Moonburner (Moonburner Cycle Book 1) Read online

  “She’s right,” Maaya said. “Even if we did get caught, it would just be a slap on the wrist. It will be fun.”

  “You’re both going?” Kai asked.

  They nodded in unison.

  “I’m in.”

  A quiet knock sounded on her door, and Kai opened it, cringing at the creak the old hinges made.

  Maaya and Emi slipped in. Maaya was wearing a soft olive dress wrapped around her, tied with a wide tan belt. She wore matching knee-high leather boots and a brimmed brown cap that mostly covered her silver hair. Emi looked even more stunning than usual, sporting tight red trousers and a fitted long leather coat with a high collar. She wore a black slouched knitted cap and kohl eyeliner around her dark eyes. They both looked at Kai with distaste.

  “What?” Kai asked, and then looked down at her novice grays. Her heart sank. “I don’t have any other clothes.”

  “Well, that won’t do; you’ll stand out like a sore thumb,” Maaya said, shaking her head. “Lucky you have us. We thought ahead.” She tossed a package at Kai that had been tucked under her arm. Kai unwrapped it and spread the clothes on her bed.

  “A leather skirt?” she asked weakly.

  “You have to look the part,” Emi said, grinning devilishly.

  Kai changed into the tight brown leather skirt, soft white collared shirt, and navy vest that buttoned tightly under her bosom. The girls had loaned her leather boots and a knit blue hat to finish the look.

  “I look ridiculous,” Kai said, panic rising in her. Her legs felt naked. She had never worn clothing so short or tight; she had always dressed loosely to hide her figure.

  Maaya and Emi shook their heads, surveying Kai with pride.

  “You look gorgeous,” Emi said.

  “I can’t . . . I can’t go out like this,” Kai said, tugging the skirt down as far as it would go. Which wasn’t far.

  “Woman up, Kai,” Emi said.

  Maaya laid a hand on Emi’s arm, shooting her a look. “What’s wrong?” Maaya asked, gently. “I know it’s a little different than what you’re used to, but it’s not that revealing. Besides, the point of tonight is to be a little daring, to do something different than you normally would.”

  Kai blew a lock of hair from her eyes, not sure whether to tell them the whole truth.

  Quitsu, who had been observing silently from the bed, jumped onto the desk, startling them all. “She is nervous because she’s never dressed like a girl before.”

  “Traitor,” she muttered.

  Maaya, having already gotten over the surprise of hearing Quitsu speak once, found her tongue more quickly. “What does he mean?”

  Kai closed her eyes and leaned back against her desk, trying to force down the memories that were threatening to overwhelm her. Friends she couldn’t have, ways she couldn’t act, boys she couldn’t flirt with, dresses she couldn’t wear. All because of her secret.

  “My parents knew I was a moonburner from the day I was born. They knew what it would mean in Kita. So, they pretended I was a boy,” Kai said. “For seventeen years.”

  Maaya and Emi’s expressions were a matched set—wide eyes and open mouths. Kai couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “My parents planned to smuggle me to Miina when I was eighteen, so I could join the citadel. But I was exposed. My punishment was to be left in the desert to die. That’s how I ended up here. Thanks to Quitsu, anyway.” She scratched his ears.

  “I can’t imagine what you must have gone through,” Maaya said.

  “Why didn’t your parents just move to Miina when you were younger?” Emi asked. Maaya shot her another sidelong glance.

  “Er, sorry,” Emi said. “It just seems like an easier solution than putting you through all of that.”

  Kai frowned. Her parents had told her she couldn’t start her training until she was eighteen, but the novices here started as young as twelve. Had they lied to her?

  “I guess . . .” Kai said, fumbling for something to say, “because of the ranch? We couldn’t leave our land? I never thought to ask them. And now . . . it’s too late.”

  Quitsu rubbed his head on her arm, lending his warm strength to her.

  “This is getting a little heavy for moonburner day out,” Emi said.

  “What Emi means,” Maaya piped in, “is that we are very sorry for what you went through.”

  “Yes, that is what I mean.” Emi crossed the room and sat on the desk next to her. “Listen, Kai. Maybe a few of the moonburners here had perfect easy childhoods, but most of us didn’t. Maaya’s older sister was killed in a sunburner raid, and her parents have never been the same.”

  Kai looked at Maaya, whose jaw was set, her arms crossed. She gave a sharp nod.

  Emi continued, “My parents died when I was young from cherry fever. I had the good fortune to live with my aunt who thought she’d pay for my room and board by renting me out to some of the men in the neighborhood.”

  Kai swallowed, her stomach souring.

  “It only took one man bleeding out before she realized that wasn’t a particularly lucrative business scheme,” Emi said, her eyes flashing like steel.

  “I don’t mean to make light of what you went through, I’m sure it was horrible. But a lot of us have been through horrible things. But now we’re here. We’ve been given a second chance. We’ve been given sisters to share our burdens with. And most of all, we’ve been granted power—power to defend ourselves, to destroy the injustice in this world, to fight for what is right. You’re not powerless anymore. We don’t have to hide anymore, or be ignored, or be exploited.”

  “Emi is right,” Maaya said. “You are a moonburner. Even as a novice, you’re already one of the most powerful women in the world. Don’t be afraid to act like it.”

  “And you’ve got great legs, so wear the damn skirt,” Emi said.

  They were both right. It was time to stop being afraid, to stop being the smallest form of herself, to hope that no one noticed her or saw who she really was. She stood up.

  “Okay,” she said, taking as deep a breath as the tight vest buttons allowed. “Let’s go.”

  The three girls walked out, heads high. Kai’s heart was pounding. Quitsu had refused to stay behind, but had agreed to trail behind them once they reached the city, so they wouldn’t be immediately recognized as moonburners.

  “You know, Emi only gives about one motivational speech per year.” Maaya whispered as they made their way through an alley behind Kai’s dormitory. “You should be honored.”

  Kai laughed quietly. “I am, I am.”

  “Quota is met,” Emi said.

  “How are we going to get out of the citadel without being seen?” Kai asked, as they turned a corner. The rising morning sun wasn’t particularly conducive to sneaking.

  “You let us worry about that,” Emi said.

  Emi led them through a maze of back alleys and deserted squares until they reached a part of the citadel Kai had never visited. It seemed older, or perhaps simply neglected, the whitewashed paint coated with a thin layer of dust.

  They peered around a corner into a triangular courtyard. One side of the triangle was bordered by a grassy hill which backed up against the citadel wall. A compact white marble building nestled against the hillside, its entrance marked by a carved marble archway.

  “What is this place?”

  “The crypt,” Emi said, in her best spooky voice, waggling her fingers.

  “Very funny,” Kai said.

  “Seriously. It’s the crypt,” Emi said. “Let’s go.”

  Before Kai could protest, Maaya and Emi darted across the courtyard, opening the huge wooden door and slipping inside. Kai and Quitsu followed.

  “Don’t even say it,” she said to Quitsu, as disapproval radiated from his furry body.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  The door opened into a cool antechamber, dimly lit by a few orbs.

  “One of these days,” Kai muttered, “someone is going to explain to me how all th
ese damn orbs got here.”

  Maaya looked back at Kai as they made their way down the stairs at the back of the antechamber.

  “I keep forgetting you didn’t grow up here. The orbs have always been here. They say they were one of the first gifts Tsuki gave to the moonburners when they established Kyuden and the citadel. So they would never be without moonlight.”

  “All that means,” Emi said, “is that no one knows how they got here, or how they work.” Emi’s snort rang off the stone walls. “Tsuki’s gift, my foot.”

  “Do they actually give off moonlight? You can burn from them?” Kai asked in wonder.

  “It’s weak, but yes, in a pinch. Better to use your moonstone, if you can’t get moonlight.”

  They finally reached the end of the staircase. It had grown much colder and Kai shivered in her thin white shirt. The shadows clung to the walls. A musty, vaguely unpleasant smell permeated her nostrils.

  “What are we doing here?” Kai whispered, her voice echoing in the stone room.

  Neither of the girls answered her. Emi turned back the cuff of her shirt and lit her moonstone link, so it shone bright white. She held her arm aloft. Kai swallowed her questions. Somehow, it seemed wrong to speak here.

  The moonlight shone off the objects near them, but was swallowed by the blackness of the periphery of the room. In the dim light, Kai could see that the room was made entirely of stone, with a low, vaulted ceiling. They walked down an aisle way that passed between rows of crypts. They were the kind favored by the rich—stone sarcophagi with the likeness of the inhabitant within carved on top. A stone sarcophagus one row back caught her eye, the light just reaching it. It was huge, built on a dais with stone arches crossing from corner to corner and meeting in the middle. Kai could just see a woman’s likeness was carved on top. The features . . . looked strangely familiar.

  “Hey!” she called, drawn to it. “Come here for a second.”

  She crossed over one aisle and climbed the steps. The light followed as Emi and Maaya met her.

  “We’re not here on a field trip. Let’s go,” Emi said.

  Even rendered in stone, the woman was young and beautiful, a delicate circlet on her head. Her face reminded Kai of someone, but she couldn’t put her finger on it. At her feet lay a lynx with soft tufted ears, its head tucked peacefully on its knees. Her seishen?

  Maaya read the inscription. “Azura, beloved daughter and sister.” Kai’s mind reeled, the Oracle’s words flooding back into her mind.

  “No, no, no,” Emi said, grabbing Kai’s hand. “Let’s go.”

  Kai let Emi pull her away back to the main aisle and they continued into the bowels of the crypt.

  “Who was she?” Kai asked, heart racing.

  “She was the queen’s sister,” Emi said. “She died. They say it almost drove the queen mad with grief. Somehow I don’t think she’d appreciate us lurking around.”

  Kai’s thoughts tumbled as they walked the rest of the way through the dark crypt. Daughter of Azura. Those were the Oracle’s words. Was it a different Azura she was talking about? How could she be the daughter of a dead woman? Kai had to know more.

  Kai came back to herself as they pulled up short in front of a sarcophagus in a corner alcove.

  “Felicita,” Kai read.

  Emi stood up one step, and placed both hands on the stone woman’s bosom.

  “What are you doing?” Kai asked.

  Emi pushed, and a grinding noise followed. A portion of the wall behind the sarcophagus slid to the side, revealing a narrow passageway.

  “Seriously?” Kai asked.

  “We’re pretty sure this passage was designed by a man,” Maaya said with a giggle.

  They came out of the tunnel into a dark alcove. The alcove led to a covered walkway that opened onto a courtyard. A fountain bubbled, depicting a woman pouring water into the mouth of a man down on one knee.

  “If you ever need to get back,” Emi said, “just find your way to the square of the thirsty man.”

  Kai looked back over her shoulder at the fountain, strangely disconcerted.

  “We’re pretty sure that was designed by a man, too,” Maaya said.

  It was Kai’s first glimpse of Kyuden from the ground. It felt strange to be sneaking about in the daytime, as the sun’s first rays fell on the tops of the dingy buildings, turning the formerly white walls a fiery orange. Kai trailed after Emi and Maaya, taking it all in with wide eyes.

  The city was a maze of narrow cobblestone and dirt streets, with a mish-mash of stone and brick buildings built so closely together that they resembled strange parasites feeding off one another. Wherever she looked, the white stone walls of the citadel loomed high above them.

  The city showed signs of neglect, which only got worse the farther they walked.

  Emi must have seen Kai’s wrinkled nose, and chuckled. “City living. It’s a beautiful thing, isn’t it?”

  “We’re in the old city right now. It backs up against the Citadel and the river,” Maaya explained. “These are some of the oldest buildings in the city, which is why the planning leaves . . . something to be desired. The new city is across the river. That is where most of the wealthy and merchants live. It’s much nicer than this part.”

  As they walked, the cobbled streets gave way to mud, which mixed with trash and waste, splashed onto the nearby buildings by wagon wheels and horse hooves. Beggars and wide-eyed orphans gathered in clutches in door frames and alleyways, sorting through garbage for treasures discarded by the more fortunate. It looked as if the abundance enjoyed by the queen and her moonburners did not extend to all of Miinan society.

  “Is this still the old city?” Kai asked.

  “No,” Maaya said. “This is the Meadows. It’s the poorest part of the city.”

  “The Meadows?” Kai asked. Nothing seemed further from the truth.

  “I think people started calling it that ironically. The name just sort of stuck,” Emi explained.

  Kai could tell they made it through the Meadows when the streets returned to cobblestone with deep carved gutters for waste.

  “We’re almost there,” Maaya said. “This neighborhood is called the Coin. It’s near the gates to the city walls and the port, which means a lot of the merchants live here.”

  They crested a hill, and Kai’s breath caught in her chest. The sun was fully up now and glistened off the river that snaked below them. Thousands of buildings nestled against the hillside leading down to the river. Their tiled roofs glistened in the sun, like the scales of a great dragon.

  “Wow,” Kai said.

  “I’ve never been to Kistana,” Emi said, referring to the Kitan capital, “but I think it’s safe to say we live in the most beautiful city in the world.”

  They soon reached their destination, a respectable three-story inn called The Fox and Fiddle. Kai glanced up along the tops of the buildings for Quitsu and saw his silver fox form. A good omen perhaps?

  The tavern room of The Fox and Fiddle was large and welcoming, flanked by two large stone fireplaces and topped with half-timbered ceilings. The warm wood walls were covered with ancient-looking musical instruments, some that she didn’t recognize at all. Well-worn tables were nestled throughout the room, full with customers enjoying steaming hot meals, cold beverages, and good conversation. They wound their way through the patrons and found Emi’s friends, two other young women wearing hats, sitting at a high table near the back.

  Pleasantries were exchanged, and Kai met Stela and Leilu, two samaneras. Stela had an exotic look to her, with dark almond skin, freckles across her nose, and big silver earrings that jangled when she moved her head. Leilu was tall and lean, with a long oval face and sparkling straight white teeth. Both had big smiles and easy laughs.

  “We really wish we could have seen you drop Chiya to the dirt,” Stela said. Kai chuckled. “You and about every other samanera in the citadel!”

  “We should sell tickets next time,” Emi said. “We’d make a fortune.”<
br />
  A wrinkled serving man placed down a chilled blue glass bottle and two ceramic cups on their table.

  “Three more cups please,” Stela said.

  “And an order of the duck dumplings,” Leilu called after the man, who was already moving on to serve his other patrons. “And the fried noodles.”

  Stela cast a pointed look in Leilu’s direction. “What?” Leilu said. “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” Emi said.

  “Exactly,” Stela agreed.

  The serving man returned with three more cups and Stela filled them with a clear liquid, distributing them.

  She held up her cup. “To a much deserved day out.”

  “And to new friends,” Maaya chimed in, casting a warm look at Kai.

  “Kampai.” The girls said, clinking their glasses together and downing the contents.

  Kai followed suit and let the cold drink slide down her throat. The flavor was sour and the liquid burned a trail down her mouth and throat. She coughed.

  The others looked at her with amused gazes. “Not a fan of sake?” Emi asked.

  “It’s terrible,” Kai admitted.

  The others laughed.

  “An acquired taste,” Maaya said. “Have you . . . not had it before?”

  “I didn’t get out much,” Kai said. “But you probably already guessed that.”

  “Pour her another,” Leilu said. “She’s got lost time to make up for.”

  The second cup went down easier than the first. The burning nestled in her stomach, turning into a pleasant warmth.

  Steaming plates of dumplings and noodles arrived and the girls dove in, chatting about classmates and teachers. They made Kai down another glass of sake, which was already going to her head.

  “I wonder,” she mused, “if I get drunk, will Quitsu get drunk too?”

  “Only one way to find out,” Emi said with a devilish grin as she poured another round.

  Emi had just flagged down the server to order another bottle when the band stepped onto the makeshift stage in the corner of the tavern room. There were four members: a singer, a biwa mandolin player, a bambu flute player, and a drummer. They all appeared to be in their early twenties and were very good looking. The mandolin player made Ren look like a country farmhand.