The Hearts of Dragons (17 page)

In spite of the hostile
Kodamas surrounding her, Minawë couldn’t help but feel awed by Aokigahara.
Every step through the rainforest brought something new. Even in the dark,
she’d lost count of the number of different plant species she’d seen.

But it was more than the
variety. This place had an energy to it, a force that surged through her.
Rondel had been right, perhaps more than she’d realized. Aokigahara wasn’t at
all like Ziorsecth. Ziorsecth had immense magic, but its dominance by a single
plant gave that magic structure. Aokigahara had no such order. Its magic was
like a flood. The untamed power made Minawë dizzy, yet part of her longed to
immerse herself in it.

Not that she would have
a chance to do that. Her ability to hear the plants’ voices had vanished when
her captors had taken away the Chloryoblaka.

“Keep moving,” the guard
behind her barked. He shoved her.

Minawë winced. Just as
Aokigahara differed from Ziorsecth, these Kodamas were unlike her northern kin.
They seemed as wild as the forest around them, and it didn’t matter whether
they were male or female. The women were as battle-hardened as the men, and
their bodies were equally adorned with tattoos, weapons, and scars.

Their violent demeanor
aside, Minawë’s captors peaked her interest. All her life, she had believed
there were no other Kodamas besides those in Ziorsecth. The rest had died from
Iren Saito’s curse.

She wasn’t surprised
that Kodamas could live here. Aokigahara had at least as much magic as Ziorsecth,
if not more.

Ahead of Minawë, Rondel
slumped and nearly fell. Her trio of guards hauled her to her feet amid fresh
punches and kicks.

Minawë grated her teeth.
She wished she could do something. As much as the Kodamas had struck her, those
beatings paled in comparison to what they’d done to Rondel. The Maantec was a
bleeding mess.

They traveled all night.
As dawn approached, Minawë stumbled more often. She’d been awake almost twenty-four
hours now. All she wanted to do was sleep, but still they marched through the
wet brush.

“Blindfolds from here,”
her guard snapped, and before she could protest, a strip of cloth covered her
eyes. Minawë struggled for a moment, but a blow to her stomach convinced her to
stop. Fierce hands gripped her arms and guided her forward.

After another hour of
tough hiking, Minawë felt cold steel between her hands. It jerked, and her
bonds fell away. “Up,” her guard ordered.

Reaching out, Minawë
found the rungs of a rope ladder and climbed. The ladder ended in a wooden
floor, and she heaved herself onto it. Guards grabbed her again and held her
arms. They stayed that way for several minutes before she heard grumping behind
her.

“Tramp me through a
soggy jungle in the dead of night, then make me climb this ridiculous ladder
one-handed. What way is this to treat an old woman?”

Minawë smiled, but it
died when a loud
smack
rang out. “Shut your mouth, Maantec spy!”

“Leave her alone!”
Minawë shouted before she could stop herself. Just as quickly, a sharp pain
slapped across her face.

“That’s enough!” a male
voice boomed. Even though Minawë was blind, she could sense everyone nearby
freeze.

“Lord Narunë,” a guard
said, “we captured these spies at the cliff wall. They were carrying Ryokaiten.
We thought you’d want to interrogate them.”

“Thank you,” the male
voice replied. “Now leave us; I’d like a word with these spies in private.”

There was a pause. It
was as if no one could believe what the man called Narunë had said but couldn’t
work up the courage to contradict him. Finally, one of the Kodamas murmured,
“Lord Narunë, to have Ryokaiten, they must be exceptional mages. Are you sure
it’s wise to—”

“I said, ‘Leave us!’”

That settled the matter.
There was a scuffling as the guards around Minawë made their way back down the
ladder.

Silence followed for a
few moments. Then without warning, Minawë’s blindfold was ripped away.

She blinked in the
sudden brightness. The sun had risen, and the mist spread its light such that
everything seemed aglow. She and Rondel stood on a wooden platform wedged high
in a tree. The structure had no walls or ceiling; the tree’s giant, waxy leaves
formed a better roof than anything a person could make.

Minawë gazed about in
wonder. The mist wasn’t as thick as it had been when they’d descended the
cliff, so she could see a good distance. Every tree in sight had at least one
platform identical to this one, and on each platform sat at least one Kodama.

Their presence astounded
her. There were hundreds of them, at least as many as lived in the entirety of
Ziorsecth. In Minawë’s wildest dreams, she’d never imagined there could be so
many, let alone in a single community.

Unlike Minawë, Rondel
didn’t seem to care about the scenery. She glared at the Kodama before them,
and in particular at the bow he held in one hand and the broken dagger clutched
in the other.

Minawë had spent enough
time with Rondel to know the old woman was searching for a way to retrieve
their weapons and escape. But it was impossible. If Minawë got hers and flew
away as a bird, the Kodamas in the other trees would shoot her from the sky. As
for Rondel, she would have to descend via the rope ladder, making her a
similarly easy target. This open platform imprisoned them as effectively as the
finest dungeon.

While their prison
lacked walls, it did have a jailer. He looked the part too. The man called
Narunë stood a head taller than any Kodama Minawë had met in Ziorsecth, and his
shoulders were twice as broad as Iren’s. He wore no shirt, and tattoos of
fierce animals Minawë had never seen covered his bronzed skin.

“So,” Narunë said,
“Maantec spy, is it?”

“We’re not spies,”
Rondel spat.

Narunë looked her over.
“You’re a Maantec, and you were spying at the cliff base. I’d say that makes
you a Maantec spy, wouldn’t you?”

“We weren’t spying.
We’re travelers.”

“No one travels to
Aokigahara.” Narunë held up the broken rondel. “Besides, I know what this is,
Rondel Thara.”

Minawë tensed, and
Narunë flicked his eyes to her. “That proves it. You are Rondel. You look
different from the last time I saw you.”

Rondel cocked an eyebrow.
“Well, you look like the same wild man as before. No wonder Otunë chose you to
lead this crazy expedition.”

Narunë threw his head
back and laughed, a deep bellow. His right eye closed while he did it. He
wrapped his burly arms around Rondel and lifted her into the air. “You look
like a dried up mango!” he cried. “Last I saw you, you were young and
beautiful. What happened?”

“It’s a long story,”
Rondel replied, a smile on her face despite her awkward position. “A thousand-year-long
one, to be precise.”

“I want to hear it,”
Narunë said. He released the old Maantec and stepped back. “First things first,
though.” He faced Minawë. “Who’s this you’ve brought with you?”

“I would have thought
the bow you’re holding would be all the clue you needed. This is Minawë,
daughter of Otunë.”

Narunë’s gray eyes
looked Minawë up and down. “She is about the right height, I guess. There isn’t
much resemblance otherwise. Though in truth, little one, that’s to your
benefit. My brother never was much to look at.” He paused, then put on a big
grin. “Speaking of Otunë, how is he these days? Still the same stoic bastard?”

Rondel probably answered
him, but Minawë didn’t hear her. She was too busy absorbing what Narunë had
just said.

He had called Otunë “my
brother.” This wild, tattooed man was her uncle.

Iren read the diary’s
opening line again and again, wishing it would change. “My name is Iren Saito.”

In a flash Iren
understood why Hana had refused to read the book to him back in Tropos. He’d
believed it was his father’s diary, but it wasn’t. It had been written by Iren
Saito, former emperor of the Maantecs and dead for a thousand years.

Iren let the book slip
from his hands. Since Melwar had offered to help him regain his magic, Iren had
no longer cared about the book providing clues about that. Still, he’d hoped it
would give him a link to his parents.

With a curse, Iren laid
back on his futon, his hands behind his head. He couldn’t care less about Iren
Saito. The emperor was a madman. He’d led his race to near extinction trying to
conquer Raa. Worse, when he realized he would lose, he had killed himself to
curse the Kodamas. He’d committed suicide and doomed two species merely to
avoid the shame of defeat.

It was just as well that
the diary was worthless. The language lessons, while interesting, diverted
Iren’s attention from the real issue of breaching the wall that kept him from
his magic. He could communicate in Maantec, at least enough to be understood.
When he next saw Hana, he would tell her she didn’t need to bother teaching him
anymore.

His mind made up, Iren
fell asleep easily, but his dream returned. He was back in the house, sitting
with his wife and looking at his child. The knock at the door came. Like
before, when he opened it, no one was there.

The next morning Iren
arrived at the garden early and took the opportunity to stretch. By the time
Melwar and Hana arrived, he had warmed up. He took his stance. Instead of
attacking first, as he often did, Iren examined every inch of Hana for a sign
of what her actions would be.

Hana made the first
attack, and Iren blocked it with ease. He countered, but it was a feint. He
wanted to feel her out and expose her right side. From their many duels, Iren
had learned that Hana’s defense was slower on that side. It wasn’t by much, but
it was enough to give him a chance of victory.

Hana sidestepped Iren’s
feint and attacked his head, but he saw the strike almost before she committed
to it. Something about the way her body moved and the positioning of her arms
told him she was going to use an overhead blow. He dodged and struck at her
left side. He didn’t want to give away that he knew about her weakness. Hana
deflected his blow at the last second, but he came closer to striking her than
he ever had before.

As their duel
intensified, their speeds increased until the wooden swords blurred. Iren’s
eyes glazed over even as they studied Hana with utmost intensity. His thoughts
drifted.

Then he heard a strange
music. It swayed in a fast, uneven beat, and he couldn’t help but time himself
to it.

The pair fought evenly
for a time, but then Iren caught a change in Hana. She breathed harder. Her
sword dipped. Her face scrunched in frustration, and in that moment Iren knew
he would win.

There it was! His last
block had knocked Hana’s sword hard to the left, and she had lost her balance.
The right side of her body seemed to scream, “Hit me! I’m open!” Without any
thought, Iren swung.

The wooden blade crashed
into Hana just below her rib cage. She dropped to her knees in the cold sand
and grasped the impact site with both hands.

Melwar stepped between
them to end the contest. The moment he did, a veil fell away from Iren’s eyes.
He blinked several times. At some point during the fight, the sun had risen
high enough to brighten the courtyard. They’d started their match at dawn; they
must have fought for hours. To Iren it felt like seconds, and part of him
wondered if the duel had happened at all. It felt less real than the dreams
about his wife and child.

“Congratulations, Iren,”
Melwar said, “you win.”

Iren bowed first to the
Maantec lord and then to Hana. “Thank you for an excellent fight,” he said.

Hana stood and returned
Iren’s bow, but she had a look in her eyes that unsettled him. Despite the sun
overhead, her pupils were dilated. Her expression was one of hunger.

A moment later Hana
collected herself. She asked to be excused and then left the garden. She
stumbled the entire way.

“Did I hurt her that
badly?” Iren asked.

“No,” Melwar said, “if I
had to guess, I would say you exhausted her. You gave her a fight the likes of
which she has never experienced. You gave me the same thing, for that matter. I
have never seen a duel last so long.”

As if in response to
Melwar’s words, fatigue struck Iren. His vision grayed, and he had to sit down.
“Wha. . .what’s happening?” he panted.

“You were on the verge
of falling too. I knew one of you would make a mistake soon and lose, but I
could not tell who it would be.”

“Then why didn’t I feel
tired until just now?”

Melwar looked down at him
but didn’t answer.

Iren’s vision slowly
returned to normal, though his lightheadedness remained. Hoping he wasn’t being
rude, he laid back in the sand and gulped air to calm his hammering pulse.

“Are you going to pass
out?” Melwar asked.

Iren took a final deep
breath. The worst seemed to have passed. “I don’t think so.”

“Good. I do not like
repeating myself, and the answer to your question is important. I would not
give it if you were going to faint partway through.”

“I appreciate your
concern,” Iren said with only the mildest trace of sarcasm. “So now will you
explain what happened to me?”

Melwar nodded. “You have
a rare trait. You can use No Mind.”

“No Mind?”

“The first masters of it
gave it that name to describe what happened to them. Tell me, what do you
remember about your fight with Hana?”

“Nothing,” Iren said.
“It was dawn a minute ago, or so it seems.”

“That is No Mind: a
state lacking conscious thought. Rather than waste time making decisions, the
body combines keen observation with muscle memory to react instantly. At first
I doubted you could use it, given how poorly you judge social situations. It
seems you are more discerning in battle.”

Iren thought back. “When
I left Haldessa with Rondel last year, thieves ambushed us our first night out.
I fought four of them at once. I didn’t have combat training, yet I defeated
them easily. The whole time, I heard music in my head, as though the fight were
set to it.”

“No Mind users often
describe the rhythm of battle as musical,” Melwar said. “You must have entered
No Mind in that fight without realizing it. It is good that you did; No Mind is
likely the reason you survived that night. Had you been thinking clearly, you
no doubt would have felt confusion about how to move, reluctance about
committing to an attack, and horror over your first murder. No Mind frees the
brain from such emotions and lets the natural impulse to survive take control.
It is a powerful technique, one few enemies can stop. That said, it is not
something to use often.”

“Why not?”

Melwar pointed down at
him, still lying on his back. “That is why. When you are in No Mind, your body
only thinks about survival. It does not concern itself with petty details like
exhaustion. If the battle does not end, your body will keep fighting until it drops.”

Iren recalled the way
Hana had struggled away from the training ground. “Can Hana use No Mind?”

“Yes, though she has to
fight a while before the trance hits. That is why she could never defeat me in
a duel, and thus why fighting me is your next challenge.”

“What do you mean?”

“Even with the pain
training I have given you, I cannot truly prepare you for the intensity of
breaking your body’s magical barrier. If your mind is conscious, the agony will
overwhelm and kill you. But if you are unconscious, your body will not be able
to resist my shadow magic, and you will also die. For our attempt to succeed,
you need to be awake and at full strength, yet you must also lack conscious
thought.”

“In other words, I can’t
rely on battle to enter No Mind,” Iren said. “To regain my magic, I need to be
able to enter it at any time.”

“Exactly, and that is
what you will need to do in order to hit me. I can also use No Mind, and I can
enter it seconds after starting a fight. At the risk of boasting, no Maantec
can enter No Mind faster than I can. If you want to hit me, you will need to
surpass me. You must enter the trance before we start, so that whatever move I
make, you can react to it and defeat me in one blow.”

The Maantec lord put his
back to Iren and stepped off the sand. “We will forgo your pain training today.
Call it a reward for defeating Hana. Besides, you are not in any condition to
face it. Continue to come here at dawn, and you and I will fight.”

Iren raised his head.
“Wait a second. If even you need to enter battle to use No Mind, how can I do
it without fighting?”

“If I knew that, I would
be able to do it too,” Melwar said over his shoulder. “To be honest, I have my
doubts that it is even possible. But if you ever want to use magic again, this
is the only way.”