Butterfly Swords. Jeannie Lin

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. ‘I’ll take the floor.’

      The bed was made of wooden slats covered with a thin, padded mattress. She made a face at the ash-coloured quilt lying rumpled upon it. The thread was worn bare in spots and marked with dark stains.

      ‘I think I would rather take the floor.’

       Chapter Four

      Ailey watched from the alley as two of Li Tao’s soldiers strode into the stable the next morning. She berated herself for not dropping an extra silver coin to convince the stableman to keep quiet. But what did she know about bribery and double-dealings?

      ‘Time to think of another plan,’ Ryam muttered from behind her.

      She reached down to pull the butterfly swords free. The weight of the steel emboldened her as she headed in the opposite direction. ‘We’ll leave on foot before Li Tao’s men can assemble.’

      Ryam caught up to her. ‘Put those away. Having your weapon drawn only invites trouble.’

      She hesitated, but did as he said. He had experience surviving among strangers. That held more weight than all her hours in the practice yard. They hovered in the alleyway at the edge of the central market. Merchants had set up their stalls in the square and the morning crowd gathered. A cluster of soldiers prowled the plaza in their black-and-red uniforms. They scanned the market without particular interest. It seemed that no one had yet reported her presence.

      Ryam gestured towards several workmen loading earthenware pots onto a wagon. ‘That shipment is leaving town. Get in the back.’

      ‘But Li Tao’s men are everywhere.’

      ‘Walk with purpose. You’ll blend in.’

      ‘What about you?’ She looked him up and down.

      His fingers tightened briefly over her shoulder. ‘You go first. I’ll be watching.’

      Were all his people so fearless? Taking a deep breath, she stepped out from the cover of the shops. Sunlight slanted over the rooftops and blinded her, but she kept her pace steady even though her heartbeat thundered in her ears. If Li Tao’s men detected her, she might be able to fend off two or three of them, but the rest would surround her. Ryam would be dragged into the struggle.

      She fought the urge to glance back. She had wanted to warn him to leave if there was trouble, but he would have considered it an insult. A swordsman would never run like that. The workmen disappeared into the storehouse as she came near. She climbed onto the wagon and ducked beneath the canvas. The coarse packing straw scraped against her.

      The next moments stretched out before her as she crouched in the darkness. There were wooden crates on either side of her and she tried to burrow between them. The shuffle of the market droned on outside. At any moment, the shouting would begin. The soldiers would spot Ryam and they’d circle him like wolves. She closed a hand around the hilt of her sword. If he was discovered, she’d have to help him. She was certain he’d do the same for her. He had done the same for her.

      What was taking so long? Would he abandon her now? Just as she reached out to lift the covering, Ryam slipped under. He nudged the crates aside to shove out a spot for himself.

      ‘Heaven and earth! How did you get past them?’ she asked.

      ‘They do call me ghost man, after all.’

      She wanted to throw her arms around him, but his elbow poked into her ribs and her leg was crushed against one of the pots. They went still at the sound of voices from outside. The workmen came back to load more crates and she didn’t dare move or breathe or even blink. She sighed with relief when the wagon finally lurched forwards.

      The clay pots rattled around them as the wagon rumbled along the road. They attempted to rearrange themselves and Ryam bit back an oath as her knuckles struck him across his nose.

      ‘I’ll look outside,’ he said after they had travelled a distance away.

      He picked his way through the crates. A sliver of light cut through the darkness as he lifted the canvas.

      ‘No one’s following.’ He let it fall back down.

      ‘Do you know where we are?’

      ‘That way is north to Changan.’ He indicated with his thumb. ‘We’re headed south.’

      Deeper into the warlord’s territory. ‘We need to get out of here. They’ll start searching the roads soon.’

      ‘There are woods to the right. We can jump and run for it.’

      ‘Let me see.’

      She crawled over his knees to peek out at the roadside. The area he spoke of wasn’t far, just beyond a stretch of wild grass.

      ‘Jump and run?’ she asked.

      He nodded. ‘Jump and run. The grass will break the fall.’

      The driver handled his team of horses, oblivious to them. She lifted the cover and crouched low, preparing herself. With a deep breath, she launched herself away from the wagon. Her knees buckled against the hard ground and a shock of pain streaked up her legs. Before she knew it, she was rolling in a blur of grass and sky.

      She ended on her back, gasping for breath. Sharp stones dug into her spine and she tried to remain as still as possible. If she moved, she might shatter to pieces.

      A moment later, Ryam’s head and shoulders blocked the sky above her. ‘Are you all right?’

      Miserably, she shook her head no.

      ‘Is anything broken?’

      Everything felt broken. It hurt to breathe. She wriggled her fingers and made a face. ‘I don’t think so.’

      ‘Good. Come on.’ He hoisted her to her feet.

      Her knees protested as she staggered through the wild grass, but she ignored the pain and struggled to keep up with Ryam. As soon as they cleared the tree line, she collapsed to the ground. He crouched beside her and lifted her arm gingerly, inspecting the broad scrape on her elbow. In the last two days she had suffered more bruises than in all her sparring matches. Mother would scold for days if she ever made it home.

      ‘The grass … did not … break the fall,’ she accused.

      His face broke into a wide grin. ‘Tough girl.’

      ‘I have five—four brothers.’

      His clear eyes held on to her as if he would never turn away. No man had ever looked at her like that.

      ‘Do you need a minute?’

      He stroked her cheek with his thumb and everything became brighter. His mouth was so, so close and her throat went completely dry.

      ‘N-no. We should go.’ She struggled to stand, but her knees hadn’t stopped shaking.

      He offered his hand to help her to her feet. His fingers combed lightly through hers, but immediately let go when she stiffened beside him. She was left standing at a loss, covered in dirt from head to toe. She swiped at a strand of loose hair, but it swung defiantly back in front of her face.

      ‘Are you still planning to go all the