Hotsuka's Story Read online

  Hotsuka’s Story

  Book 1 of the Dragon Pearl Series

  J F Mehentee

  Dedication

  The six books in this series are dedicated to my brother, Viraf.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Get Barid’s Story for free

  A note from the author

  Also by J F Mehentee

  About the Author

  Acknowledgments

  1

  I had three visitors during that awful time of helplessness: the first was my enemy, the second a goddess with child and, finally, my only friend, a Djinni.

  I had made a mistake, a terrible, terrible mistake. So, I did the cowardly thing and hid. I fled to the Sinkian Range, discovered a cavern within it and, having sought its darkest corner, hoped that I would never be found.

  Being Human had made me foolish. I was so caught up in my pursuit of Shernaz that I had never considered the consequences. And after that single disastrous night, what would happen next was all I could think about. I knew, even then, that I could never return to the Heavens, at least not until after I’d been punished.

  I sat in that black corner of that world for days before I decided I was not hiding but rather waiting. Someone would come. Neither a cave, a mountain range nor a world would be enough to hide me from my own kind.

  The enormity of what I had done became apparent when I saw a Meijin enter the cavern—no less than Lord Takeo, Father Meijin himself. I quickly rose.

  His corporeal form was Human: slant-eyed, black shoulder-length hair and a pale complexion turned white by the light emanating from him.

  ‘Do you realise what you’ve done, Hotsuka?’ he said. His voice shook the walls and floor of the cavern.

  I nodded slowly, then bowed my head. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then, what were you thinking? Why do it when you know it’s forbidden, when not one of our kind, in aeons, Hotsuka, even considered doing such a thing?’

  Having it put that way, I understood his vexed disbelief. But it also made an explanation impossible because whatever I said, whichever way I put it, there would never be a reason good enough to counter the repercussions of what I had done.

  That was when I wished I was truly Human because then he could end me, snuff out my existence and end my shame. But that is not the Meijin way. We would never embrace such simplicity.

  ‘Well, Hotsuka? What do you have to say for yourself, for what you’ve done?’

  I looked up at him and saw how anger narrowed his eyes. Until I saw that look, I thought I’d understood the extent of my wrongdoing. He opened his mind to me, and I glimpsed stars wink out, extinguished prematurely. But those pinpricks of silver light were not stars. They were Meijin. Something far worse than I had anticipated was yet to happen, and it was this that stoked Lord Takeo’s rage. Whatever it was—his mind was not entirely open to me—the great Father Meijin himself was unable to prevent it.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Truly. I’ll do everything it takes to undo what I’ve done.’

  He shook his head and laughed, the sound of his laughter causing the surrounding rock to blister and fracture. ‘I have never understood what Lady Shinju sees in you, why you’re one of her favourites. But now, with you standing there, hearing your pathetic apology, I realise that I’d mistaken pity for favouritism. Pity for one so stupid, for one so out of place that he would take it upon himself to break the one rule we hold the most sacred. Is that why you did it, Hotsuka? Do you feel so out of place that you cannot behave as a Meijin should?’

  He was goading me, but his words carried truth. I did not so much feel out of place as feel tired of my whole existence. For millennia, I was an Explorer, my role to travel this Universe and confirm what the Meijin already knew: we were adept creators. I was fed up with such a pointless, self-congratulatory pursuit. So, I took my persistent curiosity, a characteristic of my breed, and turned it on myself. It was the making of me and my undoing.

  ‘What I did was wrong,’ I said. I met Lord Takeo’s contemptuous stare. ‘And you’re right; my behaviour was not befitting of a Meijin. But then, I no longer consider myself Meijin.’

  Orange-red light pulsed beneath Lord Takeo’s skin—he was struggling to maintain his Human form. His head lolled forward, his hands curled and his shoulders rose as he fought the imminent detonation that preceded a transformation.

  Even if I had understood what he was preparing to do, I could have done nothing to prevent it. Channelling the energy of the Meijin Council, he was here to deliver their ruling together with a punishment he judged fitting for the crime.

  His head snapped back. The bolus of fire he spat melted his lower jaw, sending flecks of green vitriol spiralling into the air.

  The heavy fireball splattered against my face. It sent me tottering backwards as it quickly engulfed me, setting my clothes alight, causing my skin to crackle as it burned its way toward my bones. The physical pain was short-lived. But I would rather have endured that than the sensation of losing my assuredness, the integral and unshakable knowledge of what I was. As muscle and bone charred and melted, I experienced the heat erasing what I had once been. It boiled my constituents into a soup that slowly, as it cooled, reconstituted and reshaped itself into someone I did not know.

  I hung there in darkness.

  ‘Now, truly, you are no longer Meijin,’ Lord Takeo said. It was dark again and I could not see him. ‘You are nothing, and you will remain here until this world is nothing. And then what remains of you will drift until this Universe is undone.’

  I heard the crunch of his footsteps as he left the cave. My body rose and fell until my erratic breathing steadied and I stopped bumping against the cave’s ceiling and walls.

  Certain that I was alone, I began to scream.

  2

  I did not experience hunger, but I was conscious of thirst. It was by design, I decided, part of my punishment, that I would crave water without it being essential to my survival. And neither did I need sleep. Both were remnants from my time as a Meijin. Both tested the limits of my sanity.

  What remained of my memories, those that had not been stripped away so that I could fully appreciate my predicament and deprivation, also saved me. Recalling them kept me from tumbling over the edge, although the limitations of a Human mind sometimes prevented me from understanding what it was that was being recalled.

  Tenshi would later tell me that I received
my second visitor seven months after Lord Takeo’s visit.

  My Human mind was attempting to interpret the memory of a blue giant I had once visited. It was as I wrestled to understand what a blue giant was that I heard her approach: instead of footsteps, a sustained slithering.

  I cried out when a green blaze filled the cavern and burned the back of my eyes.

  The green afterimage became a silhouette, and slowly, details pushed through the outline to form the folds and pleats of a sari. The woman’s blue-black hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, while her eyes—the colour of straw—were severe and conveyed a humourlessness that made me uneasy.

  She opened her mind to me, surprising me, because I thought I no longer had this ability.

  Standing before me was the Queen of Patalama, the Queen of Heaven Beneath the Earth, as the Humans referred to her. She was a natural consequence of this world’s creation and the souls that dwelled within it. She was a higher soul that oversaw the cycles of reincarnation for every living thing and judged whether their souls would be promoted or demoted, whether an individual soul was worthy of eventually becoming a Meijin. To the Meijin Council, she was the embodiment of impartiality. The Queen of Patalama answered to no one except the cosmic laws of reincarnation.

  The queen circled me, the door to her mind now closed. Her eyes betrayed nothing while they studied me. I tried to cover my nakedness.

  ‘I was created to ensure balance,’ she said. ‘As one soul leaves this world, ascends to become Meijin, I must create another to replace it. What you did created imbalance and upset the way of things. I had to create not one but two souls, Hotsuka. One for your soon-to-be born son and another to fill the space he will create when he ascends.’ She stopped, faced me and then placed her hand just below what would have been a Human’s navel. ‘The other is here,’ she said. ‘And it must remain here long after your son ascends.’

  ‘I have a son?’

  ‘Yes. He is not yet born, but he soon will be.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Because after my son is born, I expect you to help him and ensure that, when the time comes, he will be reborn a Meijin.’

  The implications of what she had said took me a while to comprehend. ‘I have a son,’ I said, ‘and I’ll be free of this cave before this world’s end?’

  The Queen of Patalama nodded.

  ‘But what about Lord Takeo, the Meijin Council’s punishment?’

  ‘The day you walk out of here will be the same day a war of superiority will be waged between the Mother Meijin and the Father Meijin. It will be fought down here and kept hidden from the rest of the Meijin Council. After it ends, the vanquished will step down, and the Council will be led solely by the victor.’

  Again, it took time to understand what I had just heard. There would be a war, down here, and I was the cause of it. But such a war could be avoided if I were not set free. So, what purpose did my freedom serve?

  ‘Mother Meijin will free you,’ the queen said.

  ‘Why? Why would she do such a thing?’

  The Queen of Patalama’s poise faltered.

  ‘I do not know,’ she said.

  ‘But you must. She must have sent you here.’

  The queen raised her head, one eyebrow arched. ‘I do not take sides. I have read the Skein of Time. I have foreseen most, but not all, of the events to come.’

  ‘But… Then why are you here?’

  ‘For my unborn son. Without your help, his next incarnation after this one will not be Meijin.’

  'But my getting involved will only make things worse, surely.'

  ‘A great struggle is coming. Things will get worse.’ She shook her head. ‘But not because of you.’

  ‘And what if I don’t help your son?’

  Again the raised eyebrow. ‘You will,’ she said. ‘If you want to be Meijin again.’

  I wanted to believe her. I knew about the Skein of Time and how the Meijin Council use it to foresee possible futures, but it was considered an unnecessary ability for one such as me. I would not have ended up floating in a cavern, alone in the dark, if I’d known how to.

  But I had no proof that what the queen had told me was the truth. And if it were all a lie, I had no idea why it was necessary. Becoming a Meijin again was more than I’d hoped for, but the disappointment of learning that I’d hung my hopes on a lie would be worse than my punishment.

  ‘There is no need to trust me,’ the queen said. ‘Soon, another will come and release you from this place. Once free, you will be taught to read the Skein. Then you will know that everything I have told you is the truth.’

  The light surrounding her began to fade. I blinked twice, then a third time when I thought she’d shrunk.

  ‘Wait!’ I said. ‘When will I be freed?’

  She gave no answer. Instead, the green glow that lit the walls and ceiling of the cavern retreated, leaving darkness in its wake. Just before it blinked out, I looked down at the spot where the Queen of Patalama had stood and saw the loose coils of a snake.

  3

  There was no grand entrance or tear-inducing light when Tenshi appeared. He announced his arrival with a friendly ‘Hello, Hotsuka.’

  That was when I realised he was a Djinni—the breath of Lady Shinju, Mother Meijin, made corporeal. At first, he was just a smiling beak-shaped mouth with large slab-shaped front teeth. Slowly, his features pushed past the blackness to reveal slanting pale-grey eyes that crinkled at the ends when he smiled. His head was topped with thick tufts of dark-grey dishevelled hair.

  If it were not for his greeting, I would never have guessed that this Djinni was one of Lady Shinju’s many alter egos.

  The Djinni pouted. ‘You guessed who sent me, Hotsuka.’

  For the first time in how long, I smiled. ‘I’m sorry, Lady Shinju.’

  ‘I’m not her. I’m Tenshi, her Djinni. I’m here so that Takeo won’t know you’re being helped.’

  A body appeared beneath the head. First a red coat, then olive-green trousers and finally, soft brown leather boots. The Djinni folded his arms across his chest. ‘I’m most disappointed in you, Hotsuka,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘What were you thinking?’ His arm shot out, his open palm held up. ‘Wait! Don’t answer that. I’m starting to sound like Takeo.’

  He circled me, darkness flooding the space he had occupied. ‘Look at you, naked, stuck in the air like that.’ I heard him tut and then saw him shaking his head again. ‘Do you know how many tears Lady Shinju has shed because of you?’

  I stared at him, confused. Meijin are formless; they do not cry.

  ‘Because of you, she has learned to cry,’ Tenshi said. ‘And when each tear touches this world, it becomes one of these.’ He unfastened the top loop of his coat and pulled out something long and dark. Tenshi stepped closer so that I could take a better look.

  He wore a string of pearls, black, each one faintly iridescent and perfectly round. Holding one between finger and thumb, he tugged it. I looked down and over my shoulder, expecting a shower of pearls to scatter across the cave’s floor. But nothing happened. The string of pearls still hung, intact, from his neck.

  ‘Not enough of you is either Human or Meijin, Hotsuka,’ he said, rolling the pearl between his fingertips. ‘There’s neither enough of you to be bound to this world nor enough of you to return to the Heavens. Which is why you float. Each of Lady’s Shinju’s tears contains an infinitesimally small piece of her mixed with this world.’ He flicked his wrist, causing a single strand of silver to spill from the surface of the pearl. Having gathered up the necklace and holding it pinched between the finger and thumb of both hands, he stood on tiptoes to hang it around my neck. Resting the pearl on my chest, he said, ‘But when you wear one of her tears, there’s no longer imbalance: you carry enough of the world to be bound to it, and you keep what remains of your Meijin qualities.’

  I felt heavier, more substantial. I pitched forward the instant my feet touched the ground, my m
uscles too weak to support my weight.

  ‘Steady,’ Tenshi said, catching hold of me. ‘Time to go.’

  Tenshi’s presence lit our way, most of my weight supported by his shoulder as I hobbled out of the cavern. We stopped when we reached the cave entrance, daylight making me squint and my forehead ache.

  ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’ Tenshi said.

  Though it pained me to do so, I opened my eyes a little more. Tenshi gazed at the wall to the left of the entrance. Initially, what I saw resembled tight scarlet curves painted on the wall. Slowly, the curves resolved into bodies, long and sinuous and covered in scales. The horned heads of the creatures had large, fierce mouths filled with rows of sword-like teeth, while their eyes blazed with an equal ferocity. There were four of them, each with two pairs of clawed feet. Although their outlines were scarlet, their bodies and scales were of different colours: one black, one white, one green and the other blue. It was difficult to tell if these creatures, their bodies wrapped around each other, were engaged in some kind of embrace or battle.

  ‘They’re Dragons,’ Tenshi said. ‘Takeo painted them as a warning to the Humans.’

  ‘Dragons?’