The Way of Things: Upper Kingdom Boxed Set: Books 1, 2 and 3 in the Tails of the Upper Kingdom (103 page)

“Yes.”

“I read about them in the
University.”

“By the Kingdom, Kirin, you’ve
landed on your feet. Yours is the Luck now. First, as always.”

 
“And you’ve journeyed across the world with a wife and an
Ancestor. If that’s not destiny, Kerris—”

“It
is
destiny, brother.
The Tao wheel rejoices in us for a change.”

Kirin regarded his brother. It
was hard to tell with Kerris whether he was being hurtful or simply truthful.
He seemed happy enough. With such a wife and kittens, he should be the happiest
man in all the Kingdom.

“It is an honour to meet you
once again,” said Bo Fujihara with a smile, and Kirin lifted his eyes to study
the ambassador. “You have not changed
so
much, Shogun-sama. The Fangs
suit you.”

“Mine is the honour,
sidi,”
replied Kirin. “Although I never could have imagined you traveling with my
brother and his family.”

“They are most intriguing,
Shogun-sama. Especially this little Lada.
Chi’Chen
children are not like
this.”

Kirin winced again as the kitten
tugged on his hair. “Most feline children are not, either…”

Fallon laughed and swept the
little girl up in her arms.

“Soladad is the bad one, isn’t
she? She reminds me of Ursa. Bad and feisty and tough as a yak.”

The kitten snuggled into her
mother’s arms, threw a look back at her uncle and hissed.

“But our Kirin, on the other
hand…”

The second kitten, a little boy
with great blue-green eyes, pressed his face into his father’s chest, hiding.

“Kirin is the thoughtful one,
aren’t you my son?” Kerris ran a hand over the boy’s head, trying to smooth the
unruly grey hair. “He’s very smart, like his mother. But quieter.”

“Hey!” laughed Fallon. “I am
quiet. I’m quiet and thoughtful and peaceful. I’m Wood, remember.”

“Oh yes. You are as quiet as a
tree, my love.”

She sat back, leaning into him
and the kittens climbed between them, mewling and batting each other and Kirin
felt a rush of emotion, bitter and sweet and sad. He reined it in, took a deep
breath.

“So why are you here, Kerris?
Like this, with your children and a
Chi’Chen
army? How did you get here
and what do you want?”

Kerris and Bo exchanged glances,
Kerris drained the sakeh from his flask and sat up, kittens sliding from his
chest into his lap, their tiny claws snagging on the fabric as they went.

“There are Ancestors, Kirin,” he
began. “Many Ancestors and they are dangerous.”

“We thought as much.”

“No, we didn’t think enough.” He
turned and motioned to one of the snow monkey guards. In diplomatic circles,
they were called “the snow guard” or simply “the snow.” The man stepped
forward, dropped a large satchel wrapped in black cloth and gold cording.
Kerris rolled up to his knees, began to unwrap both cloth and cord.

“Oh mother,” sighed the tigress.
“I hate that thing.”

She scooped the kittens into her
arms and moved toward the windows, began to rock them, one on each hip.

With a flourish, Kerris folded
the cloth away to reveal a strange instrument of tarnished metal. It was long,
cylindrical and seemed to have many interlocking parts. Kirin sat forward.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Breath of the MAIDEN,” said
Kerris. “A weapon, like a cannon. And this is only one of them. They have so
many different kinds. We brought back what we could.”

Kirin reached for the weapon,
picked it up with his gloved hands. Felt the weight of it, the dark chi. It was
not even remotely like a sword and he found he didn’t know how to hold it.

“Here,” said Kerris. “Like
this.”

And he took it from his brother,
hiked it onto his shoulder and aimed the thing toward one of the large panes of
flat glass.

“Out of the way, luv,” he called
and the tigress nodded, tucking her kittens into her chest. She moved to stand
behind them all.

There was a strange hum then a
flash of light and the guards, Imperial and Snow, leapt back, utterly breaching
their training. A circle glowed in the center of the glass for a long moment,
before turning smoky, then white, then crumbling away entirely. Left was a
large hole open to the night sky and a sharp, blue scent on the wind.

The kittens began to wail and
Kirin found his heart thudding wildly in his chest.

“Breath of the MAIDEN,” said
Kerris again as he laid the weapon back in its cloth, bound it with the gold
cord and handed it over to the snow guard. He looked at Ambassador Han.

“Sorry about the glass.”

The ambassador was speechless.

Now Kerris turned to his
brother.

“We need to be ready, Kirin, for
when they come. And not just us. We won’t be enough to stop them. All our
swords and bows, even our cannons won’t be enough to chase them off. They will
want what we have and they will take it.” He glanced at Fujihara, then back
again. “No, the only thing that will stop them will be unity. All the Kingdoms
presenting a united front against them.”

Fujihara nodded, laid a bound
scroll onto the black table. “The Capuchin Council has approved this request,
Shogun-sama, as has Emperor Watanabe. We have commissioned all men between the
ages of twelve and seventy to join the army for training, and any women that
have either the interest or the skill. This is a petition from
Lha’Lhasa
for the Empress, requesting that your people do the same.”

Kirin stared at the scroll for
some time, before looking to Ambassador Han. “You know of this request?”

The Ambassador bowed so that his
forehead touched the table. “I do, Shogun-sama. With orange and white fires
burning, it seemed prudent not to waste time on protocol.”

Kirin rose to his feet, moved to
the windows where snow was beginning to swirl in through the hole in the glass.
He could see the dark mountains through it, the lanterns from the embassy and
the lights of the army across the river. Could smell the snow now, and the
sharp bite of very cold water. He clasped his hands behind his back.

“But why an army? Surely, this
request could have been delivered by Ambassador Fujihara himself, even without
our beloved Kaidan.” He turned now to face them. “This army is not the might of
the eastern empire, I know it is not. And it is not a show of force, for that
is no way to secure an alliance. What is your plan, Kerris? I am here as the
representative of the Empress. Tell me now or I will not consider any of this.”

Kerris grinned, rose to his feet
as well. He bowed a formal bow to his brother and for some reason it set
Kirin’s teeth on edge.

“You’re right, of course, Kirin.
The army is not here as a show of force or a bargaining tool or anything of the
sort. As I said, we need all the Kingdoms united.” He inclined his head.
“All
of them.”

Kirin frowned. His brother was
saying something but it was eluding him. He looked first to Fujihara. The man
raised his pale brows, nodded grimly. He looked to Ambassador Han, then Captain
Windsor-Chan but they had no answer. Finally, he looked to the tigress, both
kittens dozing now as she rocked from side to side. She tried to smile and her
emerald eyes were singing songs of compassion and understanding and courage and
pain.

And he knew.

“No,” he said.

“Kirin,” Kerris started.

“No,”
he growled. “Not
now. Not ever.”

“We need them, Kirin.”

He strode to the rice paper
door, slid it open past the imperial guards and the snow guards, turned his
body for barely a moment.

“There will never be peace with
the kingdom of dogs,” he growled. “Not while I am alive.”

The rap of his tail left marks
in the floor and he turned and left the Friendship Room in silence.

***

Once again, Setse was weeping.

The ceiling of the little gar
shone with frost, branches and stars glittering through the frozen silks. He
had fallen asleep while holding her but had awoken to her sobs—soft and
quiet and heartbreaking. The witch was gone. She had slipped out during the
night, left her baby curled in Setse’s arms and it was a very strange sensation
for him to be this close to one of the Enemy. It was making an odd growling
sound in its throat, but it seemed contented and it rose and fell with the
baby’s breathing. It was a soothing counterpoint to Setse’s weeping.

“Oh Rani,” Setse moaned. “I
should have let them take me. I should have gone with them. I was so weak…”

He hushed her, stroked her hair.
He didn’t know what she was referring to, didn’t know what else to do. She was
inconsolable.

“Now everything will be gone
because I was afraid. We can go back. We must go back.”

“Setse, please. Hush now.
There’s nothing to be done.”

“I’m so sorry, Rani…”

“And what about your Ulaan
Baator? Don’t you want to meet him?”

She lifted her eyes to his.

“Ulaan Baator?”

“Yes, you said he was coming,
didn’t you? You said he’d change things, make things right, remember?”

He had no idea what he was
saying to her but it just seemed wise to use her own words. She was still such
a puzzle and growing worse.

She nodded, sniffed, nodded
again. “Yes. Yes he will. People die all the time, isn’t that right, Rani?”

“Yes.” He lowered his head,
exhausted. “Yes they do…”

She nodded once more, sat up and
wiped her cheeks. “Death is not a bad thing.”

“Only a bad death is a bad
thing. That’s what grandfather used to say.”

“Grandfather.” She smiled through
her tears. “The Blue Wolf.”

“Yes,” he said. “He was the Blue
Wolf of Karan’Uurt, respected by Khans and kings alike.”

“Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat.”

“Setse…”

“Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat,” she
whispered. “Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat. Blue Wolf, Yellow Cat.”

And she began to rock.

He sighed, stroked her hair and
waited for the witch to return.

***

Kerris slid the rice paper door
closed and sighed. The room was quiet, the light just beginning to break into
the single pane of glass that overlooked the gorge. It could easily have been
brighter had not the shadows of the mountains blocked everything. Earth was a
belligerent ally now. It had been a hard-won truce.

Fallon was standing at the
window. He could see her in the dark, a mere silhouette with her back to him,
arms wrapped around her ribs. He crossed the floor to stand behind her, slipped
his hands around her waist. Even after twins, there was nothing to her. A gust
of wind could tip her over.

He kissed her neck and she
shuddered. Weeping, he knew, or trying not to.

“Well?” she asked, her voice
quiet. The kittens were sleeping, a jumble of arms, legs and tails on a cushion
by the wall.

“He won’t talk to me,” said
Kerris. “He won’t even open the door.”

She nodded. “It’s still hard on
him. I can tell.”

“Well, regardless, he’ll need to
go back to
Pol’Lhasa
. You’ll all go with him. It’s not terribly far, two
days at most.”

“Kerris…” she moaned and turned
in his arms, cupped his face in her lightning white hands. “Two thousand
Chi’Chen
soldiers against even a single Legion might have a chance, but against the
entire Lower Kingdom?”

“We’re not starting a war.”

“You won’t be coming back.”

He smiled. “You don’t know that.
I might.”

She leaned her forehead in to
rest against his, said nothing. She didn’t need to.

“Remember,” he said. “It’s a
diplomatic mission. If I can speak to the Khan, I might be able to convince
him. Especially if I bring the weapon. He’ll see. He’ll understand.”

“You won’t make it to the Khan.”

“It’s the only way. I need to
make him understand. I can’t believe he won’t listen. I can’t believe that.
Otherwise, well, you know…”

She nodded. He sighed.

“The kittens should do well in
the Imperial Nursery.”

She smiled now. “Mongrel kittens
in the Imperial Nursery.”

“Stranger things have happened,
luv. Never forget that.”

“I won’t.”

“If they won’t allow it, then
you go home with Kirin. To our home. If Mummie’s still alive, she’ll be
delighted to meet you.”

“And our mongrel babies.”

“Honestly, I don’t think she’ll
care at this point. She never had her stars pinned on an advantageous marriage.
Not for me.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “And look what I got. I still have
more than my share of luck, don’t I? Because I have you.”

She was not so easily placated.
As stubborn as a yak.

“What if I can speak to Kirin? Make
him understand?”

“Well, that was our deal, wasn’t
it? If Kirin is in, then we have troops. And if we have both Upper and Eastern
Kingdoms represented, we stand a chance at convincing the dogs and avoiding a
whole lot of unnecessary bloodshed in the process. So yes, my love. If you can
manage to convince my brother to send some feline troops with us, allow us to
use the Wall until we reach
Shen’foxhindi,
then you may take your
chances along with the rest of us.”

“And the kittens will still go
to
Pol’Lhasa.”

“The kittens will still go to
Pol’Lhasa.”

“Do you have a dagger?”

“What? A dagger?”

“Yep. A dagger. Do you have one?
I know you do. It’s in your boot.”

“Why?”

She kissed the tip of
his
nose now.

“I might need it when I go.”

“Go where?”

“To convince your brother.” She
smiled sweetly. “That was the deal.”

“Ah. Hassasin now, are we?”

She grinned. “I prefer to think
of myself as a resourceful diplomat.”

He reached down a hand to slip
it up and out of his yak-hide boots. He passed it, hilt-first, into her waiting
hand.