The Knife's Edge (38 page)

“One of the swords? I thought they were just legends!”

“Like the Ronin?” Mura asked quietly.

Balder glared. “Yes, like the Ronin. Gah, curses, I said it!”

“The blade of wind is more powerful than all the others combined, or so the stories say,” Rydel said. Gray’s eyes were locked on the sword and its radiant hue when a knock came on the door, hard and swift. Several jumped at the noise.

“I don’t think the Kage are going to knock,” Mura informed them and then looked to Gray. “I’d put that away, my boy, quickly now,” he instructed as he rose. Gray swiftly sheathed the blade. The hermit opened the door and four petite barmaids with straight black hair moved into the library. In their hands they juggled platters, dishes of food, and frothing mugs. Mistress Hitomi was the last to enter.

The stern innkeeper began to direct in a different language—the same the waitress had used. It was brusque and commanding. The barmaid in the red dress from earlier placed a steaming plate of rice before Gray and gave him a sly look. He smiled in reply. Ayva pinched his arm.

“What?” he asked.

Ayva spoke beneath her breath, “You can close your mouth now.”

He shrugged. “What? I’m just being respectful.”

She rolled her eyes with a breath, mumbling something about “men” and “hopeless.”

They finished and Mistress Hitomi signaled with a hand to her side and the girls filed behind her as if it were an orchestrated dance. When all was in its place, the innkeeper spoke, “Tonight’s dinner is tender roast duck breast glazed in Tsugi’s own famed sweet meruu sauce, with grilled vegetables, and a traditional Hrofi side dish of glazed rice.”

“Hrofi?” Mura questioned. “That city hasn’t been around in over two thousand years.

“You’re right,” she said. “Very astute. You’ll notice most of our customs date back to ancient times, seeing as we’ve been isolated these many years. If there is nothing else? Onne—” she said to the four women and turned to leave.

“Wait,” said Gray. Mistress Hitomi paused. “If you don’t mind, I was curious about your books. It’s quite a collection.”

Mistress Hitomi glanced at the dusty books fondly. “It has been a hobby of mine for as long as I can remember.”

“Collecting books?”

“Rare artifacts” she corrected. “A piece of history, if you will. It just so happens that books are the best resource to our past.” Gray felt a twinge of regret as he remembered the tome that Mura had shared with him… back in the Lost Woods. Mistress Hitomi continued, “Where else can you learn about the Lieon, elves, and Farhaven all at once?”

Ayva’s eyes grew wide. “Where did you get all of them?” she asked.

“I earned them, one by one,” she said fondly. “It started with a curiosity about languages. Then one day I stumbled across a certain book that led me down a different path. Soon I was collecting a very… distinctive sort of text. The rarest, most valuable kind—the kind that contains stories, which likely only the elves know.” She glanced to Rydel. “Stories about the Ronin.” Those in the room exchanged silent looks.

“You’re not afraid to say that name?”

The innkeeper gave a subtle snort. “You will find it’s quite hard to usher me into silence. Forgive my bluntness.”

“I understand,” said Mura. “You are a wise woman.”

Mistress Hitomi looked like a bird with her feathers ruffled, but her cheeks took on a spot of red. “Perhaps more stubborn than wise.” She then turned, taking in the well-sized library with its many packed shelves. “Every book you see here has been bartered or bought from all over Daerval from the dark corners to the light.” At his side, Gray saw Ayva, and he half expected her to squeak with delight or awe.

Mistress Hitomi continued. “Searching for them became as much a passion as reading them—each time I found something new, something almost no one living knew about. Some were dark deals, and they nearly cost me my life, but they were all fair trades,” she insisted.

“Indeed,” Mura commented.

Gray took in the dusty tomes with a newfound appreciation for both the books and their intriguing innkeeper.

“I see you found one of my favorites,” Mistress Hitomi said, eyeing the book in Ayva’s hands. “A very rare one too. You have quite the eye.” Ayva warmed under the praise, smiling shyly. With that, Mistress Hitomi turned to leave and the four waitresses followed her out like ducklings in a row.

Gray was famished. He picked up a pair of thin sticks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mura, Balder and Rydel use the two sticks in perfect unison. He followed suit and deftly grabbed a piece of duck. Satisfied, he popped it into his mouth and nearly groaned in satisfaction—it was perfect, juicy and tender. Every bite was delicious. The glazed rice was slightly sweet and tangy, and the vegetables were fresh and grilled to perfection. Though he couldn’t lie, he probably would have devoured a heaping plate of mush and been content at that moment.

“You should see the stables, Gray,” said Ayva abruptly, putting down her sticks. “They alone are three times as big as my father’s whole inn and gorgeous—I hope our rooms are half as clean. The wine cellar alone could probably fit The Golden Horn.”

Gray smiled, “I’ll have to check them out. Where’s Darius?” he said suddenly, realizing the rogue was nowhere to be seen.

“Drinking at a nearby tavern I’m sure,” Ayva said with an irritated huff. “When he heard that everything was free, because we’re the king’s guests, he had to find the fanciest place.”

At that moment, the door flew open, and Darius came barging in as if on cue. “Worthless!” he exclaimed loudly. “All of it, worthless! Rotten fake money!” He threw a clattering of coins upon the tabletop. Gray picked up one, fingering it. Along its band and on its surface were small strange symbols, unrecognizable lines and curves, like the other signs he had seen in the city. The coin was as light as a feather in his hand.

“Where’d you two learn to open the door?” Mura muttered with a harrumph. “There’s such a thing as a knock.”

Darius shrugged, still shaking his head in annoyance, “I won ten games straight before I realized not one person in this place has any real money. It’s all that tin junk or whatever it is. But it’s definitely not gold,” he vented as he bit down on a shiny piece and made a disgusted sound, throwing it on the table with the rest. “It even tastes bad.”

“I could care less about the money,” Ayva said. “Besides the books, and the stables and this whole inn, and the people, this entire city is amazing. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Darius snorted. “I’ve never seen so many people, and dressed so finely. I’ll agree with that much.” He shut the door and took a chair backwards, next to Balder. Darius introduced himself with a rough handshake.

Rydel pushed his plate towards Darius. “Go ahead,” said the elf.

“Not hungry?” Gray asked.

“No elf can eat the flesh of another animal,” Rydel replied.

“Well, then don’t mind me,” Darius said and dug in, shoveling the food into his mouth. With his other hand he gestured with a cooked carrot. “Say, what’d you all think of that Mistress Hitomi?”

“Stubborn as a mule, but not hard on the eyes,” Mura answered, picking his teeth.

“I’m not sure how you can even look at her like that,” Darius said. “She’s got a mantle of stiffness wrapped around her so tight it looks painful.”

“It’s easy to look at any woman for their beauty,” Mura rejoined.

The rogue shrugged. “Well, she gives me the shivers, right down to my bones.”

“Do you think we can trust her, Mura?” Gray asked.

“I’m not certain,” said the hermit. “She seems to be holding much back, as are we. Until the King makes his choice, you have to understand we cannot feel for these people, Gray. It’s not wise. It is still possible that he may fail to see wisdom.” Another knock came on the door, hard and fast, sounding more urgent than before.

Mistress Hitomi stuck in her head. Gray noticed the hulking frame of the brute, Dorbin, hovering close behind her in the light of the hallway like a second shadow. “His Majesty is ready to see you. His messenger awaits,” she announced.

The Shiroku Palace

T
HE MESSENGER LED THEM THROUGH THE
ivory-paved streets at a quick pace. Together, with the others at his side, Gray ascended the tiered city.

Blue flags waved majestically on the tops of buildings, proudly displaying the symbol of the Kingdom of Ice, a white flame of ice against a dark blue backdrop.

As Gray rode, he passed richly garbed men and women. Each was draped in robes of deep purples, or rich reds. The people of the Noble’s District walked along garden paths in small groups. Many of the men were plump with heavy jowls and smooth skin, while the women were slender with thin eyebrows like painted lines. A few of the men’s polished pates shone in the fading light of dusk. The plush borough was serene compared to the bustle of the lower city. As their entourage whisked past, the men and women turned and cast the galloping strangers’ curious stares. Brows rose in surprise until Gray thought they would come off their foreheads.

Ahead, he watched the messenger’s back. He was a man of rank, dressed in white and blue, wearing a tabard with the symbol of ice. When he had summoned them, their mounts were already waiting before the inn. Now he matched his urgency by pressing his horse hard.

They came to a sudden halt as the white road ended.

“The Shiroku Palace,” the messenger announced.

Before them was an alabaster palace. It was vast, blotting out the setting sun and dwarfing the nearby villas. Fluted columns, and detailed frescos adorned its front, Gray glimpsed flying buttresses in the distance. At its pinnacle, was a large golden dome that reflected the sun’s rays.

Two straight rows of stern-faced guards, decked in full plate, led to the palace’s doors, which themselves were enormous plates of silver. Handing his reins to a nearby guard, Gray dismounted. Fael’wyn’s hide sweated with a thick lather. He strode forward.

“Wait!” the messenger cried, “You must wait!”

Gray didn’t slow. Darius, Ayva and the others quickly dismounted and joined his side. He approached the massive doors and several guards hastily broke rank and opened the huge metal doors just in time. As he strode down the spacious hall, he surveyed their surroundings.

Niches were carved into the hallway. Each nook was filled with curious objects: there were low flat tables of polished wood with slender vases made from swirling-pink stone, helmets on stands, slightly curved swords of varying size in elegant racks, a painting of falling cherry blossoms, and large rice-paper hangings with deep black brushed symbols. Beneath his feet was a vibrant blue and purple carpet. Guards flanked them as they moved. On every passing corridor he saw more guards and the insignia of the Kingdom of Ice. He remembered Mura’s words. The Shining City was but a fragment of the once Great Kingdom. The notion was hard to believe.

Ahead he saw another pair of doors, this time gilded with gold. The guards at the door were dressed in white tabards with dark blue trousers.

“Your weapons,” a guard demanded, motioning to a nearby table.

“So be it,” Mura answered.

Gray hesitated while the others withdrew their blades. He stepped back from the others, hoping the guards wouldn’t notice his bundle as a weapon.

“What’s that on your back?” said a tall guard.

The messenger approached, breathing heavily, having caught up with them at last. “Hand it over,” he ordered, breathless. Grudgingly, Gray unstrapped the sword. Luckily, the guard simply threw Morrowil into a pile on the tables with the others. Only then did the guards unbolt and push open the heavy gold doors. A chorus of voices assaulted them. Inside, hundreds of rows of balconies were filled to the brim with people—men and women dressed in layered robes.

All eyes turned to Gray and those at his side, and whispers filled the room.

“Dear Lokai,” the rogue muttered.

The huge circular floor gleamed with red-veined white marble. At the heart of the room a symbol of ice was inlaid.

The messenger pushed ahead. “Quickly, give me your names and where you hail from, so that I may introduce you to his majesty.” Gray provided the only answer he knew, and the man said in a booming voice, “May I introduce to his Majesty, the eminent King Katsu, the honorable Rydel-sama and Mura-sama of Eldas, High Kingdom of Elves, Darius-sama and Ayva-sama of Lakewood, and Gray-sama of the Lost Woods.” He finished with a deep bow, his head nearly skimming the ground. The man’s impressive voice had filled the room, and now a hush settled over the vast chambers.