Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (41 page)

I know this is the right thing to do.

Not turning from her, I take a step back. Then I go
to reach for the door handle.

That's when I hear
the bolt being slid into place and a muffled
, “who left that unlocked?”

. . .
.

No.

God no.

If I call out and
tell the soldier to jolly well unlock the door, he's going to open
it and see Yin is covered in blood. If I don't
. . . I'm trapped.

As I let the soldier walk away, it's pretty clear I'm
trapped.

I take a stumbling step backwards.

“We can't get out of
here,” I conclude with a shake.

Yin doesn't say anything.

I turn, expecting her to start sobbing again.

She doesn't, she looks at me evenly.

“. . . Yin,
we can't get out. We've been locked in,” I clarify.

She presses her lips
together
. “We can get out,” she admits
hesitantly.

“What? We can't. This
room is embedded with magical enchantments that ensure we can't
summon magic. I'm not sure if you've noticed, but that door is
thick steel. There's no tool we can fashion to bust through it.
It's . . . over. They'll find us in the morning and,” I
shudder.

“Yang, we can get
out,” she says.

“Yin, you don't
understand,” I say desperately.

S
he unfurls her hand, letting her fingers drop gracefully as
flame springs up over them.

Vibrant, flickering, hot flame.

I stare at her in disbelief.

She looks a little
sheepish as she hooks her hair over her ear
. “Ever since I was locked in here, I've been able to
conjure a little magic. But ever since . . . this
morning,” she says uncomfortably, “after . . . the fan
dance,” she clarifies with a weak voice, “I've been able to summon
just fine.”

I bring my own hand up, trying to send a jet of water
over my palm. I can't. I can feel it there, trying to come out, but
I can't force it through.

I can't stop staring at her in disbelief.

She can't stop
looking back sheepishly
. “I've been
practicing, in case I have to escape. So it comes quite handy now,
doesn't it?”

I press my lips
together and nod my head
. “How can you do
magic in here?”

With wide eyes she
stares at her hand then up to me
. “I
don't know.”

I accept her answer.
Then I stand back
. “We have to be
careful. I know you probably want to send that door ricocheting
into the wall,” I say as I point my thumb at the solid steel behind
me, “but we have to be quiet. Careful,” I say, my lips moving
wide.

I look at her as if we are engaged in training once
again. I need her to understand what I'm saying.

She
nods
. “I can probably just try to melt
the lock,” she says as she cranes her neck towards the door, “or at
least the place where it meets the wall.”

I nod. At the same time, I feel afraid and excited
and amazed.

She can do magic in a room surrounded by
enchantments.

. . .

I don't even know how that's possible. But now is not
the time to find out.

And
. . . maybe it doesn't surprise me as
much as it should. Maybe from the very moment she was placed in
this room I half wondered whether she would find a way to get out.
It's the same feeling I got when I put her to sleep with that
spell. I was expecting her to wake up, I was just waiting for
it.

“Okay, do we need to
take anything?” She looks around her room. “Not that I have much to
take.”

“We need to be light
so we can be quick,” I say. “I will get money and I will get the
bare necessities. I know enough to live off the land. Hey, you
probably do too. You were a herbalist, right?”

She
nods
. “Though I'm mostly familiar with
mountain herbs, Castor did make me read books about the
rest.”

“Okay,” I manage,
feeling amazed that I'm actually about to do this.

“Are you ready?” she
asks me through a swallow.

“Yes.” I close my
eyes and wait.

She shifts towards the door carefully, waiting,
clearly listening out to ensure no soldiers are walking by.

I start to smell smoke.

The truly acrid, powerful smell of metal burning.

It takes barely half
a minute, then I hear a creak and a groan
. “I've done it,” she says quietly.

I open my eyes to see her pull the door forward.

Then the adrenaline kicks in. The fear, the terror at
what I have to do now.

We must escape the Royal Barracks in secret.

I walk forward. I pause in the doorway, right by her
side, and I look at her.

We nod. We walk out.

As we do, I know nothing will be the same again.

Yin

So much has happened in such a short period of time.
I can't keep up. Maybe I don't have to. There's only one fact that
really matters: I trust him.

I don't know how and I don't know why, but I
completely trust him.

Okay, I do know how
and I do know why. Ever since the fan dance this morning
. . . it's as if I've really seen him
for the first time. The walls he keeps around himself can't keep me
out anymore. I can peer right into his soul.

It sounds impossible, but hey, I'm the Savior.

Though I can tell he's terrified, that doesn't stop
him. He carefully walks forward, pausing every now and then as he
waits to ensure the hallway is clear. Once or twice we have to duck
into empty rooms. I'm glad that it's dark and there are only a few
torches lit; I don't want the whole world to know that a) I'm
escaping with Captain Yang, and b) that I'm covered in blood.

The past several weeks have been some of the most
stressful in my life, yet as I flee with Yang, I'm introduced to a
new level of panic.

At any moment a soldier could come out, spot us, and
raise the alarm.

Somehow we make it through the barracks though. Yang
ducks off and gets some supplies, then we make it around to the
stables.

Though it's easy enough to make our way out of the
buildings of the barracks, the stables are different.

They are permanently guarded.

Horses, after all, are valuable.

Still, Yang decides to take a risk. He whispers at me
to trust him, and then he ducks out of where we're hiding to create
a distraction so I can escape.

Apparently, he's going to meet me out on the street
after he secures a horse.

My heart is no longer beating at one million miles an
hour; the pace with which it rips through my chest is one that's
not quantifiable. I may have fought numerous battles, and Castor
may have trained me to embrace risk when I have to, but this is
different.

I feel as if I have so much to lose. Not just my
freedom, not just Yang's, but my destiny. If I step wrong, and we
are captured, presumably Garl will follow through on his threat. He
will kill me, possibly taking Castor and my village with me.

If he kills me, he can say good-bye to this age and
the next. There will be no one to hold the Night back.

With that kind of pressure pressing down on me, I use
every technique I know of to control my fear.

Then I listen and wait as Yang straightens up his
armor and marches towards the closest soldier.

“I need a horse,” he
says flatly, “prepare one for me now.”

“Yes, sir. Though
. . .” the soldier trails off.

I can't see his face, but right now I would give
anything to see his expression.

Why is he hesitating? Is he suspicious? Has Garl
already put the word out against Yang?

“I don't have time to
wait around,” Yang says tersely. “I am on a very important mission
for the Princess herself.”

“Yes, sir,” the
soldier says.

Then I hear him scurrying off, his heavy boots
scuffing against the dirt floor of the stables.

Placing a hand on my chest, I actually wince.

“No, not that
horse—the fastest one we have,” I hear Yang say as he marches off
after the soldier.

Then silence, or relative silence.

I force myself to peer out of where I'm hiding.

I have completely put
to rest the possibility that Yang is tricking me somehow. After our
fan dance this morning, I feel that if he ever tried to trick me
again, I would know. Not by rea
ding his
expression or the timbre of his voice—I would just know. His
emotions are open to me, and I can read them as easily as any
scroll.

So I don't hesitate.

When I see an opportunity, I trust in Yang, and I
dart forward.

Keeping low, I'm careful not to let my footfall
scrabble. The last thing I need is for the guard attending Yang to
hear some suspicious noise and come running.

So I use my trusty sandals to dampen my footfall as I
race forward.

In that moment I am more than thankful that I have a
natural affinity for animals. It would be quite easy for somebody
to disturb the horses as they scamper along the ground, sweat
dripping from their brow, their fear arcing out in waves.

For me, however, though the horses look at me in
interest, none of them make a noise.

I smile. It's small and it's a mostly bitter move,
but it's still there.

I'm doing something. I'm finally escaping.

I make it to the great big door at the back of the
stables.

I reach a hand out to it, then I notice it's
locked.

Right now I could tip my head back and swear like a
soldier.

Instead, I dart backwards quickly, and assess my
environment.

I can't afford
to
elicit any suspicion, not while Yang's
back there with the soldier.

If the two of them come out when they are finished
only for the soldier to see the back door hanging wide open, it's
going to start a panic, and Yang could be drawn into that.

I have to make this as seamless and quiet as
possible.

So I take a step back, twisting on the spot, and I
see a set of windows built high into the top of the stables.

There are only several sheer walls leading up to
them, and no normal man would be able to scale the distance.

But I'm not normal, and I'm not a man.

Pushing forward, and reaching out to the horse in the
stable next to me, it voluntarily comes closer and nuzzles its head
into my arm. Patting it quickly along the back, I don't hesitate as
I push up and jump onto its back.

Then, with a silent command, I instruct it to move
closer to the wall.

It does.

Standing on the back of the horse, careful not to let
my shoes dig hard into its back, I reach up, jump lightly, and
manage to grab hold of the window.

Forcing them open, I roll through the tiny gap, and
make it to the outside, gripping my feet on the wall just as I hear
people moving inside the stables.

Then Yang's voice
filters out
. “Hurry up and open the back
doors,” he says, a note of stress twisting through his tone. “Why
are they closed anyway?”

“New decree, Sir.
General Garl has increased the security of the barracks. He feels
. . . some kind of attack is imminent.”

“. . . I
see,” Yang manages. “Very good. The general always knows what he
speaks of.”

“Yes, sir, he does,”
the soldier says automatically.

Though I hang there on the outside of the window
listening, I now let myself fall.

Though I'm quite far up, when I hit the ground, I do
so with the lightest of rolls, coming up onto my feet and darting
forward with ease.

Thankfully it's a dark night, and though there are
various torches around, only a few of them are lit.

I stay deep into the shadows.

But just as I'm racing forward, I hear footfall from
behind. It's not Yang and his horse; it's coming from around the
building.

Heavy, with the distinct grate of armored boots, I
realize it's more soldiers.

Staring around with wide eyes, I note there is
nothing to hide behind.

I'm completely in the open.

But it is a very dark night.

Without thinking, I spread my fingers out wide, close
my eyes, and command every torch to go out.

“What the heck? Why
is it so dark around here? Did Cao forget to light the lamps again?
The general is going to kill him,” I hear one of the soldiers
say.

I take the opportunity, and I run.

As fast as I can, as low to the ground as possible,
and as silently as I can manage.

Though I've never been behind the barracks, I keep to
a narrow alleyway until I find myself along what must be some main
street.

It's well lit, and there are people milling
about.

Instinctively I tuck my arms close to my chest, not
only making myself a smaller target, but hiding the blood along my
tunic.

The smell of food fills the air, and it instantly
makes my stomach rumble. Though the Royal Army has been feeding me,
if you could call it that, I long for some real sustenance.

Castor, among other things, is a fantastic cook. From
hotpots to fruit preserves, there was always something to eat, and
it was always delicious.

But I can't afford to
dart forward and grab one of the
tantalizing pancakes or freshly squeezed juices from the
stalls around me.