The Veiled Dragon (19 page)

open mouths voicing screams the witch could not hear. Some of the men held their ears and some covered their eyes, but they all remained too stunned to do more than writhe in pain. The oil lamp she had used for her spell was gone, leaving a huge sooty smudge above the sconce where it had hung, but neither the wall nor the ceiling had suffered any material damage from the detonation. Ruha searched for Wei Dao’s form at the head of the column, weighing the wisdom of wading through the tangle of bodies to retrieve her late husband’s jambiya from the princess. Unfortunately, the witch could not be sure how soon her captors would begin recovering from their shock. The effects would normally last long enough for her to run an eighth league, but she had no way to tell how long she herself had been incapacitated. Besides, there were a dozen more guards at the entrance to the dungeon, and it would not be long before they arrived to investigate the detonation. Ruha pulled a dagger from a soldier’s belt, then stepped over him and three other quivering men and started down the left-hand corridor. As she moved, the witch kept a careful watch on the floor, stopping to pry out any pebbles lodged between bricks. It took only a few moments to fill her hand, for even the tidy Shou could not keep from tracking tiny stones inside, and it hardly seemed worth the effort to scrape them from the seams of a dungeon floor. The witch glanced back down the corridor. Although Wei Dao had not entirely recovered from her shock, she had risen and was picking her way down the corridor. The princess’s eyes had the blank, inert stare of sightlessness, and she was moving her open hands in front of her body in an ever changing pattern of circular motions. Ruha found her pursuer’s determination more than a little alarming; only a very good fighter would feel confident enough to carry the battle to a foe while both blind and deaf. Ruha shook her pebbles and uttered the incantation of

a sand spell. The stones began to oscillate in her palm, scrubbing off two layers of skin before she could hurl them at the ceiling. They struck in a circle as broad as her shoulders and continued to vibrate, much too fast for the eye to follow. She heard a faint drone above the ringing in her ears, and a steady shower of powdered wood rained down on her shoulders. The witch hiked up the hem of her aba, then pressed her hands and feet against opposite walls and began to chimney up the walls of the corridor. Ruha had climbed about ten feet when Wei Dao passed beneath her, still circling her hands before her body and staring vacantly ahead. The drone of the sand spell must have been loud enough for the princess to hear, for she stopped directly beneath the scouring pebbles and cocked her head. She turned her palm up to catch some of the powdered wood raining down her, then seemed to guess what was happening and started after the witch. Ruha climbed to the ceiling and waited beside her circle of buzzing pebbles. The stones had dug a deep labyrinth of wormy grooves into the wood, and it would not be much longer before they scoured clear through. Already, islands of plank were trembling as though they would fall at any moment, but the witch did not dare reach up to pull them loose. The whirling pebbles would take her fingers off. A short distance below, Wei Dao had nearly climbed within arm’s reach. She carried Ruh&’s jambiya clenched between her teeth, and her blinking, squinting eyes were fixed vaguely on the hem of the witch’s aba. Down the corridor, the guards were beginning to rise and rub their heads. Deciding to attack before they gathered their wits, Ruha pulled a foot away from the wall and thrust it at the princess’s head. Wei Dao continued to squint until the approaching kick had nearly reached her face

then she calmly slipped the blow by looking away and allowing the witch’s heel to glance off her brow. Instantly, the

princess’s hand snapped back, smashing the hard bone of her wrist into the tendons of Ruha’s ankle. A sharp, tingling pain shot up the witch’s shin, and her leg went numb below the knee. As Ruha tried to pull her foot back, Wei Dao trapped the witch’s ankle in the crook of her elbow, then locked it in place by clasping her hand against the back of her neck. She pulled her legs away from the walls and dropped, already raising her free hand toward thejambiya between her teeth. The witch pushed against the walls with all her might, barely keeping herself from falling to the floor when Wei Dao’s weight hit the end other dangling leg. From behind Ruha, barely audible over the ebbing roar inside her head, came the muted clamor of the guards gathering themselves up to help the princess. Wei Dao took thejambiya from between her teeth. Ruha swung her second leg away from the wall and smashed her heel into the back other foe’s skull. Wei Dao’s head snapped forward; then the knife slipped from her hand and her body went limp. The princess dropped a man’s height to the floor, landing in the semi-rigid heap of someone caught halfway between consciousness and unconsciousness. A pair of guards appeared beside her immediately. Ruha looked up and saw light shining through the grooved planks above her head. The pebbles were gone, having eaten all the way through the wood. The witch did not wait to see if the soldiers below would attack her or tend to their mistress. She braced her good foot against the wall—the leg that Wei Dao had struck was too numb to trust—then made a fist and punched it through the boards above her head. The wood fell apart easily, and she had no trouble widening the hole until she came to a solid edge. The witch grabbed hold and glanced down to see several guards climbing after her. Although Ruha did not know any wood magic, she sprinkled a handful of decaying wood on their heads and

muttered a few mystic-sounding syllables. That was enough to make them drop back into the corridor and scurry for cover. Having bought herself more time, the witch pushed her second hand through the hole—then gasped as her wrists were seized from above by a pair of small, callused hands. Without bothering to tear away what remained of the weakened planks, her unseen captor pulled her up through the floor. Ruha found herself standing before a blank-faced soldier dressed in Minister Hsieh’s yellow, silk-jacketed armor. She was in a fair-sized room furnished only with kneeling mats, several low tables, and bookshelves, surrounded by a dozen more of the mandarin’s guards, all with long, square-tipped swords in their hands. Along with Yu Po, Hsieh himself stood a half-dozen paces behind his guards. “When strange events occur, it seems you are always near.” Although Hsieh did not speak loudly, the ringing in Ruha’s ears had faded to the point where, with a little effort, she could understand his words. The mandarin pointed overhead, where the witch’s pebbles were scouring a fresh set of grooves into the coffered ceiling. “Please to stop magic before it ruins Princess Wei Dao’s apartment.” The man who had pulled Ruha out of the floor released her hands and stepped back, but the witch did not even consider casting a spell at the mandarin or any of his men. Although Tang had ordered his guards not to harm her, Hsieh’s soldiers had received no such instructions and would undoubtedly strike her down at the first sign of danger to their master. Ruha gestured at the ceiling and spoke a single sibilant syllable. The pebbles fell out of the air, dropping through the hole to clatter off the dungeon’s brick floor. “So much better.” Hsieh kneeled at one of the room’s low tables and waved Ruha to the other side. “Please.” Ruha allowed herself to be escorted to the table, then sat cross-legged on one of the reed mats. Although she

was not overly fond of the chairs that Heartland hosts always thrust at their visitors, she found the Shou habit of kneeling even less comfortable. Hsieh waited for her to arrange her aba and veil, and then said, “Please to explain your return to Ginger Palace. I am under impression that Vaerana Hawklyn takes me hostage to get you out.” “She came too soon.” As the witch spoke, she was frantically trying to calculate how much she should tell Hsieh about events in Elversult. Though he lacked the same reasons as Prince Tang and Wei Dao to conceal Lady Feng’s abduction, he might easily conclude that the best way to recover her was to let Cypress have what he wanted. “I had not concluded my business.” Hsieh nodded thoughtfully. “And this business—whatever it is—do you finish it now?” Ruha shook her head. “No, I was

interrupted.” Hsieh allowed himself a tiny smile, but made no remark about the interruption involving a trip to the dungeon. “Perhaps this business is something I can help you conclude.” Ruha lifted her brow. “Do you not wish to know what I am doing?” “You are spying,” Hsieh replied simply. “I have need of

spy.” After a moment’s consideration, Ruha asked, “And who am I to spy upon?” “I come to speak to Lady Feng, but she is not here.” He leaned forward and spoke so quietly that Ruha could barely make out the words. “I understand she is in Elversuit. Perhaps she dishonors Peerless Emperor of Civilized World.” Ruha frowned, confused by the mandarin’s implication and uncertain what he wanted from her. “What do you think she has done to dishonor your emperor?” The mandarin flushed and looked at the tabletop. “Perhaps she takes lover.” “A lover?” Ruha scoffed. Hsieh frowned and glanced toward his guards. “For spy, you are most imprudent.” “She is more than spy!” accused Wei Dao’s voice. The witch turned to see the princess pushing her head out of the hole in the floor. Her hair was disheveled and there was a red mark on her brow where Ruha’s heel had glanced off, but otherwise she showed little sign of their battle. Wei Dao allowed two of Hsieh’s men to help her into the room, then pulled Ruha’s jambiya from her sash and pointed the curved blade at the witch. “Lady Ruha is insidious assassin!” The accusation caused several of the guards to reach for the witch, but Hsieh raised a finger and waved them off. “If Lady Ruha wishes me dead, she has many chances better than this to attack.” Ruha inclined her head to the minister. “I am grateful—” Hsieh warned her off with a scowl and quick shake of his head. “Must wait for princess. To Shou, form is all.” The mandarin looked at Wei Dao, then gestured at one of the mats beside their table. “Please.” The princess slipped the jambiya into her sash, then took several moments to straighten her hair and collect herself. For a time, Ruha thought she might be stalling until her own guards entered the room, but no one climbed into the room after her, nor did Hsieh’s men give any indication that they expected—or would welcome—any of the princess’s soldiers to join them. At last, Wei Dao came to the table and bowed to Hsieh, then calmly kneeled on a mat beside Ruha as though she had not just accused the witch of being a murderess. “Esteemed Mandarin, please to forgive Prince and me.” By the continuing blare of Wei Dao’s voice, it was clear that her ears were suffering from the detonation even more than Ruha’s. “We do not tell you all.” “Then do so now—more quietly,” Hsieh urged. Wei Dao kept her eyes lowered, “Lady Feng does not visit sick friend in Elversult.” Hsieh barely kept from smirking. “Truly?” “Truly. Prince Tang learns of plan to kill Third Virtuous Concubine, and he sends her into hiding.” Wei Dao raised her chin and glared at Ruha. “Treacherous witch is assassin.” Ruha could not stomach the lie. “That is—” Hsieh waved a cautioning finger at the witch. “You ignore form. Lady Ruha.” Though his voice was stern, his face remained as blank as ever. “Please to let Princess explain why someone—presumably Vaerana Hawklyn—wishes to kill Lady Feng.” Wei Dao was ready with another lie. “To stop trade in poisons. Vaerana threatens many times to’take measures’ if we do not stop, but Honorable Husband does not let savages dictate business of Ginger Palace.” “How wise.” Hsieh’s tone was as flat as his expression was blank. Wei Dao continued, “After we must exchange witch for person of Esteemed Minister, we think she give up and leave—then we find her hiding in ylang blossoms.” The princess peered at Ruha from the corner of her eye. “She is most resolute killer.” Hsieh nodded sagely. “Most.” “We are taking her to Chamber of One Thousand Deaths when she makes lamp explode and escapes again,” Wei Dao continued. “Please to lend me sword. I promise Honorable Husband that I kill barbarian before he returns with Virtuous Mother.” Yu Po immediately reached for his sword, but Minister Hsieh quickly raised a hand to restrain him. The adjutant’s jaw fell slack, as did those of several guards. “Do you not wish to hear what Lady Ruha says?” Hsieh asked. Yu Po and the guards glanced at each other as though the thought had never crossed their minds. “But Lady Ruha is barbarian!” Yu Po gasped. “Princess Dao is wife of son of Third Virtuous Concubine.” Hsieh nodded as though he were in complete agreement with his adjutant, then bit his lips as though struggling with a difficult decision. “What you say is most true. It does not matter that Lady Ruha saves our lives when dragon attacks Ginger Lady.” The mandarin allowed his gaze to linger on Wei Dao, who took several quiet breaths and tried not to look concerned as the color drained from her face. “If Shou princess claims barbarian witch intends to kill Lady Feng, then we must believe her.” Hsieh continued to glare at the princess. “If she feels certain we understand her correctly—and if she is certain she says what she means.” Wei Dao’s painted lips began to quiver, but she did not look away from Hsieh’s penetrating gaze. “I

I am certain.” Yu Po placed a hand on the hilt of his sword, but cast a questioning look at Hsieh and stopped short of drawing it. The mandarin remained as motionless as a statue and continued to glare at Wei Dao. Ruha hardly dared to breathe. She did not understand all the nuances of the exchange, but it seemed clear enough that the minister was trying to save her life—whether because he wished to repay her or because he needed a spy, she did not know. It hardly mattered, and the witch sensed that even the slightest movement on her part might well bring the contest to an unfavorable end. As frightened as Wei Dao appeared, it was Hsieh who looked away first. “It appears the princess is most confident of herself.” Yu Po drew his sword. Before Ruha could summon the incantation of even a simple spell to mind, two guards grabbed her arms and pushed her forward, laying her head flat upon the table. The witch uttered a silent prayer, begging the forgiveness of Lander, her dead lover, for failing as a Harper, then took her last breath and prepared to die. The blow did not fall. After a time, Ruha opened her eyes—she did not remember closing them—and craned