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almondinflowerCharacters: In this chapter - Waya, Isumi, Touya, Yang Hai
Wordcount: 2380
Summary: In a world where divination is used to predict the future and govern nations, State Diviner Touya Akira and private investigator Waya Yoshitaka embark on a search for the heretic Sai, the ghostly diviner who may be the most powerful of them all.
This chapter: On arrival in Yih, there are difficult conversations with Isumi and Yang Hai, and Touya and Waya adjust to the idea of working together.
Chapter 1 here.
Blazing radiance and utter darkness
and nothing more: how did it happen?
Isumi was waiting on the platform when we arrived. Preoccupied with the unexpectedly complicated task of retrieving my suitcase from the overhead rack, I was the last to see him. I emerged from the carriage just as Le Ping was attempting to strangle Isumi in a bear hug. He was nearly as tall as Isumi now. Which meant that I was nearly as tall as Isumi now.
“I've told the porter to take your things to the car,” Isumi said, extricating himself from Le Ping's clutches. “Hullo, Waya.”
He smiled and I was happy, happy, happy. By now it was such an unfamiliar sensation that for a minute, I didn't know what to do.
“Will we be able to gain an audience with the emperor tomorrow?” inquired Touya.
Isumi nodded. “I arranged one as soon as I received your telegram.” Like Touya, Isumi was dressed in official state robes, all sheen and gold thread and satin colour. Le Ping, on the other hand, wore too-long jeans and an open black jacket. His torque flashed bright and conspicuous at his collar. As the other passengers disembarked and came wandering through, I grew uncomfortably aware of the attention we were getting.
Isumi noticed as well. “Let's get moving,” he suggested, pushing gently at the small of my back.
Outside, the moon was in a quarter-phase. Near the taxi stand, a uniformed man was loading our baggage from a wide trolley into the trunk of a black saloon car. We got in. Isumi took the front passenger seat; I ended up sandwiched between Touya and Le Ping.
“You can stay at the consulate tonight, if you like,” Isumi told Le Ping.
The streets of Wuzi were narrow, the shophouses huddled together in cramped terraces. Nearly every building featured casement windows, wooden and slatted, with adjoining ledges that displayed rows of potted plants or, occasionally, oddly, worn shoes or broken toys. Streetlamps winked at most corners. There were more pedestrians walking about than I would expect at the same hour in Ki.
“Remind me to take you to a night market while we're here,” Isumi said. “Nearly there now. By the way, Yang Hai's coming to supper.”
Le Ping made a noise resembling a dying animal.
“Don't worry. He's not mad at you.”
“I'm the one who's mad at him!” Folding his arms across his chest, he remained disgruntled until we arrived some twenty minutes later at the consulate, a quirky but tasteful hybrid of Ki and Yihian architecture. The entranceway was paved in granite and lined with stone lions sejant on marble plinths.
Isumi showed us to our rooms. When we finally got to mine, he lingered in the doorway, one hand resting against the doorframe, as I took in the postered bed, the extravagantly corniced ceiling, the handpainted scrolls that hung against the walls.
“This kind of thing really reminds me how much money I'm missing out on.” My words came off harsh. His smile faded. I wanted to kick myself.
He was the one to break the silence some seconds later, coming over and touching my shoulder lightly but surely. “It's good to see you,” he said softly.
I managed an awkward grin; and then it was all right again. He sat at the writing desk by the window while I moved around, unpacking my things.
“How long will you be here?” he asked.
I shrugged. “As long as His Highness wants me here. He expects us to find Sai within the next twenty-seven days, so probably not longer than that.”
“You're hunting for Sai again?” A little darkness came into his voice. “Why?”
“That's confidential.”
“Unusual of you to be so obedient to Touya Akira.”
That pulled me up short. “Were you always this good at pushing people's buttons?”
“Yours? Yes, always.” The words slid easily from his lips, like they had all evening. His hair was longer than he had worn it when we were novitiates. There were tiny copper studs in his ears.
“You're brilliant at your job, aren't you? No wonder they've kept you here this long.”
“It'd be a waste of human resources otherwise. It takes a long time to master the Yihian language.”
There was a low stool next to the mahogany armoire where I'd just put away my clothes. I sat there. “Did you talk to Shindou when he came to Yih last year?”
“Yes.” His face was cautious; he did not elaborate. I chose my next questions carefully.
“How was he?”
“Polite. Distracted.”
“Distracted?” The window by Isumi's head was ajar; the breeze made the magnolia print curtains billow inwards.
“I mostly spoke to Sai,” he said.
“Then he was--”
“Not quite. Almost.”
“What were they planning?”
“To get rid of the 'not quite'." He stood and paced slowly across the carpet. "To be honest, he seems essentially a kind person. Under different circumstances, we might have been friends.”
“If he was alive, you mean? Where did they go after that?”
“Shindou wouldn't tell me.”
“Is Shindou angry?”
Isumi studied my face. “He doesn't blame you, if that's what you're asking.”
I looked into his eyes. “And you?”
“Only for leaving me.”
A year ago, six months ago, the response would have been: “Only for leaving the novitiates.” Or perhaps: “Only for giving up on divination.” Now Isumi's answer hovered in the air, gentle, naked, forgiving.
I went to the balcony and watched the moon weaving in and out of the clouds. He followed me. I heard the rise and fall of his breath.
“I won't move to Wuzi.” I stared at the rickshaws wheeling in the streets below.
“I thought you mightn't.”
“I don't even know why. It's just—”
“You want to take responsibility. Even though you did the right thing.”
“I happen to think Shindou was correct! What's the point of predicting the future if you can't control it?” I spun around and he caught me by the shoulders.
“It's a long way from divination to necromancy,” he murmured, stroking my wrist with his thumb. Belatedly, I realised that I was trembling.
“Let go of me,” I said finally.
He withdrew, and left the room as gracefully as he had entered. Gripping the balustrade tightly, I scowled into the darkness.
#
The first thing Yang Hai did when he arrived at supper was to ruffle Le Ping's hair, prompting a yelp from the brat. Then he shook my hand.
“So you're Waya. I feel like we know each other already. Isumi talks about you all the time.”
“All unflattering, I'm sure.” He was tall, with a sun-darkened complexion, blunt features, and sleepy but shrewd eyes. His mandarin robe was of ultramarine satin, embroidered in thread the colour of robin's eggs.
I was placed between Le Ping and Touya at the dining table after Yang Hai professed a desire to see 'the twins' side by side.
The meal was exquisite, which was just as well. Halfway through our entree of quail's eggs and crisp noodles tossed in sesame oil, Yang Hai changed tack, picking on Touya instead:
“So you're the little princeling of Ki. You're prettier than I expected.'
It wasn't the sort of jibe that could be expected to perturb Touya, who merely finished chewing, and glanced back with his straight inexorable gaze. He was pretty; beautiful, in fact. “It's a privilege to meet you as well. The news of your exploits in the Yihian Ministry of Internal Affairs has preceded you."
”Would you like some wine?” Isumi deftly decanted the clear liquid into my glass without waiting for my response.
“I met your father not long ago,” Yang Hai told Touya. “He's an impressive man.”
“I'm aware of that. I did grow up with him.”
Le Ping asked for seconds. Isumi told him to wait for the main course. Le Ping eyed Touya's barely disarrayed appetiser in dismay. Touya was a small eater, and a slow one.
“I asked him why he had come to Yih," said Yang Hai. "He said he was searching for a person.”
“Did he tell you who he was seeking?”
“If I'd needed him to tell me, I wouldn't deserve my job.” Above us, the miniature chandelier flickered. Le Ping fiddled with the silverware. I debated whether I was too old to kick Isumi under the table, decided that I was, and settled for gritting my teeth at the portrait in the far corner, a monochromic woodcut of a young boy playing a biwa by a miniature stream.
Touya had stopped all pretense of eating. “Do you have something to tell me, Privy Minister? If not, I suggest that we cease trading meaningless words.”
“If you wish.” Yang Hai placed a quail's egg between his lips and swallowed it whole. “But I rather think you're the one who has questions for me. If you want me to answer them, you should start by asking.”
Touya flushed. He took a delicate sip of white wine. His skin was fair and dry, his eyes glistening with provoked temper. I watched his pride duke it out with his curiosity and lose. He finally mustered a query while the main course (tea-marinated duck, steamed cabbage, arranged on black rice) was being served. “Where did my father go?”
“I don't know.” Irritation flickered in Touya's eyes at Yang Hai's response; I wondered what would happen if a Ki State Diviner murdered a Yihian Minister. Before anything could happen, though, Yang Hai continued, "He did mention one thing before he left: that he was looking for the center of heaven. Does that mean anything to you?”
You have to assert control over the universe, if you want to suborn it.
Touya, too, caught the significance, judging by the tiny but visible contraction of his jaw.
Yang Hai said, “I would like to clear Lu Li of the charges being laid against him. Two men thousands of miles apart, both killed in empty rooms. That's not a mystery I know how to solve. Is Touya Akira capable of deciphering the heart of the puzzle?”
I set down my chopsticks with a clack against the enamel rice bowl. “Touya's not the only person in Ki interested in getting to the bottom of this, you know.”
Yang Hai snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes, I forgot that you were the hero of the Sai tribunal.”
It was then that I realised that Touya was not the only one he was trying to provoke.
#
Isumi apologised in the morning. “Yang Hai can be unorthodox, but he's a good person at heart.”
“He's a prat,” I snapped. Le Ping voiced assent.
“He's on our side.”
“Aren't you being a little premature in assuming that we're on the same side?” In the gray matutinal light, the interior of the consulate appeared shadowy and riotous with ornaments: jade monkeys, chryselephantine figurines. Cursive calligraphy in watery ink covered human-sized sheets of rice paper, muttering wisdom, longevity, and riches to the inhabitants of the building. Isumi stood out in stark sober contrast, dressed in taupe trousers, a pressed cotton shirt, and a moire tie.
“Then why are you here?” Isumi was hurt, now. I was too consumed with immediate and intermediate goals to consider his feelings. I needed to think.
“Where's Touya?” I asked.
From the little flicker of Isumi's eyelids, I knew that he would have preferred to segue into frank argument. But we were both dismayingly aware of Le Ping's presence. “I think he's in the reading room. He told the servants he wouldn't be coming in for breakfast.”
“I'm going to talk to him.” I scooped up the last of my congee in two efficient, impolite mouthfuls and kicked my chair back, determinedly not looking at anyone else. Isumi's sad, understanding gaze raked my back.
I found Touya sitting on a sheepskin rug in a corner of the library, slouched over a dusty leatherbound tome and surrounded by towers of many more books. Dust hung in the air; I sneezed.
Noticing my presence, he wished me a good morning. His manners had at least improved that much since we were novitiates.
“Let me guess.” I started flipping through the volumes he'd collected. “You're questing for the center of heaven.”
“Do you know anything you're not sharing with me?” His defensiveness was palpable today. Note to self: Touya Akira did have weak points. “I suppose not.”
I joined him on the rug, half-expecting him to shrink back. He did not. The book he was reading was a history of geomancy. “The Directions of Chaos and Order in Land and Air. Do you expect the tengen to be a physical location?”
“I'm not sure. But it wouldn't do us much good if it were merely a theoretical concept.”
“Well, we could always ask around, see if anyone else has a more concrete lead on where your father went off to.” I didn't voice my worry: that three months was a long time. Both Shindou and Touya Kouyou could be anywhere in the world by now.
“The tengen opening--”
“Wasn't a Sai thing at all. It was something Shindou always did. But none of Sai's divinations ever began at that point. Not even the last one, where, you know – yeah.”
“It may mean that Shindou is a more powerful Diviner than Sai is, by now.”
Dawn birdsong drifted indoors, a concatenation of caws, trills, and twittering. I laughed. “So much for your constant dismissal of Shindou when we were novitiates. I'm going to get dressed. Don't stay here too long, we need to get out and do some detecting by midmorning.”
"We?”
“I can't speak Yihian, remember? So if you want me to do any investigating, you're going to have to interpret for me. Oh, and don't forget to pull up some necromantic texts while you're still there.”
“I know what to do,” he said, prickly.
I felt irrationally delighted as I exited.
On to Chapter 6.
Wordcount: 2380
Summary: In a world where divination is used to predict the future and govern nations, State Diviner Touya Akira and private investigator Waya Yoshitaka embark on a search for the heretic Sai, the ghostly diviner who may be the most powerful of them all.
This chapter: On arrival in Yih, there are difficult conversations with Isumi and Yang Hai, and Touya and Waya adjust to the idea of working together.
Chapter 1 here.
and nothing more: how did it happen?
Isumi was waiting on the platform when we arrived. Preoccupied with the unexpectedly complicated task of retrieving my suitcase from the overhead rack, I was the last to see him. I emerged from the carriage just as Le Ping was attempting to strangle Isumi in a bear hug. He was nearly as tall as Isumi now. Which meant that I was nearly as tall as Isumi now.
“I've told the porter to take your things to the car,” Isumi said, extricating himself from Le Ping's clutches. “Hullo, Waya.”
He smiled and I was happy, happy, happy. By now it was such an unfamiliar sensation that for a minute, I didn't know what to do.
“Will we be able to gain an audience with the emperor tomorrow?” inquired Touya.
Isumi nodded. “I arranged one as soon as I received your telegram.” Like Touya, Isumi was dressed in official state robes, all sheen and gold thread and satin colour. Le Ping, on the other hand, wore too-long jeans and an open black jacket. His torque flashed bright and conspicuous at his collar. As the other passengers disembarked and came wandering through, I grew uncomfortably aware of the attention we were getting.
Isumi noticed as well. “Let's get moving,” he suggested, pushing gently at the small of my back.
Outside, the moon was in a quarter-phase. Near the taxi stand, a uniformed man was loading our baggage from a wide trolley into the trunk of a black saloon car. We got in. Isumi took the front passenger seat; I ended up sandwiched between Touya and Le Ping.
“You can stay at the consulate tonight, if you like,” Isumi told Le Ping.
The streets of Wuzi were narrow, the shophouses huddled together in cramped terraces. Nearly every building featured casement windows, wooden and slatted, with adjoining ledges that displayed rows of potted plants or, occasionally, oddly, worn shoes or broken toys. Streetlamps winked at most corners. There were more pedestrians walking about than I would expect at the same hour in Ki.
“Remind me to take you to a night market while we're here,” Isumi said. “Nearly there now. By the way, Yang Hai's coming to supper.”
Le Ping made a noise resembling a dying animal.
“Don't worry. He's not mad at you.”
“I'm the one who's mad at him!” Folding his arms across his chest, he remained disgruntled until we arrived some twenty minutes later at the consulate, a quirky but tasteful hybrid of Ki and Yihian architecture. The entranceway was paved in granite and lined with stone lions sejant on marble plinths.
Isumi showed us to our rooms. When we finally got to mine, he lingered in the doorway, one hand resting against the doorframe, as I took in the postered bed, the extravagantly corniced ceiling, the handpainted scrolls that hung against the walls.
“This kind of thing really reminds me how much money I'm missing out on.” My words came off harsh. His smile faded. I wanted to kick myself.
He was the one to break the silence some seconds later, coming over and touching my shoulder lightly but surely. “It's good to see you,” he said softly.
I managed an awkward grin; and then it was all right again. He sat at the writing desk by the window while I moved around, unpacking my things.
“How long will you be here?” he asked.
I shrugged. “As long as His Highness wants me here. He expects us to find Sai within the next twenty-seven days, so probably not longer than that.”
“You're hunting for Sai again?” A little darkness came into his voice. “Why?”
“That's confidential.”
“Unusual of you to be so obedient to Touya Akira.”
That pulled me up short. “Were you always this good at pushing people's buttons?”
“Yours? Yes, always.” The words slid easily from his lips, like they had all evening. His hair was longer than he had worn it when we were novitiates. There were tiny copper studs in his ears.
“You're brilliant at your job, aren't you? No wonder they've kept you here this long.”
“It'd be a waste of human resources otherwise. It takes a long time to master the Yihian language.”
There was a low stool next to the mahogany armoire where I'd just put away my clothes. I sat there. “Did you talk to Shindou when he came to Yih last year?”
“Yes.” His face was cautious; he did not elaborate. I chose my next questions carefully.
“How was he?”
“Polite. Distracted.”
“Distracted?” The window by Isumi's head was ajar; the breeze made the magnolia print curtains billow inwards.
“I mostly spoke to Sai,” he said.
“Then he was--”
“Not quite. Almost.”
“What were they planning?”
“To get rid of the 'not quite'." He stood and paced slowly across the carpet. "To be honest, he seems essentially a kind person. Under different circumstances, we might have been friends.”
“If he was alive, you mean? Where did they go after that?”
“Shindou wouldn't tell me.”
“Is Shindou angry?”
Isumi studied my face. “He doesn't blame you, if that's what you're asking.”
I looked into his eyes. “And you?”
“Only for leaving me.”
A year ago, six months ago, the response would have been: “Only for leaving the novitiates.” Or perhaps: “Only for giving up on divination.” Now Isumi's answer hovered in the air, gentle, naked, forgiving.
I went to the balcony and watched the moon weaving in and out of the clouds. He followed me. I heard the rise and fall of his breath.
“I won't move to Wuzi.” I stared at the rickshaws wheeling in the streets below.
“I thought you mightn't.”
“I don't even know why. It's just—”
“You want to take responsibility. Even though you did the right thing.”
“I happen to think Shindou was correct! What's the point of predicting the future if you can't control it?” I spun around and he caught me by the shoulders.
“It's a long way from divination to necromancy,” he murmured, stroking my wrist with his thumb. Belatedly, I realised that I was trembling.
“Let go of me,” I said finally.
He withdrew, and left the room as gracefully as he had entered. Gripping the balustrade tightly, I scowled into the darkness.
The first thing Yang Hai did when he arrived at supper was to ruffle Le Ping's hair, prompting a yelp from the brat. Then he shook my hand.
“So you're Waya. I feel like we know each other already. Isumi talks about you all the time.”
“All unflattering, I'm sure.” He was tall, with a sun-darkened complexion, blunt features, and sleepy but shrewd eyes. His mandarin robe was of ultramarine satin, embroidered in thread the colour of robin's eggs.
I was placed between Le Ping and Touya at the dining table after Yang Hai professed a desire to see 'the twins' side by side.
The meal was exquisite, which was just as well. Halfway through our entree of quail's eggs and crisp noodles tossed in sesame oil, Yang Hai changed tack, picking on Touya instead:
“So you're the little princeling of Ki. You're prettier than I expected.'
It wasn't the sort of jibe that could be expected to perturb Touya, who merely finished chewing, and glanced back with his straight inexorable gaze. He was pretty; beautiful, in fact. “It's a privilege to meet you as well. The news of your exploits in the Yihian Ministry of Internal Affairs has preceded you."
”Would you like some wine?” Isumi deftly decanted the clear liquid into my glass without waiting for my response.
“I met your father not long ago,” Yang Hai told Touya. “He's an impressive man.”
“I'm aware of that. I did grow up with him.”
Le Ping asked for seconds. Isumi told him to wait for the main course. Le Ping eyed Touya's barely disarrayed appetiser in dismay. Touya was a small eater, and a slow one.
“I asked him why he had come to Yih," said Yang Hai. "He said he was searching for a person.”
“Did he tell you who he was seeking?”
“If I'd needed him to tell me, I wouldn't deserve my job.” Above us, the miniature chandelier flickered. Le Ping fiddled with the silverware. I debated whether I was too old to kick Isumi under the table, decided that I was, and settled for gritting my teeth at the portrait in the far corner, a monochromic woodcut of a young boy playing a biwa by a miniature stream.
Touya had stopped all pretense of eating. “Do you have something to tell me, Privy Minister? If not, I suggest that we cease trading meaningless words.”
“If you wish.” Yang Hai placed a quail's egg between his lips and swallowed it whole. “But I rather think you're the one who has questions for me. If you want me to answer them, you should start by asking.”
Touya flushed. He took a delicate sip of white wine. His skin was fair and dry, his eyes glistening with provoked temper. I watched his pride duke it out with his curiosity and lose. He finally mustered a query while the main course (tea-marinated duck, steamed cabbage, arranged on black rice) was being served. “Where did my father go?”
“I don't know.” Irritation flickered in Touya's eyes at Yang Hai's response; I wondered what would happen if a Ki State Diviner murdered a Yihian Minister. Before anything could happen, though, Yang Hai continued, "He did mention one thing before he left: that he was looking for the center of heaven. Does that mean anything to you?”
You have to assert control over the universe, if you want to suborn it.
Touya, too, caught the significance, judging by the tiny but visible contraction of his jaw.
Yang Hai said, “I would like to clear Lu Li of the charges being laid against him. Two men thousands of miles apart, both killed in empty rooms. That's not a mystery I know how to solve. Is Touya Akira capable of deciphering the heart of the puzzle?”
I set down my chopsticks with a clack against the enamel rice bowl. “Touya's not the only person in Ki interested in getting to the bottom of this, you know.”
Yang Hai snapped his fingers. “Ah, yes, I forgot that you were the hero of the Sai tribunal.”
It was then that I realised that Touya was not the only one he was trying to provoke.
Isumi apologised in the morning. “Yang Hai can be unorthodox, but he's a good person at heart.”
“He's a prat,” I snapped. Le Ping voiced assent.
“He's on our side.”
“Aren't you being a little premature in assuming that we're on the same side?” In the gray matutinal light, the interior of the consulate appeared shadowy and riotous with ornaments: jade monkeys, chryselephantine figurines. Cursive calligraphy in watery ink covered human-sized sheets of rice paper, muttering wisdom, longevity, and riches to the inhabitants of the building. Isumi stood out in stark sober contrast, dressed in taupe trousers, a pressed cotton shirt, and a moire tie.
“Then why are you here?” Isumi was hurt, now. I was too consumed with immediate and intermediate goals to consider his feelings. I needed to think.
“Where's Touya?” I asked.
From the little flicker of Isumi's eyelids, I knew that he would have preferred to segue into frank argument. But we were both dismayingly aware of Le Ping's presence. “I think he's in the reading room. He told the servants he wouldn't be coming in for breakfast.”
“I'm going to talk to him.” I scooped up the last of my congee in two efficient, impolite mouthfuls and kicked my chair back, determinedly not looking at anyone else. Isumi's sad, understanding gaze raked my back.
I found Touya sitting on a sheepskin rug in a corner of the library, slouched over a dusty leatherbound tome and surrounded by towers of many more books. Dust hung in the air; I sneezed.
Noticing my presence, he wished me a good morning. His manners had at least improved that much since we were novitiates.
“Let me guess.” I started flipping through the volumes he'd collected. “You're questing for the center of heaven.”
“Do you know anything you're not sharing with me?” His defensiveness was palpable today. Note to self: Touya Akira did have weak points. “I suppose not.”
I joined him on the rug, half-expecting him to shrink back. He did not. The book he was reading was a history of geomancy. “The Directions of Chaos and Order in Land and Air. Do you expect the tengen to be a physical location?”
“I'm not sure. But it wouldn't do us much good if it were merely a theoretical concept.”
“Well, we could always ask around, see if anyone else has a more concrete lead on where your father went off to.” I didn't voice my worry: that three months was a long time. Both Shindou and Touya Kouyou could be anywhere in the world by now.
“The tengen opening--”
“Wasn't a Sai thing at all. It was something Shindou always did. But none of Sai's divinations ever began at that point. Not even the last one, where, you know – yeah.”
“It may mean that Shindou is a more powerful Diviner than Sai is, by now.”
Dawn birdsong drifted indoors, a concatenation of caws, trills, and twittering. I laughed. “So much for your constant dismissal of Shindou when we were novitiates. I'm going to get dressed. Don't stay here too long, we need to get out and do some detecting by midmorning.”
"We?”
“I can't speak Yihian, remember? So if you want me to do any investigating, you're going to have to interpret for me. Oh, and don't forget to pull up some necromantic texts while you're still there.”
“I know what to do,” he said, prickly.
I felt irrationally delighted as I exited.
On to Chapter 6.
