Page 50 of Reign of the Talon
So—for as long as they listen to him—he will continue to urge his troops to leave the Prophecy to him, that their first goal is her capture. Time. Precious time. He will try to harvest it as a farmer does grain.
Rui wants, more than anything, to make Gameunjang’s decree known publicly. Yet she has urged him to remain silent. He does not understand why, but she seems to have allied herself with him—and Rui believes that disobeying her orders would not bode well.
One way.Oneway to stop this damned Prophecy in a multitude of possibilities. And this is it.
A squadron has been prepared to initiate Chan’s retrieval, warriors handpicked by Rui himself. They are not to engage with the Prophecy if they can help it; Chan remains priority. He spends more than an hour with them, describing the Imugi he saw Chan bound upon. Not one of the largest serpents, yet not an insignificant beast. They will mobilize when the army is in sight of the Beast Wall, just as the forces on the western edge prepare for the impact of the sea forces.
Sea forces, which Rui has every intention of stopping. He is not so cocky as to think that he is able to prevent the serpents from reaching the Beast Wall—the skirmishes on Habaek’s River proved that in their natural element of water, the Imugi are near to unstoppable. The most he has been able to do is ensure that his soldiers have the fireswords and scale-plated armor when possible.
Exhausted, Rui ducks into the Sanyeongto tearoom, where he has agreed to meet Kang to briefly go over the same plot for Chan’s extraction that he has just spent an hour discussing with the squadron. Kang is sitting upon a fine silk cushion before a small, low table, and the advisor dips his head into a respectful bow as Rui takes the cushion on the opposite side. Kang looks worse for wear, he notes. The skin around his bloodshot eyes is pinched tight; his hair is greasy, unwashed. Rui’s lips thin.
The air smells of gyepi-cha, the cinnamon tea his advisor knows he is fond of. Rui inhales deeply, attempting to let the sweetly spiced fragrance wash over him and calm his nerves.
It does not.
Rui sighs, suddenly wearier than he ever has been as Kang pours the tea into a small earthen teacup for him. His advisor must be exhausted as well, for his hands are shaking around the ceramic teapot. He watches as the steaming liquid is poured into the cup, and inhales again. Just to be sure. The sweetness is almost cloying. Kang must have doused it with nectar from the Khana tree.
“The gods left,” Rui says quietly. “They’ll be back. But I’m sure you know that.”
Silently, Kang returns the teapot to its spot on the table and nods. Rui wonders what the cause is for his sudden reticence as he circles a finger around the rim of his teacup, allowing the steam to swirl around his face. “I’ve chosen Lee Joonghoo, Cho Minjun, and Kim Miyoung to extract Chan,” he adds, slowly picking up the teacup.
“All wise choices.” Kang is watching the emperor intently.
Rui knows that his own eyes flicker, but only infinitesimally. Kang does not notice. Rui continues speaking, softly, slowly. “Lee Joonghoo is skilled at reconnaissance. He was integral to the defeat of the Revolution. Cho Minjun is fast, and even more so now that he has taken the steroid. Kim Miyoung, she is a deft hand at distraction. We possess a good chance of obtaining our Supreme Commander.”
“And I am glad to hear it. Chan’s retrieval is important.” Kang stares as Rui draws the cup closer to his lips. “Extraction regiments must be subtle.”
Rui laughs coldly, meeting his advisor’s eyes as he sets down the poisonous brew and leans closer, lips curled. “And so must a good poison.”
Kang blanches, color draining from his face. Rui’s laugh is as dark as a nighttime wind as it rips from him, cold and hollow. He had not killed Kang, that night after Eunbi’s death. And this…thisis how he is repaid? It is a thorned barb lodged in his heart. Yet he will not betray this to his would-be assassin.
“Oh, Kang,” he purrs instead, shaking his head. “For all your years studying in the Wyusan Wilderness, I thought you much cleverer than this. A pity, then, that I am so sorely disappointed.” With an elegant finger, Rui pushes the teacup over to Kang’s side of the table. Some of the brown liquid sloshes over the brim. “Go on,” he dares. “Prove me wrong, old friend. Take a sip.” Rui cocks his head and watches as Kang’s mouth twitches, as those strange, wisdom-filled eyes flicker with…
Regret one moment, and determination the next.
Rui is on his feet before Kang is, dodging the hidden weapon the other Dokkaebi has drawn from the sleeve of his simple robes. It flies through the air, looping around the spot where Rui’s neck had been only moments ago—a rope, studded with gleaming blades, designed to behead. After a moment suspended in the air, it clatters to the floor, and Rui laughs, entirely unamused.
“Delightful.”Five columns of Dokkaebi fire erupt from the tearoom floor. With a single thought, they split into ten. Dramatic, perhaps, but Rui is nothing if not a fan of theatrics. “Really, Kang,” he says, bathed in that flickering blue light, “I’m offended. I, at least, had the common decency to refrain from brutally murdering you, in respect for what our friendship once was. You, on the other hand…” He nudges the bladed rope with a boot. “Well. A little hasty, I might say. And poison, at that. I’ve always said it is a coward’s tool. I am once again proven correct.”
“This war will destroy all of us,” Kang fires back, clutching his staff tightly. “Every kingdom will fall. Yong will create a new age of death and horror. We have a way to end it. And yet you, Rui, are so selfish.”
“Selfish?” Rui sneers. “You ask me to kill my soul-stitched.”
“For the last time,” Kang replies, voice rising, “you are soul-stitched inhatred.”
“Ah. But therein lies what you do not know.” Rui’s hand trembles as he raises it, sending a column of fire leaping into the air and swirling around the top of Kang’s head…not yet touching the dark auburn hairs, but coming close. “We are both, I think. I am soul-stitched to the Prophecy in hatred, and soul-stitched to Lina in love. They are two separate beings. Which is why, Jeong Kang, I will not kill her body.” He smiles, and he knows it is not pleasant.
“The gods will not be pleased to hear of this folly,” Kang hisses back. “Nor of your intervention with the Bulgae. What do you think they will do then, Rui? Do you think Dalnim will still refuse to raise a hand to her descendant?”
Rui wills his expression to become very, very calm. And very, very cold. Even as he is filled with a terrible sense of loss and utter wretchedness.
It is true that this war has broken them.
Yet it is also true that he will do everything in his power to save the girl he loves from a dishonorable death. His soul-stitched. Hiswife. And for whatever cosmic reason, Gameunjang herself stands beside him, supports him in this quest. He will not forget that.
It would be far easier had Gameunjang not warned him to remain silent regarding her allyship. Fate herself is on his side. And yet he can tell nobody, lest he is shoved from the path he must follow.
“Do this, and within this immeasurable darkness, you will find…light.”
