The Hearts of Dragons (18 page)

Rondel could barely keep
her feet. As usual, though, the bullheaded Narunë was oblivious to her plight.
Well, maybe what she had to tell him next would get his attention.

“Otunë’s dead,” she
said. “He has been for a thousand years.”

The smile on Narunë’s
face faded, and a pensive look replaced it. “I guess that strange disease got
him.”

“Disease?”

“During the war, my
brother ordered me to take my division and attack Shikari. We were supposed to
be a rear guard assault to take out Saito’s reserve supplies. Had we succeeded,
the Maantecs wouldn’t have been able to continue. We were set to invade, but
when my first group of soldiers left the jungle, they died. I don’t know why. After
that day, though, the rest of us never dared to leave Aokigahara.”

“So that’s why no one’s
heard from you,” Rondel said. “Narunë, what happened to you was no disease.
When we invaded Serona, Iren Saito cast a curse. It killed all the Kodaman
fighters, including your brother.”

Narunë scowled. “So
Saito won the war.”

“No, he’s dead too, and
I can’t say that anybody won that war. After the battle in Serona, the fighting
stopped. There were no leaders on either side, and even had there been, there
was almost no one left to fight.”

The tattooed Kodama
walked to the edge of the platform and sat down. His feet dangled over the
edge. “I always figured I’d die first. Otunë was so calm, and I’ve never met a
more powerful Dragon Knight. I can’t believe he’s gone.”

Rondel winced. She had
meant to startle Narunë, not send him into a melancholy.

To change the subject,
she looked at Minawë, who had a shocked expression. Rondel smiled. “I take it
you’ve figured out who Narunë is.”

Minawë shook her head back
and forth as though clearing some mental fog. “You’re my uncle, aren’t you?”

Her voice had the effect
Rondel had hoped for. Narunë leapt to his feet and grinned. He never could stay
depressed for long. “That’s right,” he said. He studied his niece. “So you’re
Minawë. That’s a good name. It’s kingly. Though I guess that’s weird,
considering you’re a girl!” He loosed his bellowing laugh.

“Kingly?” Minawë asked.

“Nawë was an ancestor of
your father’s,” Rondel explained. “Narunë, he was, what, your great-grandfather?”

The big Kodama waved her
off. “You think I can remember such things? Please, all I care about is that
he’s the most famous Kodaman leader ever, even better than my brother. If
you’re named after him, you have a lot to live up to.”

Narunë laughed and
closed his right eye again, and that was when Rondel caught it. She knew that
grin from centuries of doing it herself. It was too broad. Narunë knew. He was
playing the fool, but he had figured out Rondel’s secret.

She had to get him away
from Minawë before he let anything slip. If the girl ever found out the truth,
she would hate Rondel forever.

Before Rondel could
think of a plan, though, Narunë said, “I’ve been a terrible host. Rondel, you
look like a jaguar mauled you. Our healer can put you back together. As for
you, my niece, I offer you my own home, the best tree house in the city. The
guard at the base of this tree can show you the way. Oh, and I suppose I’d
better give this back to you.” He handed her the Forest Dragon Bow.

Rondel suppressed a
smile. Narunë was Otunë’s brother, after all. It didn’t surprise her that he
had come up with a way to have a private conversation with Rondel before she
had.

They all headed down the
rope ladder, and Minawë left with the guard for Narunë’s house. Narunë in turn
led Rondel to a tree several hundred yards in the opposite direction.

Unlike the guard
platform, this tree had a full building constructed within its canopy, as well
as a pulley system to raise and lower visitors in a basket. “The trees here
aren’t thick enough to make homes inside them like in Ziorsecth,” Narunë said,
“so we adapted.”

They climbed into the
basket. Narunë tugged on a rope, and a few seconds later they lifted off the
ground.

The tree house’s
construction was impressive; Rondel had to give it that. It was so organic that
she had difficulty spotting the built parts through the curtain of wide jungle
leaves. Though not as inconspicuous as a Ziorsecthan home, it came closer than
she would have expected.

When the basket stopped,
Rondel and Narunë were inside a large, open room made of wood. Curtains of
leaves divided the space into sections. Pained moans echoed throughout it.

“Welcome to our
hospital,” Narunë said, his voice grim. “It isn’t normally this crowded, but,
well, we’ve had some unusual times lately.”

A male Kodama dressed
all in white came up to them. “Lord Narunë, how may I help you?”

“This woman needs
treatment,” Narunë said, “somewhere private.”

The healer examined
Rondel. “You’re a Maantec,” he spat.

“And a guest in this
village,” Narunë added before Rondel could loose the sarcastic comment on her
tongue. “Treat her as one of us. No, treat her as a war hero.”

That set the healer
aback, but with a frown he said, “This way.”

The healer escorted them
to a separate room in the back of the tree house, walled off by thick wood on
all sides. “We designed this room for high-ranking patients,” the healer said.
“We made it soundproof so they could discuss matters of state while in
treatment. It hasn’t seen much use for that, but—”

“It will serve,” Narunë
interrupted. “Now excuse us. I’ll be along shortly. When I’m gone, I expect you
to give this woman your utmost attention. I want her healed as quickly as
possible.”

To his credit, the man
hesitated only briefly before saying, “Of course, Lord Narunë.”

When they were alone,
Narunë dropped his false smile in favor of a scowl. “Now,” he said, “tell me
what you’re really doing here.”

“We’re going to
Shikari,” Rondel replied. “A friend of ours was kidnapped, and we think he’s
being held there.”

Narunë twirled the
broken Liryometa in his hand, but he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was
studying Rondel’s face. “I see,” he said at length. “That isn’t the answer I
was hoping for. Rondel, I can’t let you go to Shikari.”

Rondel blinked twice.
“You what?” she asked. “I thought you were my friend. How can that be your
answer?”

He held up a hand. “I am
your friend, and under normal circumstances, I’d have no problem helping you.
At the moment, though, I have a greater concern.”

“And that would be?”

“This jungle has more
than animals in it. There are Yokai here too.”

Rondel frowned.
Thousands of years ago, the Tengu had pushed the Yokai out of the Eregos
Mountains, and most of the monsters had gone south. She hadn’t realized they
were still alive. That said, a few Yokai shouldn’t pose a problem for battle-hardened
Kodamas, and she told Narunë as much.

The burly Kodama huffed.
“We’ve held them in check for a thousand years, despite their superior numbers.
But in the past few months, the balance of power has changed. Out of nowhere,
their Oni leader, Azar, somehow became the Fire Dragon Knight.”

A wave of pain radiated
from Rondel’s left hand. For a moment she was back in the scorched fields of
Serona, watching Hana take the Burning Ruby. “That can’t be,” she murmured.

“Tell that to the
Kodamas lying wounded out there. Azar did that to them. They aren’t the only
ones, either. I’ve lost a hundred of my best fighters to him already. We can’t
compete with the Karyozaki, so I’ve ordered my patrols back to the village. The
ones who brought you in last night were some of the last.”

Rondel clenched her
fist. Hana didn’t have the knowledge to reforge the Fire Dragon Sword, but
Melwar did. Hana must have taken the Burning Ruby to Melwar before she went to
find Iren. Why Melwar had reforged the Karyozaki, though, and why he had given
it to an Oni instead of one of his own men, were questions Rondel couldn’t
answer.

“So you see, it’s simply
too dangerous to cross Aokigahara at the moment,” Narunë said. He smiled slyly.
“Of course, if Azar were dealt with, that might change the situation.”

Rondel had been trying
to guess Narunë’s game ever since the platform, and now she saw it. “You don’t
have to be so roundabout,” she said. “I know a quid pro quo when I see one. I
get rid of this Oni, and you’ll help me and Minawë reach Shikari.”

“Well put.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You already know the
answer to that.” His smirk deepened as he leaned in and whispered, “It only
took me a few seconds, you know. As soon as I saw her, I knew. She’ll be
staying in my home. We’ll have days to talk. Who knows what we might discuss?”

So that was how it was. “Understood,”
Rondel said. “In exchange for your silence and your help getting to Shikari,
I’ll kill Azar for you. Now give me back my Liryometa.”

Narunë held the broken
dagger aloft. “What, this piece of garbage? It won’t do you any good like this.
I have a smith from the war days. I’ll let him take a look at it. Who knows?
Maybe he’ll come up with something.”

Rondel sighed in
resignation. She wanted to believe the Kodamas could fix the rondel, but she
doubted Narunë’s smith would know what to do with it. And without the
Liryometa, Rondel had little confidence she could win against the Fire Dragon
Knight.

That settled it. She
couldn’t afford to die here, not with Iren still in Melwar’s hands. Forget
Narunë. Forget Azar. Forget even the Liryometa. She would look for an
opportunity to escape the hospital, find Minawë, and get out of this settlement
undetected. “Narunë, I’m a tired old woman,” she said. “Please leave me. I need
to rest.”

The faintest dimples
sprouted on Narunë’s face. “Of course. Sleep well. I’ll check in on you later.”
He walked to the door.

He was about to open it
when he looked back at her. “A word of caution: don’t leave the hospital,” he
said. “The healer and I know you aren’t a threat, but the rest of the Kodamas,
well . . .” Narunë smiled again, that fake yet cunning grin so
much like Rondel’s. “Let’s just say I hope there won’t be any unfortunate
accidents.”

Narunë left. Rondel lay
on the bed, sleep failing her even though she needed it. She was irritated, as
much with herself as with Narunë. The two of them might be old friends, but
this time the man had outplayed her. She had no choice but to pursue Azar. If
she tried to run, she’d be seen as an enemy and attacked. Even if she escaped,
she couldn’t complete her mission in Shikari without Minawë or the Liryometa,
both of which she now had no idea where they were. Worst of all, if she showed
any sign of becoming uncooperative, Narunë would tell Minawë the secret Rondel
had kept from her for a thousand years.

Through her frustration,
Rondel had to admit a begrudging admiration. Not only had Narunë trapped her
perfectly with only a few minutes’ preparation, he’d done it without Minawë
ever suspecting and without Rondel being able to say anything against him. He
really was Otunë’s brother.

It was after sundown by
the time Iren recovered enough to leave the training garden. He headed to his
room, his body still aching. He supposed he should order some food from the
kitchens, but he wasn’t hungry. All he wanted at the moment was a long, long
rest.

When Iren entered his
room, he found its candles lit and his futon set up. His lips pursed. He knew
he’d packed up the futon before meeting Hana and Melwar this morning. It was
another crazy Maantec rule. Beds were for sleeping. They weren’t to be left out
and create a messy appearance.

Considering how tired he
was, though, Iren wasn’t about to second-guess it. Melwar had probably ordered
one of his servants to prepare the room in advance.

Iren removed his sweat-soaked
kimono and stood naked in the room. He wished he could have bathed, but the
cedar tub was useless to someone without magic. He walked over to it anyway to
get a towel and wipe off the sweat that yet clung to him.

The tub was full. Iren
dipped his hand in it; the water was hot.

Iren’s eyes circled back
on the room, now on alert. The futon he could understand, but the tub was too
much. Not even Melwar could have the foresight to have a servant draw a bath
with such precise timing. This water couldn’t have entered the tub more than
half an hour ago.

All the same, Iren
doubted the tub was part of any unfriendly scheme. He slipped into the bath and
sighed.

After a long soak and a
scrubbing so harsh it left his body red, Iren reluctantly left the water,
opened the tub’s drain, and dried off. From a nearby closet he retrieved a
loose-fitting white robe, traditional Maantec sleepwear. He put it on and walked
to his futon to settle in.

He’d just pulled the
blankets back when a voice from behind him said, “Did you like my surprise?”

Iren whipped around.
Hana stepped out from behind a set of sliding walls. The dim candlelight
reflected off her white sleeping gown and gave her a glowing complexion. Her
black hair hung in loose tumbles over her shoulders.

“Hana!” Iren yelped.
“What is all this? What are you doing here?”

She approached him. Her
scent, a perfume made from cherry blossoms, filled Iren’s nose. “What’s the
matter?” she asked with mock timidity. “Don’t you want me here? Do you want me
to leave?”

Iren’s heart pounded.
She was standing too close. It made him uncomfortable, and he wanted to ask her
to return to her room. Instead, through rapid breathing, he said, “No, of
course not. You just caught me off guard.”

“It wouldn’t be much of
a surprise otherwise.”

Everything about this
felt wrong. Iren stepped back, but Hana followed him. He decided to try a
distraction. “I read the first sentence of the diary,” he said. “It isn’t by my
father after all. It’s by Iren Saito.”

“I know that,” she said.
Her lips were inches from his face. His head tingled when her breath brushed
against his hair.

“So,” he pressed on,
struggling to keep his composure, “we don’t need to continue our lessons. You
can go and do whatever you’d like.”

The wicked smile she
flashed instantly made him regret what he’d said. “No, wait,” he stammered, “I
didn’t mean—”

She put a finger to his
lips. “It’s all right,” she said. “I understand. But my purpose here is to
teach you about Maantec culture. I’ve helped you with the language, the food,
and the dress. Even your manners have improved. If you don’t want my
instruction, that’s fine. Before we part, though, there’s one last part of
Maantec life I want to teach you.”

He gulped. “What part is
that?”

Hana looked into his
eyes. The same hunger from the garden earlier that day was back in her
expression. “I think you already know.”

Before Iren realized
what Hana was doing, she had untied the sash holding her gown together. With a
gentle shrug of her shoulders, the garment dropped to the floor. Iren opened
his mouth to tell her to stop, to say that this had gone far enough.

Then she put her lips
against his, and all thought of resistance vanished.

*   *   *

The candles were out.
Hana Akiyama lay awake in the darkness. Next to her, Iren Saitosan snored so
loudly Hana would have had difficulty falling asleep even without old memories
flooding her thoughts.

There had been no
choice. She kept telling herself that. Lord Melwar had given her specific
instructions. This was all to gain Iren’s trust, and it had worked.

At first Hana had taken
pleasure in the idea of controlling him. Even now, she smiled with the
knowledge that after tonight, Iren would trust her implicitly.

Yet as she lay there,
Hana couldn’t help but feel doubt. It was supposed to be impersonal, but from
the moment Iren had defeated her in the garden, she had looked forward to
tonight. Something about the way he’d moved resonated with her. Their contest
today had more resembled a dance than sparring. No one had ever matched her so
perfectly.

Thus she doubted
herself. She wondered if she could see her task through as Lord Melwar had
intended. She hadn’t needed to fake her pleasure tonight the way she’d planned
to do. More revolting, she was starting to pity the naïve man next to her.
After all, it was a scene not so unlike what had happened this evening that had
set Hana on the path to becoming Lord Melwar’s slave.

The memories flashed
through her. For twenty-five years she’d worked to forget them, but they never
went away. Those worthless humans in Orcsthia had almost raped her, and Rondel
had slain them.

If only the old Maantec
had taken Hana with her! How different her life would have been!

But no. Rondel had
walked into the rain, and it was barely a day later when Lord Melwar had found
Hana and recruited her. She recalled his words to her, the ones that had shaped
her into who she was.

“You cannot blame Rondel
for not taking you,” he’d said. “After all, she did not rescue you. That
happened as a result of her actions, but it was never her purpose. She came to
deliver Okthora’s Law to those fools. If she had arrived after they had
finished with you, she would have killed them and moved on exactly as she did
last night.”

“How can someone be so
heartless?” Hana had asked. Her innocence back then still sickened her.

“It is not about heart,”
Lord Melwar had explained. “People do not act out of charity. They are always
looking out for themselves and their own benefit. Even when someone gives a
gift to a friend or a coin to a beggar, it is because they are looking for
something in return, some fleeting sense of rightness. If you want to be
strong, stop looking for charity and start looking for those you can use to
gain more power.”

The way the man had
looked at her then, Hana had known Lord Melwar was one of those people. She
couldn’t have explained how she knew, but she had. “And what would you want of
me,” she’d said, “if I came with you and used you for power?”

He’d smiled at that.
“Revenge.”

That was all he’d said,
yet the word had pulsed through Hana’s body like a wave. “Teach me then,” she’d
told him. “Give me power, and I’ll give you vengeance.”