worries, ya? You’re not in Lodia anymore. What happened dere can’t happen here.”

“Why? Because Iokua has a big army?”

“No, because he rules at de will of de people. A chief who doesn’t share isn’t chief long.” He pointed at the fortress ahead of them. “See dat castle? Iokua lives in it, but he doesn’t own it. De people of Awakimundi own it. When de storms come, dat’s where dey go. Everyone on de island takes shelter dere.”

“The storms?”

Faro nodded. “Dey come every year, always from de southwest. Not every island gets hit every year, but it’s hard to go ten without one hittin’ you. When dey come, most homes on de beach get destroyed. If people stayed in dem, dey’d die. So dey go to de castle. Every island in Tacumsah has one. De bigger de island, de bigger de castle.”

Hana examined the castle more closely. Its teardrop shape no longer seemed random. It was deliberate. If the winds came from the southwest, they would flow around the oddly shaped structure. It could withstand nature’s wrath, even when the rest of the island was being torn apart.

She was more surprised by Faro’s description of Chief Iokua. He voluntarily opened his home to all the people of his island, even the lowest of the low. No Maantec would do that. Lowborn Maantecs would sully everything. They had to be held in check through power, through magic. Highborn Maantecs and Dragon Knights could wield magic the lower classes couldn’t hope to conjure. That kept the people in their place.

Here, though, the leader was one of the people. It made no sense.

But then, Faro must be a low-class citizen, judging by his outfit and miniscule pack. He wouldn’t fit in at a Maantec fortress, but here he didn’t seem out of place at all.

The pair arrived at the castle entrance. Hana expected a heavy gate with guards, but instead they came to a wide arch with a cascade of orchids adorning either side.

Hana and Faro crossed the threshold without anyone questioning them. Hana swiveled her head in search of soldiers, but she couldn’t spot anyone armed. It was unheard of. No city was so well protected that it had no need of guards.

Faro seemed to guess her thoughts. “No one would dream of attacking a Tacumsahen castle. Dey’re too important to people’s survival. To come here with intent to destroy is de worst crime a man can commit. It’s a crime against everyone on Awakimundi.”

Hana worked hard not to look at her feet, at the Enryokiri buried just beneath them. If the Water Dragon Knight was in one of these island castles, odds were the fortress wouldn’t survive their battle.

“Follow me,” Faro said, waving his arm in a wide arc. “I’ll show you Mizuchi.”

Hana jumped at that. “Please,” she replied, “I’m excited to learn more about him.”

Faro led Hana through the castle courtyard. Rather than grass or sand, a mix of short trees and five-foot shrubs laden with colorful fruits adorned the area.

Hana had never seen fruits like these before. “What are those?” she asked, partly because it was in farm-girl character and partly because she was genuinely curious.

“Oranges,” Faro said as he pointed at one tree, “and de ones near de ground are pineapples. Bet you never had dem in Lodia, ya?”

Hana had traveled from one end of Raa to the other, but she’d never heard of a pineapple. The fruit didn’t look at all appetizing, what with all those spikes and sword-like leaves sticking out of it.

“In here,” Faro called. He opened a wooden door that led to a stone staircase. Hana thought it would head up to enter the castle keep, but instead it led underground. She followed Faro, and together they walked down the steps.

Aside from the stairs, the passage lacked any sign of manmade construction. The walls were curved and smooth, like any natural cavern in Shikari.

“Underground, de storms don’t blow,” Faro said. “Dis is de safest place on de whole island. Dat’s why Mizuchi’s here.”

Hana’s heart fluttered. Why Mizuchi was here! Faro was taking her to the Zuryokaiten!

The steps led farther and farther down. Hana lost track of how many they’d walked. Torches lined the cave walls, so they had plenty of light.

The deeper they went, the wetter it became. The walls glistened with water, and Hana had to watch her step on the slick stairs. The air was much cooler in here than outside, like going from the middle of summer to late fall in a few moments. If anything, it was more humid here than in the tropical climate outside.

At last the steps ended at a door, this one made of blue stone. “Mizuchi’s in here,” Faro said as he pulled the door open.

Hana couldn’t help but rush in first. It wasn’t in character, but she couldn’t restrain her anticipation. If the Water Dragon’s weapon was in this room, she could take it and be on a ship back to Lodia before nightfall.

The room was forty feet across and dome-shaped. Seafoam green tiles coated both the walls and the floor. At the far end was a circular pool of water ten feet in diameter.

Three rows of carved stone pews separated Hana from the pool. A smattering of people sat in them, lost in silent prayer. Candles on sconces lit the room, and they gave everything in it a warm, soothing glow. Hana smiled despite herself.

The room’s focal point was a painting that hung suspended above the pool by a pair of metal chains. Mounted in a gold frame, the image depicted a steel-gray sea serpent wreathed by a tidal wave. Flecks of gold accentuated the beast’s wingless curves, and golden hairs cascaded down its spine.

Hana walked as close as she could to the painting without falling in the pool. The frame bore a plaque at the bottom: “Mizuchi, the Water Dragon.”