Yin and Yang: A Fool's Beginning (8 page)

I stop speaking. Though I open my lips to reply that
I am a loyal servant, the words freeze in my throat.

The intensity with which Castor stares at me is one I
have never faced.

No, not never. My father used to burn with such
powerful ferocity too. But unlike Castor, he was undisciplined,
unfocused.

Castor Barr, on the other hand, is rightfully one of
the greatest warriors ever to have lived.

As that fact repeats in my mind, I lose a little more
of my emotional control.

Castor watches me
keenly, his eyes darting around as he takes in my expression and
body language
. “If you do anything to
her, I will come after you.”

Again I don't speak.

Instead I lock my gaze on the floor and concentrate
as hard as I can on the scuffed wood.

“You won't be able to
flow around me, nor will you be able to manipulate me. If you try
to manipulate her,” Castor begins.

“You'll rip my throat
out,” I conclude quickly.

“No, I will break
you. I'll find the one thing that can tear down your wall of
emotional control, and I'll use it,” he says quietly. In fact, his
tone is barely above a whisper, and registers as nothing more than
a slight hiss of breath.

I stop pumping my hands. In fact, I practically stop
breathing too.

Yet somehow, I stand my ground. For all of Castor
Barr's threats, he can’t undermine my training with words
alone.

“It makes sense for a
man like you to be a captain in the Royal Army,” Barr suddenly
notes, “you're heartless enough to do anything the command tells
you.”

“I am not heartless,”
I interject, unable to keep silent.

“Really, you have a
heart? Have you ever used it?” Castor states as he leans forward
slightly, once more staring into my eyes unblinkingly. His gaze is
like a roaring gale, and staring back at it is like standing in a
lightning storm.

But swallowing, I manage it.

Then I hold my tongue. I won't let this man
manipulate me.

It's hard, though. As soon as silence descends for
too long, I find my attention going back inexorably to Yin. The
questions fill my mind again, but I'm not foolish enough to ask
them. If I engage Castor in conversation, he'll use it against
me.

So I press my lips closed and keep my eyes wide open.
Though I've convinced myself that if Castor intended to escape he
would have done so by now, I still can't afford to take my eyes off
him.

In every way he is proving himself to be the
legendary warrior of old.

But perhaps it's not Castor I have to worry
about.

Yin

I wake with a start.

I come plummeting out of unconsciousness like a rock
thrown off the highest tower. I spring forward, jumping up with the
momentum of waking up.

I feel like I've been hemmed in by a wall that
somehow trapped me in sleep.

Just as I jump forward, somebody wraps an arm around
my middle and holds me in place.

I open my eyes. In fact, the lids jerk wide with such
speed it feels as if I'll tear the skin.

My hair flying about my face with the force of my
move, I suddenly realize that someone's in front of me.

My mind takes seconds to catch up. It's Captain Yang.
As I jerk towards him, he jerks backwards. His face is awash with
surprise, those pale brown eyes as open as they can be.

“Yin,” I hear Castor
call my name, and suddenly realize that he's the one holding
me.

My mind struggles to catch up.

As it does, I stare with open eyes at Yang. My hair
slowly settles across my shoulder and brushes against my face, and
my limbs, once twinging with action, now relax.

“You're safe,” Castor
says as he tries to guide me backwards.

It's then that I realize I'm in a cart of some
description. Through the small barred windows, I can see the road
outside. I can also hear the clip-clop of horse hooves and feel the
rotating wheels underneath the floor.

How on earth I got here, I have no idea.

I let Castor pull me backwards until I sit roughly on
a decidedly uncomfortable seat.

“You're safe,” Castor
repeats once more as he lays a hand heavily upon my shoulder. The
weight of it is reassuring, and I don't try to shrug it
off.

Instead I rest
further back into the wall and into his grip. It takes several
seconds to open my lips and ask
, “what's
going on?” My voice is croaky and weak, and as I bring a hand up
and pat my throat, I realize I'm weary with fatigue.

I feel like I'm still half-asleep.

“How did you wake
up?” Captain Yang asks. Though he's no longer plastered against the
far wall in total surprise, I can still see shock flickering in his
gaze. Which is unusual, because my only impression of the man so
far is one of complete emotional control.

Well, right now he looks less like the epitome of
calm, and more like an ordinary man.

But all too soon he gets a handle on himself.
Lengthening his back and tilting his head down, he clears his
throat.

“What's going on?” I
ask as I run my fingers over my wrists, noticing the cuts and
gouges.

“Stay calm,” Castor
says.

Calm?

I can't remember how
I got here. In fact, the last thing I remember is
. . . the Night.

I jerk back with such force, my shoulder impacts the
wall and dents it.

I hear the horses
neigh, and from outside a gruff voice asks
, “what's going on in there? Captain?”

Yang doesn't answer
immediately; he's too busy staring at me with surprise. But as the
soldier asks again, he clears his throat and says
, “it's fine, it's fine.”

It's not fine.

Pressing my palm into my face and letting my crooked
fingers push into my mud-caked hair, I close my eyes.

As soon as I see the darkness, I jerk them open
again.

“You are safe,”
Castor says in his most calming tone. He weighs his hand further
into my shoulder, his fingers spreading as their warmth travels
into my skin.

I'm safe.

I try to hold onto that fact, and the more I look
around me and see that the Night isn't crawling up from the cracks
in the floor or groping through the bars on the windows, I realize
Castor is right.

But he’s also wrong.

As I calm down enough to realize the Night is not
about to claim me, I understand I still have other problems.

My memory catches up to me, and I realize with a cold
shudder that I must be on my way to the capital. The soldiers must
have defeated me, knocking me out and shoving me into this
cart.

At least Castor is here, though.

. . .
.

He's here. In the same cart as me. So why hasn't he
done anything? There's only Captain Yang, and presumably a few
soldiers on top of the cart to control the horses.

I've fought Castor, and I know from experience how
powerful he is. It would not be beyond his skills to overcome Yang
and the rest of those soldiers.

So why hasn't he done that?

Slowly I turn to him, my lips parting as I shiver
once more.

He doesn't say anything, shaking his head
instead.

“How did you wake
up?” Captain Yang asks, and again I hear his calm tone waver. In
fact, his expression is contorted too, his brow crumpled and his
cheeks slack.

“. . . You
put me to sleep,” I realize, remembering him leaning down and
pressing his thumb into the center of my head.

Again I shudder back, but this time I quickly damp
down on my fear with anger.

I press the fingers of my left hand into my palm,
curling them until the nails dig directly into the flesh.

Though I still feel half-asleep, that won't stop me
from fighting. While Castor seems reluctant to take on these
soldiers, I’m not.

But he won't let me. Gently Castor leans forward and
wraps one of his large hands around my wrist.

“What are you doing?”
I ask as I try to jerk back from him.

“You can't fight
them,” he says.

He's wrong; I can. I will.

But he won't remove his fingers from my wrist.

“Listen to your
uncle,” Yang speaks, “we don't want to hurt you,” he adds, sounding
sincere but still a little unsure of himself.

With one look at him, I can still feel the surprise
rippling off him.

In fact, it contorts his handsome face and makes his
manly build seem small.

“Try to rest,” Castor
suggests in a soothing voice.

Rest? We are in a cart travelling towards the
capital, where no doubt we will both be delivered to the army.
While Castor will be drafted, I'll probably be locked in jail.

How exactly am I to rest when I should be
fighting?

But no matter how hard I try to yank my hand free
from Castor's grip, he won't let me. He simply holds on with his
usual willful determination.

Eventually I give up, sinking my teeth into my lips
as I do.

“Try to rest,” he
suggests again.

“I'd rather not take
my eyes off him,” I snarl as I cross my arms and stare directly at
Yang.

At first he looks taken aback, but all too soon I
watch him gather his control. He sits taller, angles his head down,
and even shifts his helmet until it hides the majority of his gaze
in shadow.

I’m unimpressed, and just cross my arms tighter.

“I'm not a threat to
you,” he says as he brings his hands up wide and spreads his
fingers.

“Yeah, right. That's
why you're taking us to the capital. But hey, if you're not a
threat, you won't mind if I let myself out?” I ask as I point a
thumb to the bolted door next to him.

Yang slides his gaze across to the door, then back to
me. He doesn't drop his hands though. Again I feel like he's
exuding calm, like he's just about as sincere as any man can
be.

It would be so very easy to trust him, I suddenly
realize.

After all, apart from restraining me when I fought
his men, he hasn't outright attacked me, has he?

I feel my arms loosening their grip.

. . .
.

He smiles. It's gentle. Or at least I think it's
meant to be gentle.

That sets me off again. Men like Captain Yang have no
business smiling at women like me. I have nothing to give him, and
even if I did, I wouldn't.

I clear my
throat
. “Castor isn't going to hug you,
so I suggest you put your arms down,” I snap.

Yang splutters, and I swear Castor gives a soft
laugh.

“I don't care how
trustworthy you seem, I only care about what you do. You might have
promised that nothing will happen to me, but I'm going to wait to
see what you really do.”

Yang lets his arms drop into his lap, and he casts
his wary gaze between me and Castor. Once again he looks less calm
and sure of himself, and once more that makes him seem all the more
like an ordinary man.

He looks at me again,
but the calm edge is now well and truly gone from his gaze, and he
seems more than a little defeated. Then, with a shrug, he swivels
that gaze to Castor
. “I wouldn't worry
about your apprentice; she seems more than capable of looking after
herself.”

My eyebrows descend in a snap, and I open my mouth to
say something, but Castor interrupts by laughing softly.

Then we all descend into silence. A very awkward,
pressured silence.

I keep my arms crossed in front of my chest, and my
hands curled into tight fists, and not once do I take my eyes off
that man.

I will escape. I promise myself that. I don't care
how long I have to wait or how much planning I have to do, but I
will free myself from Yang's clutches.

As I stare at him, he does something unusual, and
drops my gaze, preferring to look at the floor instead. Yet every
few seconds, like clockwork, he glances my way.

Though he no longer looks as sure of himself,
something else now flickers deep within those pale brown eyes.
Curiosity.

In fact, I've never had anyone, let alone a man,
stare at me with such open intrigue. Derision, yes, but not
this.

Though I don't want to rest, as the minutes tick past
into hours, I grow tremendously bored, and occasionally let my eyes
flicker closed.

“Rest,” Castor
encourages me, “you're safe here, for now.”

I mumble a
“
yes,” and despite the fact I try to stay
awake, I find myself gently drifting off.

Back into the arms of unconsciousness. But this time
Yang doesn’t press a thumb into the center of my forehead; I fall
asleep willingly.

It's an uneasy rest, though. Not even sleep can take
away the certainty of what will happen next.

My life is about to change, and apparently there's
nothing I can do about it.

Yet.

For I am the Savior, and I will find a way.

Captain Yang

The rest of the journey is spent in relative silence.
I now know better than to draw Castor back into conversation.
Whilst there are details of his conscription I must discuss, I
wisely choose not to in Yin's presence. When we reach the Royal
Army barracks, the generals can discuss whatever they wish with
Castor, and I will have discharged my duty by getting him
there.

I keep telling myself that. All I have to do is to
deliver Castor back to the Royal City.