Lilette’s toes pushed off the rocks. She swam upward and broke the surface to take a gasping breath.
Pan stood at the rim of the cliffs, her arms folded over her chest. “Come on, Li. The others want to head back soon.”
Her words had a hard, biting edge that made Lilette inwardly cringe. She gazed downstream and felt a sudden urge to just swim away and slip into the jungle, evading Bian and his sons while gathering enough supplies to survive the week-long journey at sea. After that, she would have to steal a boat, and then it was merely a matter of navigating by starlight.
Simple, really.
“You think he sent us here alone?” Pan said as if guessing Lilette’s thoughts.
Of course not, Lilette mused bitterly. After her last escape attempt, he’d had her guarded day and night.
“I’ll call for them if I need to,” Pan went on, her voice flat.
Lilette hadn’t just lost Salfe that night. She’d lost her only other friend too, for Pan had made it clear she would never forgive Lilette for causing her brother’s banishment.
“Come on,” Pan said. “I need to practice fixing your hair.”
Lilette let the weight of her body pull her under again and swam to the edge of the pool. She pulled herself out of the water, her bare legs flashing pale as her hands and feet found the crevices to haul her up the cliffs.
At the top, Pan was waiting for her. “This is how things are for a woman, Li. With Fa dead, the village lord decides who you marry. If you’d just accept it, you could be happy.”
Lilette winced at the mention of Fa’s name. The sun hadn’t even set on the day of her surrogate father’s death before the village lord had announced she would be marrying him. “If you really believe I could be happy with Bian, you don’t know me at all.”
“He never shouts at my mother or my aunties,” Pan replied as if speaking to a small child. “And he plays with his daughters almost as much as his sons.”
Lilette knew better. She’d been born into a world where women ruled because they were the ones with magic. But that was oceans and a lifetime away from the Harshen islands.
She pushed the rising fury deep into her belly. In the darkness following her parents’ deaths, Pan had sat beside her, bringing her pink iridescent shells and combing her hair. Over the years, as Lilette longed to go home to her older sister, Pan had coaxed her out of the hut and down to this very pool.
Lilette thought she had locked her heart safely away. But if that was true, why did Pan’s coldness and Salfe’s banishment hurt so much?
The water had turned Pan’s normally frizzy dark hair into gorgeous curls. Lilette hesitated, then reached out and tugged one, a sad smile on her lips as the curl sprang back up. “We’ll never get to come swimming anymore.”
Pan batted her hand away. “Not everything changes just because you’re a wife.”
“Everything changes.” Lilette gazed into the jeweled tones of the water, hoping to see a different future reflecting back at her.
Pan seemed to soften. “Is it so very bad, marrying my father?”
Lilette’s hands curled into fists. She wasn’t going to marry Bian. By the Creators, she was escaping tonight. She would make it back to her homeland and the sister who was waiting for her. Afraid her eyes might betray her, she avoided Pan’s gaze and took a deep breath. She’d have a better chance at freedom if Pan dropped her guard. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s not so bad.”
Lilette pulled on the tunic and loose trousers Bian had given her. She allowed a very small part of herself to enjoy the finery. The tunic hung to the middle of her calves, with a side slit that reached to her upper thigh. She tied the pleated silk sash around her waist and pinned a jade brooch to the front of it. Unlike her homespun cotton clothes, which had knots and bumps from her hand spindle, this was silk, so soft it was like wearing tensile oil. Both robe and tunic were a rich blue. Lilette hadn’t worn color since she’d washed up on the island eight years ago. She and Fa had never been able to afford dyed cotton—let alone silk.
She’d forgotten what it felt like to wear something that didn’t rub sores under her arms. She ran her hands down the length of her stomach, remembering the closets of fine clothes she’d once had. As usual, she forced away the memories of her previous life, surprised that any of them still surfaced.
She slipped on her new, finely tooled sandals. Pan’s sigh held an undercurrent of envy. “He was so generous with your bride price.”
No one seemed to care that Bian was old enough to be Lilette’s father, that he already had three wives and dozens of children. All that mattered was that he’d showered her with fabulous clothes, brooches, and winking rings—all of which only made his wives hate her. The fact that Lilette didn’t want the gifts or the attention only seemed to make them hate her more.
Pan looked Lilette up and down. She reached out, stopping just shy of touching the fine silk before withdrawing her hand. “Sit down.”
Lilette sat gingerly on a large rock Pan had draped with palm leaves to protect her clothing. She studied the other girls, Pan’s younger sisters. All seven of them were chatting happily as they plaited flowers in each other’s hair. They all looked very much alike with their darker skin, curling black hair, and laughing, almond-shaped eyes—very different from Lilette’s golden skin, pale hair, and brilliant turquoise eyes.
Pan’s quick fingers worked rich-smelling oils into Lilette’s hair before tugging a little more roughly than necessary at the knots with the comb. “You’re hair is so thin,” Pan complained as she bound Lilette’s hair into complicated rolls and poufs. She placed three white orchids, the symbol of fertility, behind her ear. Lilette brushed her fingertips along the petals, resisting the urge to rip the flowers from her hair.
Pan’s next younger sister knelt behind Pan and watched them shyly. “Sing for us, Auntie,” she said.
Lilette held back a wince at being called Auntie. She studied the cluster of girls who would be her stepdaughters if she failed to escape tonight. She imagined Bian’s dark eyes watching her, possessing her, and she shuddered.
Lilette took a deep breath and sang one of Fa’s songs.
Down to the depths of the stream you must pour
Heartache and loneliness, hurt, and what’s more,
Missed opportunities passing you by.
Mistakes and aches, let them fly
Into the stream of forgetting.
The world around Lilette stilled, waiting for something more, but she hadn’t sung the words in the Creators’ language—the language of power. She’d buried her knowledge of that language so deep she could only remember one song, and that one only recently.
As last note drifted away, the elements slowly went back to sleep. In the quiet that followed, Lilette fingered the phoenix carved into the decorative comb Salfe had given her. It was the only thing of value she truly owned. The only thing she’d take with her when she escaped.
Pan tugged the comb from her fingers and slipped it into Lilette’s hair. “Not quite straight,” she murmured and shifted it. The comb suddenly jerked out, taking some of Lilette’s hair with it. She yelped and whirled to look at Pan. At the look on her friend’s face, the words she might have said froze in her throat. She followed Pan’s gaze to see a man watching them from the shadows—probably Quo, one of Pan’s many brothers.
But instead of running away in shame for having been caught watching the women swimming, he slowly rose to his feet. Lilette took a breath to threaten to tell Bian, but the man stepped into the light. Lilette didn’t recognize him, which was impossible. She knew everyone on their small island.
“Hello, Lilette.”
Her mouth came open in a noiseless gasp. He’d spoken in her native tongue—Kalarian. And used her full name. No one had called her that in eight years.
She rose to her feet and took in his dark hair bound in a queue, the fine features and full mouth. But it was the poised way he stood, the leather-and bronze-studded armor he w
ore that gave him away. She realized with a start that she did know this man.
Chen had come to kill her, just as his father had killed her parents. The fear that had long slumbered in Lilette roared to life, and the air seemed thin and wavering. “It can’t be.”
“Who are you?” Pan’s voice came out breathy.
Where were Bian’s sons? Lilette was suddenly frightened for them. They would be worse than useless against Chen.
“Quo? Zu? Ji?” Pan called. When they didn’t answer, her face paled and she cleared her throat. “What do you want?”
“He’s come to murder me,” Lilette answered.
Chen’s brow furrowed as he turned to her. “Murder you? No. You will become my concubine.”
Lilette narrowed her gaze. “I don’t believe you.”
Pan puffed out her chest in a show of bravado. “You can’t have her. She’s already taken.”
Lilette rested her hand on Pan’s shoulder in warning.
“Yes,” Chen agreed. “Long ago.” He motioned with one hand. Dozens of men eased from the shadows of the jungle, the sharp sunlight of midday revealing their leather armor reinforced with bronze studs. Each man carried two long swords at his waist or across his back. Some also carried halberds, the wicked blades resembling half moons. The heavily armed men blocked the way back to the village.
Lilette and the others made to dive into the pool, but soldiers appeared at the base of the cliff. They were surrounded.
“Quo! Ji! Zu!” Pan cried for her brothers, this time her voice full of fear instead of supplication.
“Are you looking for them?” At a gesture from Chen, the soldiers brought forth three boys who were almost men. Each was bound and gagged, eyes wide with fright. Quo’s cheek was swollen and his face bloodied.
Chen eyed Lilette up and down. “This isn’t going to be nearly as arduous as I thought.”
She knew firsthand this man’s ruthlessness. If she didn’t do something soon, everyone would die. “Let them go.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you giving me an order?”
She swallowed. “If what you say is true—if you really mean to make me your concubine—I’ll come quietly.”
Chen looked pointedly at the men surrounding the females. “You’ll come either way.”
Lilette’s hand snaked out and grabbed Pan’s knife from its sheath. She held the blade to her throat, hoping against hope he’d spoken the truth before and didn’t mean to kill her.
Some of the cockiness fled Chen’s face. “You won’t use that.”
Lilette pressed down and the tip bit into her skin. Her flesh parted, the metal sliding inside her. Blood dripped down her neck, soaking her beautiful robes.
“Chen!” said one of his soldiers, a man with a scar that stretched from one mangled ear all the way across his cheek before biting into his nose.
Chen stretched his hand toward Lilette, palm forward, and spoke to his men. “Let them go. I have no need for them.”
Pan’s eyes seemed enormous in her pale face. “Li—”
“They’re going to take me anyway,” Lilette whispered. “Just go! Don’t look back.”
Pan took in the soldiers with their swords and spears. In her fist, she still gripped Lilette’s decorative jade comb. Hands shaking, Pan stepped forward and gently slid the comb into place. Her lips beside Lilette’s ear, she whispered, “I’ll send my father and the other men after you.”
“No!” Lilette hissed. But Pan was already herding her sisters toward a gap the soldiers had created, their dispassionate gazes watching the girls pass.
“The boys too.” Lilette’s voice cracked.
Chen’s gaze darkened, and Lilette knew she would pay dearly for their freedom. After a moment he nodded. Bian’s sons stumbled after their sisters.
Only when they were all on the other side of the soldiers did Pan look back.
“Don’t,” Lilette mouthed.
Pan pushed her sisters forward. “Run!”
A sick horror rose in Lilette’s middle as she realized she would probably never see Pan again. She considered using the blade. It might be a kinder fate than what awaited her. But soldiers were already swarming her, and the knife was ripped from her grip by the scarred soldier.
Chen came to stand before her. When he made no move to kill her, she went weak with relief. “Why?” she choked out.
His dark eyes bored into hers. “Because our daughters will have your power.”
Metallic taste of fear filled Lilette’s mouth. When she’d prayed to the Sun Dragon to free her from marrying Bian, she should have been more specific.
“Why not sing?” Chen asked. “You were rumored to have been strong enough.”
She realized he’d been expecting it—testing her, even. She refused to meet his gaze. But the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. She scoured her mind for the words of the Creators’ language—the language of power. But she only remembered one song, and it was worthless against these men.
His brows rose. “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”
She glared at him, hating the tears of frustration in her eyes.
Chen turned and began marching away. “Form up.”
The soldiers tightened into formation around her, but none moved to touch her. They started marching, forcing Lilette to move with them. She continued to wrack her brain for one more song, any song, but she’d shoved her memories down too deep for too long.
The dense canopy blocked out the sun, leaving little light for the growth of underbrush. So when the plants around Lilette started to thicken and the men had to hack at them with their swords, she knew they were close to the edge of the jungle. And at the end of the jungle was the sea.
The hard ground became loose and sandy before they stepped out of the jungle into the oppressive light and heat. A zhou was anchored off shore. It was easily five times larger than the largest fishing boats in the village, with three wide sails and dozens of men on deck.
Lilette knew what fate awaited her once she was onboard. She tried to dart between two soldiers. One caught her, his grip firm as he pushed her into the middle of the group. She whirled and tried again. Another soldier easily caught her and forced her back toward the center.
Emboldened by their carefulness with her, Lilette shot toward the scarred soldier and kicked him with all her strength. She’d hoped he would falter, but he absorbed the impact, and the blow seemed to hurt her far more than it had him. He grasped her about her waist, holding her firmly. She beat against his chest.
The formation halted. While Chen watched, two soldiers caught her wrists and bound them with soft cords. The flowers in her hair had come loose. They swung against her check, their sweet smell nearly making her gag.
Chen carefully tucked them back into place behind her ear. “If you’re not careful,” he said dispassionately, “you’re going to hurt yourself.”
He backed away from her and resumed his place up front. “We can’t afford any delays,” he said almost apologetically. “Fight any more and we’ll bind your feet and carry you. Understand?”
The wound at her neck had broken back open, spilling blood down her neck and chest and making her tunic cling to her. She nodded dizzily, and Chen gave her a small smile. “Good girl.”
He turned toward the scarred soldier. “Get her in the boat.”
The man took her elbow and dragged her down the beach to a small rowboat that had been towed onto shore. He easily hefted her inside. She looked into his eyes and was surprised to see a hint of compassion. “Please.” Don’t do this to me. Let me go.
His gaze darkened and he turned away. Something whistled through the air and landed with a thud near his feet.
Lilette nearly cried out with joy to see a fishing spear quivering in the ground. She knew the spear had been a warning—the men of her village could easily impale a fish from twenty breadths.
“Phalanx formation!” Chen ordered.
Soldiers who had been climbing inside the bo
at leapt back out and loped forward, their spears held before them. Men from her village stepped slowly out of the jungle. Bian was among them, as was Quo, his eye now swollen completely shut. The men held fishing spears, long knives strapped to their waists.
The two groups appraised each other. Lilette’s villagers outnumbered these men, but even she knew that fisherman against trained soldiers didn’t make for good odds.
Bian took a step forward. His hair was shot through with gray, his skin weathered by the sea, but he still carried himself like a younger man. “Who are you, and why have you taken my wife?”
Chen reached into his armor and pulled out a drawstring purse, which he tossed at Bian’s feet. “To compensate you for her bride price.”
Slowly, Bian bent and lifted the bulging purse. He opened it and his eyes widened. One of the elders said something and Bian passed the purse over.
Another villager called out, “You cannot buy another man’s wife.”
Chen tipped his head to the side. “She’s not a wife until the marriage is consummated. Until then, the contract may be bought out by another.”
How could Chen possibly know so much about her betrothal?
Bian studied the soldiers surrounding Lilette. “By law, you cannot take her if I do not agree to the exchange.”
Chen lifted his swords. “If you wish to die, come and try to take her then.”
The scarred soldier stepped closer to Chen and said softly, “You slaughter an entire village and there will be consequences, Chen.”
“Remember your place, little brother,” Chen said. “These peasants are no threat to us.”
Brother? Lilette’s gaze shot back to the scarred man, searching for the boy she’d once known. To her utter shock, she found him there, in the eyes that had once been gentle and full of life. Now they were just empty.
“Han?” she said softly.
He flinched, as if his name on her lips was utterly repulsive. What could have happened to him to turn him into this? He’d sat beside her for hours, patiently teaching her how to speak Harshen so she wouldn’t be so lonely.