The Broken Knife

Lianhua watched Yingtao. Yingtao pretended not to notice. Lianhua was supposed to be writing an outline of the paper she would need to submit to the elders, but with the explosions and fires springing up all over, she was finding it remarkably difficult to focus.

Meanwhile, Yingtao was sitting beside the lamp, her needle smoothly drawing silk thread through one of Lianhua’s many damaged robes. When Lianhua pulled a heaping pile of stinking, stained, and torn clothes and other items out of her storage pouch, Yingtao’s only response had been to click her tongue and take a mending kit from her own pouch. Since then, she had been hard at work, except for a brief moment when she looked up at a particularly loud concussion and quietly told Chi Yincang to go help.

Without a word of argument, Chi Yincang departed through the window, leaving the two women alone together. At last. Not that Yingtao even seemed to have noticed.

“Should I go help, too?” Lianhua asked, laying down her pen. She managed to pull her gaze away from Yingtao, face gilded in red and gold as she stared out at the flame-kissed night sky.

“No,” Yingtao said mildly, biting off her thread. She draped a sleeve across her lap as she threaded her needle again, and Lianhua looked at it enviously. How fortunate was the garment, to rest so peacefully against those soft thighs?

As if Yingtao had sensed the direction of Lianhua’s thoughts, she looked up, brows lifting as green eyes caught violet. Lianhua’s cheeks immediately began to burn, and she looked away, clearing her throat.

“But what if they need-?” Lianhua said.

“No,” Yingtao said firmly. “You are safest in the palace, at least for now, and if you leave, it’ll only make them more suspicious. Right now, you represent the Empire, but more importantly, you represent the Long clan. If anything happens to you while you’re in Cliffcross, it could start a war.”

Lianhua’s elbow thunked against the wood of the desk, and she leaned her cheek on her fist. “I know,” she said, letting the whine come through as she stretched the ‘o’ out to at least three syllables. There was no one else in the world she could have behaved like this in front of, but Yingtao had known her since she was twelve and Lianhua was ten. In that time, Yingtao had changed from Lianhua's attendant to her best friend, then… something more, though neither of them had ever dared to define it.

Yingtao knotted off her thread, then looked at Lianhua again. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “You know?” she said, making the second word even more absurdly long. “Then why did you ask?”

Lianhua let her arms fall to her sides, long sleeves dragging on the floor. Her adventuring robes were much less extravagant, but Yingtao had laid court robes out for her after helping her with her bath. Lianhua shivered in remembered happiness. Yingtao had even allowed a single forbidden kiss during that very long bath, briefly allowing herself to give in to the relief and joy they both felt at being reunited.

That was the first time their lips had met since Lianhua and her grandfather agreed that Lianhua would wed a man of his choosing if she failed to become a senior scholar in her own right. Yingtao had too much strength and honor to break beneath the knowledge that they would probably never be able to be together, but she had built a wall between them that Lianhua had no idea how to bring down again. Even now that she had assured the other woman that she had the proof she needed, Yingtao continued to play the role of servant, rather than friend and lover.

A particularly violent crash sounded outside right before the building shuddered. Yingtao and Lianhua turned to look toward the door as loud cursing echoed through the halls. Lianhua made note of a few of the more interesting words. In the Empire, such things were buried in layers of euphemism and subtle insult, but in Holiander, even the nobles sometimes spoke with such blatant vulgarity.

The door was flung open abruptly, and Yingtao shifted in her seat. Lianhua had no doubt that a knife was now clutched in the hand beneath the silk sleeve, no matter how relaxed the other one looked. Lianhua herself sketched her shield rune in the air, feeling her ki begin to flow outward as the air grew still around her, pressing on her skin.

“My apologies, Lady Lianhua,” the man standing in the doorway said. He caught his breath, sweat running from his hairline, down across his flushed cheeks. “There are salamanders and stone lizards in the palace. The guard is tracking them down, so there, ah, shouldn’t be any danger, but I- We- Thought that you might prefer to go elsewhere for a while.”

His fingers fluttered as he said, ‘elsewhere’, and Lianhua almost jumped to her feet. The ambiguity was an opening she hadn’t been offered before, and while she might sometimes be oblivious, she never failed to take advantage of an opportunity to learn something new.

“I’m sure the mage’s college must be quite the safest place in the city,” she said briskly, all but snapping her fingers at Yingtao, who stood gracefully, her right hand remaining hidden in the sleeve of her robe. “We shall go there.”

The man’s mouth dropped open, and he shifted from one foot to the other as he attempted to form words. Then a series of crashes and yells echoed from behind him, and his skin faded to a pallor even Lianhua didn’t think she could match. “Ah. Yes. Well, perhaps-”

But Lianhua was already sweeping past him, into the hallway. The too-familiar sound of metal chopping into flesh came from around the corner, uncomfortably near, so she hurried in the opposite direction. Yingtao came close behind, as unflappable as ever, with the strange man scurrying behind. He wore the ridiculously high-heeled shoes that were so popular in Holiander at the moment, and stumbled every other step as a result.

“Magus Praxar invited me to visit the next time I was in Cliffcross,” Lianhua said, continuing onward as if she had the vaguest idea where she was going. “And I’m certain whatever they’re doing to defend the city against the incursion must be fascinating.”

The noble, who was wearing a heavy satin coat over a fine white linen shirt and short satin pants with hose, sweated and puffed as he caught up to her. Lianhua’s shield was still up, which made it difficult to sense ki outside it, but if the man had any power at all, it wasn’t enough to make him a danger to her or Yingtao.

Not that Lianhua would normally worry about Yingtao, who was more than capable of taking care of herself, but the other woman was still too thin and pale after her long illness. If it had been an illness, which Lianhua doubted. She pushed that thought away, however. There would be a time and place for it, but this wasn’t it.

“Is there a portal to the college grounds?” Lianhua asked, turning another corner. She didn’t want to give the man time to gather himself, just in case he really was supposed to lead them into some kind of trap. The best thing would be to find someone else, almost anyone else, to act as a witness.

And there she was.

Lianhua hastened forward, placing herself in the path of a woman wearing a dress that was so large it could have acted as a palanquin. The skirt belled out beneath a cinched waist, and not for the first time, Lianhua thought the style could conceal an entire team of assassins or spies beneath the many yards of cloth. Who would even know?

Lianhua offered her the very precise bow of an equal. It was a compliment, since the woman hadn’t been introduced as a member of the royal family, and therefore Lianhua undoubtedly outranked her, but the lady just returned a very perfunctory curtsy.

“Who are you?” the woman asked, lifting brows that had been dyed a pale blue to match her hair. Wigs were in fashion at the moment, thanks to the queen’s recent attempts to cover the thinning of her hair caused by age. This woman was older than Lianhua and Yingtao, but still young enough that the overblown clothes and hair seemed to be wearing her, rather than the other way around.

“Lady Lianhua Long,” Lianhua said, smiling gently as the other woman’s widening eyes. Usually, Lianhua’s coloring was enough to give away her identity, but she could easily have been wearing a wig, rather than the beautiful and unnecessarily elaborate style Yingtao had piled her hair into after her bath.

The noblewoman hastily dropped another curtsy, this one deeper, and looked from Lianhua to the man with confusion. “Lord Palmer?” she said. “Are you taking Lady Lianhua to shelter in the main palace?”

Lord Palmer - it was good to finally have a name for the red-faced man - shook his head, then nodded. “I was… going to, Countess Greer,” he said. “But the lady would like to see the college.”

The blue brows went up again. “Well,” the countess said, “then you’re going in the wrong direction. Come.” She took off down the hall, completely ignoring the loud crashes and occasional screams that came from somewhere just out of sight.

“There’s a portal in the courtyard,” she said. “It’s usually closed, of course, but they’re supposed to open it during emergencies. I suppose this qualifies.” She sounded as if the incursion had occurred purely to inconvenience her.

Lianhua followed after, much more comfortable with the situation now that they had another member of the Holiander nobility to act as a buffer. As a countess, the woman should be a high enough rank that she would be missed should she suddenly disappear, which made it less likely that Lianhua and Yingtao were about to wander into an ambush.

The ‘courtyard’ was a large open space with walls on only three sides. A narrow pond bisected the space, but the water was currently filled with ash and the remains of several large lizards. Countess Greer tutted unhappily when she saw it, but pointed Lianhua toward an archway on the open side of the area. A cobblestone path meandered in that direction, crossing an entirely unnecessary and highly decorative bridge.

“There you are, my dear,” the noblewoman said, reaching out motion genteelly with a satin-gloved hand. “I do hope to see you at some event soon. I was in the country for my health last time you passed through, and should be still, but I couldn’t possibly miss the tournament.”

She looked completely healthy to Lianhua, but that didn’t mean much. Yingtao was the one who took care of people. Lianhua learned things that would probably never be useful to anyone. To each their own.

“Thank you, my lady,” Lianhua said, bowing again before starting off for the archway, ignoring Lord Palmer entirely. A sudden burst of fire rising up from the building nearby had them all stepping backwards, however.

For the first time, Lianhua felt genuinely concerned. This wasn’t her first incursion, though her job was usually telling the combatants where the greatest amount of ki was gathered. This allowed them to kill the strongest monsters first, leaving the little ones to the common people, at least until the real threats had been defeated. Now, she sensed a good amount of power emanating from that building, pushing on her shield.

Impulsively, she stretched out a hand toward the countess. “Come with us,” she said. “I don’t think it’s safe to go back inside.”

Countess Greer lifted a hand to cover her mouth as she laughed. “Oh, dear, how kind of you. Have no fear, however. The royal guard is hard at work, and I simply must fetch my morning clothes before retiring to the shelter. It wouldn’t do to be seen in the same gown twice, you know.” She plucked at her huge skirts.

Lianhua blinked. This woman… was braving an incursion to retrieve a dress? She looked around, realizing for the first time that something was missing.

“Where are your servants, my lady? Surely they should be the ones gathering your things?” For that matter, why was the countess in this wing to start with? Lianhua had had the distinct impression that no one else was staying here, especially not someone as important as a countess.

Again the gloved hand lifted to cover the mouth. Were those lips a little too narrow, no matter how well concealed by cosmetics? Were the teeth perhaps ever so slightly pointed? But no, surely not. The darkness and the flickering light of the fires reflecting from the smoke blanketing the city must be playing tricks on Lianhua’s eyes. Especially since she couldn’t feel even a speck of power coming from this woman.

Yingtao stepped between Lianhua and the countess, bowing deeply, her hands tucked into her sleeves. “Excuse us,” she said with great formality. “I must see my lady to safety. It was our honor to have met you.” She took a step back, and Lianhua stepped away as well, suddenly torn by a desperate desire to lower her shield and open her senses. There was something…

Something bounced off of Lianhua’s shield, and she turned to look at Lord Palmer. He was staring blankly at his hand, as if it had betrayed him in some way, but he managed to muster a smile.

“We should leave, Lady Lianhua. I still encourage you to go to the shelter in the main palace, but if you’d rather go to the mage college, now is the time.” The man motioned toward the stone archway, then flicked sweat from his brow. He, too, was wearing gloves, as was the fashion, and the white fabric was stained with oil and sweat from previous attempts to clear the moisture from his face. Oddly, the stain almost looked peach-colored, rather than simply dirty or damp. Was the man wearing makeup?

“Yes,” Lianhua said slowly, stepping away from both of them. Yingtao came too, steps silent and her eyes dark and watchful.

They should run. Lianhua felt that as strongly as she had ever felt anything. Something was terribly wrong with these people. Wrong with this whole court. What was going on here, and where would she be safe? Where would Yingtao be safe?

Her eyes tracked to the archway, where she could just make out the bubble-like shimmer of a portal. That was true, then, but where did the portal lead? If this was the mountain, she might think that terrible being, Nucai, was lurking beyond it. But Shensheng was too far away now. No one could create a portal that would reach that far. No one except the Diushi.

A shiver went down her back, and she lifted her hand, bare fingers flicking in the silent language she and Yingtao had created as girls. To the two nobles, it might look like Lianhua was shooing away an insect, but Yingtao knew better. Her eyes flicked to the sides, left, then right, and she nodded.

Yingtao turned, and Lianhua dropped her shield for just a moment as her friend pressed her back against Lianhua’s. Then the shield was up again, now covering them both, and they moved as one. Toward the portal.