Butterfly Swords. Jeannie Lin

step as light as possible. Midway, a board creaked beneath her feet. Ryam muttered a curse as the voices halted down below. He gave her a small push.

      ‘Run!’

      They bolted down the stairs and through the door, abandoning any attempt at stealth. She took off around the corner and ducked into an alcove. Ryam shoved himself in beside her. They both held still, pressed against the brick. When it was clear that no one was following, she doubled over, gasping for breath.

      ‘We’d make very bad thieves.’

      She looked up to see Ryam grinning. He had a good spirit. She laughed, caught up in it. Part of her couldn’t help but enjoy this adventure.

      Once her breathing returned to normal, she poked her head around the enclosure. The streets had emptied in the late afternoon and the sounds of the market faded. Ryam emerged first, surveying the area before pulling her behind him. He shielded her as they ventured forwards. The protective gesture made her want to press even closer. She didn’t have much experience with cities. She definitely had no knowledge of the back alleys they were navigating. Most of her life had been spent in her family home nestled in the mountains, surrounded by family and household servants.

      ‘Where is it that you came from?’ she asked.

      ‘The other end of the world.’

      ‘You seem to have been here for a long time.’

      ‘Years and years.’ His answers became noticeably clipped when he spoke of his past.

      ‘We have a name for your land. We call it “Ta Chin”, the Great Empire of the West.’

      ‘I don’t come from any great empire.’

      She frowned.

      ‘That empire you speak of no longer exists. Our kingdom—what was our kingdom—is a small one compared to this empire.’

      The journey across the silk routes was said to be a treacherous one. If she only had the time to ask all the questions she wanted to. He must have amazing stories to tell.

      ‘Are you part of the lost legion?’ she asked. ‘The wandering soldiers they speak about?’

      He didn’t answer immediately. ‘I suppose I am.’ He cast a sideways glance at her. ‘Your people do love their legends.’

      His smile made her pulse skip. He was different and mysterious, and curiosity made her bold. Bold enough to kiss a man she barely knew. She was suddenly out of breath. Her mind kept falling like water down the mountainside back to that moment.

      ‘They say those swordsmen marched on Changan during the palace rebellion. Were you with them?’ she continued.

      This time his hesitation was obvious. ‘Maybe the less we know about each other’s stories, the better.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      He halted to turn to her. ‘The rest of the empire is not as tolerant as you towards unwashed barbarians.’

      She stared at the coppered spots where the sun had darkened his cheeks and the rugged growth of his beard. It was a face unlike any she’d ever known.

      ‘I don’t think of you as an unwashed barbarian,’ she said softly.

      He started to speak, but stopped. The intensity of his gaze made her shift uncomfortably. ‘We need to get you to Changan as fast as possible,’ he said. ‘And then I need to disappear.’

      As if to make a point, he forged ahead in long strides that left no room for conversation. She couldn’t deny what he was saying. The empire had become fearful and suspicious. No one trusted anyone in the capital, let alone outsiders. She hated living with that dark cloud always over her.

      At the end of the passage, Li Tao’s proclamation had been pasted on the wall. She tore down one paper. Ryam stared over her shoulder at the black brushstrokes.

      ‘What does all that say?’

      So he couldn’t read the characters. That was fortunate. She didn’t know how he would react if he discovered who she truly was.

      ‘Li Tao is offering a reward of a hundred taels of silver for my return.’

      He whistled. ‘The man must be as rich as the Emperor.’

      With a scowl, she crumpled the paper into a tight ball and tossed it aside.

      Ryam wove a path through the alleys with Ailey close behind. He had never been this deep within the borders before, but the change was noticeable even to a foreigner. The regional armies were wary. Soldiers were authorised to confiscate weapons and imprison anyone they thought was a threat.

      They would need to stay off the main roads from here all the way to the capital. He had travelled for the last month in hiding, sleeping beneath bridges and seeking refuge in remote monasteries when they would let him. But he was responsible for Ailey’s safety now as well. Having a woman with him made things more difficult.

      He ducked through a broken section of the wall.

      ‘How do you know where we are going?’ she asked.

      ‘These towns are all the same once you’ve been to enough of them.’

      Vice lurked in the forgotten corners of any city of this size. Hideouts for smugglers, thieves, and citizens who wanted to escape into anonymity for the evening. He knew he had found their destination the moment they emerged in front of a dingy building tucked into a dead end. Red lanterns swayed from the eaves.

      Ailey stopped short. ‘Is this a brothel?’

      ‘No. Let me see your money.’

      She kept her eyes on the shadowed figure perched just inside the doorway as she handed the purse to him. He picked out several coins and then untied his cloak.

      ‘Put this on and stay close,’ he instructed.

      The flash of silver was enough to get them past the guard. Once inside, the entrance hall glowed with the gritty light of oil lamps and pipe smoke. Ryam pushed through the beaded curtain and the strands clinked and slid around them. The shuttered windows of the main room cast it into perpetual night-time. Copper coins changed hands from one huddled figure to another at the tables.

      Ailey pulled his cloak tight around her and inched closer to him. Ivory and wooden dice clinked into porcelain bowls and the low hum of conversation did not rise the slightest at their arrival. The gamblers looked up with casual disinterest as Ryam and Ailey passed by. After a brief glance, the betting resumed. A man could be tattooed as a criminal and still show his face in a den like this.

      An ancient-looking man with a white beard that tapered to a point sat in the far corner, surrounded by cronies. One of them blocked Ryam’s path when he came forwards. The den master continued to sip his tea, staring at the bottom of the cup as if contemplating something profound.

      ‘A room,’ Ryam said, handing over the two coins.

      The den master glanced once at the silver and pointed a bony finger to the stairs. With a nod of thanks, Ryam ushered Ailey across the floor and up the steps. He pushed the first door open just as a man stumbled past with a woman in a flowery robe on his arm. Her cloyingly sweet perfume wafted into the narrow space of the hallway before the couple disappeared into the adjacent room. Ryam tugged Ailey into their chamber and, within minutes, faint moans and an unmistakable pounding came from the other side of the wall.

      Ailey threw back her hood and planted her hands onto her hips. ‘Are you certain it’s safe here?’

      ‘Yes.’ He shut the door and dragged a chair to block it. ‘A place like this doesn’t care about silver if it means contact with authorities.’

      Ailey stared at the bare walls in dismay. She wrapped her arms around herself, sticking them close to her sides as if not wanting to touch anything. ‘I’ll trust your judgement.’

      ‘You take the bed,’ he said.