Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

Failure. The word was uncomfortable for Kazi to even think, having had so very few encounters with it. But there it was. Yuta was gone, and the girl with him. He and five of the other Lords had arrived only minutes too late, it seemed.

Indeed, it was a failure. In the back of his mind, however, he had hope. Kazi knew that Yuta would return, and more-over, he knew that once he did, he would have him in total submission. Not only would Yuta return to find a bounty on his head, hunted by every Dragon in Eastern Asia, but he would also find himself without a Messenger.

It was cruel, he knew, and Kazi would not have dared to touch another Dragon’s Messenger had he not been absolutely certain that Yuta was responsible for the recent death of a civilian Messenger. It was simply justice. Kazi hadn’t yet decided whether or not he would actually kill the Turtle. He would at least have to keep him alive until Yuta was safely in custody, in order to lure him to them for negotiations; however, the Turtle was powerful, and keeping both he and Yuta alive was more likely to be perceived as a mark of folly rather than mercy by the other Lords. As long as the two of them were able to operate together, they would always be a threat, and now he had given Yuta a reason to show open hostility.

The door to Kazi’s chamber burst open. “Kazi, come quick!” shouted Misaki. She was in her Dragon Form. Her coal-black scales rippled with anger and excitement. She was admittedly a handsome Dragon, more cat than reptile.

Kazi’s response was immediate. Like two giant panthers, the two raced down the short hallway to the large double-doors leading into the Grand Hall. The doors burst open before them revealing the brightly lit hall and the other seven Lords all in their Dragon Forms, pacing shortly and growling uncomfortably like excited dogs. When they heard the doors slam and saw Kazi and Misaki standing in the threshold, they grew suddenly still. Kazi first looked around at each of them, none of them willing to meet his gaze. Then, out of his peripherals, he caught sight of the cause of their unrest.

At first he was completely unaware that Yuta was present at all. As soon as the little blonde girl in the white kimono looked at him with her piercing blue eyes, it was as though the world had stopped spinning. Everything went silent. He stopped breathing. The only thing he could hear or feel was the blood rushing to his head, his pulse throbbing aggressively in his ears. “Sakura,” he whispered to himself.

Kazi could feel himself slowly melting back into his human Form, and yet he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He felt one of the Lords throw a long length of cloth over his shoulders to hide his nakedness, but his mind was elsewhere. Could it be that she was alive? That she had returned to him at last? He wasn’t even able to feel anger for her having left him, not that she was here, now. It was as though those years had never been, as though he’d never been abandoned, as though his heart had never been broken.

Suddenly, Yuta spoke and addressed the room, “This is Andria.” Kazi momentarily snapped out of his trance and finally became aware that Yuta, the vane of his existence, was in the room, standing just two feet from his beloved Sakura.

“Seize him!” Kazi roared.

“Wait!” Yuta shouted back, as the Lords were beginning to stir to put him in custody. Again, “Wait!” he shouted, his voice piercing the air in the room like a knife. “I want to negotiate!”

Despite the sense of rage and vengeance burning within him, Kazi threw up an impatient hand, a signal for the Lords to abstain.

Once the room had grown still again, and Yuta was certain that the attention of the whole room was upon him, he continued. “I have brought you Andria, the sole living heir of Sakura.”

The statement hit Kazi like a slap in the face. It was a lie! There she was! There was Sakura in all of her perfection and fiery grace.

Not waiting for any response, he went on. “You can see, now that she is before you, that she is not Sakura. Sakura is dead.” From beside him, Andria recoiled slightly at the blunt proclamation.

“Lies!” Kazi spat venomously. Yuta ignored him.

“She is nothing more than a girl, yet has been victimized and terrified by this council for over a month.  Her absence has caused her family tremendous grief and cost this country unfathomable negative publicity since her disappearance. My plea to you is this, arrest me if you must, but send this girl back to her family and let that be the end of it.”

Again, the room fell silent. Kazi looked from Yuta, to the girl beside him. Was it true? Kazi, now human, hesitantly took a few steps down the staircase leading to the appeal floor, where the two stood. The rest of the Lords were poised in their Dragon Forms behind him, ready to pounce with just one nod from Kazi. Kazi kept his eyes locked on Andria’s, slowly closing the gap between them. The closer he came, the more his heart fell, the more his dreams unraveled and the scars on his heart reopened. The resemblance was unmistakable. She was the spitting image of Sakura, but something was wrong. Something was missing, or added. He couldn’t decide which. Something about the way she held herself, something about her aura betrayed her for an imposter. And he couldn’t hear her thoughts. If she were truly his Mate, he would hear her. Yet, clearly, she wasn’t.

Kazi tore his gaze from the strange, silent girl to Yuta. “Who is this?” he whispered threateningly.

“Andria,” Yuta repeated. “Sakura’s daughter.”

Again, he looked at her like a marvelous but puzzling piece of artwork, whose image was ultimately beautiful, unexpected, but who had a deeper message far beneath the surface.

“How do you know this?” he spat, mere feet from Yuta’s face.

“Because she has her gifts,” Yuta began. “And she confirmed it herself.”

“Explain,” Kazi demanded.

Yuta gave Kazi an abbreviated version of their encounter with Sakura in the past. At the end of the telling, Kazi was stunned silent. Still, Andria said nothing, obedient to her instructions. “They will question you,” Yuta had warned her once they were both on a train to Yokohama, “but remain quiet as long as you can and let me do the explaining and negotiating. No matter what happens, say nothing, do nothing unless they tell you to.”

Kazi looked at Andria, mesmerized with disbelief. He reached out a careful hand to cup Andria’s face beneath the chin. Gently, he forced her face up to better examine it. After a moment, he whispered to Andria, “Can you show me?”

Andria pursed her lips together and shook her head.

“She’s young,” Yuta offered. “She doesn’t yet have full control of her gifts, but they’re there.”

“Where is the Stone?” Kazi demanded of Yuta, still staring intently at Andria.

Aware of the threatening eyes all around him, Yuta withdrew it from within his kimono, where he had quickly tucked it once they had reached Fuji. Kazi held out a hand, and Yuta obediently offered up the Stone. Once it was in his grasp, Kazi quickly looked it over to ensure that it was the true relic, and then hid it away in his own robes.

The hall was silent. The other eight Lords all waited anxiously for a reaction from Kazi, most of them ready to leap at Yuta with the smallest gesture from Kazi. Kazi himself was quickly trying to come up with a course of action. Yuta, the fool, had essentially offered himself up on a silver platter. He wouldn’t be leaving. No. The girl, Andria, however, was a different matter altogether.

After several tense moments of careful calculation, Kazi broke the silence. He turned his back to them both and began making his way back to the double doors, arms crossed thoughtfully behind his back. Kazi ordered in a resonating, decisive voice, “Yuta Odashima is to be taken into custody and questioned for the death of Yuki the Messenger. “ The result was instantaneous. Three Dragons from the council leapt into action and were across the hall, pinning Yuta to the ground amidst snarls and snares within a second. Andria yelped with surprise, but said nothing. She knew this would happen.

“Andria,” Kazi continued coyly, “will be taken into custody and questioned to determine the extent of her knowledge about the Race, and whether she is a liability.”

“Nooo!” Yuta yelled, struggling against the claws that held him. For the first time since they had arrived, Andria allowed herself to look frightened.

“If,” Kazi interjected, “Andria can prove that she is worthy of our trust and that she can keep our secrets, she will be promptly released under an oath of silence and allowed to return to her family.” The lies were unsavory on Kazi’s lips, but they were perhaps the only thing he could say to calm Yuta’s rage long enough to get him into a secure containment unit, one that wouldn’t crumble with a wave of his hand. Already, Kazi could see Yuta relaxing slightly, again submitting to the larger Dragons that had him held.

“Do you swear,” began Yuta, panting to shout against the weight that was upon him, “that you will let her go?”

“If she proves herself trustworthy,” Kazi stated rationally, “she can go.”

Andria had moved several feet away, to allow the Lords room as they kept Yuta pinned to the floor. For a moment, Yuta caught her gaze. There was pleading in her eyes, but also something more. Something mournful, compassionate, regretful. For all Andria knew, this was the last they would see each other. For all she knew, this was the last time they would be on the same continent.

Yuta knew better.

Andria tore her eyes away from Yuta to stare intently at Kazi. All fear was gone.

Kazi nodded to a slender, black Dragon close by, who returned the nod knowingly before rounding on Andria. Misaki did not attack Andria as Yuta had been attacked by the others, but stalked towards her menacingly, as though Andria were prey contemplating an attempt at escape. “Don’t make this hard,” the Dragon hissed, once she was within earshot, “and we won’t have any problems.”  As she spoke, she made an effort of showing off as many of her sharp, pointed teeth as possible, as if to gently remind Andria that they were there, ready to snap off limbs at the slightest resistance. Andria took the hint and said nothing in return.

There was a slam of doors and Kazi was gone. One of the Dragons poised near Yuta’s feet locked his fangs around an ankle and lifted Yuta several feet off the ground. Yuta said nothing and offered no resistance. Andria watched helplessly as Yuta was carried like a dead rabbit across the Grand Hall and through a side door.

She felt a forceful nudge against her back and was forced to take a couple clumsy steps forward. Misaki used her long, powerful tail to guide her towards the door. Andria heard a low growl escape the black Dragon, and took this to be her only warning. Silently, obediently, Andria followed Misaki out of the quickly emptying Grand Hall.

 

Andria lay on the bed, eyes wide, searching the craggy stone ceiling for answers, for peace, for escape from who she was, what she was.

The room was spacious, luxurious, even. Following the customs of Western excess and grandeur, several pieces of ornate furniture were scattered about the chamber: armchairs, dressers, a vanity table and mirror, writing desk, a couple sofas adorned with silk throw-pillows, and of course, the bed. She spent several long moments absently pondering the large, embellished fireplace across the room, in which a warm inviting fire was already lazily lapping at a couple large wooden logs.

Andria rolled over on the bed, still clothed in her kimono, at least partially. In a fit of emotion, immediately after having been deposited in this grand room and left quite alone, she had begun tearing at the restraints around her waist. One by one, she clawed away at the decorative straps until both oobi and two of the three cords lay defeated at her feet. She had kicked them for good measure. Another she had loosened, but otherwise left tied to keep the whole of her garment from flapping open in an unsavory manner.

She heard the lock in the large double doors turn. An image of Yuta flashed through her mind, and immediately, she was on her feet. Her face and spirits fell, however, when the doors opened, and in walked, not Yuta, but Kazi. His robes were the same black robes of state he had been wearing earlier in the Grand Hall, but his posture had been altered. He appeared weaker, she thought. Remembering that it was he who had ordered the detainment of Yuta, her eyes swam with rage, the blue of her irises darkening with unmistakable loathing.

Kazi, however, was looking at her much in the same way he had for that brief moment before, with admiration and wonder. His face was that of a man who had wandered through a desert and found, at last, an oasis. Or an alien. No one had ever looked at her in quite that manner. She felt as though at any moment, she would be swallowed up by his lingering gaze.

At last, Kazi cleared his throat and wiped a nervous hand over his bald temple. Then, motioning slightly towards the door with a grimace of polite embarrassment, he offered, “Pardon the intrusion.”

Andria glowered.

Kazi continued, regaining his air of regal confidence. “I understand that Yuta has a,” he paused, searching for an appropriate word, “negative opinion of me, and you, no doubt, being in his confidence, have probably adopted his misguided sense of resentment.”

“Release him,” Andria hissed.

Kazi looked at her. A flash of longing crossed his eyes, but was quickly replaced by a deep, penetrating sadness. “My god. You even sound like her,” he whispered to himself. He turned away, running a hand over his shiny head. A nervous habit, Andria deduced.

His back to Andria, still, he crossed his arms behind him and answered, “My hands are tied in the case of Yuta Odashima. He has committed many crimes in his lifetime and walked free.” Andria was unable to see the expression of pure, bitter loathing and regret on Kazi’s face as he spoke of his sworn enemy. “Now, however,” he continued, “not only has he kidnapped a human girl, but he is also the primary suspect in the murder of a Messenger and forty six separate counts of homicide.”

Andria recalled the image on the news, of bodies being dragged from the ocean, the torn metal hull of a ship sinking slowly below the waves. She didn’t want to believe it, but there it was. He hadn’t denied it. Still, part of her was incapable of truly accepting that Yuta, who had saved her, a stranger, from drowning, could murder an entire ship full of men in cold blood.

Andria did, however, address the first claim. “I wasn’t kidnapped,” she asserted. “I was saved from a monster and then given a safe place to hide.”

Kazi waved his hand impatiently, as though this was completely irrelevant. Andria scowled and insisted, “I’m not going to testify. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Luckily,” Kazi replied, “we don’t require your testimony to press charges. He is guilty of jeopardizing the secrecy and security of the Race by drawing the attention of the press to his actions and harboring a missing human.”

“But I’m not human,” Andria argued, finding the words awkward and unfamiliar on her lips.

Kazi waved his hand once more. Again, irrelevant. “Unfortunately,” Kazi explained, turning to face her, “if what Yuta claims is true, you now belong to two civilizations, both human and Dragon. Your human ties make you a liability for as long as you remain missing.”

“So let me go,” Andria reasoned, unsure if that was what she really wanted at that point. Her father’s face swam before her eyes, and she couldn’t help but feel shame for her mixed emotions while her family worried and waited for news.

Kazi fell silent for a moment, looking around the room, again rubbing his temple. “Is this room to your liking?” he asked, as though they were enjoying a pleasant conversation over mid-day tea.

Andria scoffed and collapsed onto the bed, frustrated with the lack of progress the conversation was producing. Still, she clung to the belief that she could trust Yuta’s reassurances. All she had to do was convince this one man of her ability to keep a secret, and she would be free. Even as she thought this, however, her stomach was knotting.

“Andria,” Kazi said levelly, “I’m not the bad guy, here.”

“Who is then?” Andria snapped at him. “Yuta, right?”

“So the evidence suggests.” His voice was calm, definitive. Andria didn’t like it. “I understand,” he continued, “how you may feel a strong sense of gratitude, loyalty perhaps, maybe even affection for the man who saved you, but you need to realize that Yuta Odashima is a killer. I have no doubts that he would not have bothered to save you had he not known, or at least guessed at your identity. He was using you.”

“For what?” Her voice was flat, her throat dry.

“To get to me.” The accusation felt childish on his lips, painfully immature, but such were the ways of his nemesis.

Andria didn’t press further. She already knew how and why this was most likely true. But that didn’t explain everything.

“Why would Yuta want to hurt you?” she pressed. It was the big question, the one she’d never asked and no one had ever answered. It was the question whose answer she didn’t want to know. Until then. “What’s his motive? What did you do to make him hate you?”

Kazi did not fail to notice the accusation. He sighed, paced for a moment, deep in thought. All the while, Andria sat on the bed, eyeing him with a critical gaze. After a moment, he seated himself in an armchair, looked at Andria levelly, and gestured towards a chair across from him.

Andria wasn’t fully aware of what made her do it, but she obeyed. Without a word

, she stood up, pulled her kimono a little tighter across her torso, and crossed the room to sit opposite Kazi. The chair was surprisingly comfortable, but far too big for her small frame. She felt ridiculously dwarfed, and she wasn’t sure if it was the chair that made her feel this way, or the regal, confident man sitting across from her.

“If what Yuta Odashima claims about you is true,” Kazi began, eyeing her like a rare species of bird, “then you and I have many things to discuss.” The statement hung in the air like a grand piano positioned just over Andria’s head, which had the potential to either crush her where she sat, or lower harmlessly and begin to create beautiful, soothing melodies. “Regrettably,” Kazi said. Andria’s heart sank slightly. ‘Regrettably’ was seldom a word used to introduce good news. “Regrettably, there can be only one option as to what is to happen next. If Sakura is indeed your biological mother, this makes you both part Dragon, in desperate need of proper training. It also makes you the heir to her legacy and my position, which also requires a significant amount of additional training.” His voice lowered towards the end, as though he were apologizing for what he was saying without actually apologizing.

Andria was surprised to find herself not surprised at all. Part of her had been expecting this. “What about my family?” she asked.

“That,” Kazi responded, clearing his throat and leaning forward slightly, “I will leave to your decision. We can choose not to act, to say nothing and let the search continue for,” he paused in contemplation, “however long the authorities feel like searching.”

Andria shook her head, her mouth furrowed in a deep frown as she stared at the coffee table with expressionless eyes. If the search never ended, her father and step mother would keep worrying, keep persisting, and would never be able to find peace until she returned, if she were ever able to return at all.

“How long,” Andria asked Kazi, “will I be required to stay here and,” she paused, “train?”

Kazi sighed heavily. “I am sorry, but it will take a very long time. Indefinitely, we’ll say.”

Again, Andria felt very little emotion one way or the other as she nodded in acknowledgment. “What are the other options?” she asked quietly, running a hand through her long, blonde hair.

Again, Kazi cleared his throat. “The other option,” he made sure to emphasize the singularity of this word, to make clear that this was the last of two distinct options, “is to end the search. Give them a reason, solid evidence, to suggest that you have…”

“Died,” Andria finished for him. “Make them believe I’ve died.” A lump caught in her throat. How could she even consider it? How could she dare put her parents through such terrible pain, deprive them of hope while she still lived? Then again, who was to say they hadn’t already given up? It had been a month. No, no parent would have given their child up for dead so soon without undisputable evidence. And what was the purpose of giving them hope? There was no hope, according to Kazi, of her ever returning to them. “What if I wrote them a letter? I can tell them that I’m safe, that they don’t need to worry, and…” Andria’s voice trailed off.

“And what?” Kazi asked simply. He tried to appear as consoling and understanding as possible as he continued, “Andria, you must understand that your parents are parents. No matter what you tell them, they will never stop searching.” He whispered the last three words forcefully, ominously. “Unless a body is found, they will continue to hope and to search, and they will never give up, and they will never start grieving, and they will never recover.” Andria listened in silence, drinking in his words, letting them penetrate to her very core. “The real pain,” he added remorsefully, “isn’t in grieving. It’s in not knowing.”