“Are you still there?” Dax asked quietly as a large husede male stepped toward the pedestal. Several other people had been waiting for this platform, but Dax had insisted upon having it ‘to himself’ so that no one would bump into or step on Kaz and Li. This had made the group of mostly husede mutter among themselves, but they’d yielded and now waited impatiently for the platform to return.
Rather than answering, Kaz touched Dax’s arm. From his experience with Ogden, Kaz knew husede hearing wasn’t as good as that of a kobold, but it wasn’t as bad as a human’s, either, and he didn’t want this one to know he was there. Dax jumped in surprise just as the husede touched the pedestal, and red ki surrounded them all. Dax froze in place, a startled expression on his face, fur just beginning to lift. The husede’s mana flowed down through the control pedestal, which refined it into the ki needed to move the platform.
Kaz looked at Li, and to his surprise, his dragon was staring around at the gleaming shaft of red ki through which they moved. Before, she, too, had been caught in whatever power made time seem to stop for the passengers of the platform.
Kaz looked around again. To be honest, he’d been too startled by the phenomenon at first, and then had become caught up in figuring out how and why it happened. Was it simply a side-effect of whatever made the platforms work, or was it intentional? He even thought it might be there to protect the people riding the platform, since he didn’t think it would be safe for someone to try to touch the endless stream of ki that flowed up and around them.
“It is beautiful,” Kaz said, and indeed it was. The ki was all Fire, but like fire, it was made of many shades of red and orange, all flickering and dancing with one another. Sparks flashed around them, and deep red streaks had gathered around the husede’s slowly descending hand, as if curious about the mana he was pushing into the pedestal.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe because you have Fire yourself now? Or maybe because you have all five types of ki.” Those were both possibilities, but he suspected the real reason was because she was becoming something far more than just a dragon. Something he himself had already been well on the way to becoming when they first passed through here, though he hadn’t known it.
Li just nodded in response to his suggestions, though. She was watching as a scene of two young husede chatting melted into a picture of a hallway occupied by two different husede, each very large, very serious, and very armed. Their heavy hammers were crossed, and they looked like they might well remain in that exact same position for the rest of eternity.
This image solidified, and the carmine flush of Fire withdrew into the ki-crystals that were embedded in the surface of the platform on which they rode. The husede controlling the platform raised his hand from the control column, and the two guards stiffened as their dark eyes landed on Dax.
“Councilor,” one of them said. He had a single piece of gold that had been shaped into a slender bar attached to one shoulder of his shirt, and he neither bowed nor moved aside as Dax stepped onto the narrow section of hallway available to him.
“Kithrik,” Dax said, lip lifting. It was obvious that he didn’t care for the other male, and it seemed the feeling was mutual. Kaz touched Dax’s back, urging the other male to move so he could step off the platform as well, since he didn’t want to find out what would happen if the platform left while he was still partially on it. Dax started, letting out a low growl before he moved forward to press his chest against the crossed handles of the hammers.
“Let me in,” Dax said, and Kaz had to admire the older warrior’s determination. He was fairly tall for a kobold, but he was all sinew and lean muscle after his time in the mines, and each of the husede was taller and as heavy as two or three of Dax.
Kithrik’s lip lifted in a credible snarl that was somewhat ruined by his flat, square teeth. “There’s no meeting today.”
“No,” Dax said, pushing harder as Kaz crowded up beside him. “But these are the Council chambers, and I’m a Councilor. Let me by, or lose your pretty gold bar.”
The husede flinched slightly, his eyes flickering to the side as if to make sure the little rectangle of gold was still attached. What was it? As far as Kaz could tell, it had no ki in it, which meant it was just a piece of metal. Was it part of some husede version of a necklace?
“You can’t decide that on your own,” Kithrik grunted, but he didn’t quite push Dax back.
Dax lowered his voice to a threatening growl. “I can if I rip it off with my teeth at the same time I tear out your throat.”
This time Kithrik did give way slightly, and Kaz remembered that though the husede were physically large and strong, they’d served mostly as caretakers, messengers, and the people who controlled the kobolds for the mosui. Few, if any, of them had actually been trained as warriors, and so far as Kaz knew, even fewer had faced real combat except during the short-lived rebellion. Without their collars and pain-dealing devices, the mosui had simply been slaughtered, so even that didn’t really count as battle.
While Kithrik was still trying to decide if he was willing to back down, the other husede did it for him. Lowering his hammer, he stepped back and to the side, clearing a space large enough for both Dax and Kaz to walk by. They did so, while Kithrik glared at his fellow guard with all the baleful energy of a male who had just been humiliated. Without looking back, Dax continued down the hall, and Kaz trailed him, remaining silent until they turned a corner and paused outside the room in which Lianhua had been tortured by Zhangwo.
“What was that about?” Kaz asked, after picturing the rune for silence in his mind.
Dax shook his head. “I’ll explain later,” he muttered.
“It’s all right. No one can hear us,” Kaz told him. “For the moment at least.”
This little journey had already been difficult for Dax. He had known intellectually that Kaz had power, since he was able to remove the collars that kept the kobolds and husede prisoner, but Kaz had never done anything as obvious as disappearing in his presence. Of course, that was actually Li, but Kaz didn’t think it would actually help anything to explain, in spite of Li’s mild disgruntlement at the omission.
A few heartbeats passed as Dax digested this, and then he sighed and said, “Kithrik is Thabil’s brother’s son. He’s neither intelligent nor skilled, but he was given the role of leader of the warriors. The male with him was Trasig, who probably would have held that role if he’d been allowed to fight for it. Kithrik likes to pair with Trasig so he can show off, knowing Trasig can’t do anything about it.”
Kaz nodded, then remembered Dax couldn’t see him and said, “Trasig was proving that Kithrik can’t control him. Will he challenge for the position soon?”
“That’s not how things work for the husede,” Dax said, defeat in his voice. “The mosui simply told them who would do what task, and they still follow that tunnel of thought. Thabil is the leader, therefore they do what she says. There is nothing Trasig can do except irritate Kithrik in small ways.”
“That was small?” Kaz asked, startled.
“Yes,” Dax said, “because the door is always locked. They expect me to return with my tail between my legs in a few seconds. All Thabil has to do is ignore me when I howl for her.”
Kaz made a thoughtful sound, then looked at the door. He had seen locks like this before in the mosui city. They required the right combination of ki to open. Zhangwo used to set the doors to recognize the mana of certain people, ensuring that only his select few favored servants could access the space beyond. Kaz, however, had accidentally blown one up, and if he was forced to, he could do the same again, except this time from around the corner.
“In a few seconds, everyone will be able to hear you again,” he told Dax. “See if Thabil will answer.” He dropped his dome of silence, and after an awkward moment, Dax rapped sharply at the door, then howled loudly. A snicker came from where the guards waited, and Kaz guessed Kithrik had recovered his equanimity enough to laugh at what he believed to be Dax’s powerlessness.
There was a sudden silence from beyond the door, but it didn’t open, and no voice called out. Dax looked back in the direction Kaz’s voice had come from and shrugged. He tried once more, but it was obvious that if Thabil was inside - and Kaz could see the thick gray mana of two short, squat bodies beyond the door - she had no intention of answering.
Kaz was trying to decide if he should simply throw ki at it until it blew open, even though the occupants might be injured in the process, or if he should start running through potential combinations of ki and hope he got it right when Li said,
Stretching out his hand, Kaz cautiously pushed Fire, Earth, and Metal ki into the door. The metal groaned slightly, as if protesting, and he watched the memory again. Less red and yellow, he thought, as well as a little more white.
This time the door clicked softly, and when Kaz pushed on its surface, it swung open slightly. Dax stared at it for a long second, then kicked it open so hard that it bounced off the wall behind it and he had to catch it again. This he did without noticeable discomfort, so Kaz thought he must have been expecting it, and felt an uncomfortable amount of admiration at the realization. He probably would have been smacked in the snout, and while it wouldn’t have hurt him, it certainly would have ruined his entrance.
Thabil and her son, Qiyi, were standing near the glowing image of the city and the surrounding levels that Kaz had once seen Zhangwo use. They spun around at the sharp crack of the door meeting the wall, their eyes widening as Dax held the door open just long enough for Kaz to slip in after him, then slammed it shut in the face of the two guards who had just come around the corner. They began to bang on the door, but everyone inside ignored them.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
“What are you doing here?” Thabil demanded, her face settling into tight lines as she looked around. For a moment it felt uncomfortably like she was looking straight at him, but then he realized she was glaring at the door right behind him.
“I belong here,” Dax growled.
Qiyi snorted, adjusting his long sleeves. Rather than the heavy cloth covered in simple patterns most husede seemed to favor, his clothes looked more like those of Zhangwo or Yanshu, the high-ranked mosui female who had held Lianhua captive because the human’s silver hair matched Yanshu’s white fur. The cloth itself was a rich purple, with glittering golden thread forming what Kaz now recognized as trees and flowers around the edges.
“We’ve invited you to several meetings, and you failed to attend. We assumed you no longer desired the responsibilities of being a Councilor,” he said.
A deep rumble emerged from Dax’s throat, and the fur on the back of his neck stood straight up. “I didn’t want to argue with you miserable jiyun, only to have you ignore everything I said and do what you wanted anyway.”
Qiyi’s eyes widened. “You were outvoted. That’s how this works, though I wouldn’t expect a kobold to understand that.” His lip lifted, but it wasn’t in a snarl of anger. Instead, he looked like a pup had lost control of its bowels before reaching the waste crevice, and he’d just stepped in the resultant mess.
“Forget that,” Thabil said. Her voice was almost as rough as that of a kobold, and there was a fierceness to her gaze that her son entirely lacked. She would have made a credible chief, if she wasn’t so preoccupied with her own power over the well-being of the tribe.
“Where is Kaz?” she demanded. She pointed to the glowing image hanging in the air behind her. “We had reports he was going to the yumi pools, so he must have been looking for you. Is that why you’re here? You think that overblown puppy will help you?”
Overblown puppy? Kaz wasn’t even sure what that meant, but he felt an unexpected anger arise at the words. He was accustomed to being thought less than he was, and usually accepted it, or even encouraged it if he thought it would make his path easier. But he wasn’t a puppy any longer, and something about the words or the way Thabil spoke them awoke something inside him that had slept for most of his life.
“Have you told Nucai he’s here?” Dax demanded. This was why Kaz had come in hiding. If they believed they were in danger, Thabil and Qiyi might claim Nucai already knew Kaz was here, in hopes that he would run. But they had no respect for Dax, and thus had no reason to lie to him.
More of Qiyi’s flat teeth showed. “The reward for handing him over is greater than that for mere information, now tell-”
Thabil elbowed him in the ribs hard enough that Kaz thought he could hear the bones creak. Qiyi clutched at his side, his gray skin paling. “Shut up,” she snapped, but Kaz could tell that she knew she couldn’t bluff her way out of it.
“No,” Thabil admitted. “And if you can bring him to us, we’ll give you part of the reward.” Her eyes glittered. “Better yet, we’ll let you make that kobold, Vase…Vek? A member of the council. Once we have what Nucai has offered, there will be more than enough for everyone, even,” now her lip curled, and this was definitely a snarl, “the mosui.”
Dax settled back on his paws, and his hand fell to the knife at his waist as he said, “I don’t need your permission. You and your son are no longer members of the Council. The husede will have to select someone else, and from now on, there will be equal numbers of kobolds and husede.” He drew in a breath. “And, when the round…when the little mosui are old enough, we will add mosui as well.”
Thabil had listened to the first part of this with open scorn, while Qiyi shook his head, still holding his bruised ribs. But this last sentence was too much, and her face contorted with utter fury. “Never,” she hissed. “Not while I live.”
“I helped you free your people,” Kaz told Thabil quietly. He hadn’t put any power into his mage-blade yet, or it would have simply sliced through her lower jaw. He wanted to give her one more chance, in recognition of the aid she’d given him in saving his friends, however reluctantly it had been offered.
“Why are you attempting to force others to bow to your will now? The kobolds simply wish to share this place, which has become their home as well. You all fought together, but now you’re little better than the mosui,” he said. He thought of the xiyi, who had accidentally taken the dragon’s minds and freedom, then spent the better part of a thousand years atoning for their error. But here were the husede, or at least these two, willingly becoming what they claimed to hate.
“The kobolds are weak,” Thabil rasped. More blood poured down her neck as the tip of Kaz’s blade moved in and out of the wound as she spoke, but she didn’t seem to notice. Her eyes were on Qiyi, who was on the ground beneath Dax’s claws and blade.
Kaz glanced in that direction as well, and Thabil moved. It was an abortive attempt, because Kaz pulsed the tiniest amount of ki into his weapon, and it sliced through her flesh like the soft cheese Kyla had become so fond of. “How weak can we be,” Kaz asked quietly, “if two of us have taken down the two of you with so little effort?”
“We…weren’t expecting-” Qiyi gasped, but his mother scowled at him, and he stopped. Bloody spittle flecked her mouth, but Kaz’s knife hadn’t yet dug deep enough to cause it, so she must have bitten her lip or tongue when she moved.
“We built this city,” Thabil said. “Kobolds came here to die, but we lived. Every day, we rose and worked beneath the mosui’s paws, and when we saw a chance to be free, we took it. We did that. We were stolen from our homes and forced to become something other, and now we can’t go back, so this is our home.” Blood ran from the corner of her mouth, joining that which already stained her collar. “It’s all we have left, and we will keep it.”
Kaz wondered what she would say if she knew that the kobolds and the mosui were not so different as she believed. Their ancestors, too, had been stolen away, and made into something they never could have imagined. Only their very bodies had been warped and twisted, while at least other husede would recognize the female standing before him.
He felt oddly sad as he said, “If I let you live, will you go quietly? Either leave the city, or stay but work as just another person? Leave the kobolds and the mosui alone?” He already knew the answer, but it would be better from her own mouth.
She looked him in the eye, and said, “I would rather die,” and then she did exactly that. Gently, Kaz lowered the body to the ground, cupping the back of her head so it wouldn’t strike the stone floor. He had seen so much death, and much of it was utterly unnecessary, but there was something so terrible about a death brought about by a person’s unwillingness to let go of hatred. Would he have thought so only a few months ago? Or would he simply have been glad that it was over?
Now that it was done, Li reappeared and came to land on Kaz’s back, clinging in such a way that he could feel her reassuring presence, but she wouldn’t be in the way if he needed to fight. Turning to Qiyi, he looked down at the husede.
“And you?” he asked quietly. “Will you follow your mother to your ancestors, or remain here to howl her on her way?” He glanced at Dax. “I warn you, if you remain, no one will trust you. You’ll be watched for the rest of your life, no less hated than the mosui, at least by the kobolds.”
“What do I care about kobolds, you-” Qiyi struggled, and Dax dug his claws into the husede’s sides. Kaz couldn’t see much blood on the bright robes, so he knew Qiyi must have some of the body cultivation that naturally came with the husede’s accumulation of mana, but it still had to hurt, and Qiyi wasn’t one to fight through pain.
Qiyi’s eyes fell on Thabil’s body, and his face twisted. It didn’t look like grief, not quite, but something more like fear and uncertainty. “Fine. I won’t fight. But everyone will know-”
Kaz crouched by Qiyi’s face, holding out the knife that still gleamed wet and red. If he gave it power, it would clean itself, but right now the reminder of what it had done was more important. “No,” he said, “they won’t.” He could see the response forming, so he looked at Dax again.
“We know what you’ve been doing,” Dax said, sounding both weary and furious. “You killed two of the adult mosui in the last week. It’s possible no one would care about that, but did you know that kobolds are very good at smelling blood? My warriors found the kobolds and young mosui as well. You didn’t even bother to burn them. You didn’t want anyone else coming here, did you? And it was easy enough to kill those who managed to make their way through the fulan, and to find ways to avoid attempting to rescue anyone still alive above and below these levels.”
Kaz felt a cold chill and then a hot flash of fury go through him at this revelation. Dax hadn’t mentioned it, or Kaz wouldn’t have even offered the husede a chance. How could someone do something so terrible? Just because they saw those others as ‘less’, and didn’t want them in their city?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Qiyi tried, but Dax pressed his blade against the husede’s throat.
“Your scent is all over them,” he said. “The others don’t know your smell from that of any other husede, but I do. I’d kill you in a heartbeat, if I didn’t think your people might turn on us if both you and your mother die here today. You husede have your ‘trials’, and I’ll hand you over to the new councilors so they can decide what to do with you.”
At this, Qiyi’s eyes closed, and Kaz could see the fight drain from his body. He still didn’t trust the husede, but Dax knew this city and its people best. If he believed Qiyi needed to survive in order to preserve peace, Kaz wouldn’t challenge that.
“Can you reach the husede you want to talk to?” Kaz asked Dax. The older kobold had had a chance to get to know some of the other husede since the mosui were killed, and hoped that without Thabil, one of the more tolerant ones would be selected for the Council. Kaz had been happy to discover that one of these was Kedia, the female who had recorded the Sharpjaw dead into her book.
Dax nodded. “From here, I can use crystals to speak to several buildings throughout town. I am a Councilor, so even if they don’t know why I’m howling for them, they should come.”
Now that the worst was over, Dax had relaxed his grip on his prisoner, and Qiyi abruptly rolled to one side, shoving off the much-lighter kobold. Dax tumbled backwards, his claws slipping from the mana-infused flesh, and Qiyi bolted - not for the door to the corridor, but for the one that Kaz knew led to Nucai’s mirror. Before Kaz could react, Li was lunging over him, her body growing as she did so, until she was as long and heavy as Kaz. Her jaws clamped on Qiyi’s neck, and he fell, his hand falling from the door handle as he slumped bonelessly to the ground.
Li said, blood dripping from her jaws. Kaz felt his heart clench, and he crossed to her, using his fuulong silk robe to gently clean her scales to their usual pristine gleam.