Shades of the Silent: Surrender the Day

[aithne]

"Swing around the army and to the north," I told Temur. "I don't want ten thousand tribesmen between us and our escape route."

I'll go with him, Spirit said. I am unlikely to be much use inside, and two guarding the horses is more useful than one.

"Good," I said, looking down the road that led into Beijing. From everything we'd heard, the Khan was concentrating on trying to bash his way into the city from the north, and had left a narrow gap to the south open. That gap was narrowing swiftly, and we needed to get in soon or not at all until the sack was underway. "We'll meet you in the north, then."

Spirit and Temur would take the lead box of artifacts with them, and I shouldered the pack with the dulcimer in it and sent them on their way. We were looking for the Lee family, who lived somewhere in Beijing, the people who had made the dulcimer and would be able to dismantle it. It took us a few hours to get into the city, and oddly enough, everyone inside the city seemed to be going about their daily business. The north part of the city had been largely abandoned, not famers were still bringing in food, others were selling things on the streets.

We found the street that seemed to be dominated by people selling instruments and musicians for hire plying their trade, and started asking around. It was quickly confirmed that the people in the city who made the finest instruments were unquestionably the Lee family. They were also unquestionably some of the most disliked people in the city. They only worked for the emperor or people who had a lot of money, and they were snooty about it.

I frowned at that, but we asked directions anyway and showed up at the gate of the Lee household. I wondered, as we rang the bell and waited for an answer, if I was going to have trouble getting this one destroyed.

"Yes?" a servant asked from the other side of the gate.

"I have business with the Lee family. About an instrument that they created," I told him.

"Ah. Certainly." The gate was unlocked and swung open, and the servant showed us inside.

It was posh place, built in rich woods and decorated in beautiful fabrics. There were instruments hanging on the walls, as well as the preserved heads of animals, some of which I didn't recognize. I even saw mounted heads of things I was sure were humanoid.

I kept my mouth shut and my thoughts to myself. We were left in the front room by the servant, who told us that Master Lee would be with us shortly. After he left, I said to the others, quietly, "I have little faith this will go well. Be ready."

They nodded, and we waited then in silence. The servant returned and announced one Sinan Lee. He was in his fourth decade, with a snarl on his face and irritation in his walk. Apparently, he didn't like being interrupted. He looked me up and down, and obviously immediately dismissed me as unimportant. "Yes? I am very busy."

I returned his irritation with calm. "I won't take much of your time, then. some years ago, you made a dulcimer for a man named Kamil. Correct?"

He started. "I did. You have it?"

"I've brought it back to be destroyed, or changed so it no longer has Kamil's soul lodging in it."

He crossed his arms, impatience in the set of his shoulders. "Name your price. I will take it off your hands."

I raised an eyebrow at him, all cool indifference to his bluster. "I am uninterested in anything other than either destroying it or changing it."

He snarled, "I could never destroy that beautiful work of art. I would rather die first. Name your price."

"Then change it. It holds a piece of the soul of Kamil. As is, it can never be played again without that soul taking over whoever plays it." I thought I might appeal to the artist in him, and added, "It is a shame, that such a beautiful instrument can never make a sound."

"No, the emperor can use it to destroy those Mongol hordes. I can't and won't destroy such a useful item. Only after, might I consider changing its powers."

Damned artists. I leaned back a bit and just watched him for a moment, eyes cool and distant as a snake considering its prey. "You were the one who created the dulcimer, correct? Which means you met Kamil. What was your impression of him?"

The impatience softened, just a touch. "Strange man. Brilliant, but strange. He was an artist in his own way."

"And you didn't blink at the fact that the dulcimer will kill anyone who hears its tone?"

The unpleasant look in his eyes was answer enough, but Sinan confirmed my impression by answering, "Someone has to kill the peasant uprisers. He was doing the world a favor."

I kept my calm with some amount of difficulty. "Is that what he told you? Interesting lie, that one. Kamil was full of them. Is still full of them, actually, since he has control of the Khan who's sitting outside the city, throwing ballista at the walls."

"And you could be lying. It comes to this. I will not destroy that which could be our salvation from this siege. If you are unwilling to sell it, then be on your way."

"And if the siege ends?" I asked.

"Then we can talk," he said, and that seemed to be the final word on that.

I smiled, just barely. "I will see you again soon, then." I turned and walked out, and felt rather than saw the others fall in on my heels.

As we made our way down the street, Zayd shook his head. "He's not going to help you except by force."

I spat. "Damn artists. No, he's not. He's a kindred spirit to Kamil. He'll help, but we're going to have to hold a sword to his throat the whole time."

"I think we can just take him, and maybe another family member. Who is going to notice a missing musician? And if they do are they currently going to care?"

I thought about it. "Well, they do appear to be both rich and friends with the emperor. But right now, the emperor has more things on his mind, probably."

Zayd raised an eyebrow. "So how's about a little forced labor?"

I narrowed my eyes, thinking. "We'll need a place to keep him. And some idea of his routines."

Sacha fell in on my other side, and said, "There are abandoned buildings all over the north of the city, as a place to keep him. Maybe the pounding of the ballista will inspire him to work faster."

I smiled thinly. "He'll do it to save his own skin, I think. So, we just need to get him out of the house and to a place where we can get him. A bogus invitation to the emperor's palace, maybe?"

Zayd chuckled. "Nothing so elaborate, I think." His face shifted, and he became an a mirror of the servant who had answered the door. "It shouldn't be a problem," he said, in a perfect imitation of the servant's voice.

"We can do that tonight. Replace them and spirit him away in the middle of the night. Take some of the family to motivate him with."

"How many of the family are we taking?" he wanted to know.

I thought for a moment. "If he has any children, at least one of them. At least two of them if they're young enough not to be much trouble. Boys only, if he has sons. I'll confirm with Ahmad later about whether we need more than that, but he more or less admitted to creating the dulcimer himself. We might need his tools, though. We'll need to get into his workshop first. Get him, young children if he has them, a couple other members of the family if he doesn't."

Sacha nodded. "We can probably get in tonight and take him out tomorrow sometime."

"Sounds good to me. Let's go scout for somewhere to stash them, and infiltrate tonight."

Sacha found a good place, close enough that the dust of the walls and the sound of the ballista would carry to it, far enough away from the walls that it wouldn't inadvertently get hit. We infiltrated into the house easily enough, Sacha and I strangling the three servants we were replacing silently, one at a time. We would leave Nomolun to keep an eye on the abandoned house we'd chosen.

Sacha took over as the female maid that cleaned Sinan's rooms. Zayd took over for the servant who had let us in, sort of a man of all work position, the one who really ran the household. I took over for the nursemaid. Sinan had seven children, all of them unmarried and living at home, all with private rooms. They ranged in age from twenty years old to one, and I was taking care of the youngest, a little boy. I would take him, and the eight-year-old boy. Both were young enough not to cause trouble.

Sinan did have a wife, but she seemed to be a trophy wife, and they didn't appear to actually like one another as far as I could tell. The children it was. I hated to threaten children, but--

I steeled myself. I'd done worse in my time.

Early the next morning, we took them. Sacha emerged with a bag of tools. Zayd came out with Sinan himself, who was looking a little dazed. I had the baby supported in a sling across my body, and was leading the yawning eight-year-old by the hand. The boy was confused about what was going on, but obedient.

Together, we made our way to the house we'd chosen. "Stay out here," I said to Nomolun, who'd met us outside. We went within to what had been the main room of the house, now bare of everything but dust and a few rags.

I carefully laid the baby down, trying not to wake him, and told the bewildered boy to sit. Then I turned, and as I did so I changed back to the form that Sinan had seen yesterday.

"You will pay for this, mage," Sinan growled.

I picked up the dulcimer from where I'd stashed it, and laid it in front of him. Sacha dropped the bag of tools next to him. "Possibly. But you will destroy the dulcimer, if you want your sons to live."

Sinan scowled, but very slowly reached into the bag, laying out his tools. He began to work, at a snail's pace.

Zayd's voice was low and harsh. "He is going to stall."

"I'll just have to encourage him to work faster, then." I was on my feet, and quick as lighting I darted over to the older boy, twisting his arm up behind him and hauling him bodily to his feet. The boy cried out sharply as a knife appeared in my hand. I laid the blade against the boy's throat, and he jerked once and then held very still. I looked up at Sinan, who had frozen. "Drag your feet, and I will hurt this one quite a bit before he dies. Then I will start on the other."

The tiniest bit of pressure on the blade made it dig into the boy's skin. I knew without having to see it that there was just a trickle of blood running from the blade down to the collar of the boy's nightshirt. Sinan looked at the boy, looked at me, and then silently returned to his work. He seemed to be moving a bit faster, but still so slowly. He was undoing the screws that held the strings in place, but he was certainly being careful about it.

The boy whimpered quietly. I said to Sinan, "So tell me, why are you being so careful, Sinan? You are, after all, taking the thing apart. I somehow don't believe that it requires quite this much care."

The musician scowled down at the dulcimer without looking at me. "Feel free to give it a smash if you think that's going to work for you. But I don't think you will live long enough to find out. Magic doesn't like being pulled apart. If I don't do it slowly, I can make your life, and mine, a whole lot shorter."

It was consistent with what I knew about magic items, and I nodded. "I would hurry as much as you can. Not only do you have my uncertain patience to deal with, I have a feeling the Khan is going to be coming through the walls sometime soon."

"I will work as fast as I can. But remember, if you harm those boys, the first thing I do is break this and nobody lives." He was still apparently speaking to the dulcimer, and I thought I detected a slight quickening of his pace.

"Then we understand each other. Good." I released the boy, and told him, "Sit down." He obeyed without protest.

Now Sinan glanced at me. "That your real face, or are you Mongol? You have the manners of a Mongol."

I snorted. "You'll recall I was perfectly pleasant until you refused to cooperate with me. Answering an honest request with a refusal to even bargain is never wise, Sinan."

"So I see, but it is you who don't see. With this magic, we can kill the Khan and all who threaten us. Already there are rumors of the Khan killing people by fire, just by looking at them. Kamil called those the silver gloves." He turned his attention back to the dulcimer, and kept working. "You can only fight fire with fire and this is our chance to save our people. Otherwise we are all going to die in the flames that the Khan is fanning."

"There are forces in the world that are moving to stop Kamil, and to stop the Khan. I like the idea of him using the silver gloves on this city as well as you do, but you cannot fight one of Kamil's artifacts with another of Kamil's artifacts. You will end up with everyone dead."

"Only the Khan needs to die. It is he that is the aggressor."

My voice was low and deadly. "Do you not think that Kamil would have built a failsafe into these items?"

Sinan's hands stilled. "You think that using one makes you immune to the others?"

"I think you still fail to understand what exactly is going on. Kamil himself, a part of his soul, lives in the Khan. It is he who has brought the Mongols here. I believe Kamil knew that he might have one of his items used against him some day. And I believe he was smart enough to have accounted for the possibility. Use the dulcimer on the Mongols, and they die. But the Khan lives. And those gloves will burn Beijing."

"So a bit of his soul resides in here?" Sinan's hands were still idle on the dulcimer.

"Yes. And that is my problem, not yours." I pointed at him with the dagger. "Back to work." My tone was one of finality. I wanted this conversation over.

Zayd caught my eye. I looked over at Sacha, and jerked my head at the children; Sacha took up my place and I stepped into the next room to speak with Zayd. "Bothering you?" he asked in a low voice.

I shrugged. "He reminds me of Kamil."

"He does. His arguments make you think."

"And they make sense...if you don't know what Kamil's up to," I said. I did not mention that I was having difficulty with threatening the man's children. I needed to do what I needed to do. I would pay the price later. I always did.

"That's the bad part," Zayd said with a small smile. "I wonder what happens when he finishes."

"No way to know. Hopefully it won't kill us." I stepped back into the main room, and Zayd followed me inside.

Eight hours later, Sinan was surrounded by pieces of the dulcimer. The baby had woken, and I'd shifted back into the nursemaid's guise to feed and sing him back to sleep. I kept an eye on Sinan, but he seemed to take my threats seriously and kept working.

The musician held up one last piece. "This is the last part to take apart. when I do, it may do something unforeseen. Before I do it, I would like you to take my children home, or at least farther away."

I nodded to Sacha, and he came over to take the baby from me. "Take them a few streets over," I told him. He took the older boy's hand, and went out the door.

Sinan took a deep breath and pulled the piece that he had in his hands apart.

The world was full of screaming. Every sound, even the pounding of the ballista, was swallowed by a wind that howled out of the pieces of the dulcimer. The wind circled and circled the room, a caged beast looking for a way out, picking up dulcimer pieces, pottery shards, us. I grabbed into the doorframe I was next to and held on for dear life.

The wind felt like a living creature. It rushed past me several times, and then surrounded me, holding me, pulling me--and then it let me down. The wind was gone, and so was Sinan.

Zayd was still here, fortunately, and I stepped outside to see Nomolun looking at me curiously. Sacha was running down the street towards us, arms empty of children. "They disappeared in my arms."

"I'm guessing, if we went back to the family's house, we would find all of them gone. Very strange."

Sacha tilted his head. "Think so? So evil that they were killed?"

I grimaced. "Even the children? I don't know."

"Can't believe that it would kill a one-year-old." Sacha shook his head. "Though it has killed before."

"Sinan, maybe. But the rest of them--I'm not sure I believe it." I was believing it less and less all the time, as a matter of fact.

Sacha eyed me. "Curiosity getting to you? Should we go back?"

I nodded. "I think so. I'd like to see with my own eyes, at least. Let's go as the servants, it'll be easier to get in."

We did so, and arrived back with Nomolun shadowing us. We knocked at the gate, and were immensely startled when the servant that Zayd was looking like opened it. Zayd turned, quickly shifting, and I blinked and did the same. The servant peered at us, confused. "Can I help you?"

I killed you myself. Why are you alive? There were some questions that just did not bear asking. Instead, I said, "Perhaps. Is Sinan in?"

"Yes, what is this about?"

"About someone he used to know, named Kamil."

"Ah, I will get him. Come into the courtyard." We did so, and Sinan arrived a minute or so later, by himself and without being announced. His brow was smooth, and there was no trace of irritation in how he moved. "Kamil, you say. I remember him. Friend of yours?"

I shook my head. "Not really. Tell me, do you remember meeting me yesterday?"

He peered at me; I was wearing the same face I had been when I'd visited yesterday. "No, I don't think I have ever seen you before. It's good he is not a friend of yours. He was a very evil and strange man."

"Yes, he was. Dead now, fortunately. He approached you to help him make something, didn't he?"

Sinan sat down on a stone bench, waving us towards other benches nearby. His sigh was heavy and full of what appeared to be heartfelt regret. "He did, sadly I needed the money and did it. But I would give it all back if I could destroy that thing."

I smiled. "I have good news for you. It's destroyed. You destroyed it about half an hour ago."

He drew himself upwards in astonishment. "I did? I knew there was a flaw in it. It finally destroyed itself. I am glad it is gone. That how Kamil died?"

"No, Kamil was killed by another mage about six years ago now. His soul is still making trouble, alas."

Sinan smiled, a craftsman's pride on his face. "Ah, that was the flaw. I thought that's what he was planning. So I made sure he could never talk from the position or take over the person holding it, despite what he requested."

One mystery, solved. "Ah! That's why the minstrel who had it was able to use it without being taken over."

"Good, I am glad it worked."

"It did, and that minstrel made sure it wasn't walking the world for a while, as well." I remembered the old temple, and the minstrel who had made our last week in Kengtung such a delight. I missed music, more than I usually admitted to myself. If I had time, I might strike up a friendship with this changed Sinan, ask him to play for me. But there was no time.

"Thank you for some good news on such a grave day for Beijing as this," Sinan said.

I put my hands together, bowing over them slightly. "You're welcome. Just out of curiosity, are your children well?" My question betrayed more worry than I had thought I was feeling, and I realized I was a bit anxious. What had happened to them?

Sinan smiled fondly. "Yes all seven are fine, as is my lovely wife. Thank you for asking. We are leaving soon, you are welcome to join our caravan to Shanghai."

It was a temptation--oh, it was a temptation. I shook my head. "Unfortunately, our path is taking us in another direction. If you can, I would leave today. The Khan is about to cut off the south route."

"Thank you again. If there is anything I can ever do for you, let me know."

I rose, and bowed again. "I will, thank you. We must be on our way. Good travels to you and your family."

He rose, and let us out, closing the gate behind us. I briefed Nomolun on what had happened, and shook my head. "History, rewritten." There was a burning feeling under my breastbone, and I struggled to let it go.

Zayd shook his head. "That was weird. The dulcimer made him nice and changed everyone's memory but ours?"

"Looks like it. Wonder if he was nice before he made the dulcimer, and making the dulcimer did to him what the rest of the items did to Kamil? In that case, it was just returning something it took. And destroying these things does seem to make whoever destroys them better. It was weird, though. I got the sense that the wind that happened after it was destroyed was alive, and intelligent. It looked at me, and moved on."

"I got that too. It was looking at me, like it was studying my face." Zayd shook his head. "If that was Kamil's spirit let go, it might be wise to assume new forms. If that was something else, I am not sure I want to run into it again."

"I think it may have been something else. It didn't feel like Kamil. I've talked to him enough times by now that I'd probably know him anywhere. But it's a something else we're unlikely to run into again. New faces would be wise, anyway. We're about to need to work our way into the Mongol camp. Some of us, anyway." I shook my head. "I'm just glad I didn't have to actually hurt the boy."

"Me, too," Zayd said, then glanced over his shoulder. "I think we may have attracted attention." He pointed to a bunch of people who were heading towards Sinan's house in a rush. "Brotherhood, I am guessing."

I swore a vehement oath. "Damnit, I would hate to have gotten them all killed." There were about fifteen of them, at a guess, and some of them looked like Mongols. "Too many for us to take. Tell you what. You guys disappear. I'll distract these guys, lead them on a merry chase. Kamil knows I'm here anyway, might as well show my actual face to these folks. I'll meet you later by the west gates. If a majority of these guys follow me, the family will have a chance to get away."

Zayd looked at me askance. "You sure about that? If they get you, you are going to be probably carried right to your father, unless that is your plan."

I shrugged swiftly. "They probably won't catch me. But if they do, my father won't kill me right away, and the ropes aren't made that can hold a shapeshifter."

"True enough. Plan in case they get you?"

I thought. "If they do, get into the Mongol camp and come find me. The important prisoners are usually held near the Khan's tent. I don't know what the situation in the camp is at the moment; we have to assume things have changed and we can't count on the old routines. If you can, replace some of the Khan's guards. Sacha, Nomolun, you're the best for replacing them. The lead box is with Spirit. Temur and Spirit are circling around to the north, it'll take them a few days to get there."

Zayd nodded. "Go then, we will get Sinan's family out."

I nodded and flowed back into the body I had been born in. Then I whirled, ran to catch up with the group heading towards Sinan's house, and came up behind one of the men. I tapped him on the shoulder, and he whirled.

I grinned at him. "Miss me?" Without waiting for an answer, I pelted away, into the maze that was Beijing.

My first objective was to not let them get a clear arrow-shot into me. That was easy enough to do for someone who had been practicing lines of sight since she learned how to walk. The second was to throw obstacles and distractions into their path. With quickly spun illusions, I shifted entrances to alleyways, hid myself in shadows. Soon enough, several of the men following me sported daggers sprouting from tender bits. I thought I might even have killed one or two. Only about half of them had followed me, and I was steadily whittling down their numbers.

Unfortunately, they were picking up more people as they chased me, and I couldn't kill them all. I was going to run out of knives before they ran out of men.

Then I had a stroke of luck that could only mean that whatever god was controlling fortune today had it in for me. I took a turn that turned out to be the entirely wrong one. I fetched up in a blind alley, and the men chasing me were close on my heels.

I could escape. I had been practicing a form that could fly. But they were too close, and they would see me whatever form I took.

I would have to give my secret away in order to escape. They were coming towards me with nets, and I backed up against the wall.

In the end, I let them take me. I fought, of course, and killed a number of them, but I ended up wrapped in nets, my hands and feet bound, and they transported me out of the city through hidden passages. They were not gentle with me, though they didn't offer me more harm than necessary.

Outside the walls, they turned north, and waded into the Mongol ranks. I heard the murmurs running away from me like the steppe wind. Some people shouted. Others spat. A couple threw stones. I was not a popular person here anymore; though if I had to admit it to myself, I did not know if I'd ever been.

The Khan's favorite hound had been captured, and was being brought back to him.

They deposited me in Tolui's tent, unwrapped me, made sure the ropes that bound me were secured. Then they left, and Tolui came in. In the lamp that was burning in the tent, I could see that his eyes were cold and hard. "Sister, so good to see you again," he said. There was no emotion in his voice.

It was at that point that I finally began to feel fear. I looked up at my brother, and took a breath. "I'd say it was good to see you, but somehow I doubt you have friendly intentions towards me, Tolui." I lifted my tied hands towards him. "This isn't the way I'd have wanted to have a family reunion. What do you want with me?"

"Nothing," he said. "I am giving you to the Khan to die."

I shook my head. "He won't, you know. Not if even a spark of him is left."

My brother's smile was quick and cold. "You think there is a spark of the Khan left in there? It's all Kamil."

I refused to believe it. "Why are you doing this? Why did you decide to throw in with Kamil? What did he promise you that Father did not?"

"Why? The oldest sons rule, the youngest get nothing. Kamil gave me a chance to rule. He will bring peace someday if allowed to rule. Peace of the dead, maybe, but still."

I forced my voice into calm. Perhaps I could still reach him. "What use is the peace of the dead? Tolui... " I shook my head. "I love you, still. I still remember you teaching me how to use a sword. Don't do this."

He shrugged. "What use is it in destroying all that power? No good will come of it."

"No good will come of using it! You've seen the gloves work. The others are as bad, or worse. And Kamil is mad. He's done all this in part to get revenge on our father."

He narrowed his eyes. "For what?"

"Supposedly, his mother was raped by several of Father's men, on one of the Persian raids about thirty years ago, the same series of raids my mother was taken on. Kamil's stepfather never let him forget that he was the son of one of us. That's the story he told me, anyway, and I think it's closer to the truth than anything else I've heard. He said he wanted to take everything away from Father, just like Father had taken everything from him."

"He has given him an empire," Tolui said. His voice was still cold, calm, and a terrible suspicion started to burn in my gut.

I shook my head. "And taken over his mind."

"Prices we have to pay sometimes. Just like the price you are about to pay." He looked over his shoulder. "The Khan is coming."

I dropped my voice low. "He killed Al Alta, did you know? Killed her, because he couldn't find me." I watched as the barb hit home, as my brother stiffened visibly. "Just like he'll kill you once you're no longer useful to him."

Tolui did not answer, only turned and left. Replacing him was my father.

He was a terrible sight. He had aged years in the year and a half since I had last seen him. His face was deeply lined, his hair was steel grey and thinning. Even his beard had gone wispy. He was carrying the silver gloves tucked into his belt. "Father?" I said, my voice shaking.

He stopped. Looked down at me, sitting on the floor with my wrists and ankles tied. "Yesui of the dark hair," he said, and my soul trembled. This was my father I was speaking to. I thought, at least.

"I know how my actions must look. But I have had compelling reasons for them," I said. I had perhaps three minutes to make him change his mind about killing me.

"Tell me, daughter, before I must do what is done to traitors." His voice was slow and measured, and my gut cramped with fear.

I took a shuddering breath. "I have not betrayed you. I have been trying to save you. The soul contained in those gloves is part of a dead mage named Kamil. He has been trying to take you over. I have been fighting his power, taking his artifacts out of the world. Each of them is as terrible as the rest. And I just saved your army."

He looked at me sharply. "From what?"

"The dulcimer of Kantele. In the emperor's hands, it would have decimated us. It is now in pieces, useless. I have stopped other artifacts from making their way here, into the emperor's hands. All of them would have meant disaster. I saved Chagatai's life, and exposed the imposter that was pretending to be him."

"I suppose, daughter, that you can look at things any way you want. You can be the hero in this story, if that is what you want to believe." His voice was not loud, but there was anger lurking in it, and, worse, disappointment.

"Kamil killed Al Alta. He tried to kill Chagatai. Through you, he'll kill me," I said.

"You are telling me that some strange spirit has taken me over and then killed my daughter and nearly killed Chagatai. All the while, daughter, I can't believe that you disobeyed a direct order to recover those items. What if my intent was to use them and lock them away after I was done, so no one could use them again? But you decided on your own that I was incapable of such a decision. I am the Khan, daughter, you turned my people against me."

I shook my head, looking him in the eye. If he was about to call for my execution, then let me be executed, but he would know the truth before I went. "There is no locking these away. They call to people vulnerable to them. They are too powerful to be allowed to exist."

"I agree, daughter, and had you brought them all back, we could have destroyed them together." I couldn't believe it. I didn't believe it. But he was still speaking. "But you didn't. As much as I love you, I can't let you be an exception to the rule that you betrayed me. All traitors to the Khan must die." There was a change coming over him, his facial features shifting subtly, and with a start I realized that I was openly talking to Kamil. "It is time, Yesui, to meet your fate."

I was bracing myself, getting ready to slip my bonds. I kept my eyes on Kamil, trying to look more terrified than I actually was. Something betrayed me--he had access to my father's memories. He knew me. He spoke again. "Don't try it, Yesui. Your mother is here." I stopped dead. "And your siblings. I will kill them all, if you run. I still have control of this body until you could destroy the gloves. I can wreak havoc in that time, and I will."

I stared up at him, and then said, "Thanks--" I was up, out of the ropes, uncoiling, snatching the gloves-- "For the information." I was past him, rolling towards the door, ready for the shout that would bring the guards. I was going copper-scaled and winged, my flying form coming over me without thought.

Nets descended on me the moment I was free of the yurt flaps. I struggled, only succeeding in tangling myself further. I stopped, considered, let my body figure out the nets. I could free myself. I could--

"I figured you might," my father's voice came. He was behind me, in the doorway of the yurt. "Change again, Yesui, or try to fight or keep the gloves, and I will have your mother's throat slit." He pointed, and I looked to see--

Mother! The man who held a sword to her throat was nobody I knew. I hissed. I could get away, my body told me. I could still go.

Mother, I am so sorry. She had glanced at me once, and had seen only a small copper dragon. Not her daughter. She looked at my father now, eyes pleading, uncomprehending.

I made my decision, and dropped, wriggled, and began to run, spreading my wings for takeoff. I almost stumbled as I heard my mother scream, the noise fading to a whistling gasp as the sword slid through cartilage with a familiar crackle. The Khan's voice rang out. "Go then, I hope the gloves keep you warm at night. Because that is all they do."

I glanced back, and saw him holding up his hands, enclosed in silver gloves. I must go, or he will kill me. I flew for my life.

Dragons cannot shed tears. I learned this, to my sorrow, on my headlong flight to find my family. I reached out to Spirit's mind, and had him guide me in. I could see them, just ahead, and I folded my wings, plummeted to earth, changed on the way down to my own form. I touched the bracelet to the gloves. Ahmad said, They are magical. They are not artifacts.

Kamil had finally told me the truth.

I dropped the gloves on the ground and began to swear, learning every filthy word in every language I had ever learned. Sacha stepped towards me, and I could feel the gazes of the others on me. "Not the right gloves?" Sacha asked quietly.

I raised my eyes to meet his. "No. And these came at a price that was far too high."

"What price?" he asked.

"My mother's life. Possibly that of the siblings I have in that camp, as well. I lost this one. I fell right into Kamil's trap." I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold myself together. The reality of what had just happened was setting in. My brother. My father. My mother. I was going to fall apart at the seams.

"I am sorry," Sacha said. "We did capture a brotherhood member and get the lee family out of Beijing. We thought you might want to talk to him before we killed him." He looked at me. "But it can wait."

Silently, I opened my arms, unable to speak. He came to me, pulling me into a hard hug, and shock and grief rose and drowned me in its flood. I sobbed, clutched to him, wet his shirt with tears.

After a bit, I felt him transfer me to Zayd, and eventually I felt the flood recede. It would come again, but for the moment my mind was a little clearer. I pulled away from Zayd, wiped my eyes and then my nose, cleared my throat. "I think I should probably talk to this brotherhood member."

"We didn't bother to question him, we were hoping you got back alive," Zayd said, quietly.

I nodded. "It was touch and go. And I got lectured by my father."

Zayd grimaced. "Never pleasant."

Possibly far less pleasant than you think, I thought, and then chided myself for it. "I'll see if I can get this one to talk. Where is he?"

He was just beyond the edge of the camp, and when I saw him I recognized him. He was one of Tolui's horse handlers, named Mungke. He was bound and gagged, and I saw him take me in with one swift glance.

I bent and took off his gag. I watched him work his mouth and asked, "Greetings, Mungke. What were you doing in Beijing?"

"Looking for you."

"Tolui sent you in?" He nodded. "And your orders were to do what, exactly, if you found me or my people?"

"Capture and bring you back to Tolui and the khan."

At this point, Mungke was merely confirming what I already knew. But he was being cooperative, so I persisted. "Why were you heading towards the household of the Lee family?"

"The khan felt that you were in town. He thought you would be going to the Lee family. You are destroying the sacred artifacts and he felt you destroy one. He sent us to capture you."

My voice was less sharp than I would have liked, more exhausted. "The sacred artifacts. Ah, yes, a member of the brotherhood you are, indeed."

The horseman shrugged awkwardly. "If we are not--he killed so many that stood against him. Those that refused to join, died. Those that didn't condemn you died. Even your mother had to disown you to survive."

I bowed my head. "I thought she might have. The rest of my family had to, as well. Tolui, of course, did it of his own free will."

"Tolui has changed as well. I didn't understand the change until I saw the Khan. They are the same person."

That brought my head up. "Has Tolui ever used one of the artifacts, do you know?"

Mungke met my eyes. "He was the first. Some small piece of wood that he calls the thorn."

The thorn, I had heard of. One of the remaining two artifacts that I had never laid eyes on. "Do you know what it does?"

"No, I have never seen its power but it must be subtle, unlike your father's."

"Yes, those gloves are about the opposite of subtle. He rules by fear, now." I had seen it, in the brief time I had been in the camp. More, I had smelled it. The camp had smelled like fear, lingering like the scent of rotten food.

Mungke nodded. "Yes, he does, they both do."

Bitterness twisted my voice. My eyes hurt, and I rubbed them. "Well, Tolui wanted to rule. I hope he's happy with what he got. The Khan looks like an old man, now. Does he grow older every time he uses the gloves?"

"Yes, soon he will die I fear. But his body may live on."

"With the soul of Kamil instead of his own."

"He eats, drinks and sleeps less. He speaks in the words of Magi." Mungke shifted, trying to get a little more comfortable.

"That is all Kamil. Something like it will eventually happen to Tolui."

"Tolui is gone now. He only speaks like the other. The great Khan I can still hear, sometimes."

Had it been him? Or Kamil, being him? I hoped it had been my father I'd spoken to, but I also feared it. I shook my head. "He seemed to be in there still."

Mungke was looking at me speculatively. "I can help if you trust me, Khanate."

"What can you do?"

"I can help you. I can tell where we are, what we are doing, what Tolui and the Khan are doing."

Might as well call a sword a sword. "You're offering to spy for me?"

"I am," he said, and in his voice was a quiet conviction.

"And why would I trust you not to go back to Tolui and tell everything you know to him?"

Awkward shrug. "You can't know I won't betray you. But I can't let Tolui and the Khan rule this way."

I closed my eyes, thinking. Then I rose, feeling much older than my years. "I'll consider it. I'll let you know." I turned and left, and Mungke did not try to speak to me as I walked away.

"Anything of interest?" Zayd asked. He had been helping load Dragonfly, and Temur had nodded and pointed at me, evidently telling Zayd he could finish by himself.

I twisted my mouth. "Tolui has an artifact, and I probably wasn't talking to him but Kamil. Mostly. He still reacted when I told him Kamil had killed Al Alta. My father's still in there, that I knew, but he's dying. And Mungke has offered to spy for me."

Zayd considered it for only a moment. "I would say yes. What next? Sorry, that might be too soon."

Too soon? Not near soon enough. I've wasted time. "I'm leaning towards yes, especially since once we move camp, he knows nothing he can use to harm us. As for what's next--I'd like to try to get back into the camp, see if the cup would work on my father, but after today I don't know. It may be better just to run north."

"He gets weaker with every day but everything we destroy makes Kamil weaker," Zayd said, reflecting on it. "It's a race really. He knows you are here. I vote for leaving."

"True enough. As much as I'd like to sneak in and spirit my youngest sister away, the risk is just too great. He probably knows I'll try that. I don't know if she's even in that camp. She may be back in Ulaanbaatar."

Now it was Zayd turn to twist his mouth. "Maybe, she is probably here, all your relatives seem to be here. Except Chagatai, now."

"Mungke would know. I'm not sure I want to drag her along. She's only ten, and being with us isn't likely to be much safer than being in that camp."

"She is safe as long as you don't directly challenge Kamil," he said.

I remembered Kamil's threat that he would kill all of my family if I tried to run. I hoped that had been a bluff, that he still needed them for whatever hold they might have on me. "Very likely. He'll use my family as hostages against me." I sighed. "All right. I'll let Mungke go back into the camp. Then we should head north. We can make some time before sunset. We need to get out of here before Kamil sends scouts out after us."

"And he will. Where to, besides north?"

I gave him a tired smile. "Haerbin. The box of wishes can be destroyed there."

"Time to travel then. You had best tell Mungke and then be on our way. How are we going to contact him? I have spells that can travel to him and back."

At least something had gone right. "That was what I was hoping. We can check in with him at intervals. Let me go tell him, and we can be off."

When I got back to Mungke, I saw Sacha sitting on his heels beside him, talking to him. As I approached, I raised an eyebrow at Sacha. "Things you will need to know, but not until later."

What, I couldn't imagine. "Ah. Do you need more time? I was going to let Mungke loose so we could leave."

"No, we are done." There was an expression on Sacha's face that I could not read and didn't like, but I could not ask right now.

"All right." I untied Mungke. "We'll be checking in with message spells at intervals."

He nodded and left, and I watched him go. "Can we trust him?" Sacha asked, quietly.

"Who knows? At the moment, he doesn't have anything he can use to harm us with. I got the impression that he's trustworthy, but he could also have been lying to save his own skin. I'm not trusting my instincts at the moment. I might have a better answer tomorrow. And now, we need to get going."

Sacha followed me back to the horses, and we mounted and began to ride.

The rest of the day and the night passed by, and as dawn came we found ourselves north of Beijing by a fair distance. In the night, we had seen a lot of flight activity, large fluttering shapes like huge bats blocking out the stars. Part bats, part men, we thought, and I thought I knew what the thorn might do.

It was two weeks to Haerbin. By pushing ourselves and the horses, we could make it in ten days. I chose to push. Movement was the only thing that soothed the ache that my mother's death was within me, the only thing that softened my father's words to me. I felt like I was losing both of them. My mother to death, my father to disappointment. And, despite everything I told myself, I felt responsible for my mother's death. I had gotten cocky, and I had chosen to sacrifice her to save myself.

I sank into a silence so profound that even Spirit seemed loath to break it. I went for eight days without saying a word. I spent my nights alone, shaking my head when one or the other of my lovers tried to share my tent.

Sacha had told me, as we'd left, to ask him when I wanted to know what he'd learned from Mungke. I broke my self-imposed silence about two days out from Haerbin. "Tell me," I said as I guided Spirit up beside Sacha. He was riding Nightfall, who picked up her heels a bit when Spirit came to share her space.

Sacha looked briefly startled, then nodded. "I was curious about things. I should have said this sooner but something was wrong about the Khan's tactics in Beijing."

"The fact that he was sitting there throwing ballista at the walls?" My voice felt rusty from disuse.

"And when does the Khan leave an escape route for people? He surrounds the city first."

I shrugged. "That was a little odd, but I chalked it up to the fact that my father isn't exactly himself. What did Mungke say about it?"

Sacha firmed his mouth. "It was a trap for you, from the start," he said, softly. "He knew you had the dulcimer and he figured that you needed the Lee family. He left the gates open so we could get in and he sacrificed the item to draw us out. We missed the clues."

"And I walked right into it, because I thought I could get the gloves." Bitterness churned within me, and the grief for my mother was waking again.

"He was betting on the chance that you would try it. And we did. The only way we survived was because of something he couldn't know. We can shapeshift."

I made a face. "Well, he knows that one, now. I didn't intend that to remain a secret, but I hoped I could sacrifice the secret and get those gloves away from my father."

"But he built fakes."

I looked away, twisted my mouth. "I also think he thought I wouldn't sacrifice my mother to save my own life. And so he let me steal the fakes, let me get away."

Sacha's voice was gentle. "He didn't know what you would sacrifice. What he wanted was all the other items you have but haven't destroyed yet."

"He couldn't know I wouldn't bring them with me. But he might have tried to trade me to you for them, if he hadn't outright killed me." I shook my head. "I did get an answer to a question I've had since the beginning, though."

"Yes?"

I focused on Spirit's mane, the way he was moving, his fluid gait. He was a warm presence, and I twisted my fingers in his mane. "Whether I'll ever be able to go back. I'm not going to. I don't think my father will ever forgive me."

"He said as much?" Sacha asked.

"He didn't seem to even know he has a piece of Kamil controlling his actions. My father was the one who was about to have me hauled out and executed for treason. Not Kamil, as far as I could tell. I tried to explain, but he didn't believe me."

"Influence from Kamil probably, could you tell it wasn't Tolui?"

I shook my head. "Not really, but I also didn't have a reason to suspect he was a Kamil-bearer."

Sacha's voice was gentle. "So can you be sure it wasn't Kamil the whole time?"

I looked over at him, and I saw worry on his face. "It might have been. If it was Kamil, he does a very good impression of the Khan."

"He has had almost two years to perfect it. I wouldn't doubt he has mastered it."

I took a breath, considered this. "True enough. I might be able to ask his forgiveness some day, if I live and he lives. I don't think I'll ever go back for good. But a part of me is homesick for that life," I admitted. It had started with carrying Sinan's child on my hip, grown stronger with the familiar smells of the camp, and then the scolding from my father.

My lover's voice was gentle. "I know, but this life, except for the artifacts and all the people hunting us and the nearly dying daily, seems pretty good. Doesn't it?"

Long breath. I smiled, just a bit, and it felt as if my face would crack. "Except for those things, it does. I miss having children underfoot. But I've gotten to see a lot of the world, and we'll see more before we're done. We've seen so many things that will make wonderful stories."

Sacha reached out for me, and I took his hand briefly. His fingers were warm on mine. As he released my hand, he said, "Sure have, and those children underfoot will be yours someday. You have met a dragon and a unicorn. Talked to a creature made of water. We have had some loss, too."

I nodded. "The brotherhood has been on our trail, destroying the places we've been, and my sister's dead, and my mother. We're doing something good for the world, as much as Kamil keeps trying to twist my perceptions of it. It's a good life, even with the nearly dying on a regular basis."

"It is," he said, and there was a warmth in his eyes and in his voice. I felt, as I kept talking to him, that I was finally coming out of the silent place I had found myself in. There were some silences that were too dark even for me, it seemed. Sacha continued, "Now I don't want to get all serious on you, but I do want to remind you of something."

"What's that?" I asked.

"Remember our training?"

I snorted. "How could I forget?"

"Remember our instructor, Jaeil? She said the moment it becomes personal to you, people you love die."

I could hear her voice, scolding me, and I flinched. I thought about it for a moment, then raised my eyes to Sacha's. "I remember. I've let it get personal, haven't I?"

"You have, so did I. A first year could have seen that trap."

"And keeping it personal will get us all killed." I shook my head. "If we'd seen the trap, we could have avoided it, come back later. Or sprung it, and let the Lee family be killed."

Sacha nodded. "Remember most that Tolui and the Khan are probably dead already. If you can, then this will be a lot easier on you, and it might save some others."

No, something whispered in me. No, there still has to be hope! I can still save them! But that voice was likely wrong. My throat hurt, and I swallowed. My voice shook. "I hate to give up on them like that. But--you're right. Kamil has had them both too long. They are like every other Kamil-bearer--to be dealt with as the situation arises."

"I know that's hard, but I think that was the lesson back there. You may have to kill them to set them free. Redemption may not be an option." His voice was soft, and for a moment I longed to have him hold me. Remind me that I was real, I was alive.

"I hate it. But you're right." I gritted my teeth. "I had really hoped I could at least save my father."

"I know," Sacha said.

I wiped my tearing eyes, swallowed. "This is a job. No more. No less. I've saved the ones I can so far. If I do the job well, I may avoid having more of my family die. My family who's not infected by Kamil, that is. I swear, that man is like a plague."

"He is, and he is a plague that is pissing you off. And that is his advantage. He fears you, so he antagonizes you to force mistakes. Because if you are on your game, he can't win."

I almost chuckled as I weighed Sacha's words. He was right. I had come so far not only by luck, but by skill, and the skill of those with me. Kamil might be smarter than I was, but as far as I could tell he didn't have the sense to come in out of the rain. I was a Mongol, and a scout, and good at what I did. In order to beat me, Kamil had to either beat me at my own game, or change the game to one of his.

He had done it, too. But he had taken a step over the line. I knew the stakes, now, and I knew what I was fighting for.

This was my game. This was a job. This was what I was good at. I smiled, and this time I didn't feel as though my face was cracking. "True enough. I may not be the best, but I'm surely one of the best. He might be powerful, but as long as I'm actually using my head, I can circumvent that power."

"Just wanted to remind you of that," Sacha said, and returned my smile.

I sat back a bit, and contemplated this man, this man who had so many sides I'd never suspected when I'd chosen to bring him along with me. "Thank you. You've come a long way, you know, Sacha. A year ago, you never would have brought that up."

"I would have thought of it a year ago, I just wouldn't have said it."

I nodded. "I know. I'm glad you did."

"Time to see a woodcutter about a box," he said, and nodded to the road ahead with a smile.

It was, indeed. There was still a shadow weighing on me as we rode towards Haerbin, but I thought that I could bear it. Do this one thing, and then disappear for as long as it took to get to Lhasa and then to Beksdash, to destroy the Eye.

I could do it.

I hoped.