Page 34

CHAPTER 34

REN

The Floating World

REN AWOKE TO a light probing at her eyes. It glimmered from across a dark room, through a thin gap between latched windows, poking and prodding, as if seeking entrance.

She quickly rose from her bedding, stepping from the silken blankets, and hurried toward the light. She lifted the latch and pulled one side of the window open by a brass ring.

A breeze swept into the room, and it was like being doused in a cool stream. She hadn’t known until then how accustomed she’d grown to the smoke of the Under World. She breathed in deeply, letting the chilled air fill her lungs.

It was still early in the morning, the sun not yet risen. Her window overlooked a courtyard surrounded by elegant buildings with sloping rooftops. The light came from a lantern outside her window that hung from the branch of a magnificent plum tree. It was resplendent, with crimson blossoms that swayed in the wind like fire.

A light rapping sound came from the opposite side of the room.

“Princess, are you awake?” a voice murmured, before a door shifted open, and a woman entered. She stood on the threshold, her hand to her chest. “Am I dreaming?” she whispered. “Ten years have passed and while I’ve remained unchanged, you’ve transformed into a beautiful young lady.”

Ren’s heart surged, recognizing the woman immediately. Her nursemaid, Doona.

She raced across the room, falling into the older woman’s arms. She hadn’t imagined, in returning to the Floating World, she’d meet someone from her past whom she remembered, let alone cared for.

“Where am I?” Ren said, releasing Doona as she sat back, both having slid to the smooth wooden floorboards upon their reunion. “This isn’t the palace.”

Though Ren had few memories of her early life, she would have known if she was there . It wasn’t because of the view from her window—the grounds of the palace were vast, no doubt there were similar views to be found—it was the silence. Even from within the palace walls, the roar of the waterfall was ever present, though muted; it became thunderous as one approached the cliffs.

Here there was no faraway rumbling. Her gaze traveled to the window, where a magpie had landed on one of the lower branches of the plum tree, chirping cheerily among the flame-like leaves.

“We are at Bright Moon Temple,” Doona answered, “a half day’s journey by foot from the celestial city.”

Doona took Ren’s hands in her own. Her voice was urgent as she spoke. “The general has amassed a great army. He means to seize total control of the Floating World.”

Ren grimaced. General Iljin, it seemed, was finally enacting the plan that he’d started ten years ago when he’d murdered Sareniya’s queen; he no longer needed the nobles’ wealth, nor their cooperation. He would take the Floating World with the strength of his army and become her first-ever king.

“You are safe here,” Doona continued. “This is a sacred place. The general wouldn’t dare bring his soldiers to the temple.”

While the general’s soldiers were loyal, many were also Sareniyans, not just in background, but in religion . Desecrating the temple would only anger and create dissent among the pious in his ranks. It occurred to Ren that the general had deemed her an imposter for this reason, to incite his soldiers; impersonation of a goddess was the highest form of blasphemy.

Ren shook her head. “I can’t stay.”

A crease formed between Doona’s brow. “But you’ve only just returned.”

“Not by choice,” Ren explained. “Lady Maya…” She couldn’t bring herself to call her Aunt , as she hadn’t known of her until the evening before, and even if they shared the same blood, the noblewoman was a stranger to her. “She threatened the safety of my friends. That’s why I agreed to come back. I’m leaving as soon as possible. Is she still at the temple?”

“She is in the Hall of Slumbering Pines, in council with the other nobles who support your claim to the throne.”

Ren forced a laugh. It was ironic that the nobles who planned for her to take the throne hadn’t bothered to invite her to the council where they plotted on how to claim it.

“I need to speak with Lady Maya,” Ren said, rising to her feet. “Will you take me to her?”

Doona held Ren’s gaze for a long minute. “Lady Maya bade me to attend you until the council had reached its conclusion,” she said finally.

Ren felt a pang of disappointment, but she didn’t blame Doona. She’d been a child when Doona was her nursemaid, but it was likely someone from the royal family had appointed her—perhaps it was even Lady Maya herself—so that they could control her.

Doona’s answer, though, did mean Ren needed another plan. She could easily escape through the window. The branches of the plum tree looked sturdy enough to hold her weight.

“Your mother…” Ren looked back to find Doona gazing at the magpie on the tree branch. “She was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen, yet happiness eluded her. She was like a bird in a gilded cage, clipped of her wings.”

Ren’s chest tightened, as it always did when she thought of her mother.

Doona inhaled a deep breath, then, releasing it, she stood. “Come with me. I’ll take you to the hall.”

Relief flooded Ren as she followed Doona from the room.

The temple wasn’t a single building but several dozen spread out along the slope of a mountain. From the courtyard with the plum tree, they ventured farther inward. Whoever had designed the temple had been careful to accommodate the mountainous terrain. Ren followed Doona up steep stone steps and over rickety bridges that spanned deep gorges, down which Ren was careful not to look.

As they walked, Ren noticed several large, rectangular buildings with the same sloping rooftops. Each were divided into small open-air rooms, where people of all ages lay on pallets, tended to by temple attendants.

“Bright Moon Temple exists as a place of worship, but it’s also a sanctuary for those seeking solitude and convalescence,” Doona said, following her gaze. “There are natural pools nearby that have healing properties. The sick and infirm are welcome here. No one is turned away.”

After some time, they reached the Hall of Slumbering Pines, located at the highest point of the temple grounds. The nobles were already leaving the pavilion when they arrived.

Spotting her, Lady Maya rushed over. She grabbed Ren by the arm and pulled her around the corner of the building, with Doona scurrying to follow.

“I ordered you to keep her in her room,” Lady Maya hissed at the maidservant.

Ren frowned. “It was my doing. Doona was only—”

“Leave us,” Lady Maya spat. “You’re dismissed.”

Doona bowed, sparing Ren a worried glance before slipping back the way they’d come.

Ren stared at her aunt. Had she wondered if she could learn to embrace her aunt as kin, that thought was shattered. “That was unnecessary,” Ren said coldly.

“Sareniya.”

“My name is Ren.”

“Regardless, you bear the name Sareniya, like your mother, and her mother before her.”

Ren gritted her teeth. Lady Maya was all that stood between her and the general—she couldn’t risk antagonizing her more than she already had.

“What conclusion did the council draw?” Ren asked.

Lady Maya pursed her lips, and Ren thought at first her aunt wouldn’t answer her. “We’re sending an envoy at first light to negotiate with the general. If it’s legitimacy that he wants, an arrangement can be made.” Lady Maya scrunched her nose, as if she’d smelled something foul. “He has a son, I believe, though it grieves me to sully the bloodline with such a marriage.”

Ren gaped at Lady Maya. She meant for Ren to marry Jaeil. Even if the general agreed to such a plan, Ren would never.

It didn’t matter, anyway. It wasn’t legitimacy the general wanted. It was restitution. What else could he desire after ten years of war? A soldier cared little for bloodlines.

“What if I told you that I don’t want to be queen?” Ren asked.

Lady Maya lifted a brow. “You don’t have a choice.” She studied Ren, as if Ren were a creature from another world entirely, and…

… she was.

“Don’t you want to reclaim your throne?” Lady Maya asked, in a tone that was genuinely curious. “Take revenge on the general for stealing your birthright? He murdered your mother.”

Lady Maya spoke of her mother’s death so casually, as if it hadn’t changed the course of two worlds, as if it hadn’t broken Ren’s heart.

Ren could feel the call of revenge in every shattered heartbeat, in the burning behind her eyes every time she thought of her mother; for so long, she’d buried her rage, confusion, and despair, not wanting to face what had happened at the edge of the world.

She thought she could let go of the throne, her birthright , if it wasn’t for that night, and it scared her, that she might give up everything —her home with Auntie and Little Uncle, of a life of peace and happiness and love—in exchange for immeasurable sorrow and pain.

“I came with you because I was worried about the safety of my friends,” Ren whispered, saying the words more to convince herself than for the other woman.

“You can bring your companions here,” Lady Maya said, “criminals though they may be.” She hesitated. “I’ll even overlook any indiscretions you might have.” When Ren realized what, and who , she meant, her cheeks heated. “The goddess knows it’s in your blood.”

That stopped her short, and she frowned. “What do you mean?” Ren breathed.

“Your mother had a lover,” Lady Maya sneered, “before she married your esteemed father. A soldier. After their affair was discovered, he was killed.”

Ren felt her head spinning, horror curdling in her chest. Her mother had once been in love, and they’d killed him. Had they murdered him in front of her? What would such an act do to a person? They’d broken not just her heart but her spirit.

A loud thunk from the roof of the pavilion startled them both.

Lady Maya frowned as a piece of tile slid from the rooftop and landed at her feet.

For a long moment, they stared at the large clay shard, then a clattering groan swept across the entirety of the roof as hundreds of tiles began to pour off the edge like water.

“Watch out!” Ren screamed. She yanked Lady Maya aside just as the side of the building collapsed. They tumbled to the ground, with Lady Maya landing atop Ren’s injured shoulder. Ren cried out as her wound reopened.

Dust coated the air. When it settled, Ren realized they were no longer alone. A woman stood before them, dressed entirely in black except for the bottom half of her face, which was wrapped in red cloth.

“How dare you—?” Lady Maya sputtered.

The woman leaped at Lady Maya, drawing her sword in one quick motion. Ren grabbled behind her, her hand circling around a rock, and she hurled it in the assassin’s direction. It connected with her head, and she stumbled backward.

Ren didn’t wait to see the assassin recover; she raced to her aunt and dragged her to her feet. “Come on!” Ren shouted, pulling her toward the steps that led from the hall.

She heard the screams before she rounded the corner. From her vantage, she could see the entirety of the temple grounds. The sun hadn’t risen, yet the sky was red. Fire. The buildings were on fire; their beautiful wooden frameworks collapsed into heaps beneath the flames.

A large airship had landed outside the main gates, and dark figures poured onto the grounds, engaging in battle with the temple guards.

The chaos, the noise, the fear—it reminded Ren of the demon’s attack on Gorye Village, and for a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. In the distance, she could see the plum tree, its blossoms smoldering to ash.

“Let go of me!” Lady Maya screamed. She pushed Ren to the ground, rushing off into the darkness.

Ren felt numbness overtake her. She didn’t care that her aunt had just abandoned her. As she stared out at the destruction of Bright Moon Temple, her memories of the night at Gorye Village began to blur with the vision before her until she couldn’t tell what was the past and what was the present.

“Princess!”

Doona.

“Princess, what are you doing?” Doona wrapped her arms around Ren, helping her to stand. She guided Ren down the stairs and beneath the shelter of a pine tree. “Hurry, there’s a passage in the mountains that leads to the other side. I’ll take you there.”

Ren gazed at the woman’s soot-stained face. “You came back for me.” Ren almost choked on the words.

Doona’s gaze softened, and she lifted a hand to brush a strand of Ren’s hair from her eyes. “I looked for you that night ten years ago. I lost you then—I’ll never lose you again.”

Ren felt her strength returning to her. “The path to the cave is nearby,” Doona said. “Hurry.”

She bade Ren go ahead of her, pushing her forward. As Ren took a step, she heard Doona gasp. She knew what she would see even as she whirled around.

An assassin stood behind Doona, holding a bow, empty now of its arrow.

Ren felt her whole body stiffen, then she screamed, rushing toward the assassin, snatching a dagger from his belt and slashing it wildly at his chest.

She fought with all the ferocity she possessed. But it wasn’t enough. She was trained to tumble and entertain, not to fight, to kill, and the assassin easily knocked the dagger from her hand, twisting her arm behind her back.

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, from her wrist that was a snap away from breaking, the anger that felt like a knife piercing her heart.

“Unhand her,” Jaeil’s cold, hard voice rang out. “The general wants her alive.”