From the Editor:

A joss stick is sometimes more than just a joss stick.

Let me explain what I mean. First, read this (secret!) recipe:

*One standard-size bag of saltpeter from Little Din’s shop Happy Noise in the Lower City
*One catty of clove
*One catty of star anise
*As many sweet osmanthus bark shavings as can be stealthily gleaned from the Imperial Apothecary’s floors

Grind the fragrant herbs to a fine powder, mix in with the binding agent. Add enough warm water to moisten. Knead this dough until supple and roll into long, slender sticks. Let them dry in a heavily-secured room for 24 hours.

Package any old way you like, and sell them on the black market for 1000 times the price of ordinary sticks. Affix the package with a genuine wax seal, written in tiny characters “Palace Floor Sweeps’ Soothing Incense”,  and you can get twice as much again.

Second, read the continuation of our (true!) story Draught of the Gods.

//Oriole Burdee

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The Story Begins:

Losing Fire Fade

Broken Talon took for his personal chambers the highest, most remote of the grottoes.

“Ah that cave, that one – it was hollowed out of the limestone hills over 1000 years ago,” Twisted Tree said (one of the rare occasions he chose to speak). “And it was my venerable master Tranquil Fog who did it, using only a single steel toothpick and a swatch of chamois.”

Whether these facts would hold up under scrutiny was beside the point. The first time he stepped into the single-room cavern Broken Talon felt the mantle of wisdom and authority fall on his knotted shoulders.

And on this mellow afternoon Tranquil Fog’s grotto was the stage for a tragic little tableau.

Fire Fade lay puddled and red on the floor – a little soul guttering.  One man was trying to make her comfortable, while the other was bracing to pull out the splintered remains of an arrow in her shoulder.

Battle Axe had already shrieked twice and was ordered stand guard at the door. And there she stood eyes pink and fierce – a burning brand.

More Than Just a Joss Stick

Fire Fade was born the mirror image of her twin sister, but grew up to be her watery reflection in every way. Her body was fragile as an ivory hairpin – and that is why she didn’t question the searing sensation creeping through her body from the arrow in her shoulder.

But through the muddled haze of pain she gathered that something was wrong.

First, it was the inky-eyed stranger pulling tangles of hair back from her face with an odd kind of tenderness.

Second, it was Coriander, pushing past the frazzled Battle Axe standing sentinel at the entrance. “Ahem, Broken Talon – this is urgent business, Long Spring says that Moonface is to be taken off watch duty immediately. Yes, immediately was his exact word, and oooooh…she looks bad. What’s wrong with her? Just an arrow? That’s looking rather bad for an arrow.” She trotted off to spread the news.

Third, it was her guardian Long Spring, bursting into the chamber. “Jade Lord forgive me, I’ve been sleeping while my sister is suffering.” In a flash he was beside her -  tugging an eyelid, prying open her mouth, sniffing her palms, pressing a pulse.  It didn’t take long. “Jade Lord have mercy. They’re tipping their arrows with wolfsbane.”

Then everyone was talking at once except Battle Axe, who was shrieking from the door.

“Are you rebel warriors or are you addled chickens?” Broken Talon barked through the noise. “I want control, I want discipline! But mostly I want you to hold your chatter!”

Silence fell, and through the hush Fire Fade could hear a muted chime, chime, chime carried in on the afternoon breeze. Broken Talon’s black jade charms, strung across the mouth of the chamber to summon the gods, beseech their protection.

The rebel captain bent to his task, firming his grip on the sticky arrow’s shaft. No one knew this work better. He sucked in a breath…and drew the shaft out, swift and sure.

Fire Fade felt herself brace to scream, but all that came was a hollow sigh.

“Fetch my incense,” Long Spring called to Battle Axe. “I have a stick of sweet osmanthus.” And that is when Fire Fade knew she was dying.

One thousand years of patiently accumulated nothingness in Tranquil Fog’s chamber began to press in on her, stopping her breath. The last thing she saw was Battle Axe hovering somewhere above her, coppery locks falling down around her face and mingling with her own.

“She is two of her. So I am half of me,” she thought. “There is no room for more. And when my light is drowned she will spring up, hotter than ever.”

Proving Herself Able

Broken Talon’s back was a mural of tattoos – a hundred pictures and a thousand pictograms played out in ink the battles he had won with nothing but a pair of matched swords and guts of steel.

Yes, his guts were exemplary but his stomach was an issue. It was an open secret amongst the rebels that their captain burnt through his vitals at twice the speed of an ordinary man. The consequence of which was that he was whip-thin. And cranky.

That is why Battle Axe was mentally running through a quick calculation to figure his last probable meal just as she was clattering after him down the narrow stairwell. Nearly sunset and Coriander said he missed lunch today because the bread was late, and then Cat arrived and while they were in conference someone ate up his share. Not ideal.

But Battle Axe had a Really Good Plan.

“Captain! Wait for me…uh, first thank-you for dealing with the arrow. She looks like she is sleeping very nicely now. But you know the incense will only hold her for a couple of days, and then… Anyway, I have a Really Good Plan and if you just have a moment…the idea is to get hold of a sweet osmanthus draught. That would fix her in no time.”

Broken Talon looked over at her with ill-disguised pity, mixed with something he was trying a little harder to disguise. She suspected it was crankiness.

“Osmanthus, hmm? Do you know how much is needed for a proper draught?” He started to walk faster. “And do you know how much that would cost? And do you realize buying and selling sweet osmanthus is illegal in Pearl City? And environs?”

“I’ve got my purple amethyst – but it probably wouldn’t fetch more than 30 silver pieces. Soooo, I was planning to either steal the rest of the money, or steal the bark. And I would need your help with either of these Really Good Plans.”

“We don’t need hysterics and heroics right now, we need hard work. We need willing hands and able feet, we have the kitchens to attend to –”

But Battle Axe soldiered on.  “…or I can go south where it’s a little cheaper. You can find medicinal quality osmanthus at Cinnabar City’s open market. I would need maybe 5 people, and perhaps a couple of mules.”

The stone corridor opened into Serpent’s Solarium, gray and hollow in the twilight. Captain Kneecap was trundling up and down with a long hooked pole, hanging tiny lanterns in all the recesses pocking the mica walls. When the last lamp was swung in place the cavern would twinkle with his handiwork, and the rebels could roll out their bamboo bed-mats and settle down under a myriad paper constellations.

Broken Talon screeched to a halt, his stomach rumbled loudly. “Do you see any mules here? Do you? Listen to me, girl. Last week we lost a good man to bad goat meat, and we’re seeing early signs of the scurvy. We need to sort our food situation out now or it will just get worse. We don’t have a surplus of people and pack animals to dole out to whoever wants them.”

She wanted to slap his creased face and scream “what about my sister?” Instead she swallowed and asked, in her humblest voice, “Can I at least have Captain Kneecap?”

“At least?” The lantern-lighter was standing just behind her, pole in hand.  He looked mightily affronted. “You’d best remember proper respect for your elders! As our warrior-philosopher Oak Staff once said, ‘a cheeky youth is like a blunt hatchet, only good for making kindling’.”

Battle Axe sensed an opportunity. More specifically, one of the 118 Celestial Opportunities For Proving Your Mettle. “Hah! We’ll see who will be making kindling out of whom!” And with that she whipped out her deadly matched swords. Unfortunately, her deadly matched swords were really mis-matched fruit knives. But it would have to serve – Broken Talon was there watching, and he hadn’t said no (not really). She would put on a dizzying display of martial skill.  She was ready. She had been practicing. For two weeks.

It started out impressive enough. With a neat twist she fell into the classic crouch Frog Stalks the Fly – then shrieking a mighty “hiiii-ya!” sprang straight into the air; a deft thrust of her right hand and she lunged into Lizard in a Pinch.

A cheer went up from the crowd gathering on the periphery. Encouraged, Battle Axe picked up the pace, whipping through Viper Vomits and Scorpion Celebrates in tight succession.

But as she approached Bad Donkey Gets Angry it started to go a little wobbly. Aiming a snapped kick for the air somewhere around Captain Kneecap’s head Battle Axe suddenly realized she wasn’t sure how to land. By the time she rotated into Vengeful Dragonfly Eats a Midge the crowd had switched loyalties.

It came to a rather messy finale. Battle Axe tripped over the captain’s lantern-lighting pole, somehow sliced off several locks of her own hair and lost grip of a knife. (It was located very soon after, sticking into someone’s shin).

The Serpent’s Solarium fell silent (except for someone screaming “my shin, my shin!!!”). Broken Talon stretched out a hand, pulled her firmly to her feet. He wasn’t bothering to hide the pity anymore. “You ought to be with your sister, little one. Be off with you now.”

“Does that mean –“

“I am sorry, but it is too risky and I don’t want to lose another warrior. Especially one with so much promise.” Giggles rose from the crowd, and Battle Axe struggled not to cry. Humiliated, and alone.

“I’ll go with you.” Inkstone’s dark inflection cut through the crowd, cut through the dusk gathering fast in Serpent’s Solarium.

Trouble has a Tail

Cat prowled through the narrow stone stairways of the grottoes – a trail of sunflower seeds pattering on the stone floor in his wake.

He was done sniffing around for the day – Broken Talon was still messing about organizing the kitchen crew, of all things. So, if he could just find his way out of this maddening maze…

Sunflower seeds were just the thing to take the edge off a permanent state of restlessness, and the decades-long habit had worn a groove into Cat’s left front tooth. He fitted in a salty kernel, and was just biting down when a couple of rebels cannoning up the steps nearly sent him flying.

“Well, if it isn’t my keen little student Battle Axe! You’ve been polishing that backward snap on Bad Donkey Gets Angry?”

“Cat! No time for chat, we’re in the thick of it now! My sister’s been –”

“Ah yes, I’ve heard the heartbreaking news.”

“Long Spring’s burning a stick of sweet osmanthus for her, so she could still rally.”

Cat spat the shell neatly onto the floor. “Ptht! Its wolfsbane, am I right? Not likely, although it hurts me to be the one giving you the hard news. I’ve seen it before, you know. She’ll slip off with the last wisp of smoke, sure as the silver asp sheds its skin.”

“Well, not to worry because we,” she pointed to her dark-haired companion, “are off to the Palace to get us a load of osmanthus bark.”

Cat looked the boy up and down. Obviously a Northerner, so he would be fast. Harder to gauge his sparing chops, however. He seemed a bit…lean. And sulky.

“Indeed? Well, that is an honorable mission, my keen little student. But I hope your silent friend here has more fighting promise than meets the eye because it’s a treacherous game for an outlaw loose in the Palace these days.”

The unlikely heroes pounded past him on the stairwell, undeterred. Cat leaned against the wall, thoughtfully chewing a seed. He was remembering something.

“Ah-hah, but hold up there, my budding apprentice!” Battle Axe turned. “You are doughty as a dung beetle challenging a dragon, no doubt about that! If I were you, however, I would strike for the softer target. There’s always the caravan –“

“Caravan?”

“Just so – should be watering in Hive Town by now. My sources say the Southern Potentate is gifting one of her daughters to the Emperor – a very curious turn of events. But getting back to the vitals: you may want to see if isn’t packing just what you are looking for.”

And with that he winked and strode away, leaving just the faintest whiff of tar lingering in the evening chill creeping through the grottoes of God’s Teeth.