More than once, Khalem gagged, retching off to the side of the worn path. With nothing to do—and nothing more to say—Isao let his mind wander, back to his lessons with Master Mou. Back when the imperial palace was safe. Back when his sole job was to learn.
Havin, the Ular capital, is surrounded by a bamboo forest, Master Mou had once told him, using a stick to point to the Havin nation on a globe. It's called the Gempu Forest. Rumors say it's cursed.
Isao had snorted. Everyone spreads rumors that everything is cursed.
It's not the curses you want to avoid, Master Mou had said with a grim expression. It's the wrathful spirits that they bring. Never go there if you can avoid it.
Isao swallowed a bitter rise of fear.
"I know what you are thinking, my young Sheng," Khalem said, panting just in front of him.
"Oh?"
"You are thinking about the curse on this land."
Isao snorted. "You are too wise by half."
"Rumors are rumors. Do not fear the lies that others have spread."
"The ambiance isn't one to brag about," Ranbelt said, his nose wrinkling. "Leaves something to be desired, if you ask me. I think it's cursed. Smells foul. All these bugs. Nothing has blessed this land."
"The Ular," Khalem muttered, the words hissing through his teeth when he grimaced. "I've been here before, a long time ago. I visited the Palace of Sarpa with the Sheng."
"Really?"
"A diplomatic meeting, I think." His brow furrowed. "There's something there . . . I didn't . . . It was not a good place, not a good place at all. Everyone avoids this place. All the clans, and even the fierce Horalus. They think the Palace of Sarpa is too…mysterious."
"Enchanted, you mean?" Isao asked.
"Strange origins," he said, shaking his head. Khalem stopped to take in a couple breaths of air. "Maybe enchanted; who knows? I've heard that there are secret passages and holes in the wall for them to spy on guests, and more passages that connect out into the city and outside the city."
Isao snorted. "You're too suspicious."
"I'm not the suspicious one," he mumbled. "They are. You’ll see. They are the ones carrying around suspicions. Fearing cats and all that."
"Cats?" Celty asked.
"Any feline. They hate them. Think they're possessed by the vengeful spirits of witches."
Ranbelt tipped his head back and laughed. "Vengeful spirits of witches. Of course. Poor animals don't stand a chance."
Isao recalled with sharp clarity the time when he had played with his friend Kamon in the imperial palace's dungeons. Amidst all the stink, littered hay, and moan of the prisoners, a cat had skittered across the prison floor. Kamon had yelled in surprise, widened his eyes.
"Cursed thing! Get away from me, vile witch. You cannot fool me. I know what you are."
It had been the only time Isao had seen Kamon so. Kamon had even tried to attack the cat, but Isao had held him back: Without the cats, the mice would overrun the palace.
Isao dismissed the memory; it didn't matter. Cats or not, Kamon and his family were the only ones who could really save them. The weight of the Empire rested on their shoulders.
"Well," Isao said, shifting uncomfortably, "let us hope that we find some respite in Havin, and be amongst friends so that we can bring justice back to the imperial palace."
Khalem mumbled something as they searched for a campsite. While settling in, and even close to sleep, they said no more.
The next morning they awoke early, traveled fast into the afternoon, and found themselves in the midst of a great bamboo forest.
The shoots of bamboo stood up like thin sentinels in a mist that covered them like a thick cloak. The mist gathered in Isao's hair, wetness trickling down his neck and hairline as the group moved along, blind to anything but the bamboo and the fog.
At the top of a hill, Isao stopped. A long gate, partially shrouded in mist, unfurled beneath them. Beyond it lay Havin and the Sarpa Palace. Next to it stood a towering structure – a temple, Isao imagined – with a shining white dome and violet banners ringing its sides.
At the very top of the Sarpa Palace, a sculpture of two entwined snakes with gold fangs spiraled up into the air.
"Strange," Khalem muttered, his face paling. "The place of the Ular is…disturbing."
"We are so close to rest and help," Isao said. He felt no such disquiet; all he could think of was sleep and food.
They continued forward, stumbling through the marsh. Soon, the soaring gates of Havin's wall towered in front of them.
The thick stone wall stood nearly two stories high. It glimmered a strange hue of green in the setting sun. Designs of reptilian scales were etched into the wall in semicircles, flowing and round. The image of a coiled white snake was etched on the main entrance door, its flanges flared back and fangs bared in warning. Its yellow eyes seemed to hiss, making Isao wondered if he'd started to lose his mind.
A deep fatigue permeated Isao's body now. His bones, skin, and muscles ached. He wanted nothing more than some fresh water and a long night’s sleep.
"It seems to go on forever," Celty murmured, glancing down the length of the wall.
Khalem tottered where he stood; he was barely conscious. Blood dribbled down his arm, and they'd long ago run out of herbs to help numb the worst of his pain.
"Yes," Ranbelt said. "Havin is quite large."
Isao turned to face Celty. He could feel her hesitation as she stared at the massive gates.
"You are going to go now?" he asked.
She nodded, her lips pressed together. "I have seen you this far."
"For that, we owe you our lives. Thank you, Celty. May you fulfill your adventure and find your place."
They paused for a moment, each eying the other. Isao wanted to reach out and pull her into an embrace, but shucked the temptation off. It wouldn't be right.
"Go," she say, nodding at the door. "All of you need help, and I want to be out of Havin as fast as I can."
Celty stepped back. She locked eyes with Isao one more time, then headed back the way they had come at an easy lope.
Isao watched her go until the mist absorbed the sight of her. Then he turned back to Ranbelt.
"Let us go."
As soon as Isao, Khalem and Ranbelt entered the city through the double doors, a pair of guards stepped out of a shack just inside the walls. Isao and Khalem showed them their weapons, flashing the imperial crest. The guards bowed.
"You may go, Prince Isao, General Khalem," one of the guards said.
The two eyed Ranbelt, but let him pass.
As they shuffled forward, Isao supported Khalem from his left side. The General leaned heavily on him.
"Isao," he whispered. "I must stop."
"We are so close, my old friend. Just a little farther."
Four figures approached through the mist. One was a man around fifty years of age who was wearing a violet robe over his broad shoulders. Next to him was a tall figure in a crimson tunic wearing a mask with a bulbous nose. Some sort of pendant swung from his neck. Two men wearing armor followed behind them.
"Do you see them?" Ranbelt asked, squinting.
"Yes."
"I am not imagining it?"
"Not unless we both have the same waking dream."
The closer they got, the more clearly Isao could see them.
The man with the violet robe had the image of the coiled white snake from the great doors embroidered on his sleeve.
A breath of relief rippled through Isao. Ransaki Ular! One of the councilmen of the Clan, and brother to the Ular ruler, Juben.
Isao had met Ransaki at the imperial palace.
Now that he was closer, Isao could see that the pendant the other robed figure wore was in the shape of a left hand.
Ranbelt's eyes darted from the two men, to Isao, and then back around. His steps slowed. He hunched his shoulders a little.
"Emissaries," Isao said softly to Khalem. "They have come to welcome us, just as we knew they would. We're saved, Khalem! Ranbelt, do you see?"
But when he turned to look at Ranbelt, Ranbelt was gone.
"Prince Isao and General Khalem!" greeted Ransaki smiled, his serpentine lips coiling at the edges. In the mist, it seemed his yellowish eyes glowed, like all those of the Ular Clan. "Welcome to our home. But you are injured?" He furrowed his brow.