The blood-red moon illuminated Isao's path as he and Khalem pushed their horses, into a gallop, hard and fast and parallel to the highway.

Celty still clung to Isao, and he was glad for the cover of darkness, grateful she wouldn’t see his blush or feel the strange thrumming of his heart with her so near.

He’d never been so close to a woman. Never had one been allowed to touch him, and certainly not so intimately.

Being near her warm body, even though it was one belonging to a total stranger, made the tension slowly ease out of him. Despite the rampant thud of the horse’s hooves, Isao could have sworn he felt the beats of Celty’s heart.

Isao kept his gaze trained ahead, picking the best route for his horse and attempting not to be aware of the girl holding onto his back. He thought of his father, and the burning of their city. He wondered when they would bring the horses to a stop.

He only looked back once – to see the distant blaze on the horizon – before turning back around.

Khalem never looked back once, but that was how Khalem worked: Always onward. Never looking back. Never helping those who could prove to be a dangerous distraction.

No, Isao thought, shaking his head, Celty was trustworthy. He could feel it. She hadn’t invited herself. Hadn’t even wanted to come, in fact. And had almost died.

They rode hard for another twenty minutes, and the horses began to tire.

“Khalem!” Isao cried finally. “We need to stop!”

“Not yet, my young Sheng. They may have tracked us. They could be following. We need to head south, and find a safe place to stop,” the General called over his shoulder, lifting one hand in a gesture. “There is nothing here.”

“The horses are tiring.”

Khalem hesitated, then loosened the reins, allowing his horse to slow into a loose canter. Isao did the same.

The animal’s deep breaths ceased, and the froth in their mouths diminished, despite the still rapid clip.

Another fifteen minutes passed. For the first time that night, Khalem glanced back. Seeming satisfied by what he did, or did not, see, he pulled on the reins.

The horses slowed to a trot. Khalem leaned forward, murmuring under his breath as he patted his horse’s flank. Both steeds slowed to a walk.

“When do we turn back around?” Isao asked. “How long do we have to wait? If we go any farther, we’ll never be able to go back and help.”

“There is no going back, Isao.”

Rage coursed through the prince’s veins. No going back? They were just supposed to let his father, and all of the castle, DIE at the hands of traitors? That couldn't be their plan.

"What?" he snapped. "What do you mean, ‘we aren't going back?’"

"We are not going back."

"I would never have come if I knew that!"

"I know."

Isao fumed, hating himself for his naiveté. Surely anyone but a sheltered prince would have known instinctively that they weren't fleeing for only a few hours. He should have known that.

Isao bit the inside of his cheek to keep from yelling.

"It's too risky," Khalem said, eyeing him from the corner of his eye. "Too much could go wrong."

"But my father!"

Khalem shot him a cold glance. "Your father will not die, young Sheng. He is the Emperor of Marugan and the great hero of the Horat-Vu war. He can take care of himself without you there to fight for him. Don't insult him."

Isao's nostrils flared. "I never thought you to be a coward, Khalem," he bit out.

"It is not cowardice to save ourselves. You, Isao, are now the most important person in the Empire. They'll know that you escaped, and everyone will be trying to track you down to kill you."

"It's not right. I should be there helping my people fight. The city of An Wan was burning! Even if I can't save my father, perhaps I could save some of the people! Didn't you teach me how to lead? Didn't you teach me how to fight? How to evade?" He clenched the reins with a white-knuckled grip. "And now I'm running…like a coward."

"You are the only hope for the Empire!" Khalem barked. "Do not insult me, for I have taken direct orders from your father. He commanded me to take you and flee. To keep you alive on this bloody night. My first duty is to serve him without question and without fault. It is my duty. This is my life."

Isao silenced, buffeted by equal parts rage and shame. What kind of leader fled at the first sign of trouble? How could he be the only hope for the Empire?

None of it made sense, and attempting to figure it out only made his head spin. He swallowed, his throat still raw from all the smoke. He longed for a cool drink of water. He longed to speak with his father. Gain his sage advice, his reassuring words.

But none of that would be possible for some time.

"Now," Khalem said, his voice calm, "we continue on our current path until we find some place safe enough for us to regroup and make a new plan. The horses will need rest, and so will we."

Another long silence fell, broken only by the clop of the horses. Celty didn’t shift a muscle behind Isao. She seemed unnaturally still and calm, as if she'd never been frightened before, and Isao envied her even temperament.

He schooled himself back into control. Yet, no matter how hard he fought to control his thoughts, to breathe through his rage, there remained a sadness that refused to fade.

"Why did this happen, Khalem?" he asked, not even realizing the question was there until it came out. He hated himself for sounding like a little boy, but he couldn't hide the despair. "Why was the Ameya clan attacking? Why the Nari?"

"Hatred is the strongest poison."

"Who could hate us so much?"

Khalem sighed, his barrel chest lifting and falling. For the first time that night, something like regret softened his hard features.

"Hatred has many catalysts, young Sheng. It most often starts with a lust for power, or a deep-rooted envy that takes over one's life. In the Nari clan, however, it likely began with the thirst for revenge."

"Revenge?"

"Your father killed a member of the Nari clan during the Horat-Vu war. A man named Wu. The Naris have been resentful ever since. I think they fostered their vindictiveness for years, until it became too strong to control. I may be wrong – they may just be a power-hungry people – but it often goes so much deeper than that."

Isao's shoulders slumped. "Oh. I . . . I didn't know about that."

"Your father never liked speaking about the Horat-Vu war."

"No, he didn't."

A pang struck Isao's heart. He hoped he still had time to discuss it with his father later, after all of this settled down. He wondered, for a brief flash, what Celty thought of all this, but decided against asking her. He had a feeling that her wild spirit didn't care much about details such as this. She didn't seem like the type of girl to hold deep alliances to political factions, and certainly no slave had the time or free ability to do so.

"One day I will tell you more," Khalem said. "But for now, there's no time for memories, only focus and concentration. If we want to hide our trail better, we need to move away from the main path. If I'm correct, there's a stream not far away. We will have the horses walk through that for a while, just in case."

Isao nodded once, grateful to turn the lead over to Khalem. He wasn't surprised that Khalem didn't explain more; it wasn't like him to remove his focus from the immediate goal. Isao had once found this quality in the General nearly intolerable, but tonight he derived deep comfort from it: If he had to be running with anyone, he would want it to be Khalem.

"I have an idea for a place to go," Khalem said. "We'll need to decide soon if we're going to do so."

"What is it?" Isao asked.

"We could ask the support of the Ular clan in the nation of Isan. They are the White Snake clan, as you know, and their ruler is Juben Ular. He’s a longtime friend of your father; they were like brothers. I'm certain he will help us without question."

A warm wave of hope rippled through Isao, giving him a moment's reprieve from the pressing hopelessness. He knew Juben. He would help.

"Yes," Isao murmured. "His first born son is Kamon. We used to play together as children, when the clan rulers met in the capital for meetings and ceremonies. I know they will honor that friendship and bond."

Khalem shifted in his seat, grimacing when he moved his right shoulder. "There's only one problem."

"Oh?"

"Ular’s city, Havin, is far from here. We have to proceed toward the southeastern border of Sunsan and then cross the Shonin Mountain Pass."

Celty perked up. "Ah," she drawled. "The cannibal pass."

Khalem sent her a glare. "Don't be dramatic."

"What is this?" Isao asked. "What cannibals?"

Although he couldn't see her, Isao thought he could feel her grin.

"The Shonin Mountain Pass is notorious for several things," she said. "It's very rocky, with hard terrain and high cliffs. Not exactly an ideal ground to pass through. Worse than that, however, are the rumors of cannibals that live there. A fierce tribe of them, I hear. The slaves used to speak about them all the time. No one goes there unless they have to. Terrifying, really, to imagine another human feasting on your flesh."

A light trill flowed from her voice, as if she delighted in such a macabre story.

Isao shuddered. As if this night could get any worse. "I don't like the sound of that, Khalem," he murmured. "Cannibals should not be something we have to worry about."

Khalem lifted a hand. "Don't worry, my young Sheng. Legends. Rumors. Tall tales created by slaves who have nothing else to speak of,” he sneered. “You know how impressionable slaves can be. We shouldn't be concerned with cannibals when we have more reason to fear the mountain itself."

Celty shrugged and leaned back in the saddle.

Isao’s back felt cold without her warmth against it.

"I will not be stopped by a mountain," Isao said. "If my father and my people must fight for their lives, we will fight also for ours. Let us go on."

"What about me?" Celty asked. "Where shall I go?"

He turned in his saddle with a smile. "You are free now. You can do whatever you want. Come with us or go on your own adventure."

Her brow furrowed. She frowned. "Free?"

"Yes. Free."

"But…you saved my life. I have to repay you. At the very least, I can help the two of you reach your destination to fill my debt."

Khalem turned, a scowl etched deep in his face. "My young Sheng, such is not wise. We know nothing about her, but she knows everything about you."

"Not everything," she mumbled.

Khalem ignored her words. "She knows who you are. She has the power to betray us for a fistful of Hana. I say we leave her right here. She's strong." He glanced over her with a haughty gaze that nearly set Isao's blood on fire. "She'll figure it out."

Isao used all of the lessons in leadership he'd been taught over the years to school his emotions back under control. He had to give the General reason to trust him – and her.

"I disagree, General. I see nothing but sincerity in her eyes. She won't betray us. She'd be a fool to even try. No handful of Hana could get her as far in life as having me in her debt for assistance." He spun around in the saddle again, and was startled to find hints of softness in her eyes as she gazed into his. "What is your name?"

She hesitated, her gaze flickering to Khalem and then back. "Celty."

"Just Celty?"

She shrugged. "I guess. It's the only name I was ever called as a slave."

"Isao. Isao Hiwan," he said with a growing smile. He spread one arm, gesturing between him and Khalem. "Welcome to our small but humble group. For my part, you are most welcome. You and Khalem can agree to ignore each other. That may be for the best right now."

Khalem snorted, peeling his horse away several paces.

"Enough of this," Khalem muttered. "We must ride through the night for as long as possible. We won't rest until we've reached the slope of the pass. Then we'll give the horses a chance to recover and move again. Pushing hard now will save us a day's journey."

Once Khalem turned away, Isao winked at Celty before facing forward again.

* * *

The stark, snowy slopes of the Shonin Pass appeared as mere hills hours later.

With their target looming ahead of them, they continued through the night, remaining quiet except for simple commands here and there, stopping only to allow the horses to drink, get a few moments’ rest, and resume again. Whenever the horses left the pitiful streambeds that occasionally popped into their path, Khalem would stop, track back, and cover the hoofprints in the dirt for a span.

While they rode, Isao watched the mountains grow ever closer, his mind reeling.

They seemed a mighty boundary – one that, once passed, he felt he may never return from again. The thought sent a shudder of fear through him. But surely, whatever lay there couldn't worse than what lay behind.

Night shifted toward morning when they arrived at the bottom of the mountain. A reddish color illuminated the mist that clung to the slope, creating an eerie crimson glow. Something out of a nightmare.

Khalem pulled the horses aside at a small lake at the beginning of the slope.

"Rest," he said, sliding off the horse. "You'll need your energy. We still have a long way to go."

Isao's weary legs landed on the ground first. He reached up to offer Celty a hand, but she slid free on the other side, blithely avoiding the offer. He led his horse to the water, where it drank greedily. He squatted next to it, his legs trembling, and filled the empty canteen attached to the saddle. The water trickled down his throat in a reassuring, cool stream.

Once everyone finished drinking, Khalem took both horses and tied them to a nearby tree behind a thick grove. He swept their tracks free again, then nodded.

"Sleep," he said. "We are all exhausted. The horses need to rest, and so do we. We'll start tomorrow. Tonight, it is too dangerous."

Grateful for the reprieve, Isao lay on the ground, an arm beneath his head. He heard the rustle of Celty settling nearby as she rested her back up against the trunk of a tree.

Within moments, Isao dropped into the warm darkness of sleep.

* * *

The morning dawned with the gentle twitter of birds.

Isao's eyes flew open. He jerked upright, heart racing, as he sought the Nari enemies who had plagued his dreams.

A pair of rich eyes and silky black hair filled his vision. His heart slowed. He pulled in a deep breath. "Celty," he greeted.

She sat only a few steps away, her arms wrapped around her knees. He groaned, sore everywhere from the fight at the stable and the long ride.

"Bad dreams?" she asked, her eyes bright in the early morning light.

He wiped off his brow with the back of one arm. "Something like that."

"Feel better?"

He paused, taking inventory of his body. He was still sore, but the rest had given him more energy. Although their future was full of bleak prospects, nothing seemed quite as devastating in the sunlight of a new day. Dawn had banished the strange bloody moon, wiping away all its ill effects.

"Yes," he said. "Better."

She managed a small smile, then turned away.

Khalem appeared just as Isao stood up to stretch his taut muscles, enjoying the long pull and deep burn. He nodded once. "Young Sheng."

"Khalem. Good morning. Thank you for bringing me to safety last night, and for helping me to see what was best."

"My pleasure, Isao."

Having that apology off his chest made Isao breathe a bit deeper. He'd been fraught with terrifying emotions last night. Khalem had handled him precisely how he should have, and his admiration for the man increased.

Khalem stopped, studying him. A thoughtful expression marred his face. "Everything will be fine, young Sheng. I am with you. Together, we can take you to safety."

"I'm not worried for myself, Khalem. My father, on the other hand, has me very worried." Isao cast a long glance back in the direction they from which came. "My people. They didn't deserve what happened last night. I still . . . I still feel selfish for leaving."

"We did the best thing we could have done. We followed your father's orders."

Isao struggled to give him a smile. "Yes, of course, Khalem. But it's hard to appreciate when I understand so little." His brow furrowed. He shook his head, but it didn't help clear the thoughts. "The Nari clan. They . . . They would kill so many innocents simply because my father killed a man named Wu?"

"It's a long story."

Isao glanced at the sun overhead. "We have a few hours to pass before it's safe to leave."

Khalem sighed, then motioned to the ground. "Fine. I will tell you. It started a long time ago, back when all clans were reunited under Emperor Saemon by the sacred Saran. Their intent was to defeat the despicable Shuran clan."

"Spider Clan," Celty hissed. She lay back on the ground, peering into the treetops.

Khalem's nostrils flared, but this time he didn't ignore her. "Yes. The spiders."

"I know this already," Isao said, waving a hand. "The old Baran used to tell it to me all the time when he read from the sacred scrolls."

Khalem lifted one eyebrow. "Then you know that the spiders corrupted their own souls using the evil magic of darkness."

"Yes. Eventually they were destroyed by their own madness."

"The Horat-Vu war was fought to defeat them. In the end, their own madness did that. After that, Iskawan was created for a city-prison. It houses the perpetrators of those who commit horrible sins."

"And Wu? What had he done?"

Khalem lifted his shoulders. "I don't know that. But as I said earlier, hatred can be born of envy. In this cause, Wu allowed his soul to be destroyed because he wasn't chosen by our sacred priestess."

"Ah," Isao murmured. "I see."

"Wu couldn't accept this. The Nari clan is very arrogant – always think they're better than everyone, especially as rulers. As if no one else can be intelligent or educated or wise or strong." He spat. "Pah. Fools. They make their own graves."

Or ours, Isao thought.

"When the Hiwan clan was chosen to be the Imperial Clan and command the Empire, the Naris only reluctantly accepted. They've never been happy about it since."

Isao's mind spun back, recalling how all the Naris acted during the wedding celebration. Azuma had showed such hubris. Yuna had seemed strangely sneaky. But not Ren. Ren had been far too frightened. Naive, even. He'd seen no deception in her innocent eyes.

"But Ren," he murmured. "She didn't appear like that at all."

"She's different, my young Sheng. I knew it right away. A fish out of water, that one. Something about her isn't the same."

"How did Wu react when the Hiwan clan was chosen?"

Khalem's expression darkened. "Very insubordinate. During one of the hottest battles in the Valley of Ming, he ignored direct military orders and took matters into his own hands. His decision exposed the entire army to danger. Thanks to his choice, many men died. As a result, Saemon sentenced him to death." He snorted. "As he rightfully should have."

Isao sucked in a sharp breath. "Steep punishment."

Khalem's eyes showed no mercy. "Deserved. Wu invoked his rights and asked for a Dvanda."

Celty chuckled from behind them. Isao glanced back, but her face had fallen back into a serene expression. She turned, brow furrowed. "Dvanda?" she asked.

"A deadly duel between two clan members," Isao said. "Some may know it as the Duel of the Righteous. It's supposed to cleanse them in the eyes of the deities. Wu lost the duel to my father, I take it?" Isao asked.

Khalem nodded. "Saemon won. Wu's brother – Danjuro, the current ruler of the Nari clan – had to watch his brother die. He couldn't fight back, as everything had proceeded according to the rules. The Nari clan repudiated Wu and swore loyalty to Saemon. Thankfully, the war ended, but apparently their hatred remained. From then on, the Naris have always hated us."

Isao’s thoughts were troubled. So many people dead now, simply because of a lost duel stemming from one man's poor decision and lust for power.

"That," Khalem said, "is when all of this mess really started."

Khalem grabbed a nearby canteen and headed back to the lake, running his fingers down his horse’s flank as he passed.

Isao stretched his neck, only to see Celty kneeling in the dirt, pine needles piled up around her knees and head tilted back toward the sun’s rays. Her hands danced, building on top of each other. Dirt clenched in each hand trickled out through her fingers as she swung her hands around and created interlocking circles with them.

Isao stilled in place. For a moment, Celty's innocent gestures inspired thoughts in Isao of Ren.

He shuffled closer, moving one careful step at a time, until he stood only a few steps away. He waited, arms folded, and leaned against a tree.

Celty continued for several more minutes, murmuring under her breath as she moved her hands. The only words he could make out were Suryan and Jin. When she stopped, her eyes flew open, instantly locking on his.

"I've heard those words before," he said. "During a funeral chant for Suryan. Have you lost someone close to you?"

"The young boy back at the stables."

"The one beneath the horse?"

A pained expression wrinkled her brow, and she turned away. "Yes. He was my only friend. The only one who really cared. And he was innocent. Goro, his uncle, deserved that death and more, but not Jin. He died in your war."

The word struck him right in the chest.

"Watch your mouth, woman!" Khalem roared from only a few steps behind Isao. "He's royalty, you foolish – "

"Khalem, please."

Isao held up a hand, and Khalem sputtered to a stop.

"Celty is a free woman now. Her words are dictated by her grief. Don’t make it worse. Allow her to mourn the tragic loss of her friend. Wasn't this one of my father's greatest teachings?"

"Jin was innocent," Celty snapped at Khalem. "Young. Full of life. He was brave, too. He tried to protect me when Goro beat me. Which is more than some can boast."

Khalem's expression soured, but Celty continued before he could say anything in his own defense. She held up her arms, highlighting the bruises and abrasions left there by the ropes.

"Jin brought me water. He was different. And now, because he was too scared to leave, he's dead. I'm praying for his soul, that's all."

Isao reached out to put a hand on her shoulder and comfort her, but she jerked away, teeth clenched.

Khalem turned, muttering, and strode away.

"It was my Yodon's fault," she hissed, rage infusing her voice. "He owned me. A slave owner. He owned me, a human. These are the kinds of things that happen to people who are slaves. People who are forced to do things just because nobles want them."

Isao gently took one of her wrists in his hands, inspecting the marred skin there. It went far deeper than just bruising and scratching. Beneath the fresh injuries he could see scars from previous times.

This hadn't been her first time tied up. Her life threatened. At the mercy of a slave owner, or worse.

"Celty," he murmured, brushing the tip of his thumb across her wounds. Goosebumps rose on the girl’s skin. "I'm sorry this happened to you. It's wrong. I promise you that I will erase all forms of slavery when I am Sheng in the Empire."

Her lips closed. She stared at him with a strangely open gaze, a slight wrinkle in between her fine eyebrows. She swallowed and pulled her hand free. Isao knelt down, ripping a piece of his robe off in a long strip.

"Here," Isao said, gently wrapping the fabric around the still raw skin.

Celty stepped back, but didn't withdraw her hand. Her intense gaze bore into him. Her breath hitched.

The sound of clomping feet drew both of them away. Celty stepped back as Khalem approached with both horses saddled, and his jaw tight.

"My young Sheng, it's time for us to get started again. We can use the afternoon hours to get through the worst of the day. Today will be very challenging, but we can hit the worst parts in the cool of the evening. It will help."

Isao nodded, dropping Celty’s arm. "I understand. But one last question, Celty. You said that you had a bad feeling that something was going to happen. What does that mean?"

Celty shrugged. "I perceived that something was wrong the past couple of days. I don't know how to explain it, I just . . . I knew that something bad was going to happen. Anyway, it's not hard to figure out. There were slaves that weren't really slaves on the auction block yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"I know what slaves look like, and there were several that weren't common slaves. They were too healthy. Too strong. Too proud. They weren't submissive."

Isao's nostrils flared. He nodded, forcing himself to remain calm in the face of his inner anguish. "I understand. The Nari and Ameyas must have snuck some of their own into the slaves as a means to get more of their soldiers into our city."

"Despicable," Khalem muttered.

"They will pay," Isao murmured, rage swelling within him. "The cowards."

* * *

The late morning soon turned into the afternoon.

As soon as they started off, the slope became a steep pitch heavy with shale. When the horses stumbled, their legs were cut by the loose rocks.

By afternoon, the horses were only able to stagger forward, so weary were the animals from the night before.

Khalem stopped and slid off his horse. Sweat streaked down the sides of his face.

"We must proceed on foot,” he decided. “The horses won't survive if we continue like this, and they're slowing us down. Grab the canteens and let them go. They're intelligent steeds. They'll make it back on their own."

Celty grabbed one of the two canteens before Isao could carry both. The horses remained where they were, blowing out great breaths as the three of them started up the path.

The rough terrain cut into Isao's shoes. He stumbled every other step, and had to grab onto shrubs and bushes to keep from falling back down the high-pitched slope. Even Khalem slowed, panting with every other step.

"Your violet eyes," Isao said to Celty in between gasps, hoping to distract himself from the exertion. "They're unique. Where are you from?"

"I don't know. My childhood was . . . I don't remember much. Just strange images with many women's faces and unusual bodies. They were…serpent-like?" She shook her head in confusion. "It doesn't make any sense. Maybe they're just some weird nightmare that I think actually happened. Anyway, some farmers found me outside of the small town of Jinx. I worked in the fields there until they sold me as a slave."

"I'm sorry you don't know your family."

Her face remained even, yet Isao couldn't help but wonder what lingered behind it.

"Me too."

They fell back into silence as they slowly wormed their way around a cliff face. Khalem stumbled on the shale every now and then, sending a fall of rocks down the mountain face.

Isao fell deep into his thoughts, wondering about his father, the palace, and what would happen next.

"Isao!"

The guttural cry came seconds before Isao saw them: At least thirty people, hidden behind tribal masks with leering smiles, bulbous noses, and bright, frightening eyes. Simple leather skins and drapes of leaves adorned their bodies, and each gripped a club or wooden spear. Tattoos adorned their shoulders, arms and chests.

A smaller, child-like person held up two rocks in clenched hands.

Isao sucked in a sharp breath. Were the legends true? Did cannibals really haunt these treacherous slopes?

Celty and Khalem edged closer to Isao, their expressions grim. The three of them backed up into each other for safety.

Seconds later, the strangers started to shout in an odd, clicking kind of language. They held up their weapons, first waving them overhead, then poking them toward the small group before they pointed at a path that snaked up the mountain and far away.

"They want us to follow them on that path. I think . . . maybe they want to take us to their chief, or something," Celty said.

"How do you know that?" Khalem muttered.

"I don't know. I just think…that they would have killed us by now if not."

Khalem, instead of being afraid, appeared to think over what she said.

Celty's hands rested at her side, seemingly at ease, but with her knuckles white with tension.

Isao pulled in a deep breath. Could these people just kill them? He wanted to shout, but held it back. Yes, they could. And no one would know.

A determination to live gave him strength. He swallowed back his fear with the realization that he was far, far from home and all whom he knew.

Khalem sighed. "Fine. We'll follow."

Celty offered both hands up, showing her wrists. The closest person grabbed them, tied a rope around her, and shoved her toward the path. She hid a grimace, but Isao saw pain flare in her bright eyes.

Khalem and Isao were immediately disarmed by the other tribe members and tied at the wrists. They followed after Celty.

Hot acid rose in Isao's throat as he followed the mask-wearing strangers up the mountain, toward the mouth of a dark, wide cave. Where he could see nothing inside.