The Hearts of Dragons (13 page)

Iren was so pale Hana
wondered if the man would pass out. Without a word, he entered his chamber and
shut the sliding door behind him.

As Hana walked to her
own room, she couldn’t help but worry. All their plans, all their hopes,
depended on Iren. Right now, though, he didn’t look like their savior. At the
moment, he’d be lucky to survive.

Iren surveyed his room
and did his best to make sense of it. The place looked nothing like bedrooms in
either Lodia or Ziorsecth. Straw mats covered most of the floor, and wooden
planks made up the rest. There was no furniture. Several built-in closets and
drawers lined the walls, but that was it. Iren wondered if he could even call
the space a “bedroom,” since there wasn’t a bed anywhere in it.

The room’s strangest
features were the walls made of paper stretched over wood that crisscrossed the
chamber. Like the sliding door, they attached to wooden tracks in both the
ceiling and floor that allowed them to move.

Curious, Iren played
with the walls. He discovered he could change the room’s configuration in an
almost infinite number of ways, hiding or exposing certain sections at will.

Shifting the walls
revealed features of the room that had been blocked from the entrance. In one
corner, Iren found a cedar basin more than large enough to sit in. A pair of
metal pipes protruded above it with their ends cut off. At first he thought it
might be some kind of washtub, but if those pipes brought water, he could find
no way to turn it on.

Iren waited alone in the
room for what felt like hours. To keep busy, he opened the drawers and examined
their contents. Most had clothing, but in one closet, he came across a thick
mattress and set of blankets that he guessed were for sleeping. He grimaced. He
hoped it wasn’t Maantec custom to sleep in a closet.

A knock at the door
pulled him from his explorations. “Come in,” he said.

The sliding door opened,
and Hana entered. Iren inhaled sharply at the sight of her. During their
travels, she had worn modest clothes, but now she looked every inch the high
noble her Dragon Knight status made her. She wore an ankle-length dress of pink
silk adorned with white cherry blossoms. Her black hair hung freely down her
back and framed her oval face. Iren blushed; he couldn’t keep from staring.

“If you’re done gawking
at my kimono, can we work on you?” Hana asked. “We don’t have much time. Lord
Melwar won’t take kindly to the way you look, or smell for that matter. We’d
better start you with a bath.”

Iren craned his neck
around. “So that is what that tub is for.”

Hana ignored him and
walked to the cedar basin. She placed a hand on each of the two pipes, and
water began flowing from them.

Iren ran his fingers
through the streams. One was hot, while the other was cold. The combination
made the water in the basin perfect for soaking. “How did you do that?” he
asked.

“The pipes connect to
cisterns,” Hana said, “one heated, the other unheated. Apply magic to the pipe,
and you can open and close it.”

Though he wanted to hide
his chagrin, Iren knew he did a poor job of it. Maybe Hana could open and close
them, but he couldn’t. Like the Kodamas, the Maantecs were a magical race. Of
course they used it for everyday conveniences.

When the tub filled,
Hana touched the pipes again. The water stopped. “Go ahead and wash up,” she
said. “I’ll see if I can find something for you to wear.”

Iren shifted the sliding
walls to give himself some privacy. Undressing, he slipped into the hot water.
He sighed in contentment.

While he soaked, he
could hear Hana rooting around in the room. “Say, Hana,” he said, “I was
wondering if you could tell me a little more about Hiabi. Walking through the
city made me realize I don’t know anything about this place.”

“What would you like to
know?” Hana asked. Her voice was muffled, like she had her head in a closet.

Iren thought for a
moment. “What else can you tell me about this Melwar guy who’s in charge here?”

Hana didn’t respond, and
a moment later it hit Iren why. “Right,” he said, cringing. “What do you know
about Lord Melwar?”

“Lord Melwar has
overseen Hiabi for more than a thousand years. It and Shikari are the ancestral
lands of his clan. His family has ruled here for millennia.”

“They’ve done a good
job,” Iren said, “if the number of people in the city is any sign. I never
would have guessed there were so many Maantecs left. Rondel told me our species
was almost wiped out.”

“Not everyone here was
born in Shikari. After the war Lord Melwar opened his lands to all Maantecs. He
wanted Shikari to be a place where we could live apart from the other races.”
Hana paused. “Aha! This will be perfect for you!”

Iren was a little
concerned about what she had found, but the bath made him so relaxed it didn’t
bother him much. On a nearby shelf, he located a washcloth and soap. “How will
I speak with Lord Melwar?” he asked as he scrubbed. He couldn’t believe all the
dirt that came off him. “You’ve taught me a little Maantec, but it’s not enough
to carry on a conversation.”

“Don’t worry about
that,” Hana said. “Lord Melwar’s traveled all of Raa and knows every language
spoken on it. I’ve heard you could blindfold him and drop him anywhere on the continent,
and he could find his way back to Hiabi unaided.”

“He sounds like a great
man,” Iren said. “I’m looking forward to meeting him.”

“I’m glad. Lord Melwar
is looking forward to meeting you as well.”

Iren was washing his
leg, but he stopped midstroke. “What do you mean? How could he even know who I
am?”

Hana didn’t answer. Iren
was about to press her to explain, but then without warning, she pulled open
the sliding wall and exposed him. Iren flushed as Hana looked over his naked
body. He thought he sensed appreciation from her.

She confirmed that
suspicion a moment later when she offered him a white towel with a cocked
eyebrow and a smirk. Iren’s blush deepened. He climbed out of the tub, yanked
away the towel, and hastily wrapped himself in it.

Without a word, Hana
grabbed a second towel and began to dry him. As her hands rubbed against his
chest, Iren’s pulse quickened. This close, he was keenly aware of Hana’s soft
hair, the smooth lines of her face, and her full breasts that swelled even with
her flowing kimono.

“You know, Iren, my room
is right next to yours,” Hana whispered. “I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of
each other during our time here.”

Iren gulped. “Let’s just
focus on getting ready for dinner,” he said. His voice sounded high and
strained.

“As you wish,” she replied,
and just like that, the moment ended. Hana hung her towel on a rack next to the
tub. She then handed Iren an armful of clothes. “These should be your size.”

Iren shifted nervously.
Hana rolled her eyes and turned away.

Watching Hana for any
sign of peeping, Iren removed his towel and dressed himself. Maantec clothing
would take some getting used to. The undergarment looked like a diaper, and he
felt extremely awkward putting it on. The trousers—if they could even be called
that—weren’t much better. They were gray, pleated, and so baggy that Iren could
have sworn he was wearing a skirt.

Hana had given him two
shirts, the first a white undershirt and the second sky blue with a long v-shaped
cut in the front. The blue shirt’s back bore a white stylized image of a
serpentine dragon that filled most of the space.

For Iren’s feet, Hana
had selected a pair of gray socks with a notch between his second and third toes.
A broad white sash completed the ensemble. Iren tucked the Muryozaki into it.

“What do you think?”
Hana asked without turning around.

Iren walked forward so she
could see him. “I look like a girl,” he grumbled, pulling at his trousers.

Hana laughed. “In Lodia,
maybe,” she replied. “Here you look like a true lord.”

“‘Look’ does sound like
the right way to put it,” he said.

“Like I said before,
just do what I do, and you probably won’t die.”

“Grand.”

“Keep remarks like that
to yourself in front of Lord Melwar,” Hana cautioned as she headed for the
door.

Iren followed her for a
few steps. Then he stopped and looked behind him at the tub and his pile of
Lodian clothes.

“Why are you dallying?”
Hana asked. “Lord Melwar is not a man to keep waiting.”

“Hana, I . . .”
he paused, unsure what to say. “I want to thank you. I’m totally lost here. I
don’t know what will happen with Lord Melwar, but I hope you’ll keep helping me
while we’re here.”

A sly smile played
across her lips. “Of course,” she said, “anything you need.”

The socks were the most
irritating part of the outfit, Iren decided as he and Hana walked through the
halls of Hiabi Castle. The material between his toes itched, and he fidgeted in
a vain attempt to make the socks more comfortable.

He still wasn’t used to
them by the time he and Hana arrived at a door where she said, “Remember, mimic
me and don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

Iren rolled his eyes. He
wondered how many times she was going to give him the same advice.

Hana slid open the door
and entered. She took two steps inside and prostrated herself on the floor.
Iren followed and copied her.

The prostrated position
created two problems. First, it left Iren unable to know what was happening.
Second, and more important, he couldn’t see Hana, so he had no idea if he was
mimicking her.

Fortunately, Iren had
only lain on the floor a few seconds before a male voice said, “Enough of that.
You two are guests, not servants. Rise.”

Iren lifted his head a
sliver, just enough to see Hana out of the corner of his eye. When she stood,
he got up as well and took in the room. It was large, three times the size of
the one provided to him. Candles on sconces lit the walls, while coal-filled
braziers illuminated and heated the center. Like Iren’s room, straw mats
covered the floor, and there was almost no furniture.

The sole exception was a
high-backed chair on a dais at the room’s far end. Carvings of serpentine
dragons wound around its dark wood.

A man sat on the chair,
and Iren assumed that man was Melwar. He looked in his mid-thirties, making
Iren wonder what spell he must have cast to use some of his biological magic.
His hair was black, and like most of the other Maantecs Iren had seen while
walking through Hiabi, he had it tied in a topknot. In dress he wore much the
same as Iren, but his outer shirt was a deep purple. Two circular crests
adorned its front, each below one shoulder and depicting a mountain.

“Hana,” Melwar said, his
voice formal and filling the space, “it has been too long. It is good to see
you once more in Hiabi.”

Hana bowed low. “Thank
you, Lord Melwar.”

Melwar then faced Iren.
“And to you, Iren Saitosan, Holy Dragon Knight, I bid you welcome to my humble
city and home.”

Iren started at the
direct address. He figured he should say something in return, but his mind
blanked.

A bell rang in the
distance, and Melwar clapped his hands. “Well, we shall have more time for
conversation later. Let us eat.”

The Maantec lord stepped
off his dais and came down to meet them. As if on cue, the room’s sliding door
opened, and a virtual troop of servants entered with trays of food. Iren glanced
around, confused. There were neither tables nor chairs. He wondered if Maantecs
ate off the floor.

He wasn’t far off. The
servants set small wooden trays with foot-high legs in front of Iren, Hana, and
Melwar. The other two Maantecs knelt and sat on their feet so that their knees
stopped just shy of the trays. Hana gave Iren a sharp look when he remained
standing, so he knelt as well.

The servants next placed
on each tray a bowl filled with white rice and a plate of fish and vegetables
cooked in brown sauce. The only utensils were a pair of sticks the length of
Iren’s forearm that sat on the far end of his tray.

Iren examined his food
with a mix of longing and disgust. It looked delicious, and the smell coming
off it was impressive. That said, he had no idea how he was supposed to eat
with sticks.

He looked at Hana for
guidance. She picked up her sticks and held them between the fingers of her
left hand. She then deftly plucked a chunk of yam off her plate, dipped it in
the rice, and popped the whole thing in her mouth. Melwar did the same.

The technique seemed
simple enough. Keeping an eye on Hana, Iren picked up his sticks.

The piece of fish he
grabbed lifted half an inch before it split and fell in two pieces back to the
plate. He tried again with a radish slice, hoping it would be firmer, but it
too dropped. The sticks clacked together.

Across from Iren, Melwar
stopped eating. “You have never used chopsticks?” he asked.

Iren flushed. “No,” he
said, more curtly than he’d intended. He quickly followed up with, “Lord
Melwar.”

Melwar shrugged. “Well,
you did grow up in Lodia. They are so uncivilized up there. We will have to
teach you. It does take a little practice.”

“I look forward to it,”
Iren said. He forced a smile.

“You are a poor liar,”
the Maantec lord replied.

With that, Melwar
resumed eating. Iren resumed picking up and dropping his food with increasingly
loud and frustrating
plops
.

Though the food was
beyond him, drinking proved simpler. On each tray the servants set a tall,
narrow, ceramic vessel along with a short, broad cup. Iren saw how Hana poured
and drank hers, then followed her. The liquid was warm, and it burned going
down. Iren wondered if it was alcoholic. It made him think of Rondel. She would
know.

Concerned that he might
make a fatal mistake of etiquette if he drank too much, Iren kept to sips.
Meanwhile, he was improving with his chopsticks. After ten minutes, he got his
first bite into his mouth. It had long since become cold, but he counted it a
victory.

After that he managed
better, though Melwar and Hana had to wait several minutes while he finished.
The servants returned and cleared the trays with silent efficiency.

When it was just the
three of them in the room again, Melwar said, “I must apologize to you, Iren.
Neither Hana nor I have been honest with you.”

Iren glanced at Hana,
but her face revealed nothing. He turned back to Melwar. “I’m uncertain what
you mean.”

“Even in this remote
place, we have our information sources. You are more famous than you know.
After all, you became the Dragoon.”

“You know about my fight
with Amroth and Feng?”

“The release of a dragon
and the coming of the Dragoon are rare events. The first has only happened a
handful of times, and no Dragon Knight before you has ever succeeded in the
Dragoon transformation. When I learned of those events, I sent Hana to find
you, gain your trust, and bring you here.”

Iren whipped to face
Hana. “So it wasn’t coincidence that you rescued Balear and me in Orcsthia. You
were waiting for us.”

“Not exactly,” Hana said.
“I knew from accounts of the Battle of Ziorsecth that you’d stayed in the
forest, and I dared not enter that place to follow you. But I figured that if
you ever left there, you would do so through Lodia. With the Yuushin Sea to the
south, Serona to the west, and frozen Charda to the north, it was your only
option. I did gamble that you would go south via Orcsthia rather than north via
Caardit, but Caardit’s pretty remote to be a logical stopping point.”

Iren thought back to his
first few hours with Hana. “I guess that means the story you told about your
parents’ farm was a lie.”

Hana shook her head and
sighed. “No. That farm did belong to my parents, and Lodian raiders did kill
them as part of the civil war. What I kept hidden, though, was that I had left
home a long time ago, years before you were born. I never saw my parents alive
after that. Still, I knew the farm was there, and it made a convincing cover.
That’s why I used it.”

“But why cover up your
identity at all?” Iren asked. “If your goal was to bring me here, why did you
travel across Lodia with Balear and me? As the Stone Dragon Knight, you could
have kidnapped me the minute we left Orcsthia.”

Hana opened her mouth,
but Melwar interrupted, “It was vital for her to gain your trust, and for you
to come with her willingly. Had we forced you to come here, you would never
have listened to my proposal.”

“Proposal?” Iren asked.
“What kind of proposal is so important that you have to go through all this
maneuvering?”

Melwar’s face grew
somber. “When you came to Hiabi, no doubt the number of Maantecs here surprised
you. My ancestors’ land has become a haven for our kind, but it is far from
ideal. To reach us, Maantecs must either brave a journey through Aokigahara
Rainforest, or they must sail along the coast through the worst storms our
world experiences. I lack perfect information, but I would guess that more than
half of all Maantecs who attempt to come here die along the way.”

The color drained from
Iren’s face. For all the thousands of Maantecs he’d seen in the city, thousands
more had died trying to get here.

“I have long hoped that
someday, our people will not need to make such a trek,” Melwar continued.
“Right now they do so because they have no choice. If they are discovered in
any other nation, they are considered demons. I wish to change that. I want to
see a Maantec emperor restored. Such a man could speak for all of us, treat
with other nations, and find a way for Maantecs and other races to live in
peace.”

“Hold on,” Iren said,
“you can’t mean . . . me?”

“Traditionally, the Holy
Dragon Knight is also the Maantec emperor. No one but you can do it. I am
master of Shikari, but beyond it I have no authority. Besides, who better to
lead us than the man who became the Dragoon?”

Iren felt like he might
pass out. When he’d left Lodia with Hana, he’d never expected anything like
this. He’d thought he was coming here to regain his magic. Emperor of the
Maantecs? It was impossible. He was no leader. For most of his life, people had
shunned and hated him. He couldn’t do it.

And yet . . .

If the Maantecs united,
he could leverage that strength to get other nations to treat with him. He
could end Lodia’s civil war by backing whichever mayor seemed best. The Kodamas
might even make peace with their ancient foes. After all, Minawë was their
queen.

Iren stood and steeled
himself. “I’m no politician,” he said. “I’m certainly no diplomat. I’ll need a
lot of help.”

Melwar smiled and rose
as well. “I have led both Hiabi and Shikari in peace for a thousand years,” he
said. “What small experience I have, I am happy to share with you.”

“Great,” Iren said. “So
how do I become the emperor? Is there some kind of ceremony?”

The Maantec lord
scowled. “You think it will be that easy? Do you think the Maantecs will just
accept you? I know you became the Dragoon, but others will not have heard that
tale or will not believe it. They will demand proof of your abilities. They
will expect you to heal the sick and battle enemies with magic.”

Iren winced at Melwar’s
final word. There it was again. If only he could use magic, he could become the
Maantec emperor. He could end Lodia’s civil war. He could create peace between
Kodamas and Maantecs.

“That’s a problem,” Iren
admitted. “I can’t use magic anymore.”

“As I feared,” Melwar
replied. He put his thumb and index finger to his forehead. “When I heard you
had become the Dragoon, I suspected that might happen.”

“That’s why I journeyed
all this way,” Iren said. “Hana told me you were her teacher, and that you were
the most knowledgeable Maantec when it came to magic. Can you teach me how to
use it again?”

“It is not a matter of
education,” Melwar said. “It is an anomaly in your body.”

“Then can you heal it?”

The Maantec lord shook
his head. “No one can heal you.”

Iren’s hands fell to his
sides. His gaze dropped to the floor. “Then this trip was pointless. I’ll never
use magic again.”

“No one can heal you,”
Melwar repeated, ignoring Iren’s outburst, “because you are not injured.”

“Of course I’m injured!”
Iren cried. “Maantecs are magical beings. Everything here, even taking a bath,
requires it. How can I not be injured?”

“Do you know why you
cannot use magic?”

What did that have to do
with anything? Iren opened his mouth to tell off the annoying man for not
getting to the point when Hana jumped up and shot him a panicked look. Forcing down
his frustration, he said, “The Dragoon’s magic was too powerful. It could have
killed me, so my body sealed off my magic to prevent me from doing it again.”

Melwar nodded. “Correct,
and that is why I cannot heal you. What you have is not an injury, but a magical
wall constructed by your body.”

“But if I’m not injured,
is there any way to get my magic back?”

The Maantec lord smiled,
but it wasn’t a pleasant expression. “It is only a wall,” he said. “You can
knock it down.”

Melwar’s simple
description made Iren’s heart skip. If this barrier was all that stood between
him and his magic, he’d have Divinion back, become the Maantec emperor, and
return to Lodia in a matter of days.

Melwar must have seen
his excitement, because the Maantec lord said, “Do not think it will be easy.
Or safe. Your body created that barrier to protect you. It did not make it to
be removed. You could die.”

Iren set his jaw. “Just
tell me what I need to do.”

“Very well,” Melwar
said. “Defend yourself.”

“Wha—” Iren began, but
then Melwar’s stance changed. Though he was unarmed, the Maantec lord’s hand
went to his sash as though grasping at a hilt. A shadow grew at the spot, and
from it Melwar pulled a long, black blade. It shifted and twisted as he held it
aloft, as though it were as insubstantial as smoke.

Iren had never seen a
spell like that before, but something told him it was more dangerous than it
appeared. He drew the Muryozaki. Whatever that bizarre sword was, Melwar’s
touching it meant that he intended to attack.

Hana’s hands went to her
mouth, and in that instant of distraction, Melwar struck. He slashed
horizontally, but his attack was slow. Iren raised the Muryozaki to block with
plenty of time to spare.