You must have thought the same, for you squeezed my arm. “Do not worry, my love,” you said. “You have not changed in your appearance.”
And it was then that they burst open the doors. Two dozen armed guards just to retrieve you. Two dozen armed guards who stopped in their tracks when they saw me.
I met their eyes, each and every one of them. Some were afraid. Others angered. But that did not change the state of things.
I held up my hands, palms out, to show I was not going to hurt anyone.
You stepped in front of me. “Barsalai Shefali lives,” you said.
The guard captain stepped forward. Slack-jawed, he stared at me. With the butt of his spear, he moved my head this way and that. I suffered this, though I know you rankled at it. I did not particularly feel like being impaled that day.
“Oshiro-sun,” he said, despite my proper name being used not two moments before. “I saw your wound myself, three days ago. You have the blackblood. How is it you stand here before me? Have you risen?”
A voice in the back of my mind shouted that I should tear his heart out for questioning me. I closed my eyes long enough to banish it. My hand twitched. The guards fell into position as one.
I opened my eyes to find two dozen pikes leveled at my face.
“No,” I said. “I didn’t die.”
“Impossible!” shouted the guard captain. “I saw it myself—”
“And now you see us standing here, Captain, and hear her words,” you said. You stood between the two of us, your arms on your hips. “If Uemura-zul is here, then you may bring us to him. But you are not to restrain Barsalai in any way. Am I understood?”
“She’s a demon!” shouted one of the men. “Look at her eyes!”
“Sir! We have to kill her, she’s enspelled the Imperial Niece!”
I wanted so badly to roll my eyes. As if magic were real, beyond the simple things healers could do. As if we lived in the Age Long Gone, as if anyone had seen a fox woman or a phoenix or even a lion dog in centuries.
“She has not,” you said. “I will offer you any proof you like.”
You reached for your short sword and pricked your finger. A single ruby of blood flowed from the tip.
It looked delicious, like a cherry ready to be eaten and …
I am sorry, my love. My affliction is … it is like hearing your most base urges shouted back at you by an entire army. Things that would normally be fleeting distractions become horrible drones.
But if you have read this far, then you deserve to know what I thought, and when I thought it, and all the terrible things that came to mind. As I have wondered what went on behind your amber eyes, so you must’ve wondered what went on behind my green ones.
And so I say to you now that since my infection, blood has not looked the same. It has not tasted the same, either, on the few occasions I’ve been made to taste it. Gone is copper, gone is metal. Instead, it is sweet as the first fruits of spring.
I do not consume it. I will not reduce myself to such acts. But I have had to leave a room more than once.
At the time, this was not so familiar to me as it is now. I was sickened by myself. How could I think such a thing about you? About your blood?
What if this was how it started?
You smeared the blood in a lotus shape on your palm and named the Heavenly Family as you did. Your last petal was the Daughter’s, and you kissed that one when you were done with it.
“I swear it to be true in blood and spirit, and if I am wrong, may I wilt where I stand. Barsalai has not bewitched me.”
A moment of silence. I think they were waiting for you to wilt. Occasionally it has been known to happen with false oaths. Or at least it did, when the gods-in-flesh still roamed.
When you did not wilt, the party relaxed as much as they could when confronted with someone who is possibly a demon.
“Now, Captain,” you said, crossing one arm across your chest and gesturing with the bloody one. “Lead us to Uemura-zul. And do be sure to introduce us properly.”
The guard captain grit his teeth.
But he did lead us through the barracks; he did lead us out near the Wall. A large pavilion tent with Imperial flags stood not far away. Such tents have always puzzled me. The felt walls of a ger are more warm, more comfortable, than canvas could ever be. Why, then, do outlanders insist on canvas tents? A small tent is one thing. If only one or two people are traveling, a tent is preferable. But any tent large enough to fit four or more should be a ger.
This is a gross failing of your people, and I expect to see it rectified by the time I return. You have the power. Do not disappoint me.
The three of us stepped inside the Imperial tent. I tried not to reach for your hand. It was such a natural thing to do, Shizuka, like breathing, except I was not sure if I was breathing. I was sure that I needed to feel your skin on mine. Though we were only a handspan apart, I might as well have been in Ikhtar.
But we were not in Ikhtar, we were in Shiseiki, and we had a rice-eater to deal with. Uemura Kaito sat in front of a shallow desk. On it, a map of Shiseiki and the lands beyond the wall. He was younger than I expected; five years older than us at most. He kept his hair long, in the old style, tied into a topknot. The tip of his chin was prickly as a hedgehog. Bushy sideburns needed trimming. A thin scar ran from his ear to corner of his mouth. He wore deep green robes beneath gold-trimmed armor. One sword was tucked into his belt.
When we entered, he flashed us a friendly smile. The guard captain announced us. He used my Hokkaran name, of course. Uemura rose and bowed to you from the waist. For me, a short bow from the shoulder. He gestured to two mats for us to sit on.
“O-Shizuka-shon, it is always a pleasure to be near you,” he said.
Sycophants disgusted you. I prepared myself for your cutting retort.
“Uemura-zul,” you said, “you are courteous as ever, but we both know you did not come here simply to be near to me.”
“Would that I did!” he said.
And something bitter rolled in my stomach. By your standards, that was outright inviting!
Wasn’t it?
Laughter in my ears. See how she looks at him, Steel-Eye? She has always admired his sword.…
No. No, no, no. You were just being polite. Just saying hello. You were allowed to speak to other people, I did not own you, you were not a thing to be owned.
But what if?
I squeezed my eyes shut. Forced myself to take a breath.
“Oshiro-sun,” he said, “I was told you were … injured.”
Ah. So he did know I existed.
How to respond? How does one broach that subject? Yes, I was infected with a disease that kills its victims within three days before twisting them into abominations that must be slain lest they slaughter everything in sight. No, I don’t feel like slaughtering everything in sight.
I met Uemura’s eyes. Silently I nodded.
He tugged at his whiskers. “I was, in fact, told you contracted the blackblood.”