Naamah's Kiss

He shook his head. "We are on a quest to save a princess and a dragon, Moirin. Today I fight for noble reasons." He fiddled with his staff. "Just because these men lead unsavory lives, do not assume they are all bad. Some are, some are not. Many come from harsh childhoods like me. No one has ever offered them something good to fight for."

I was skeptical. "These are the same men who mocked Master Lo when he came seeking a travelling companion?"

"Some," Bao admitted. "It has been years. But Master Lo is not a beautiful princess in need of heroes to rescue her."

"You're counting on there being a hopeless romantic or two in the lot."

He grinned. "Uh-huh."

I eyed him. "I'm going with you."

Bao argued against it, but he didn't argue hard or long, and I thought that despite his bravado, he would be glad to have me there. I fetched my bow and quiver and went with him.

Although the mood in Shuntian was restless and uncertain, people were going about their daily lives. The park was a pleasant place, open for all the folk of the city to enjoy. We passed a square filled with young women practicing a graceful dance with long scarlet ribbons that swirled and trailed in the air, reminding me of the dragon's coils. We passed long pavilions where old men sat and played games with porcelain tiles or polished stones. Our passage drew a few curious glances, but as long as I kept my eyes averted, no one stared.

We heard the clash of stick-fighters sparring before we reached the square they considered their own. There were over twenty of them, laughing and shouting, some engaging in mock duels, others lounging on benches. They were a colorful lot, flaunting their ill-gotten wealth in bright clothing.

At the edge of the square, Bao planted his staff and stood, waiting. Beside him, I unslung my bow, holding it loosely.

A tall fellow with an even taller hat was the first to spot us. "Hey, peasant-boy!" he called. "You come to pick a fight?"

"Uh-huh."

"You've come to the right—" The tall stick-fighter paled. "Shangun?"

"Lightning Stick?" I murmured.

Bao gave me a sidelong glance. "I was young and foolish, all right?" He jerked his chin at the tall fellow. "Gaomen! Who leads you these days?"

It had gotten very quiet in the square. All sparring ceased. The men lounging on benches got to their feet, staves in hand, all save one handsome, strapping young fellow. They were staring at Bao—and they were staring at me, which meant I couldn't summon the twilight. I tightened my grip on my bow, calculating how quickly I could draw and nock an arrow.

"Well?" Bao faced the twenty-odd members of his former gang. "Who leads you these days?"

"You've come to challenge?" asked a burly fellow with a sloping chin.

"Tortoise." Bao smiled a little, and I eased my grip on my bow. "Yes." He made a gesture with his staff. "Do I need to prove myself to the new blood? Or do you concede my right to challenge your leader?"

The stick-fighters exchanged murmurs.

The young man yet lounging on the bench rose. The others parted and made way for him. "I will accept the challenge."

Bao inclined his head. "You lead here?"

"You don't know me?" The young man planted his staff and gripped it with white-knuckled intensity, staring at Bao. Alone among the stick-fighters, he hadn't the slightest interest in me.

"Ah….. no."

"I was the boy you didn't deem worthy of teaching, Shangun," he said grimly. "I was the boy you humiliated and abandoned. But I found other teachers, and I learned until I bested them all. Now I lead in your place." With one deft move, he whipped his staff to a horizontal position. "And I am more than ready to accept your challenge."

Bao looked blankly at him. "You're that boy? And you're angry because I didn't bugger your ass?"

The others snickered.

Their leader flushed. "You promised to teach me!" Now he did look at me with a hot, appraising gaze. "I am willing to put my leadership at stake. What will you risk, Shangun? Will you risk the foreign woman? Will you give her to me if I defeat you?"

"You think you're man enough to handle a sorceress?" Bao shook his head. "Boy, she would shrivel your manhood with one glance."

The men regarded me uneasily. I raised my brows and did my best to look capable of executing his threat.

The young man's flush deepened. "We'll see. Are you ready to run away again, or will you stand and fight me?"

Bao shrugged. "I came to fight."

CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE

The young man attacked without a word of warning, quick as a snake, one end of his staff lashing out at Bao's head.

Bao was quicker, his staff rising to catch it. "Heh."

With that the fight began in earnest. Everyone, me included, scrambled to clear a space for them.

It was brutal and beautiful, like some strange, violent dance. They wielded their staves with two hands, the ends moving so fast it was hard to see. Back and forth across the square they went, bamboo clattering on bamboo. At first glance, I thought mayhap they were evenly matched.

And then Bao planted his staff and vaulted over the younger man's head, just as he'd done to me long ago in the glass pavilion. His opponent spun, but Bao was already in motion. He leapt backward onto the low railing surrounding the square and balanced there with careless grace. The other man swore, lashing out at his legs. Bao hopped just high enough to avoid his blows, sandal-clad feet landing with deft precision. His staff whirled in his hands, tapping his opponent on both shoulders.

A couple of the stick-fighters cheered, others groaned. And one struck Bao hard across the back of his knees from behind.

It was the tall man with the tall hat. Bao yelled and toppled forward, turning his fall into a somersault. He came up with his staff in his hands and eyes blazing, his battle-grin giving way to genuine anger.

I loosed the arrow I'd nocked without thinking. It plucked the embroidered hat from the tall man's head and thunked into a pillar of the distant pavilion behind him, the hat dangling from the shaft. "The next man to interfere gets an arrow in his chest!"

Bao's grin returned. "I told you so," he said cheerfully to the boy he'd refused to teach. "She's dangerous."

The other merely grunted, fighting for survival.

After that it didn't last long. The young leader was good; Bao was better. Somehow he got inside the lad's guard, hooked his ankle with one sandaled foot, and shoved hard with his staff, sending him sprawling to the flagstones. Bao reversed his staff, holding it poised to jab at the other's heart. "Do you concede?"

The lad closed his eyes.

Bao poked him none too gently. "Huh?"

"Yes, Shangun," he murmured. "Yes, all right!"

"Good." Bao planted his staff and extended one hand. After a moment, the lad took it. Bao hauled him to his feet. "You're pretty good. Must have found good teachers. What do you call yourself?"

"Ten Tigers Dai," the other said stiffly.

"Tigers, huh? That's a good omen." Bao patted him on the back, then turned to survey the others. "So. Who's willing to swear loyalty to me on the Thieves' Oath?"

The burly fellow he'd called Tortoise stepped forward, raising one meaty hand. "Me, boss!"

As it transpired, six others agreed, Ten Tigers Dai among them. The tall man with the hat declined.

We retired to a nearby teahouse, where the hostess' eyes lit up at the sight of Bao, although she clasped her hands and bowed formally. "Shangun! We had rumors of your return. I am pleased to find them true. Will you have your old room?"

"Yes, please," he agreed, kissing her cheek and making her giggle and blush. "You are as lovely as ever, Liling."

I raised my brows at him.

"What?" He smiled. "Don't worry, you've no cause for jealousy. No other woman in the world would have shot a man's hat off his head in my defense. I like it when you lose your temper."

I shook my head. "And you call me strange."

Our motley band was ushered into a private room upstairs, where we were served tea and an array of steamed dumplings with a spicy dipping sauce, as well as tiny fish fried up hot and crispy. Once we were alone and the door firmly closed, the seven men swore loyalty to Bao on the Thieves' Oath, replete with gory details that would result from breaking it. He listened to them with eyes half-lidded.

"They speak the truth?" he asked me in D'Angeline.

I shrugged. "How should I know? I've no gift to determine whether or not a man speaks the truth."

"I will tell them you do," he informed me.

He did, and one man paled and left, trembling. It occurred to me that Bao had a considerable gift for theater. The men who remained hung on his words, perishing with curiosity, and none more than Ten Tigers Dai.

"So." Sitting cross-legged, Bao laid his staff across his lap and steepled his fingers. "You have heard the gossip. You have heard the stories. I am here to tell you the truth. Black Sleeve is a traitor. Lord Jiang is a traitor. The Son of Heaven has been tricked. He has not lost the Mandate of Heaven. His Noble Daughter has been tricked. It is not a. demon that possesses her." He paused to let them murmur and speculate, his eyes glinting. "She houses a dragon's spirit within her flesh. And we . mean to free them both by conveying her to White Jade Mountain, where the dragon is meant to reside. Men, I offer you an opportunity. Will you be petty thugs and villains all the days of your lives, or will you be heroes and claim a place in an epic tale? May I count upon your aid?"

They roared in agreement.

"Hopeless romantics," I murmured.

"Uh-huh." Bao nudged me. "A lot like you, eh?"

I smiled. "Mayhap."

It took some days to formulate a plan. There were three men willing to participate to the fullest, to risk the wrath of Heaven in escorting the princess to the mountain. Slope-jawed Tortoise, steady and none too bright; and his boon companion Kang, a clever wiry fellow with a narrow, pock-marked face.

And Ten Tigers Dai.

There were three others reluctant to commit to the journey, but willing to give their aid—and that was enough.

Piece by piece, we put together a plan. Our unlikely allies assisted us, gathering the necessary implements of our disguises and making arrangements.

"Are you certain we can trust them?" Snow Tiger mused when I told her of our evolving plan. "These thieves and ruffians?"

"I trust Bao," I said, surprised to find the words true. "And we have little choice."

I trust you.

I smiled at the dragon in the mirror, touching the smooth surface in which its opalescent gaze was reflected. "I will try to be worthy of it."

Snow Tiger was tense, her posture rigid. "The disguise that Master Lo Feng proposes may be a blasphemous one. Those who follow the Path of Dharma will be sorely offended, and perhaps the gods, too."

"Not by you," I assured her. "It is only the men who will take on the guise of travelling monks."

"Still—"

NO. The dragon's coils lashed, curling and uncurling. Its horned and whiskered head surfaced to regard us, its luminous gaze intent and grave. There is no blasphemy here. There is only need. The balance must be restored.

"I understand," we said in unison.

"And I will need my sword," Snow Tiger added. "Especially since we will be travelling with ruffians. We must retrieve it before I leave the Celestial City."

I sighed. "Aye, my lady."

"Moirin." She caught my wrist in that unnaturally strong grip, her eyes searching mine. "Forgive me. I question the method, but not the purpose. I will leave a letter for my father detailing my purpose. It is my belief that once we are committed, once I am gone, my father will shake off his doubts and rise to the occasion. He will commit his armies. The Son of Heaven will rise to Lord Jiang's challenge and seek to thwart him."

"I hope you're right," I said. "Because if he delays, Lord Jiang will have enough weapons to conquer all of Ch'in. And once he does so, why should he stop there? Why not conquer the world?"

The dragon reflected in her pupils coiled uneasily. "You voice my fears," Snow Tiger said soberly. "How soon may we go?"

"Send for me in two days."

She nodded. "I shall spend the time composing my letter."

If anyone had suspected what we were about, we'd never have gotten away with it. And twilight or no, if Snow Tiger had not been dragon-possessed, I'd have had no chance of spiriting her out of the Celestial City. Of course, it also wouldn't have been necessary; but if it had been, it would have been impossible. She would have been surrounded by attendants at all time. But she had banished her retinue after her husband's death, and no one had argued against it. The princess in the cage had no attendants save those who came and went as quickly as possible to bring her meals and fresh attire or empty the chamberpot.

And no one suspected us. It was simply too unthinkable. Children did not defy their parents, and ordinary folk did not plot against the Son of Heaven's edict.

Even so, I did not expect it to be easy. Snow Tiger was insistent that we retrieve her sword, and I could not find my way alone through the endless labyrinth of halls and chambers that comprised the Celestial City.

And then there was the outer city, teeming with people. The twilight would conceal us, but it wouldn't remove us from the physical world altogether.

We would have to be very, very careful. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">