had never done so;

Gan’s first inkling that Xau

might outmatch his father.

Gan took off his jacket,

the jacket of a king’s guard.

Handed it to Captain Li.

Gan’s guard duty done.

COUNTER GAMBIT

One moment Xau was upside down,

hurtling through the air,

then he hit grass,

shoulder-first,

rolled over onto his feet.

He bowed to Shuen,

the guard who had thrown him:

a curious way to spend

a perfect spring morning,

being assaulted by his guards.

Captain Li held up a hand. “Wait.”

A palace sentry crossed the courtyard.

“Your Majesty, one of the people

on your list just arrived,

it’s Master Enlai, the minstrel.

He’s waiting to speak to you.”

“He didn’t ask to see to his horse first?”

One of the few things Xau liked

about Enlai was that the minstrel

took good care of Shira.

“He left his horse to the hostler.”

Xau raised his eyebrows. “Fetch him.”

He accepted a towel from Li,

rubbed his arms dry

as Enlai came over.

“Your Majesty.”

Enlai bowed, a plain bow,

devoid of the flourishes

the minstrel usually favored,

a second, though minor, oddity.

“Master Enlai. Are you well?

How is Shira?”

“Shira?” A blankness in Enlai’s face

that changed to blandness.

“Fine. Thank you.”

That more than a minor oddity.

Xau made the warning finger-signal

to his guards, considered Enlai.

“What did you learn in Sumbral?”

“I’d like to go over my notes with you.”

The minstrel pulled a roll of paper

from a pocket, stepped to Xau—

—Li sprang between them, knocked Enlai over.

Who fell. Badly. Thumped down hard.

Li on top of him, pinning him.

“What—” began Xau. Stared.

In Enlai’s grip, a thin blade,

viscous yellow along its double edge.

“Li. Careful. Poison.”

Shuen stepped onto Enlai’s arm,

used a towel as he freed the blade,

three of Xau’s other guards

now helping Li to pin Enlai.

“Li, did he cut you?” asked Xau.

“No.”

“Leong, make sure.”

Xau ignored everything else

until Leong had stripped Li down,

inspected every square inch of his skin.

“He’s fine.”

Leong moved over to examine the knife.

“But that does look like poison.”

“Search Enlai,” said Xau. “Then bind him.”

He tried to think,

tried to think past the fact

that Li might have died.

Xau would never have taken Enlai

for an assassin,

the man entirely self-interested.

What profit to Enlai from this?

“Why?” asked Xau.

“Because you’re an unmatched threat.”

Enlai laughed,

a hollow, malevolent sound,

nothing like his normal laugh.

Instinct, impulse, half-formed thoughts

as Xau said, “Hold him still,”

laid his hand on Enlai’s forehead.

Malice whipped him,

bared every hurt he’d ever borne,

broken bones, burnt flesh,

battle and flame and demon,

his hands red with Tsung’s blood.

Underneath the furied flood, faint,

a wounded creature cried for help—

Xau staggered as Li pulled him loose.

“No. We must do this.” Xau touched Enlai—

A skeleton of fire,

a horse slaughtered by his own hand,

blue-lipped children dead of cold,