Read Online Heart and Soul by Sarah A. Hoyt - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah A. Hoyt
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy fiction, Fantasy, Magic, Good and Evil, Alternative histories (Fiction)
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descended.
IN FLIGHT
Jade had followed Zhang down to the flight deck. Followed Zhang, because he had gone ahead of her, through the fighting raging on all levels. Thinking that wherever Zhang was, the jewels were sure to be, Jade hurried down a spiral staircase built of ornate wrought-iron, past a vast salon empty except for a gleaming white piano, onto a deck of small rooms and narrow corridors.
She avoided crew members that attacked her, but tried not to kill them. Her mother had been one of their people and Jade wondered, sometimes, if she might not meet one of her relatives unaware in these circumstances. It seemed unfilial to kill her mother’s relatives.
Following the greatest noise, running and squeezing past presses of fighting men, she found the carpetship flight deck, where the glass had been melted away by some of the other dragons from the Dragon Boats.
She found Zhang screaming at a blond, slim man, demanding the Jewels of Power. The man refused and, possessing himself of a saber, began to fight Zhang.
Jade, holding her own saber, stared, not knowing on which side to intervene or how. If the jewels were as powerful as Zhang had said, and not essential to keep magic and the world together, then Jade should join in on his side. On the other hand, if Zhang was lying, and if what Third Lady had said was true—that he’d sold out to the English—then she should join in on the Englishman’s side.
That the Englishman fought like a demon, holding his own against Zhang, before whom trained fighters crumpled, Jade could see. Oh, it was obvious that Zhang was superior. Yet though he wounded the Englishman, the Englishman kept on coming, a berserker, possessed of a lethal will to fight.
From a purely aesthetic perspective, she found herself admiring the dancerlike grace of the Englishman’s movements, the quickness of his hand, the ability with which he struck a guard or feinted with what had to be—to him—a wholly alien weapon.
Trained to fight with saber and sword from early childhood—at the whim of an all-powerful father who delighted in her—Jade could admire ability when she saw it. Both of the men fighting, back and forth across the flight deck, amid other men struggling together, were clearly more able than the others. Even if one was a master and the other just possessed of single-minded determination.
So absorbed was Jade in their contest that, when one of the Englishmen attacked her, she whirled and dislodged the blade from his hand—further administering him a blow with the flat of her saber to the top of the head, knocking him out—almost by feel, without ever taking her eyes from the fight before her.
Twice, the Englishman wounded Zhang, at wrist and shoulder. Twice, Zhang struck the Englishman. It was clear that both of them were tiring and yet that the contest could go on a long time without either getting the advantage over the other.
And then, from a slash across the Englishman’s chest and middle, which Jade would guess was no more than skin-deep, something fell. It rolled, shimmering red, across the blood-smeared floor.
Zhang hesitated. It was the tiniest of missteps, the smallest of hesitations. Seeing it, the Englishman rushed forward one step. Zhang came out of his momentary trance and swept the saber up and in an arc. It was clear he meant to behead the blond man. But the man stepped back and turned slightly. The saber cut deep into his shoulder.
The Englishman looked surprised, but not mortally wounded. Zhang made a sound of annoyance and dove for the jewel on the floor. Jade dove at the same time, thinking that whatever the jewel was, it would be safer with her. Zhang looked at her. For a moment their gazes met. Zhang smiled a feral smile.
And then…and then he ran to the edge of the ship, where the Dragon Boats were moored.
Jade didn’t know what she expected. That he would run across one of the mooring ropes and into the Dragon Boat? That he would try to
IN FLIGHT
Jade had followed Zhang down to the flight deck. Followed Zhang, because he had gone ahead of her, through the fighting raging on all levels. Thinking that wherever Zhang was, the jewels were sure to be, Jade hurried down a spiral staircase built of ornate wrought-iron, past a vast salon empty except for a gleaming white piano, onto a deck of small rooms and narrow corridors.
She avoided crew members that attacked her, but tried not to kill them. Her mother had been one of their people and Jade wondered, sometimes, if she might not meet one of her relatives unaware in these circumstances. It seemed unfilial to kill her mother’s relatives.
Following the greatest noise, running and squeezing past presses of fighting men, she found the carpetship flight deck, where the glass had been melted away by some of the other dragons from the Dragon Boats.
She found Zhang screaming at a blond, slim man, demanding the Jewels of Power. The man refused and, possessing himself of a saber, began to fight Zhang.
Jade, holding her own saber, stared, not knowing on which side to intervene or how. If the jewels were as powerful as Zhang had said, and not essential to keep magic and the world together, then Jade should join in on his side. On the other hand, if Zhang was lying, and if what Third Lady had said was true—that he’d sold out to the English—then she should join in on the Englishman’s side.
That the Englishman fought like a demon, holding his own against Zhang, before whom trained fighters crumpled, Jade could see. Oh, it was obvious that Zhang was superior. Yet though he wounded the Englishman, the Englishman kept on coming, a berserker, possessed of a lethal will to fight.
From a purely aesthetic perspective, she found herself admiring the dancerlike grace of the Englishman’s movements, the quickness of his hand, the ability with which he struck a guard or feinted with what had to be—to him—a wholly alien weapon.
Trained to fight with saber and sword from early childhood—at the whim of an all-powerful father who delighted in her—Jade could admire ability when she saw it. Both of the men fighting, back and forth across the flight deck, amid other men struggling together, were clearly more able than the others. Even if one was a master and the other just possessed of single-minded determination.
So absorbed was Jade in their contest that, when one of the Englishmen attacked her, she whirled and dislodged the blade from his hand—further administering him a blow with the flat of her saber to the top of the head, knocking him out—almost by feel, without ever taking her eyes from the fight before her.
Twice, the Englishman wounded Zhang, at wrist and shoulder. Twice, Zhang struck the Englishman. It was clear that both of them were tiring and yet that the contest could go on a long time without either getting the advantage over the other.
And then, from a slash across the Englishman’s chest and middle, which Jade would guess was no more than skin-deep, something fell. It rolled, shimmering red, across the blood-smeared floor.
Zhang hesitated. It was the tiniest of missteps, the smallest of hesitations. Seeing it, the Englishman rushed forward one step. Zhang came out of his momentary trance and swept the saber up and in an arc. It was clear he meant to behead the blond man. But the man stepped back and turned slightly. The saber cut deep into his shoulder.
The Englishman looked surprised, but not mortally wounded. Zhang made a sound of annoyance and dove for the jewel on the floor. Jade dove at the same time, thinking that whatever the jewel was, it would be safer with her. Zhang looked at her. For a moment their gazes met. Zhang smiled a feral smile.
And then…and then he ran to the edge of the ship, where the Dragon Boats were moored.
Jade didn’t know what she expected. That he would run across one of the mooring ropes and into the Dragon Boat? That he would try to
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