Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (38 page)

I'm
. . . amazed.

I've never felt power like this, I've never felt as
balanced as this.

More than that, I have never felt as in tune with
magic as I do now. It's as though I could send out a blast so
powerful, it could part the heavens in two. And who knows, with the
amount of magic now surging through my body, maybe I can.

My Arak device feels as though it’s melted completely
into my wrist—the spirit of magic within becoming indistinguishable
from my own essence.

If Yin hadn't convinced me to teach her the fan
dance, I would never have felt this. I would never have known it
was even possible.

For the past three weeks I've given little thought to
anything other than training the Princess and finding out Garl's
secrets.

I've forgotten Castor's warning that I must reconnect
to my magic.

Now
. . . I understand it.

I'm still not convinced about his story. I still
haven't found enough to condemn Garl, but what I have found has not
cleared his name. In fact, if anything, it's only made me more
suspicious.

There have been too
many cover-ups, too many coincidences. Untimely deaths,
rebellious villagers silenced.

I want to believe he’s not capable of it, but that
desire is slowly being overrun with truth.

Garl may not be as guilty as Castor wants me to
believe, but I'm starting to find out he's not as innocent as I
want to believe either.

But now, on top of that, I have something else to
think about.

. . .
.

Before I saw Yin this morning, I was weighed down
with fatigue and responsibility. The mounting stresses of helping
to train the Princess compounded with my suspicions of Garl, have
produced a treacherous mix.

Now, however, I feel as though I can take on the
world.

I feel more connected with my Arak device and my
magic than I ever have before. It's no cold, numbing connection.
It's invigorating.

It gives me the energy I need to march up those
Palace stairs and be prepare for whatever might meet me.

I can't be sure
nobody saw Yin and I
practicing. I hope
they didn't, but for all I know, Garl may have popped back into his
office, only to see me . . . lost in movement.

I just have to find out.

If I walk into the Palace only to have him charge me
with treason, so be it.

But as I do walk into the Palace, it's not to the
sight of a ruddy cheeked Garl ready to chop my head off.

Instead the Princess comes running up to me, and
hooks an arm around mine.

She looks so very
happy to see me, her cheeks spreading wide in a warm
smile
. “Where have you been? Everybody's
here, and we've been waiting for you.”

“I was unavoidably
detained. I apologize, your Highness.”

“I told you,” she
says as she presses her hand into my arm, “you don't have to stand
on ceremony with me.”

I nod.

“I didn't want to
begin until you were here. I want you here for this,” she says as
the happy tone to her voice wavers.

My eyebrows
immediately crumple
. “What do you
mean?”

“They've found
another scroll,” she says excitedly, except excitement quickly
gives way to fear. “The record keepers. About the Savior. About my
legend.”

I swallow and nod.

“It will tell me what
I have to do next. The challenges I have to pass in order to
develop the skills I need.”

I swallow and nod again.

I should be thinking only of the critically important
news the Princess is sharing. Instead, all I can think of is how it
felt to have Yin move around me seamlessly, fluidly, the two of us
in perfect balance.

“Everybody is waiting
in the records room.”

Everybody. Which means Castor will be there.

The same
Castor
who told me if I ever lay a hand
on Yin, he would rip my throat out.

Well I haven't hurt her, but I can't help feeling
that if the old man ever found out I taught her the fan dance, he
might just rip my throat out anyway.

I'm treading a fine line, and I know that. But I
can't stop.

I don't know who to trust anymore. With the questions
over Garl, my world is slowly crumbling.

Now I wonder whether I've been looking for trust in
the wrong circles.

Whether I've been looking for certainty in the wrong
place.

It’s true that I still don't know what's happening.
Though the dance was invigorating and powerful, it hasn't changed
what's happening to me. From the looming threat of the end of the
age, to Garl—all of that remains.

Yet, I feel more certain than I ever have.

Because it has shifted my focus.

With the power running through my veins, and the
knowledge of what I managed to do alongside Yin, I realize I
shouldn't be caught up in what the world can do to me.

I should concentrate on what I can do to it.

I am not powerless.

The odds may seem insurmountable, but as I learnt
today, there are forces out there I can rely on.

So I don’t shake. I walk on, my head held high.

When we reach the records room, those truly gaunt
record keepers are waiting for us. Along with General Garl and
Castor.

“Yang, so nice of you
to finally join us,” Garl says.

I don't cower. I
nod
. “You have my apologies. I was
unavoidably detained,” I say, sharing nothing more. If he asks for
an excuse, I'll think of one. For now, I'll act as if I don't have
a thing to hide.

“We should get
going,” the Princess says as she walks up behind me. She's standing
close, and I can tell she probably wants to hook her arm back into
mine. Thankfully she contains herself.

The two record keepers bow to the Princess, then they
wave us forward. We go down the stairs, flight after fight, until
we reach the base of the library.

My stomach steadily becomes more and more clenched. I
can remember what happened the last time I went down here. That
book, the scroll with the glowing handwriting and the blood soaked
hand prints.

It's enough to make me want to turn around and run
away. But considering the confidence still burning within me, I
step forward and hide my true feelings.

The Princess walks ahead with the two record keepers,
Garl just behind them, and I try to take up the rear guard. Try,
because Castor keeps falling behind. As he does, he draws alongside
me, and I can see him looking at me carefully.

“What?” I ask through
clenched teeth.

“I see you have been
taking my advice,” he says in a whisper.

My eyes draw wide as my heartbeat reverberates
through my chest.

Does he know I'm investigating Garl? I've been so
careful, trying so hard to keep my questions as discrete as
possible.

“You are no longer
denying your emotions, and somehow, you have found a way to
reconnect with the essence of your magic. You have a long way to go
yet,” Castor notes as his eyes still pierce through me, “but you
have started.”

I don't say anything.

“I admit, I didn't
think you could do it,” Castor says quietly. In fact, his words are
so carefully whispered that I doubt anyone can hear them apart from
me. Even if Garl were standing right between us, I doubt he would
be able to pick up what Castor is saying now.

For Castor is once more using that strange,
unquantifiable magic.

“I don't need your
advice,” I say defensively.

“Then stop listening
to it,” Castor challenges.

I take a calming breath, drawing on the latent
tingles of energy that still fill me from the dance.

They bolster me better than building a wall around my
heart.

In fact, though I can feel Castor trying to undermine
me, I don't succumb to it as easily.

“Whatever you're
doing, I suggest you keep doing it. Then you will find the true
power of Arak summoning. The secrets that have been hidden for too
long. Keep digging until you uncover the secrets, Captain. For you
need to know everything,” Castor says as he breaks away and marches
up to the Princess.

She’s standing before that eerie bone plinth.

Just approaching it makes me feel sick.

But not as sick as Castor's words have left me.

My stomach churns.
What secrets? Is he talking about more than Garl's
cheered history?

What does Castor know?

I want to ask him directly. Throw all caution to the
wind, and just stride forward, look the man in the eye, and demand
he tell me what he's up to.

If Yin were here, she would do it. She doesn't hold
back for anything or anyone.

Just thinking about
her
centers me, because it reminds me of
how balanced I felt after the dance.

Or at least that's the reason I give myself.

The two record keepers disappear, and eventually
return with a scroll.

I
. . . can't take my eyes off it.

It's
compelling.
Mesmerizing. Completely
absorbing. I feel as if I’m being inexorably drawn towards it. Like
an asteroid hurtling towards the Earth, knowing it’s about to
crash, but incapable of pulling back.

Still, despite the power it has over me, I manage to
yank my gaze off it once to stare at Castor.

He looks
. . . terrified.

I have never seen that man look anything but
confident.

“Princess, this
scroll will tell you the trials you must complete to unlock the
powers you require to save the world,” one of the record keepers
says as he bows his head low and places the scroll on the
plinth.

I watch Mara turn around and make eye contact with us
all. Though she looks a little fearful, she doesn't seem to be
affected by the scroll in the same way I am, and her fear isn't a
measure on the bone cold terror Castor is showing.

Does he know something we don't?

Is this scroll dangerous?

Before I can ask, Mara unfurls it.

It's longer than the previous scroll, and as she
opens it, one side tumbles off the plinth, the end of the roll
banging against the bone.

That noise makes me shudder.

It feels as if someone is hammering on my own
bones.

“There is
. . . nothing here,” the Princess steps back, her wide
eyes shimmering with surprise.

“Wait,” one of the
record keepers says, their voice low and rumbling, echoing easily
through the cavernous space.

I watch Mara lean forward.

Then I hear something drip. It's practically silent,
but something alerts me to it—a sudden rush of fear over my back
and arms.

I take several jerking steps forward, and I notice
the scroll is dripping with blood.

Fresh blood.

As the blood trickles over the hide, words appear.
Glowing blue, they light up the underside of Mara's face as she
leans over them.

I watch her eyes draw wide in surprise as she starts
to read.

“I've never seen
anything like this,” she says as she leans further
forward.

I want to intervene.
I want to grab a hand on her shoulder and pull her back. I
want
to close that scroll up so the blood
will stop dripping.

Garl, however, gets
there first. He walks confidently up to the
Princess
. “What does it say? What are you
to do next?”

“I . . .
don't know. I'm having trouble reading the symbols, they keep
shifting around,” she says as she goes to lay a hand on the
scroll.

The blood doesn’t repulse her. She reaches out to
touch it.

Castor somehow moves like the wind, and reaches her
in time to grab her wrist and pull her back.

The Princess, shock rippling over her face, looks at
him.

“You mustn't touch
it,” he says through gritted teeth. Then, as I watch him close his
eyes, it's as if he gets a handle on himself. “Princess, you must
be very careful around this scroll.”

“We are the keepers
of scrolls,” the record keepers say at once.

Castor barely glances
at them as he dismissively says
, “and for
now, I am the closest thing she has to a guardian. You will follow
my heed. This is dangerous. Step back, and I will read it for you,”
Castor says.

“You can read those
symbols?” the Princess asks in awe.

Castor nods.

I watch him hesitate as if he has to draw up the
strength before he can look upon those symbols.

Blood is still
dripping down the scroll, and nobody seems to care but me
. . . and Castor.

“I have read it, now
close it and take it away,” he says as he gestures to the record
keepers. “It is . . . dangerous to have it open too long.
It may attract the Night,” he says.

“Preposterous,” Garl
begins.

Castor turns on him.

The look in his eyes
is
. . . like fire
itself.

“You can't feel it?
Then, General, I suggest you take the knife out from the sheath at
your hip, cut your hand, and place it to the ground. Leave it there
for a few minutes, and you will feel the dark pressing in towards
you.”

Garl holds Castor's gaze, but can’t do so for long.
Eventually he steps back.