Dragon Blood (World of the Lupi #14)

The woman who wasn’t dead and therefore couldn’t be Helen didn’t treat her as dangerous. Not-Helen strolled along beside her as if they were acquaintances out to enjoy the gardens on a hot summer afternoon. Maybe she was enjoying herself in her loose cotton clothing. Lily bet the guards in their leather cuirasses were almost as uncomfortable as she was in her leather jacket. Her ankle bitched at her with every step. She tried to ignore that, the heat, and the lingering throb of a headache and gather information.

All of the guards’ minds were present to her mindsense. So was the woman’s. Not dragon spawn, then. They were human minds, as far as she could tell—which, admittedly, was based on limited experience, but human minds generally reminded her of some yellow fruit. The guards’ minds were yellow and fuzzy. The woman’s was . . . odd. The color was mostly yellow, though with a blush of rose, but her mind was slick and the overall glow was tamped down in a way that reminded Lily of something. She couldn’t think what, but the slickness meant she couldn’t mindspeak the woman.

The guards, though—if she mindspoke one of the guards, would she need to think at him in Chinese? The black dragon didn’t need to share a mutual language with someone to mindspeak him or her, but he could do all kinds of things that were beyond her. Like read minds. And how would it work if they replied? Most people had to vocalize for Lily to pick up their mental response. If they spoke in Chinese, would she “hear” them in English or in Chinese?

She resisted the urge to try it and find out. Far better if her captors didn’t know about her little trick. Sweat dampened her hairline. They’d almost reached the trees and the shade they offered. A couple more sorcéri brushed against her cheek. There seemed to be a lot of loose magic here. “So what is this place? Where—”

The guard holding her rope gave it a jerk and barked out an order. Lily stumbled. She would have fallen if Not-Helen hadn’t grabbed her arm. The woman let loose with a spate of that odd version of Chinese. It was like listening to someone speak English with a thick Scottish brogue. Lily recognized the language, but only understood bits and pieces. Not-Helen seemed to be chastising the guards for their stupidity, though, which was interesting on several levels.

After some back and forth between Not-Helen and Li Po, one of the rear guards trotted off. The woman turned to Lily. “What is your injury?”

“My ankle. A sprain.”

“There is a rickshaw. These cretins left it on the other side of the bridge. It is true that wheeled vehicles are not normally allowed in the Xīnzàng de Jiā, but Li Po had the authority to bring it with him. I suspect he considers any sort of cart beneath his dignity. They will bring it now, but Li Po refuses to wait for it. He claims this is because he was ordered to take you to your cell and he cannot delay. In reality, he obeys me as grudgingly as possible. He disapproves of uppity women. Are you able to walk, or should they carry you until we reach the rickshaw?”

This woman had gone to some trouble to arrange transport for Lily. She might be kind by nature . . . or she might want something. Lily was putting her nickel down on the latter. “I’ll walk. I’ll be slow, however.”

“Despite Li Po’s claim, there’s no hurry.”

Lily started limping forward again. “I’m being taken to a cell.”

“Of course. You will find it primitive, but at least it’s one of those at the Justice Court. The jail in the town is much worse.”

“Who’s the other human? The one who’s already in the cell?”

“Cynna Weaver.”

Relief swamped Lily. Cynna was alive. Alive—and a prisoner. That was bad, but it meant that Lily wasn’t here alone . . . a thought that swirled guilt in with the relief and dismay. She shouldn’t be glad Cynna was here, but she was. Aside from the not-being-alone part, there was the fact that Cynna was a powerful spellcaster. They would have taken her charms away, and most spells called for components, but still, there was bound to be stuff she could . . .

“Do you know why our ally wants you?”

It took Lily a moment to switch tracks, and another moment to decide to answer. For whatever reason, the woman who looked exactly like Helen Whitehead was willing to answer questions—or to exchange answers. Best keep that going, if she could. “Unless she’s changed her mind again, she wants to wipe my brain clean so she can imprint a copy of the Codex Arcana on it.”

There was a slight hitch in the woman’s stride. “She has the Codex?”

“I don’t know. She doesn’t keep me posted. What do you call that guy? The dragon spawn who wouldn’t give me his name, I mean.” Would this woman recognize the term?

“I advise you not to use that descriptive in his hearing or that of his brothers. They dislike it, and their emotional control is erratic.”

“Is it better to call them Lóng Luǎn, then?” Lily used the Chinese phrase for “dragon spawn” to see if the guards recognized it. Sure enough, one of them gave her a sharp glance.

“No. They are addressed by honorifics rather than names. You refer to them as the Zhuren, plural, or Zhu in the singular. The one you met is Zhu Kongqi.”

Lily’s eyebrows lifted. “They’re the Masters, and he’s Master of Air?”

“The form of address they have chosen is not hyperbole. Each of them has studied and mastered a particular area of magic.”

Not mind magic, though, she’d bet. “How many of them are there?”

“I’m told there used to be seven. There are now six. I suspect Zhu Shouyì was killed by one or more of his brothers, but it is possible he crossed to another realm. What do you know of the Codex Arcana?”

“It’s The Book of All Magic, and it’s a real thing, not a myth.” They were trudging uphill now, surrounded by some landscaper’s notion of what a forest should look like—uncrowded trees and not much undergrowth. Lily’s ankle hurt too much for her to appreciate the setting. It hurt enough to drown out the ache in her head, if not the one in her heart. She wanted to ask if they were there yet, but that would be a dreadful waste of a question. Clearly they weren’t. “Where are the children?”

“They aren’t here yet.”

Lily hadn’t needed to explain which children she was talking about. Interesting. “But they will be brought here?”

“I cannot tell you more. Surely that is not the sum of your knowledge about the Codex—that it exists.”

“Anything else would be speculation, not fact.” Speculation based on fact, however. After trying hard for a year to have Lily killed, all of a sudden the Great Bitch had reverted to wanting Lily taken prisoner. She could see only one reason for that.

“I would hear your speculation.”

“Can we be overheard by anyone who understands English?”

“No.”

“If Zhu Kongqi is really a Master of Air, he might be able to listen in. Clairaudience is a type of Air magic.”

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