A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (12 page)

3

Jinji

~ Northmore Forest ~

Blue. There were so many shades of blue.

The deep midnight of a heart in
mourning.

The gray shadow behind closed eyes.

The hot white when they first open.

The oscillating flashes of blinks, until
it's just one bright hue against the clouds.

Jinji saw them all, lying there, staring up
through the trees because her body had forgotten how to move. Even
if she had strength left in her muscles, there was none left
anywhere else. Her spirit was spent, was broken.

So she kept watching the clouds drift, even
as her eyes began to sting and tear and dry again, she kept looking
up. Because the other option was to close them, and every time she
did, all she saw were shadows—darting between flames, circling in
blood, hiding behind big, brown eyes.

The shadow had taken everything, but it
still hunted her. In her dreams, in her sleep, even in her waking
eyes—it was always there.

Something nudged Jinji's foot, but she
didn’t stir.

Then something wet and slightly scratchy
brushed her hand.

Hot breath tickled the hairs on her arm.

Just let me be
, Jinji thought,
ignoring the sensations. She wanted to join her family in the
spirit realm, to drift away unnoticed by the world.

And she had been so close.

What happened?

And then Jinji really looked at the blue sky
above her, noticing it as if for the first time. How was she
outside? Why wasn't she still in her pallet, blanketed by the
memory of her parents and of Janu?

And that little twinge of curiosity was
enough to finally push her into movement. After days of
indifference, something had broken through the hurt.

Slowly, carefully cajoling her muscles back
to life, Jinji lifted her head and looked into two bulbous black
eyes.

She jerked back—her entire body shocked into
movement.

A very large animal was looking at her,
leaning over her, but Jinji wasn't afraid. If it had meant to hurt
her, it would have. Instead, the creature leaned its head forward,
slapping a soaked tongue against Jinji's cheek.

She rolled away, standing quickly. Blinded
from the head rush, she wobbled on unsteady feet until she felt
soft fur under her fingertips and held on for balance.

"Thank you," she whispered and opened her
eyes.

Jinji ran her hands over the soft hairs and
felt the animal sigh. At the sight of a large leather seat, Jinji
remembered what it was called—a horse. The newworlder who came to
give the children language lessons always rode one.

"Who traveled with you?" Jinji asked,
continuing to pet its neck.

The horse stomped, dipping its head in the
direction of the water. Following the line, Jinji looked along the
ground. Sure enough, she saw footsteps into the stream and out the
other side.

Large footsteps.

The footsteps of man.

Suddenly, Jinji's hands dipped to her legs,
feeling for her animal skins.

She let out a breath—they were still there.
Her eyes searched for any maltreatment, but there were no rips or
tears in her clothes, no aches in her body where there shouldn’t
be.

Her parents had warned her about males in
the new world, especially about ones who could not control their
urges. It was the reason she had never traveled to the great cities
her father spoke of—she was not allowed to until she joined, and
then Maniuk would—

No
, Jinji thought as her chest
clenched tight and her mouth dried. Maniuk would not be taking her
anywhere. Nor would her father. Or her mother. Or…

Water. I need water.

Jinji ran, fell next to the river, and
dipped her hands deep into its cooling currents, splashing her
face.

A moment later, Jinji realized the curtain
of hair normally falling over her shoulders was not there.
Goosebumps rose on her neck and she reached back, grasping the
air.

Her braid.

She had chopped it off.

The memory slowly returned as she rubbed her
fingers over the mess that remained, chopped and ripped, her own
personal battlefield.

Hesitant, she leaned over the water. It had
been so long since she had seen herself without long, flowing
locks—the sight of her face free of the frame of black would be a
shock, but she needed it.

They were gone.

Her prayer had failed and she had to face
it.

As much as she wished to fade away, to leave
this place, she had been kept alive for a reason. And right now,
remembering her people, that reason was vengeance. She would find
the shadow, and she would destroy it.

Taking a deep breath, Jinji forced her eyes
to the water to look into her braidless, tribeless, but not
purposeless reflection.

The image of Janu stared back at her.

With a yelp, Jinji fell onto the grass. An
electric shock pulsed through her body, setting all of her hairs on
end. Disbelief.

Reservedly, she sat up and leaned over the
water again.

The image was slightly distorted by the
moving current, but it was unmistakable to her eyes. The slightly
flatter, higher cheekbones of her brother. His slightly wider eyes
and thinner mouth.

Almost the same as she, yet completely
different in Jinji's eyes.

The blue spirit strands flowing through the
water appeared in her vision, almost as if they could read her
mind. Searching through the spirits, she peered closer and closer,
until the white spaces, the mother spirit of jinjiajanu was there.
She grasped it, and almost instantly felt the illusion woven across
her facial features.

Using only her mind, she felt along the
tightly knotted strands circling her face, and she
remembered—remembered lying in that bed dressed in Janu's clothes,
wishing beyond everything else that he were there instead of
her.

In their own way, the spirits had listened
to her prayer. They couldn't let her trade places with the dead,
but they could for a time, let her pretend.

She felt her clothes again.

Her savior, whoever he was, must have
thought her a boy.

Well, she was happy to keep it that way. And
feeling the knots tied tight across her face, Jinji realized that
this illusion was built to last—was permanent. Nothing would
unravel until Jinji decided it was time to reveal her true face, to
let the mask of her brother's features fall away.

Now was not that time.

Releasing her connection with the spirits,
Jinji stood and looked over the water one more time. The sight of
her brother gave her strength and made her feel less alone, even if
it was just an illusion.

Masked by Janu's face, she felt ready to
find this man—her unknown protector.

The Arpapajo were gone, but not forgotten.
They lived through her, and venturing into the new world was the
only way Jinji would ever be able to find the answers they all so
desperately needed. So that was exactly what she planned to do.

And maybe, after all of the mysteries had
been solved and the shadow was gone, maybe then the spirits would
let her drift away—maybe then they would let her truly enter their
world.

With a sigh, she turned and waved to the
horse.

"Follow," she said and the horse stepped
forward. Satisfied, Jinji turned toward the tracks.

The sun was starting to lower in the sky.
They would have to move fast.

Wasting no time, Jinji splashed through the
water and ventured farther into the woods.

The more she walked, the more footprints she
saw and the more signs of life. Bushes carelessly chopped. Branches
thoughtlessly broken. Something had been in her woods.

After a long while, when the sky had already
started turning pink, Jinji heard what she was searching for.

Laughter.

Deep, boastful, taunting laughter. The sound
of men who thought they had won without even realizing the fight
had yet to be fought.

Behind her, the horse neighed and stomped
its feet. Jinji reached for the leather straps hanging from its
body, calming the poor animal down before securing it to a
low-hanging tree branch. The time had come for them to part ways,
at least for a little while.

Using the growing darkness as a cover, Jinji
moved closer to the noise. In these moments, her body felt as one
with the forest. The dirt seemed to soften under her feet, muting
any sound. The trees opened wide, letting her move swiftly between
them. Even the animals quieted, as though they were in on the
mission.

Normally, she hunted for game. But not
tonight.

As the sun disappeared, a fire brightened
into view, flickering through the woods like a beacon for her to
follow.

Jinji crept as close as she dared before
stopping behind a large tree trunk and peering around the edge to
survey the scene.

There were five men—four smiling, and one
distinctly more sullen.

My rescuer
, Jinji thought dryly,
taking in the straps binding his ankles and the harsh angles of his
arms, which must be bound behind his back. His skin was pale,
reminding her of her joining dress, bleached by the sun rather than
baked by it. His hair was light brown, fused with red, almost like
a bird's feathers—a color Jinji had never seen on a man. Even
sitting, he seemed rather large, stockier than the boys she had
grown up with.

But more than anything, Jinji found herself
drawn to his eyes. They were green, like the forest, filled with a
deep despair that Jinji understood. Hopelessness. The feeling of
failure.

Even though the two of them could not be
more different, Jinji felt as though she looked into her own
reflection. Her eyes, brown as they were, told the same story. And
that sense of shared loss made her want to help.

But how?

Jinji shifted slightly, taking in the other
four men. It was their laughter that had rung through the
trees.

They were not particularly large or
threatening, more like foxes than bears, but still she was
outnumbered. Jinji looked at the red tint to their cheeks, the jugs
in their hands, the wide smiles plastered on their lips. Something
was odd about them, like they had leaned too long over a fire and
breathed in too many fumes. Their eyes were vacant, open, but
unaware.

Perhaps it would be easier than she
realized.

Jinji reached for the knife at her waist,
but grasped nothing. She looked down, wincing at her idiocy. Her
brother's skins. She was in her brother's skins, not her own. Her
knife was a long distance away, back home laying useless on the
floor.

Using the firelight, she searched the
ground, but a branch would not be nimble enough to wield against
four foes. She could knock out one maybe, but four? No.

Jinji turned back to the camp. They had to
have weapons.

She crept in a circle, moving behind the
trees and just out of sight. The men looked unarmed and relaxed.
But surely they kept protection with them.

And then a bright light caught her eye.

She looked closer.

The hint of flickering fire gleamed from the
dark.

A newworlder weapon. Jinji had only seen
them a few times; like hardened water they shimmered.
Metal
,
she thought. The newworlders fought with metal and not rock.
But
, she sighed,
it will have to do
.

It looked like her knife, slightly longer
with a curved edge rather than a straight one, and a cuff circled
the handle.

But it was a few feet out of reach. She
would have to make herself known before grabbing it, would have to
expose herself. If one of them held a weapon she couldn't see,
Jinji would be dead. And she would never avenge her people.

Oh what she wouldn't give for a
spear—something she could throw from the shadows. Slamming a fist
against her leg in frustration, she searched for another option.
But there was none.

A drumming sound caught her ear, pounding
closer and closer.

From her peripheral, Jinji saw her rescuer
look up with a gleam of hope, the smallest hint of a smile.

A squeal sounded through the darkness.

All four captors looked up from the fire,
brows furrowed.

The horse
, Jinji realized. Her knot
hadn’t been tight enough—thank the spirits.

The thunder got louder, quicker.

The men stood and turned toward the darkness
on swaying feet, searching for the cause of the noise.

Before she had time to second guess, Jinji
jumped from the trees and ran the short distance to the gleaming
knife, gripping its cool hilt.

She felt eyes on her.

Jinji looked up, right into the crystal
green irises of her former rescuer. They were wide, shocked, and
then satisfied.