A Dance of Dragons: Series Starter Bundle (27 page)

It must be the palace. No other place could
be so grand and so commanding.

Her blood began to buzz with energy,
sizzling into her limbs.

Rhen was close. She could feel it.

But Jinji had no idea where to go. Columns
lined her vision, opening into different rooms and different
atriums, acting like walls. The unmarked in front of her continued
stepping at an unchanging pace, weaving intentionally and with
purpose through the maze before them.

Veering to the left, the men turned into a
closed corridor with solid gold walls and openings that let the
breeze fly in unchecked.

A hand gripped Jinji's arm, squeezing her
skin tight, and yanked.

Dropping the box, Jinji tumbled sideways,
pulled by an unseen force. She pressed her lips to keep from
shouting, wincing as the boom of the box echoed down the long
hall.

Pushed by invisible arms, Jinji crashed into
a wall.

A soft thud sounded behind her.

Spinning, Jinji caught the sight of a door
slamming closed—it was the first door she had seen in this city. As
it sealed shut, it melded into the wall, almost indiscernible, and
Jinji was left in a small boxy room with no way out.

A body slammed into her, knocking her tight
against the wall as the cool steel of a knife settled against her
throat.

It was a woman.

Her face was hidden underneath of veil of
golden links, dangling from a delicate jeweled crown that rested on
her head. But even through the small metal pieces, Jinji saw
hardened wet eyes, read the anger and hurt pouring out from
them.

And then something truly magical happened.
The spirits awakened in Jinji's eyes, circling the woman before her
in a shroud of blue so bright that it almost hurt. Water rippled
along the girl's skin, clinging to the decorations on her tattooed
arms, flowing down her long dress, and splashing around her
face.

Jinji's heart stopped.

Aside from Rhen, she had never seen the
spirits cling to a human before. And now it was happening again.
But not with fire, with water. The girl was a walking ocean, her
anger like waves crashing into Jinji's skin.

But instead of fear, Jinji felt comforted.
The spirits had sent this woman to her. Somehow, she was meant to
help.

The Ourthuri was speaking, shouting, pushing
the knife deeper into Jinji's skin.

Slowly, with as much confidence as she could
gather, Jinji said, "I do not understand."

The woman paused, tilted her head, and
forced the knife closer as her gaze narrowed.

"You are not Ourthuri?" She asked, her voice
deep and full of pain.

"No."

The knife pressed closer as the girl leaned
in. Jinji didn't try to fight back.

"How do you wear that face?"

Jinji gasped. The girl recognized her,
recognized the illusion—the man, Mikzahooq. Closing her eyes tight,
she bit her lip, before breathing deeply.

Please
, Jinji asked the spirits,
please let this work
.

The illusion fell away.

Jinji stood before her attacker
unmasked.

The girl stepped back in shock, her mouth
dropping along with the knife she held.

"I traveled with Prince Whylrhen," Jinji
spoke quickly, "who came to the palace today to return four
Ourthuri men that we found on a ship. One man, Mikzahooq, was very
kind to me, and I borrowed the image of his body to sneak here to
save the prince, who I believe your king is going to kill. I can
sense the spirits around you. I can sense that you have magic too,
and that it does not frighten you. I promise I did not come here
with the intention to hurt anyone, only to save the prince who has
become a dear friend to me."

While Jinji spoke, the girl lifted a hand to
her mouth. Tears dropped below her veil, falling swiftly to the
ground. She nodded slowly.

"He was kind? Mikza?" She asked, voice
wavering and warming as she said the name. The man had meant
something to her, Jinji realized. They had been close.

"Yes." Jinji nodded. "He told me about these
islands, so foreign from my own home, and comforted me. We were
trying to help him, to bring him back to his family, but…"

The girl took an unsteady breath. "But
what?"

Jinji shrugged, not sure how much to say. "I
do not believe he was very excited to return. I sensed that there
was something here he missed, something that had been ripped from
his side, leaving a gaping wound in his heart. But there was
something he feared as well—or someone, maybe."

The girl's expression hardened. Her lips
pushed into a flat line and her pupils dilated. She wiped the tears
from her cheeks, standing straighter and squaring her
shoulders.

"I know who he feared. It is the same man we
all fear, but cannot escape."

"Who?"

The girl looked up, met Jinji's eyes.

"King Razzaq…my father," she said, ice cold,
and picked her knife up off the ground. "I will help you save your
prince, but only if you can promise me one thing."

"What?" Jinji asked, relaxing, letting a
little ray of hope leak into her senses. Perhaps all wasn't lost.
Had the spirits saved her once again?

"Protection," the girl said quietly, and
lifted her hand to remove the crown covering her features. Her
umber eyes were large, unusual, and beautiful against her pale,
brown skin with the slightest leafy hue. Her lids were painted
golden, but even that brightness couldn't hide the heartbreak
shadowing her young face.

They were the same age. And Jinji felt an
instant connection with this girl, another person not ready for the
pain the world had thrown at her.

"I cannot stay here with that man anymore.
No matter what it takes, I am finding a way out, and when I do, I
will need protection and a safe place to live where he cannot touch
me. If your prince can help hide me, then I will help save his
life."

"My prince has a special liking for saving
people," Jinji said, unable to cover the smile that spread across
her face. "He will help you. I swear it."

"Then use your magic to change your clothes
to match mine and follow me."

The girl spun without looking back and
walked to the door, opening it and jumping into the hall.

Quickly, Jinji closed her eyes, picturing
the spirits as they wove around her. In her mind, she imagined
wearing a dress of golden silks that hung from one side, leaving
her shoulders almost bare. She pictured black tattoos sprouting on
her arms, the image of flowers and curving swirls. And finally, she
saw a golden belt cinching her waist and a golden headdress
cascading over her face.

When her eyes opened, Jinji instantly knew
the spirits had listened as metal hung before her, partially
blocking her vision.

Without wasting any more time, she followed
the Ourthuri princess into the hall, praying that her instincts to
trust this girl were right.

They moved swiftly through the palace.
Jinji, always the shorter one, struggled to keep up until the
princess stopped, throwing an arm to the side, and catching Jinji
around the waist to keep her from moving.

She put a finger in front of her lips,
signaling silence, and stepped slowly around two wide columns,
until a giant pool of water came into view, a brilliant turquoise
nestled in gold. At the far end, Jinji saw Rhen crumpled on the
floor—unconscious and surrounded by men holding swords.

Her throat dried. She couldn't swallow.
Couldn't breathe. Her chest contracted.

Then Rhen shifted, his arm twitched.

Jinji relaxed—he was alive. It was the only
sign she needed to press forward. The princess tugged Jinji back
until the two of them were hidden behind a wide column.

"They are going to drown him," the princess
whispered, "to make it look like an accident, as though he died in
a shipwreck."

"How can we save him?"

The princess smirked underneath her veil,
raising one eyebrow. "I create a scene, something my king will
love, and while I do, you grab the body. Can you only change your
image or can you mask other things as well?"

Jinji paused. She had never talked so openly
about her gift, her connection to the spirits. It felt odd. Yet at
the same time liberating. "I can mask other things as well," she
said, matching the princess's grin.

"Then do it, and meet me back here."

The princess stepped out from their hiding
spot and walked confidently forward. Soon enough, Jinji heard
raised voices, a commotion, and she stepped from the column. The
guards were talking with the princess, looking away from her and
away from Rhen.

Lifting her hands before her, Jinji prayed
to the spirits. Her emotions warmed when the mother spirit,
jinjiajanu, jumped into her vision, encircling her in what felt
like a loving hug.

Instantly, the elements heeded her call,
weaving together in an invisible wall along the edge of the pool,
enveloping Rhen in the scene so he was on the side with Jinji,
hidden from the rest of the world. Any guard that looked over would
see Rhen immobile beside the pool—the scene would remain unchanged
as long as they kept their distance. But in reality, Jinji had just
crafted an illusion of the hall.

Holding her breath, she ran forward, not
wasting time.

The illusion worked.

Not one of the guards sounded an alarm. No
one saw her. No one realized she was currently cradling Rhen's head
in her lap, brushing the hairs from his forehead, wincing at the
cut that dug deep into his skin.

He didn’t stir. But it was better that
way.

He could never see her like this. Could
never see her for what she truly was—a girl.

To Rhen, she would always be Jin. But
staring at his closed eyes, Jinji couldn’t help but wish for an
instant that they would open and uncover her secret.

A shout sounded behind her.

Jinji's head whipped around.

More guards were coming. Whatever time she
had was gone.

Standing, Jinji pulled on Rhen's hands,
hoping she wasn't causing any more pain as she dragged his body
across the cold, hard floor.

Her arms ached. Her shoulders felt as though
they would detach from her body at any second. Every muscle burned,
screaming at her in protest.

Rhen was heavy. Really, really heavy.

And all Jinji could do was keep pulling,
hoping that they got out of sight in time.

12

Rhen

~ Da'astiku ~

A goddess.

Every time Rhen closed his eyes, he saw her.
A vision in gold. His head was nestled in her lap and she looked
down over him, hidden behind a veil of shimmering metal, but there
was affection in that gaze. Rhen could still feel her fingers brush
over his cheeks, push his hair to the side, run over his lower lip.
His skin tingled, alive at the touch.

In the dream, she leaned down, pressing a
long, soft kiss to his lips.

Then his eyes opened and he was back here,
shoved in a crate underneath some sort of moving contraption,
unsure of where he was or who was holding him there.

But something was certain: King Razzaq had
not killed him, despite the ringing pain in his head that said
otherwise.

Rhen sighed, trying to shift his sore
muscles, but his wide body was cramped in the small space. There
was nothing to do but wait.

He closed his eyes again, welcoming the
vision of the nameless woman. Who was she? Was she even real?

The bouncing stopped.

Rhen's eyes tore open, flicking through the
darkness. He balled his hands into fists, trying to reach for his
sword but he could not access his hip—he couldn't even tell if his
weapon was still there.

Rhen took a deep breath, darting his vision
in circles, waiting for the crack of daylight. His body tensed, all
muscles contracting in preparation to strike.

Suddenly, he was drenched in whiteness. The
sun enveloped his gaze, blinding him.

Rhen blinked rapidly, waiting for hands to
grab him.

A black silhouette haunted his vision,
slowly coming into focus.

"You're awake," a voice said—a somewhat
high-pitched voice that Rhen recognized.

"Jin!" A goofy smile wrapped around his face
as the boy's features filtered into view—the short hair, the small
grin. He still wore Rhen's clothes, far too loose and far too
Whylkin for this city.

Rhen sat up. "How…what…?"

Jin lightly tapped his arm.

"I will explain in a moment," he said and
offered his hand. Rhen ignored it, standing slowly on his own.

When his feet touched land, Rhen realized
they stood in an alleyway, a metal enclosure open to the sky.
Everything was gray, dull—not at all like the golden palace.

He spun. Behind him was a small box strapped
to the back of a golden carriage—a royal carriage. Rhen stepped to
the side, just in time to view a head covered in gold, hidden
behind a draped veil.