Chapter One –
Against the Invisible Net
At the top of the long, rectangular table, Iza Suwan was propped up on her knees with the heels of her feet positioned beneath her buttocks. As the members of the council spoke in turn, her jeweled mother-of-pearl eyes shifted to each new face they came across, becoming increasingly narrow. The tone of the circular conversation had shifted from mild disagreement to one of arrogant dispute, the people gathered raising their voices above one another in a bid to win over their emperor.
They bickered now, moaning and spluttering over the emperor's decoy's death, in favor of assessing the real problem at hand. Iza knew an attempt was sure to come, as inevitable and eventual as the rising moon or burgeoning tide. The indecision and sluggish gesticulation irked her, pricking her skin like a buzzing gnat. Of most import was the wolf in their midst, cloaking themselves under the guise of a sheep; the attempt on the emperor's life was only a tattered strand in the greater, more intricate, weave of conspiracy.
When a Tengu official was killed in a skirmish at the marketplace in the Yokai city of Yeowan over two centuries ago, the death had set off a war that still raged generations later. Whether it was murder or accidental, no one had known or seemed to care. Ethnic tensions that had been simmering beneath the surface erupted with vigor and vitriol as the billowing dust started to settle, cooling the hot blood that soaked the pavers.
Cha'ri, the former Ammako Emperor, had attempted and failed to quell rebellion and unite the Clans' power in the wake of the tragedy; instead, he succeeded in breeding further conflict by enforcing harsh decrees in an effort to put an end to unrest. His consort, Renii, died as a result of his tight grasp, giving birth to a blinding paranoia that permanently upset the already-tenuous ground that had been laid.
Thus far, the number of valid solutions brought forth had been all naught but boisterous blustering. While her council seemed overly exuberant to speak aloud what they felt would please the emperor most, none bothered to ponder what could be considered practical action and what might be frivolous simpering.
A wave of impatience crested like a wave that was being violently thrust ashore by gravity. She broke her calm level of disinterest with a twitch of her ears, which she covered up with a flick of her tail and a run of her fingers over the mocha hairs. With his ruby robes fluttering, the caramel-skinned figure in front of her stood as he surveyed the people gathered with an almond-shaped gaze. Each patron's shouted cries became frozen in their throats as it lit upon them, their previously storm-like visages clouded over with caution.
"If you all cannot come to a consensus, then I will." The steeled edge of his voice left frost in its wake, cooling the room immediately. "Send word to the other clans—I am imposing a mandatory conscription for the eldest male in each house. Their lives, as well as the lives of their family members, are forfeit if they refuse to comply."
Immediately, shouts of indignation rose, coalescing and cajoling each other as they climbed. They cut off as the emperor's hand sliced in front of him, silencing the opposition. "This is my decree. I will not hear dissent otherwise. Obey your Emperor, or face the executioner's noose yourselves."
With that, the man gave Iza a menacing glare while his chest heaved like a racing stag's. "Come." Once more, he turned to face the council members, and something in his intense gaze forced them to bow much more deeply than was necessary. "You are dismissed."
He turned, a whirl of garnet and gold, and strode out of the room. Iza followed without needing to be summoned, examining her feet and the wooden planks that slipped by beneath them. It was the samurai's responsibility to be the silent observer, to anticipate rather than react, and she did her best to remain steadfast to this creed. The massive footsteps carried the emperor farther and farther, outpacing Iza's own spacious walk.
The man's enormous form eventually slowed as they crossed an innocuous iron gate that led into the emperor's private apartments, and he leaned his back against the trunk of a big dogwood. Iza stopped in front of him, her dark chocolate ears flopping as she turned to watch him run a large hand over his face.
"I hope you're satisfied, Iza; the conscription is sure to draw the ire of the colonies. They barely have enough hands to tend the fields as it is." Warmth washed over her as her opal orbs met his deep obsidian ones. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, but it did not materialize.
"Satisfied is not the word I would use, Jeikob. The council still questions my judgment, even poised on the lips of a gender they recognize. The conscription will work, I assure you; unity must be borne from fire and trial, not gilded words and pageantry."
With a nod, a sigh escaped Jeikob's tightly closed lips. Iza reached up and put her thin fingers on his cheek. "Without you, cousin, this farce would be far more conspicuous."
He smirked at her words, amused at the way her poised regality gave way to wistful familiarity. "And without you, my dear Empress, this palace would have long since been but cinder and ash."
Iza snorted and pushed Jeikob's face aside, her kimono billowing as a breeze gusted through the courtyard. When Cha'ri succumbed to the weakness of death, Iza was his only living descendant. When her name was broached as the next Empress, the council revolted, insisting on installing the closest male relative by blood in her place. Jeikob did not want the throne, and he had no mind for it. Where Iza was the scorching sun, resolute and unforgiving, Jeikob was a summer's shower, no more forceful or driven than the softly falling rain. In the moments before the tumultuous commencement, Jeikob had handed Iza the crown, though only a seldom few knew upon which head it sat.
"Tell me, Jeikob, what news of the would-be assassin?"
He lowered his body to the ground, fingers clutching at the softly waving blades of grass, plucking and picking in rumination. "They killed Tohru, Iza. It was an assassination – just not the one they sought."
Her devoted servant started at the scowl that briefly appeared on Iza's face, but he persisted resolutely despite it, gazing into her blazing opal stare. "On their way out, we lost five members of the inner guard. They need to be replaced swiftly, or we shall be left vulnerable to another attempt. No other maids will volunteer their life after what happened to Tohru."
Iza bent down to sit cross-legged across from Jeikob, eyeing him speculatively. She ran a hand along her braid absentmindedly, caressing the coffee-dark strands that hovered near the ground as she walked, adjusting the hairpin at her temple adorned with gold and amethyst.
"Then we must find those who have nothing left to lose, or stand to lose everything. My identity must remain secret, lest our plots and schemes be but sand against the tide. Of course, I shall vet them myself; we can't have the common rabble knowing our little secret. I do not care if they are Oni, or Yokai, or Tengu, or Ningen. They must only be loyal and willing to take the keen slice of a blade as duty requires. Have Jasu dispatch the envoys to the Shoguns; you are dismissed."
When she spoke her voice was breezy, light and unconcerned. She described a creature being killed in her place in a manner akin to talking about the weather or a certain type of tea leaves; emotionless, dismissively perceptive, and motivated by impatient efficiency. Iza felt that greed and sloth had no place, particularly among the elite.
Jeikob groaned, rising from his spot to peer upon his Empress with poorly-disguised sadness, his stout sienna ears pinned against his russet hair. The day Cha'ri had died had changed Iza to him, her childlike innocence shed like a snake's ill-fitting skin, useful no more.
"Your will is mine to realize, my Empress." He began to stride away with purposeful steps when he paused, turning to regard Iza's armor-clad back. "If you find the council less than productive, perhaps a visit to Rozari Miko may prove more fruitful."
Iza turned to meet his stare, mischief alighting her gaze. "Then we shall make for the Grand Namani Shrine when you return, Jeikob. Blessings of Ammako go with you." She turned away, fingers already working to craft a wreath of lilies from the pond they had sat nearby.
She remained on the ground for some time, twining jewelry made of the water-dwelling blossoms. All too soon, as though on cue, dark, blooming clouds began to crowd the horizon, carrying with them curtains of rain and thunder. Iza stood, growling, to regard the looming storm with contempt and fury. Her eyes began to glow, as though the whites of her eyes eclipsed the irises and pupils. The burning orb overhead started to blaze hotter and harder at the physical embodiment of her power, as if to fight away the coming tempest. The fur on her pricked ears and lashing tail stood on end, charged with the current of her power. If the Oni were the only ones responsible, the fierce squall would have taken hours to make landfall. The rapid approach confirmed the Tengu, with their sheering winds from their feathered arms, had a taloned hand in this assault, their audacious union an affront to the Empire and, by extension, Iza herself.
As the curling thunderheads withdrew, she stood and turned, stalking a frenzied path to and fro across the garden. Her visage was infuriated, the ivory kimono she wore flapping behind her in a frenzy, the armored plating attached by golden ropes at her shoulders, arms and legs rattling as she raged a rut through the plush grass. Her long braid danced and jerked, swishing like a horse's mane as it licked her ankles.
The Yokai were the only Clan that had refrained from launching a full-scale attack; their Ryujin Shogun Karisre Ku-Len had been oddly silent, a thorn in Iza's side as she had no way of knowing where the Neko leader stood. While they did not outwardly show much aggression outside reactionary skirmishes, they also refused to send their delegation to the imperial city to facilitate negotiations.
Jeikob returned to the courtyard with a mulish grimace on his face, interrupting Iza's agitated pacing. He came to a halt just outside the Empresses' wrath, arms behind his back and his right fist securely clasped in his left, in the attention of a soldier.
She stopped, her baleful glare leveling her friend and cousin, before it slid from her face and was replaced by apathetic focus. "Speak."
Jeikob straightened back up after bending into a low bow, his expression calm and unfazed by Iza's furious expression. "Jasu is organizing the Tokcho, Xushu, and Iknan detachments. What makes you so sanguine the Shoguns will obey?"
Iza smirked, darkness eclipsing her moonstone irises. "Because they fear the fangs of the beast who keeps himself chained. And because love is a very powerful motivator, however illusory it may be. Come. Let us speak to Rozari."