Yield the Night (31 page)

Suddenly, silvery blue water dragons lined the bank, half a dozen on either side of her, the scales on their foreheads glowing and their jaws opened wide in threat as they gazed upward. The griffins had aborted their dives and were hovering awkwardly out of reach of the creatures.

A strange ripple ran across the river—and a dark head broke the surface.

The ryujin floated in the middle of the river, untouched by the current, head and shoulders visible as he looked up at the griffins. One of the flying daemons hurled his halberd. The ryujin vanished beneath the surface a moment before the weapon splashed into the water.

The river rippled again. The current churned. The griffins started flapping frantically, retreating toward the high cliffs. Too slow.

Pillars of water exploded out of the river—and Piper saw what Miysis had meant about the ryujin’s good aim. Twelve pillars. Twelve helpless griffins. Each waterspout slammed into a fleeing griffin. The water folded over them like breaking waves and yanked them down. Twelve griffins disappeared beneath the surface.

And then there was no sound but the mundane rush of the river. No more wings in the sky. No more blades flashing in the sun.

Piper launched to her feet and ran down the bank, her heart squeezing in her chest.

Ash lay exactly where she’d left him. He’d lost his glamour, dark wings splayed awkwardly against the rocks. She dropped to her knees beside him. His chest rose and fell, breath fast and weak. His face was white as snow and his skin icy to the touch.

“Ash!” she gasped. “Help!” she yelled over her shoulder. “Help him!”

She clutched his hand and pressed her fingers to his wrist. His pulse was fast and erratic. He had no time left.

“It’s okay, Ash,” she said, her voice shaking. “The griffins are gone now. And there’s a ryujin. He’s going to help you. He can heal you.”

She clutched his hand. His chest rose and fell, faster and faster as he fought for air, slowly drowning in his own blood.

“You’ll be okay,” she whispered. “Just hold on. Don’t give up. Help!” she screamed toward the water.

Ash’s breath came in gasps. She squeezed his hand, her heart in her throat as she watched his chest rise and fall, counting each desperate breath he took. The ryujin—she had no idea if it was the same one as before—ran through the shallow water and knelt beside her. He reached for Ash.

Ash let out a gurgling breath—then silence.

His chest didn’t rise again.

CHAPTER 22

P
IPER
paced. Back and forth. Ten steps, then ten more. She couldn’t stop moving even though her muscles trembled with each step. Even though her head and chest were burning from using too much of the Sahar’s magic. Even though the scabbed wound on her back kept reopening from the constant movement.

She couldn’t stop until she knew Ash would live.

Seconds after Ash had stopped breathing, two more ryujin had burst out of the water, and she’d recognized the one who’d healed her. They’d circled Ash, kneeling around him, magic sizzling in the air. A long minute had passed as they worked on him—and then Ash had taken another breath. And another. But each one was so weak it sounded like it would surely be his last.

Once it was clear Ash wouldn’t immediately expire, she’d left for a minute to find Zwi. The poor dragonet had been lying in a crumpled lump behind a cluster of rocks, probably knocked out of the air by the griffin. When Piper had picked her up, Zwi had opened her eyes and mewled softly. She’d seemed to be only bruised, for which Piper couldn’t be more grateful.

The dragonet’s master, though, was in far worse shape.

With Zwi in her arms, Piper had turned to rejoin the ryujin and Ash, when movement had caught her eye. Far above on the cliff’s edge, a line of figures had stood watching her. She couldn’t say how she knew, but she had been certain that one of them was Miysis. She’d stared up at him, hatred scorching her soul.

“Child.”

The ryujin who’d healed her before had stood, and he too was looking up at the cliffs.

“This place is not safe. We must move.”

The other ryujin had carefully lifted Ash between them, their hands gentle as they laid him across the back of the nearest water dragon. She’d wanted to ask them why they were helping her, why they were helping Ash—but clearly they were, and she would worry about their motivations later.

“Will he be okay?” Piper had asked, her voice shaking.

“He is stable ... for now.”

That had been two hours ago. The ryujin had taken her down the river, back to the cave where she’d nearly died. Deep inside the snaking underground cavern system that no one but a ryujin could enter was their home.

Piper had only seen two daemon dwellings. Asphodel in the Underworld had been old world elegance mixed with modern design, striking with a cold, stark beauty. But the ryujin city was something else entirely.

The main cave was long and winding, with a small branch of the river flowing casually through the middle. Much of it was natural stone, carved long ago by flowing currents and dripping water. Stalagmites hung high above. Veins of quartz or some other colored stone glittered in the ceiling of the cavern, ice blue and amethyst and champagne pink.

The rest had been carved by the ryujin—smooth, swirling lines and curves that mimicked flowing water. From the wide doorways to the footbridges to the walkways leading up to the higher levels, there were no straight lines to be seen. Uncut gemstones the size of melons had been set in the walls and imbued with spells that made them glow, lighting the darkness with soft colors.

It was more beautiful than a dream. Once she knew Ash would be okay, she would appreciate it properly. But for now she continued to pace, occasionally glancing toward the shadowy crevice of rock where Zwi was hiding, as there were too many strangers for the shy dragonet to show herself.

The city didn’t have houses. Instead, doorways led to the interior of the mountain, covered by curtains woven from leaves and vines, and decorated with glittering gems. Wide avenues led to entirely different branches of the city where more ryujin lived. She couldn’t even begin to guess how many called this place home. It could have been anywhere from few hundred to a few thousand.

And this was just one small city. Similar cavern systems existed throughout the mountain range. How many cities had they built beneath the mountains?

She kept her line of pacing contained to the stretch of smooth stone in front of what she assumed were guest rooms of some kind. Inside the guest room, on the other side of the woven curtain, a group of ryujin was working to heal Ash. They had stopped him from dying on the rocky shore of the river, but he wasn’t anywhere near out of danger. He could still die. If his heart stopped again, that would be it.

She’d been kicked out of the room before they’d even laid him out on the bed—a mattress of soft sheets and a plush rug that the ryujin probably hadn’t crafted themselves. More of the strange daemons had been waiting outside the room to greet her. They’d tried to get her to come with them, to have her injuries treated, to get food and some real clothes, but she’d refused. They’d tried to get her to at least sit down, but she’d refused that as well. Some of them lingered, watching her as though she was some shy, exotic creature they didn’t want to frighten.

She had to make a conscious effort not to stare at them as she paced. The ryujin were a beautiful people despite their alien looks. Their scaled bodies shimmered in the faint light of the glowing stones. Men and women both wore their dark hair long, some loose, some braided with beads and gemstones. The men wore garments similar to shorts, fitted to minimize drag in the water. The women wore similar bottoms, as well as halter tops. The garments shimmered too, by all appearances waterproof, and were decorated with intricate stitching and more gemstones.

The presence of the nearby ryujin was like a comforting spot of warmth in her mind. She didn’t understand their telepathy, but somehow she could
feel
them around her. Every individual was a presence in her mind. Maybe her new form was more receptive than her human body, or maybe she just hadn’t been near enough of them before. If she had felt this before, she never would have been afraid of the first ryujin. She could literally sense their welcome and acceptance.

She would never again judge a daemon based on reputation alone. So many feared the ryujin. Even Underworlders knew their reputation as vicious killers. But they were clearly not a violent people at heart. She still didn’t understand why they were helping her and Ash, why they were so welcoming and concerned, but she couldn’t doubt their sincerity.

As much as they were generally placid, she’d seen their other side too. The one who had arrived first to help her had destroyed the attacking griffins with cold precision. Her water attacks had been clumsy and childish in comparison. He had been utterly lethal, more than living up to his people’s reputation. But then, immediately after when she’d asked for his help to save someone who, to him, was an enemy, he hadn’t even hesitated.

No one had questioned her. No one had asked her to justify why they should heal an enemy at her request—her, a half-breed they’d never met. It was a level of generosity and acceptance that she’d never encountered before.

She rubbed a hand over her chest. Her head and lungs still burned from the Sahar’s magic. Although brief attacks with the Stone didn’t cause her pain, she’d known it was possible to use too much. When she’d used it to break the gold collar off her neck, the pain had been intense. As Ash had told her months ago, her body could only hold so much at once, and she’d clearly pushed her limits too far today.

Aside from the physical pain, she was confused by the Sahar’s emotional effect on her. When she’d used it two months ago, it had overwhelmed her with bloodthirsty rage until she could barely think, until all she’d wanted to do was kill. But this time, that side effect of the power had seemed almost muted. She wasn’t sure if the difference had to do with her being shaded or something else.

A rustling sound to her left stopped her mid-step. She turned quickly as four ryujin filed wearily out of Ash’s room. Their tired faces told her nothing as they swept past her, likely in search of their beds. The last one to exit was the ryujin who’d healed her. His name was Hinote—as in “he-no-tay.” She’d had to practice it out loud so she wouldn’t garble it later.

His dark eyes rose to her face. “Come, child.”

She couldn’t read the emotion behind his words. She ran for the doorway.

Ash lay across the bed on his back, his wings cradled by the mattress, half-furled. His weapons had been removed and laid near the far wall. Eyes closed. Wounds gone. Chest rising and falling with smooth, quiet breaths.

Gasping for air from her relief, she rushed to his side and knelt on the edge of the mattress. She gently touched his chest, delighted to feel warm skin under her touch. She looked up at Hinote. He crossed the room, movements slow and flowing like water, and knelt beside her. His eyes slid across Ash’s sleeping form.

“His injuries are healed,” the daemon said in his deep, measured voice, “but he is not yet out of danger.”

“What do you mean?”

“His body is weak. His lungs and viscera were contaminated with water. It will be many days before the danger has passed, and many more until he regains his strength.”

Her hand blindly found Ash’s and closed around it, warm skin and cooler scales.

“He’s tough,” she said, her voice wavering. “He’ll pull through.”

Hinote nodded.

“I—” She cleared her throat. “I don’t know how to thank you. You saved us both.”

“There are no debts among family, child.”

Her heart caught in her throat. “But—I—I’m not ...”

“The river knew you as kin even as a human. So did I.”

She licked her lips, struggling to discern any emotion from him. She could sense the warmth of his mind in her own, but the telepathy told her nothing of what he was thinking.

“How is it possible?” she asked quietly. “I thought your people never left the Overworld.”

Hinote’s dark eyes were unreadable but his voice became even more neutral. “Only one among us has ever left our homeland.”

“Only one?”

“We knew him as Yuushi, but he took a new name long ago.”

“What is it?” she whispered.

“His chosen name is Vejovis.”

Without further comment, he rose and left the room, giving her privacy.

She stared at nothing, her mind spinning. Hinote’s voice echoed in her head. Vejovis. The mysterious Overworld healer, caste unknown, past unknown, his healing skills elevated to legend.

Of course. Of course he would be a ryujin. She’d experienced firsthand the unrivaled healing skills of the caste. It was now clear where Vejovis had inherited his talents, and how he’d lived within the ryujin’s territory with impunity.

And he was her grandfather.

She slowly shook her head back and forth, barely able to comprehend it. So that’s why he’d sealed her magic as a child. Why he’d followed her from the medical center. Why he’d spared her life in Asphodel, then helped her escape. Her throat closed. He was her grandfather, and he’d died because he’d helped her.

Opening her eyes, she put Vejovis out of mind and turned to Ash. She held his hand in silence, watching his chest rise and fall, face peaceful. Slowly, she ran her fingers over the smooth ridged texture of one of his glossy horns. She touched the scales across his cheekbones and traced the faint, dark design in the hollow of his cheek. Then she brushed a fingertip over the blue material braided into his hair, her gift to remind him of his promise to protect her.

Could she have been any more selfish?

Her eyes squeezed shut. She saw it again in her head. The Ra daemons drawing their weapons to attack. Ash, ready to defend, shielding, focused. And then she had screamed.
Why
had she screamed? Why couldn’t she have kept her stupid mouth shut? Again, she saw Ash’s fatal glance in her direction, that involuntary break in concentration that had almost cost him his life.