But the hazy memories of a six-year-old were no match for the sensations of a young woman standing before the homeland she had been taken from. As though in a dream, the trees parted, jagged Kemeiran pines bowing out to the sight of the Northern Capital.
And what a sight that was. As far as the eye could see was a gleaming expanse of gray-shingled roofs, flowing from one to the next like the scales of a mystical dragon. Red lanterns lent bursts of color where they hung from rooftops, bobbing in thebreeze. Golden larches were interspersed throughout jagged street corners.
The government palace stood at the very north like the head of the city, but rising at the city’s center like its great, beating heart was the Temple of the Skies. The old legends said that the gods themselves had requested the first Kemeiran disciple to create it, before they ascended back to the skies. It pierced skyward in layers of gray roofing that spiraled upward in concentric circles.
Linn knew from memory, from reading about this temple for so long, that the grounds around it had been penned off in a square courtyard where the Temple Masters came out to pray and conduct their governing sessions with the people. And, adjoined to the structure, she knew, was the Bei’kin Bookhouse.
“It’s beautiful,” she heard Kaïs say, his voice pulling her mind back to the present. They stood at the edge of the forest, muddy and hungry and tired.
“It is more,” Linn said. “It feels as though this land holds a thread to every Kemeiran’s soul. And when I am far, it tugs at me insistently. It called me to return, for years.”
Yet it was a peace that felt ephemeral. As Linn took in the sight of the capital city, she couldn’t help but think of Gen, of the Temple Masters that had died at the hands of Cyrilian Imperial Patrols.
Her heart squeezed painfully as she watched the hustle and bustle of the familiar streets, the colorful tarps propped up and donkey-drawn carts squeaking down the roads. Bei’kin—and the entirety of Kemeira—was in danger, and nobody knew yet.
By her side, Kaïs tilted his head. The sun was just beginning to rise, threading the sky that had turned a tapestry of pinks and corals and violets.
Hope bloomed inside her as light washed over her face.
They had made it. Against all odds, they had arrived. And they were here to bring Gen’s message to the Temple Masters.
“Is there someplace we can get food and drink?” Kaïs asked.
Linn licked her chapped lips. Her tongue felt like sandpaper. Kaïs was right—they needed sustenance.
And they had arrived just in time for that.
It was dawn, which meant the Sunrise Market was beginning to open. A dirt road appeared beneath their feet, turning into cobblestones, as though the city itself were rolling out a red carpet for them. Scattered clay cottages turned into neatly lined rows of houses across paved roads, and a passerby here and there turned into a steady stream of people filing out of their doors to begin their days. People, dressed in the same wheat-colored robes, swept their front steps with straw brooms, dusted off the heads of stone lion statues in front of their homes.
Several paused to stare at Kaïs, who stood a full head taller than the average Kemeiran. Most foreigners here were traders, and the Jade Trail connected Kemeira—and kingdoms of the Aseatic Isles—to many other lands across the seas: Bregon, the Crown of Nandji, the Crown of Kusutri, and many others beyond that.
All but Cyrilia, “the Other Empire,” as it was known here. The one with which Kemeira had been in a state of inactive, cold war for decades, foreign relations frozen and trade embargoed.
Linn and Kaïs purchased food—meat buns and sweet bean soup—with the Bregonian gold that King Darias had given them. Linn sighed as she bit into her first pork bun.
Kaïs chuckled and handed her the waterskin they’d bought. “I have never seen such an animated reaction from you,” hecommented. Then he took a bite out of his own bun and made a deep, satisfied sound before popping the rest of it in his mouth. “Though I understand it. I could stay in Kemeira forever, for the food.” There was a playful glint to his gaze that made Linn feel warm and golden as honey inside.
They finished their food in several bites, and then Linn asked for directions to the Temple of the Skies.
“The Temple of the Skies?” repeated the meat bun vendor, an old woman with gaps between her teeth that showed when she smiled. “Well, it’s just down the Main Road, nine streets away. But it’s closed to the public at this time.”
“When will it open?” asked Linn.
“Not until noon,” the vendor replied, flipping four sizzling dumplings over.
“Noon?” Linn echoed, distraught. She glanced at Kaïs, who was eyeing those dumplings. “That’s…”Too late.Morganya’s forces might be here long before then.
The meat bun seller grinned. “Not from this province, are you, girl? You’re welcome to take a seat here and wait. My red bean soup’s the best on this street and piping hot for a cold day such as this one.”
Linn was about to respond when something caught her eye. In the midst of the crowd on the main road was a flash of pale skin, gold hair.
Linn grabbed Kaïs’s arm. His expression darkened as he followed her gaze. “Cyrilians,” he muttered. “Dressed in plain clothes.” His jaw clenched. “Imperial Patrols—I recognize several. These are not the same ones we encountered. This is a full unit.”
Linn’s hands brushed her knives. A small wind tousled her hair, bringing with it the whispers of Gen’s parting words. “We must get to the Temple of the Skies,” she said quietly. “We must warn the Temple Masters.” Quickly, she relayed the conversation between her and the meat bun seller.
Kaïs’s brows stitched together. “Even if we reach it before they do, how will we get inside if it is closed to the public?”
Linn reached to her collar and drew out the small wooden token that had rested by her heart for the entirety of their journey. It swung slightly in the wind, but it might have borne the weight of empires. “This belonged to Gen shi’sen. I believe it will hold some sway with the other Temple Masters.” She turned and pointed. “We are only nine streets away from the Temple of the Skies. But if we try to pass by the Imperial Patrols on the same road, they will see us. They will seeyou.”
