The Broken Knife

Kaz froze. How could she possibly know? “I don’t-” he tried. “Why would you-?”

Lianhua leaned forward, amethyst eyes intense. “In many ways,” she said, “I’m nothing special. I come from a respected clan, but we don’t seek power. I’m attractive, but there are many who are far more beautiful. I’m intelligent, but there are many who wish I was less so.” She glanced toward their camp.

Looking back at Kaz, she went on. “However, I have one exceptional skill; I can sense auras, even ones people are trying to conceal. Because of this, no one with power can hide from me,” her eyes twinkled, “including Chi Yincang, though his clan is very good at stealth. I can also tell which monsters have cores.”

Sighing, Lianhua shook her head. “This skill makes me very valuable to certain people. If no one can hide their strength from me, I cannot be tricked into believing them weak. No one can stalk me from the shadows. And if I were to go hunting beasts, I could tell my party which monsters to slay, and which are a waste of time and resources. And, presumably, I could also pass on this gift to my children.”

Kaz stared at her, uncertain why she was telling him this, but feeling the first cold spike of fear drain from him as she continued speaking.

“But,” she said, “I don’t want to be the first wife of a clan leader. I don’t want to live a life of luxury, never knowing who I can trust, limited in what I can and can’t do. I don’t want my children to be at risk because of their ability or position, or forced into a life they don’t want. So I’m here. If I can find what I’m looking for, I’ll prove my worth, and be granted a position no one can take away from me.”

He shook his head. “Why are you telling me this?”

Reaching up, Lianhua rubbed the spot above and between her eyes where her power swirled. “Because I want you to trust me. Because we both need something the other one can help us with, that we can’t share with-”

Her gaze slanted back to the males, who were now gathered around the fire, staring into it as males seemed compelled to do.

Leaning forward, Lianhua said, “Gaoda was sent to ‘help’ me, but he sees it as a chance to woo me away from the sect heirs. If he married me, it would greatly boost his status in his clan. I… don’t want that. I don’t want to marry anyone. But Gaoda is in a perfect position to make sure I fail, in which case I’ll be forced to marry someone, and he would like it to be him.”

Meeting Kaz’s eyes, she said, “I need help. And you have a secret you need to keep. If you swear to do all you can to aid me, I will do the same.”

Carefully, Kaz said, “This secret you think I have-”

He broke off as Lianhua gave him a look. “You have a dragon in your pack,” she said flatly. “I don’t know how or why, but you do, and it’s obvious why you wouldn’t want anyone to know. All dragons have cores, even young ones, and dragon cores are very, very valuable. As it is, Gaoda Xiang is going to be a wealthy man once he returns with the cores from the hatchlings he gathered earlier. And that is going to make it even more difficult for me to escape him.”

Kaz’s mouth opened and closed again with a snap. Finally, he managed, “What do you want from me?”

Lianhua’s eyes closed, and for the first time, he realized that she had been as tense as he was, her body taut like a strung bow. “I’m looking for signs of an ancient race. Their civilization covered the area our Sheng empire now controls, plus a great deal more. Where I come from, many of our cities stand atop the remains of theirs, and artifacts from that time are as common as rocks.” She picked up a loose stone lying on the ground, tilting it toward him with a wry smile. A chunk of raw quartz glinted at him from its center.

“But in spite of that, we romanticize them, because they still remain a mystery to us. About two thousand years ago, they simply appeared in the records of other civilizations, already powerful, and rapidly expanding. Then, a little over a thousand years ago, they vanished just as suddenly. During their nine hundred years of existence, they changed everything about this part of the world, from its monetary system, to its laws, to the very language we all speak. Before them, there were a hundred independent principalities, kingdoms, empires, chiefdoms, and states. They swept over them all, absorbed them, took the best of them, and threw away the rest.”

She picked up several more rocks, of varying sizes, and shook them together, rolling them out like the bone dice warriors often played with in the evenings. “When they were done, the continent was united. And then they were gone. Their empire fractured overnight.” Calling a little power into her palm, she slapped it down into the center of the scattered rocks, sending them spinning and skittering away.

“But where did they go?” She asked, turning over rock after rock, looking for the piece with the quartz. “No one knows. But, just maybe, they came here.” Reaching into her sleeve, she produced the original stone and held it out to him. “If you can help me prove that, help me find any trace of their civilization in a place no one believes they lived, I’ll give you anything within my power. I will protect you from Gaoda’s whims. I will keep you safe if we go into battle. I will even,” she looked at his pack again, “keep your secret, and, more importantly, help you keep it. Your dragon will need to eat, drink, and move around. When we go off to have one of these ‘lessons’, you can care for it, and after a few days, none of them will even question it.”

She tilted her head, and Kaz realized she was done. He needed to reply, and he didn’t know what to do. He obviously couldn’t convince her that she was wrong. It was also true that he needed to care for the hatchling or free it. It couldn’t stay inside his pack forever. Frankly, it was amazing the creature had been willing to stay still for as long as it had. And, as much as he hated to admit it, he needed an ally, and he couldn’t trust any of the others. Raff was friendly enough, but had a callous nature. Kaz doubted the man would hesitate if Gaoda told him to take Kaz’s head. Chi Yincang seemed to be Gaoda’s creature, and Gaoda was… Gaoda.

Gritting his teeth, he accepted the rock, folding his fingers around it so tightly that it dug into his skin painfully. “Yes,” he said. “I’ll help you in any way I can. I’ve explored far more of the mountain than any other kobold, even those in my tribe. I don’t know the Deep as well, but I may be able to help. There are things, places, that have been here since before memory began. I’ll show them to you.”

A brilliant smile spread across her face, and he thought her stare might burn a hole in the leather side of his pack. “And?” she prompted.

Reluctantly, he swung the pack around, cradling it in one arm as he worked at the leather strip tying it shut. The moment the knot released, a reptilian snout pushed through the opening, followed by spinning golden eyes. The hatchling stared up at him before letting out a demanding click and whistle.

“Shhh!” Kaz whispered, throwing the trio of males a panicked glance. It looked like the first janjio was done, and they were eating while Raff held the second one over the flame. They seemed thoroughly engrossed in their meal, and none of them even looked in Kaz’s direction, even though the dragon’s vocalization had sounded as loud as a howl to him.

“Chirp?” The dragon tilted its head to one side curiously.

“If you’re found, you’ll probably be killed,” Kaz told it, though there was no way it could understand.

“No ‘probably’ about it,” Lianhua murmured. He looked at her, and found her gaze locked on the dragon, expression awestruck.

He reached in and grabbed the hatchling’s long, slim body, gently taking it from the pack. It immediately stretched its little wings, then wound around his arm and up his shoulder before he could react, ending up perched on his shoulder, staring at the human.

“This is Lianhua,” he told it. “She’s a friend. Lianhua, this is-” he broke off, realizing that he’d never even considered naming the little creature.

Lianhua held out her hand, palm up, fingers flat. The dragon stretched out, taking a sniff. Its forked tongue darted out, tasting the offered digits. Just in time, he noticed its mouth opening a little too wide, and leaned back so the sharp teeth closed on air.

“No!” he yipped at it. “No biting friends!”

Lianhua had snatched her fingers back, staring at them, and now began to giggle. “Oh,” she gasped. “Oh my goodness!”

He reached up and prodded his nose, which was stinging again now that he was thinking about it. “What’s so funny? It’s small, but its bite is painful.”

Reaching up, Lianhua wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “You sounded just like me when I was training Gao.”

“Gao?” He looked back at the group of males, seeing Gaoda wiping greasy fingers on a piece of cloth that would have been a family heirloom if it belonged to a kobold.

She shook her head. “Not Gaoda. Gao. He’s my dog.”

Kaz frowned. “What’s a dog?”

Lianhua opened her mouth to answer, but hesitated, her cheeks growing pink. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I don’t want to insult you, but… Dogs are animals that look quite a lot like kobolds. They run on four paws, rather than walking on two paws, with hands above. Humans often keep them as pets.”

This was another unfamiliar word. “Pet?”

She nodded enthusiastically. “Pets are animals kept for companionship, though sometimes they have jobs, too. Gao isn’t a working dog, though.” Her hands made motions like she was stroking something that rested in her lap. “He’s little, and barks a lot, but whenever I’m sad, I can hold him and it makes me feel better.”

Now Kaz nodded. “Sometimes a pup will find a baby fuergar and keep it until the den mother finds it, or it runs away. The pup is often bitten, and quickly learns that beasts are not meant to live among us.”

Lianhua wrinkled her nose. “That.. makes sense. Dogs like being with us. They’re smart, and loyal, and loving, and-” She broke off, her face growing pink again.

Kaz tilted his head, thinking about the way she had stroked his fur earlier. “If kobolds look like dogs, do I remind you of this Gao?”

She groaned and hid her face in her hands. “No! Of course not!” Peeking out between her fingers, she grimaced. “But also yes. Maybe. A little.”

Kaz’s tail wagged in amusement. “It’s all right. This Gao is your friend, and maybe if I look like him, that helped you decide to trust me.”

Lowering her hands, Lianhua smiled. “It did.”

“Then it’s a good thing.” That decided, Kaz reached up to pat the dragon’s head. The reptile, who had been listening to their conversation intently, allowed the gesture, then opened its mouth wide.

“You’re hungry?” Kaz asked, astonished. “What happened to the janjio I put in there?” He pulled the forgotten pack toward him, reaching deep inside. His fingers touched something warm and squishy, and he grimaced, pulling it out. It was a hunk of the short, fine fur that covered the janjio’s body, and seemed to be all that was left of the one he’d shoved into his pack earlier. He shook it from his fingers, and as he did, the not-rock came loose from where it had been hidden inside the mess, and tumbled to the ground.

Lianhua poked at it with a delicate finger. “A seed?” she asked. Her forehead fur pulled down. “It has an aura of its own, though.”

Kaz forced himself to move slowly as he picked it up and dropped it back into the pack, ignoring its fresh coating of sticky dust. He shrugged. “I don’t know. It was in the dragon nest, and I picked it up with the egg. It was larger then. The dragon ate part of it after it hatched.” He cast the hatchling a chastising glance, which it ignored.

Lianhua looked like she wanted to ask to see it again, but just then, they heard Raff call out, “Oi! Lianhua! Blue! Lunch is ready.”

Both of their heads snapped around to stare down the tunnel. Raff was standing far too close to them, holding a slightly overcooked janjio, still spitted on his sword. The stalagmites should hide most of Kaz from the warrior’s view, but his hands shot up, attempting to hide the dragon anyway.

Lianhua stood up, brushing herself off even as she offered Raff a bright smile. “Oh, good,” she said. “I thought my stomach was going to start cycling ki, it was churning so much.”

She stepped around the stalagmites, not even glancing back at Kaz, and made her way up the tunnel, setting her hand on Raff’s arm to pull him along when she got close enough.

When only Kaz and the dragon were left, he reached up and pulled it from his shoulder. It didn’t want to come, its claws digging painfully into the skin beneath his fur. When he finally had it in his hands, he held it up and looked in its eyes while it flailed for some kind of footing. The black and white seemed more noticeable than it had when the creature was calm.

“Li,” he said. “The sound a pup makes when it gets nipped. That’s as good a name for you as any. Li, you have to go back in the pack. I’ll put food in, and next time we stop, Lianhua will get us away again, so you can come out. Be patient a little while longer.”

Li’s tongue flicked out, and the dragon hissed, but it was more resigned than angry. When Kaz held it out toward his pack, the hatchling crawled in, though its reluctance was clear in its body language, as well as the series of hisses and clicks it muttered under its breath.

Kaz climbed to his feet and slung his pack onto his back, feeling the dragon moving around as it tried to find a comfortable spot. When it stilled, he started to move away, but the bright white rune drawn on the ground caught his eyes. He stared at it, emblazoning each graceful stroke in his memory, before reaching out with a paw and scuffing it out into an illegible blur.