Chapter 22

Zaidna

The Empire of Judath

The Makivum Summer Estate

“You’ll come with me, won’t you?” The horned man lifted the loop of leather and placed it carefully around Kirin’s neck. This time, she did not fight the pattern or panic, as she had the last three times she had been in this spot. Instead, she forced herself to watch and wait, ignoring the dread that thundered in her chest as she nodded in Anji’s place.

The man licked his lips, his black eyes shining sadistically as he tightened the leash about Kirin’s neck with slow, deliberate malice. She knew it wasn’t real, but she could still feel the sharp sting of the leather cutting into her skin, the growing pressure causing her eyes and lips to swell. She was going to die again! Her screams choked into the faintest of squeals, her hands clawing at his arms but meeting nothing but air.

A few excruciating moments later, she managed to strike the rope binding her thoughts to Anji’s, and the image flashed white. She caught hold of the pattern and quickly unraveled it, finding herself once again in Anji’s bedroom. She fell back onto the bed, gasping for mouthfuls of air.

Anji, seated across from Kirin on the bed, frowned apologetically. “You still couldn’t get past it, could you?”

Kirin rubbed at her neck while the beating of her heart gradually resumed its normal rhythm. Nothing was worse than being strangled. “I couldn’t, no. I’m sorry, it’s just too—” She bowed her head. She had yet to view the nightmare in its entirety; how had Anji endured experiencing the whole thing so many times? “I guess I got a little closer.”

Anji shook her head, frowning gloomily. It seemed as though her faith in elucidations was wavering, and Kirin couldn’t blame her.

“Do you want me to try again?”

“No. It’d be a waste of time.”

“I’m sorry,” Kirin moaned.

Anji sighed and threw up her hands. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry to be snippy. I’m just frustrated is all.”

Kirin glanced out the window, noting the sun’s high position. “I should probably get going. I have to attend a lecture this afternoon. I wish I could have helped more. We can try again later.” She rose wearily from the bed and headed for the sliding doors. As she stooped over to pick up her satchel, the doors flew apart with a loud bang, and Tirbeth’s sandaled feet tromped into the room.

“I hate my father!” Tirbeth screeched, her cheeks burning red, her fists trembling at her sides.

“Tirbeth! What are you doing here?” Anji asked in surprise.

“I’ve been trying and trying to talk to Father about giving us a cleansing for our nightmares, but he just won’t listen to me! I stood and waited for over three hours while he was in a meeting with a bunch of stupid old high priests, and when he was finally done—”

“The emperor is meeting with the other high priests?” Kirin interrupted.

Tirbeth sniffled. “Oh, I didn’t see you there, Kirin.” She seemed to calm down slightly before continuing. “The emperor of Xeshun was there, too, if that matters. But I’ve never seen so many old and ugly high priests all at once. There must have been dozens of them! Ugh, Angxa is so creepy, even for an engstaxi, and he smells like—”

Kirin frowned. High priests only convened in large numbers when choosing a new Nassé or mourning the death of an emperor. “Was Xin—I mean, was the Nassé there?”

“As if she’d ever leave the temple! No, they were all men and they were all gross. I checked,” Tirbeth sighed.

Kirin fidgeted uncomfortably.

“The engstaxis have already arrived for the summit?” Anji asked.

“Yes! Stupid Angxa has to be early for everything so he can rub it into peoples’ faces!” Tirbeth snarled. “Never mind him making me wait! Three hours! That’s how long I had to put up with his son, Xaoshu, hovering over me like some overgrown bat! And when the rest of the high priests finally left, I tried to ask Father for a cleansing, but Angxa was there the whole time and laughed at me, calling me silly! So then Father turns around and yells about how cleansings are just for people who are possessed or insane. He didn’t even care that we have been having nightmares about the same evil man for seasons! He just told me to go away! How could he be so mean?”

Anji sighed. “Sorry. My father did the same thing. I guess we’ll have to figure something else out. Maybe another priest can give us a cleansing.” She looked at Kirin hopefully.

“I don’t know,” Kirin mumbled. “It was probably dumb of me to suggest it in the first place. You definitely aren’t insane and probably not possessed. Maybe the man in your dreams is a more universal symbol. Maybe he shows up in every bad dream, but yours are especially bad.” Her words rang hollow even to her own ears. The man was appearing in many dreams, including the Nassé’s and her own, but what could such a symbol represent and what was Naltena trying to tell them by making them suffer for so long? What clues were they missing?

Tirbeth slumped to a cushion on the floor, grumbling and wiping her nose, while Anji leaned back on the bed. Both seemed resigned to their fates.

“Look, I’ll talk to the priests and see if any of them can help,” Kirin offered as she threw her satchel over her shoulder. Batem would probably know how. Maybe he would be able to help her with her own nightmares, although she was still hesitant to tell anyone she was having them, too.

“Wait, are you going already?” Tirbeth asked, her tears fully evaporating in an instant. She met Kirin’s nod with a look of disappointment. “But I just got here!”

“Leave her alone, Tirbeth,” Anji chided. “She has things to do and we can’t expect her to elucidate for us every day.”

Tirbeth gnawed on her lip. She looked a little guilty. “Oh, right . . . sorry. We don’t want you to feel like we’re taking advantage of you.”

“It’s fine,” Kirin responded nervously.

“Oh! Oh, I know!” Tirbeth cried. “We should all meet up tomorrow and have a little fun—try to get our minds off of this nightmare business. No elucidations necessary!”

Kirin blinked, a little surprised. She had visited Anji and Tirbeth, both here and at the palace, several times now, but only ever to perform an elucidation. The prospect of visiting just for fun was a strange but exciting relief. “Are you sure?” She tried not to sound too hopeful.

“Absolutely!” Tirbeth exclaimed.

Anji hesitated a moment, then nodded as well. “We don’t want you to think that we don’t count you as a friend. We do.”

A smile sprang to Kirin’s lips. “I’d be glad to! I mean, I can’t come tomorrow, but maybe the day after?”

Anji sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. “Sure. Javan will probably be glad to see you, too. Is he going to be riding to Marin with you again today?”

“Ew!” Tirbeth pouted.

Kirin’s already warm cheeks burst into flame. “I don’t know. Maybe.” She distracted herself by looking into her bag, hoping they wouldn’t notice her blush. Javan had been escorting her home after each of her visits, and more recently, she had begun running into him at random places in Marin’s holy district. More than once he had invited her to some of the nicer snack bars nearby for some tea and baked treats, which he always insisted on paying for. Steamed milk cakes were her favorite, and Javan was really sweet to have bought so many for her.

Anji let loose an amused snort and said, “Well, have fun. See you later.”

Kirin waved goodbye and slipped from the room, her toes starting to tingle as she moved a little too eagerly down the hall. She had gotten quite familiar with the manor’s passageways and found her way back to the circular foyer with ease. As soon as she made it outside, she saw Javan waiting in the courtyard. He held the reins of his naru in one hand, while petting the cere of Kirin’s with the other.

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“What was Tirbeth’s problem?” Javan asked as Kirin approached. He offered his hand to help her climb her naru. “I’d normally expect at least a hello. She just told me to go stuff myself and then she barged into the manor!”

Kirin grinned. “Don’t worry about it. I guess she got into an argument with her father.” She grabbed the horn of her naru’s saddle and seated herself.

Javan nodded and mounted his naru as well, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth before urging the green-scaled beast forward.

Kirin followed, and within moments they had left the grounds of the estate and were on the dirt drive, heading down the hill with the Goddess Forest on both sides of them.

“So,” Javan began, “how have the elucidations been going?”

Kirin pursed her lips a moment. She hated admitting her failings to anyone, but she had grown to trust Javan. He never seemed to judge her. “Not as well as I was hoping. I’ve given Anji what details I can, but I keep losing sight of the nightmare at the most important part.”

“That’s too bad.” There was a moment of uneasy silence, before he chuckled. “Oh well. It just means you’ll have to keep enduring all of these long trips with me.”

Kirin smiled. She actually rather liked the thought of more of these trips. They already ended all too quickly, and she had grown accustomed to riding down this path with him, chatting all the while.

Javan shot her a mischievous look and pulled back on his naru’s reins. It made an irritated hiss and halted, tossing its head and stamping its claws. “Hey, I was hoping to do something different today. Do you have time for a little adventure?”

“An adventure?” Kirin looked over her shoulder to see Javan by the stone barrier that separated the path from the forest. “Inside there? We’re not allowed in the Goddess Forest!”

“Says who?” Javan tugged his naru closer to the trees and tied its reins to a low branch that extended over the chest-high barrier.

A million lectures rattled in Kirin’s skull like buzzing beetles trapped in a jar. “Says the priests and the Nassé! There are hadirs in there that’ll kill us if—”

“Trust me, there’s no such thing,” Javan dismissed. “I’ve been going in there since I was a boy.”

Kirin cringed. How could the priests be wrong again?

“Come on. I promise it isn’t dangerous,” Javan beckoned.

She chewed unhappily on her lip. It would be a sin to enter. A sin! And yet, Javan didn’t seem much like a sinner. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take just one quick peek. She dismounted her naru and tied it to the same tree as the other. She watched anxiously as Javan vaulted over the barrier. When he turned and held out his hand to her, she hesitated. Her nightmare with the shadow maker took place in this forest almost every night. Would it be wise to ignore the warnings and enter anyway?

“We don’t have to go in if you don’t want to,” he offered, frowning a little.

She shook her head, bracing herself. She was being silly! She grabbed Javan’s hand and allowed him to help her climb up and over the barrier. Met with the impossible whiteness of the forest all around her, she immediately wanted to turn back, but Javan gently tugged her forward. His hand was so warm.

He led her deeper into the forest, with the pale trees gradually growing thicker on all sides of them. “I’ve never brought anybody here before,” Javan admitted as he glanced over his shoulder at her.

Kirin made no comment, too unnerved by the silence and the strangely still air. It was summer, but there were no animals scurrying about the trees. In fact, there were no sounds, save for the crunching of their feet in the undergrowth.

“This is it,” Javan whispered almost reverently. He moved aside a colorless curtain of ivy to reveal a small but beautiful clearing. Warm rays of sunlight filtered down and splashed onto their shoulders as they entered.

“What is this place?” Kirin asked as she watched him sit upon the thick carpet of pearlescent grass.

“This is where I come to be alone. Isn’t it nice?”

“It is. Does anybody else know about it?”

“Just Anji, but she’s too scared of the forest to come see it for herself. When I was a boy I used to come here during our summer visits and play in the trees. Now I come here when I need to think or pray.”

Kirin folded her hands behind her back and surveyed his lair. A few colorful objects near the other end of it caught her eye. An old wooden naru and a couple half-deflated balls were wedged against the roots of a tree. At some point Javan had tied a long, knotted rope swing to a high branch, and behind it were the remnants of a tattered flag, emblazoned with a crude drawing of a girl beneath the messily-scrawled words “Anji stinks!” There was a stark contrast between the faded colors of Javan’s old toys and the whiteness surrounding them.

“So, why did you bring me here?” she asked finally.

He scratched his head, hesitating. “Uh, it’s hard to talk to you while riding. If you’re uncomfortable, we can leave.”

Kirin sat down and settled beside him. “No, it’s fine. It’s—peaceful here.” Being inside the Goddess Forest was much different than she had imagined. There was a strange energy in the trees, but it seemed far more harmonious when within them than looking at them from without. Still, there was something unnerving about all this lack of color. She found herself squinting, somehow certain that that color would emerge from the white if she just looked hard enough. “I wish I could tell Batem about this. But if I did, he’d probably have me sent to a disciplinary court, and I’d be banned from seminary forever.” She laughed nervously, sliding her hands along the white grass. It felt just like regular grass.

Javan stared into the trees. “Would that be so bad?”

Kirin grimaced. She sometimes had reservations about becoming a priestess, but she didn’t like the idea of being banned from anything, ever. She hated being in trouble. “Well, yes it would be bad! I have to become a priestess.”

“Why?” Javan asked earnestly.

“Well—well, because!” Kirin declared with lame authority. “My father wants me to. Besides, I can’t do much else, and Batem says I have a really good chance of becoming Nassé one day.”

Javan met her eyes a moment, his expression unreadable. “Is that what you want to do?”

Kirin shifted uncomfortably. “What else is there? Girls born beneath very high houses aren’t cut out for anything but the clergy. Where else could we sleep and dream all the time? If I were a boy it would be different. I would be a surgeon or a warden. My father’s a son of the eighth house, but he never has to sleep. And he was elected as the high chief warden when he was just thirty! The only younger high chief was a son of the ninth house, but he died over a hundred years ago.”

“It sounds like you really like your father.” Javan grinned.

“I guess so,” Kirin mumbled. “I wish I were more driven like him. His house makes him crazy, I’ll admit, but my house just makes me stupid. I can’t even keep my glyph radicals straight.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Javan asserted.

Kirin felt her cheeks grow warm and glanced away from him. Obviously, he had never seen her marks in class. “What about you? Do you like your father?”

Javan seemed to think a while, before he said, “He’s all right, but he’s stern and expects a lot out of me. Like with the summit coming, he’s expecting me to choose someone to marry. ‘All those noble girls in one place,’ he says, ‘It’s now or never!’”

“Oh.” The contents of Kirin’s stomach curdled. “I guess a western king has to have a queen.”

He nodded silently.

“I have the opposite problem!” She smiled for his sake. “If I became a priestess, I’d never marry or have children. I probably don’t need that to be happy, but sometimes it seems like life would be lonely without a family to love.”

Javan didn’t respond.

“Do—do you even want to get married?”

Javan leaned back, pressing his hands into the grass behind him, and glowered up through the canopy of leaves. “Eventually. I would be fine marrying so soon if I knew I had an equal partner. You know . . . someone who would love me in the ‘ancient way,’ as Naltena puts it. I want the woman I marry to be psyche bound to me.” He grimaced, but it was hard to tell whether he was resigned to his fate or upset. “I may have found someone I could be psyche bound to already, but I don’t know for sure.”

Kirin forced herself to chime, “Well, that’s a good thing!”

“Yes, but she has a choice in the matter, too. They say you aren’t psyche bound unless both people feel the same.” He paused. “I guess priestesses-in-training probably don’t concern themselves with this sort of thing.”

“Well, I know a little bit about it,” Kirin mumbled, trying to sound nonchalant. “People say that when psyches were first formed in the Mother Star, the strands of separate psyches sometimes became tangled. If you have a bound psyche like that you spend your whole life drawn to the other psyche until you finally meet, then it’s love at first sight.” She’d never admit it to Javan, but she had spent countless hours late at night having read hundreds of romance novels about psyche bound couples. One of her favorite stories was about a girl who was hopelessly torn between two men she loved in the ancient way.

“You’re blushing,” Javan noted.

She rubbed at her cheeks, embarrassed. “Isn’t the ancient attraction of psyche binding supposed to make men obsessive and insane?”

“No, that’s just silly. I think it’s more subtle than that. It’s just a constant—I don’t know, push? Pull? It’s hard to stop thinking about the person you are psyche bound to.”

“Sounds frustrating.” Kirin’s heart sank into her stomach.

Javan leaned close and gave her a puzzled look. “You know I’m talking about you, right?”

“Wait—what?” She didn’t know how to react to his advancing arms; all she knew for certain was how good his lips felt as they met hers. A kiss—her first kiss! The thought of Javan, the western prince of Judath, kissing her was terrifying, but at the same time enthralling. His lips were so soft—the smell and taste of him set her whole body on fire.

When Javan broke the kiss, the lenses of his spectacles were steamed. “I knew I was right about you.”

Kirin stared at him, her cheeks burning even hotter. He was right—right about what? That they were psyche bound? But that was crazy! “I-I—” She shut her eyes, ordering herself to calm down. Was this the ancient attraction that psyche bound couples felt for each other? She knew that she had a crush on him but she never considered—she wanted to throw him to the grass and kiss him again.

“Was I too forward?” Javan released her.

Was this why her heart skipped a beat whenever she found him waiting outside of the temple to greet her? And was it why she felt an ache of disappointment whenever she found that he wasn’t? It all seemed so clear and confusing now, but it seemed to confirm that Javan was more correct in saying that the ancient attraction was subtle, rather than the scintillating whirlwind of romance that her books had taught her.

But what was she to do now? She couldn’t just pretend this never happened. Declaring that you were psyche bound was almost as serious as a betrothal agreement. He intended to officially court her! But she was a candidate, possibly next in line to be Nassé! Love and betrothal had no place for her.

“I’m sorry!” Kirin blurted out. “I don’t know what to think of this. Please don’t be upset! I just need some time before I’m ready to discuss it again!”

Javan’s lips thinned as he nodded, refusing to meet her gaze.

Kirin’s eyes welled up with tears as she stood up and left the clearing, looking to find the color of their tethered narus beyond the trees.