That night I made my way deep into the winding streets of the ancestral district, to a corner of the City of Lanterns that was home to the capital's most ancient and prestigious shrines. Now, it was deep in disrepair. I stood beside the last low-hanging lantern before a narrow, unlit alley ahead like a man standing on a pier hesitant to jump into currents of darkness.

  If there was any place for someone to disappear beneath the surface it was here.

  Reading Noble Lion’s instructions once more, I reached up to the light and burned them. If I was captured by the wolf’s men, or killed by some back-alley cutthroat, I didn’t want to take one of my few friends with me.

  Feeling my way forward in near total darkness for what felt like a long time, I came up against a door, solid but old and covered in moss and mold, then heaved my way through.

  I found myself in a private cemetery, surrounded by uneven walls of ancient fieldstone.

  Scanning the tops of the walls, the roofs crowding in around them, the shadows behind the shrines, I kept waiting for the line of crossbows to peak out at any moment, or the assassins to come wafting around me like heavy incense smoke. When nothing happened after a heartbeat, another, a third, I pressed forward into the gravesite, reciting the next phrase of the directions.

  Small crumbling constructions dotted the inner courtyard like tiny archaic houses no taller than myself, shrines to especially influential ancestors of the clans that had built the City of Lanterns. I searched for the marker described in the note. It was a palace in miniature with a few poetic lines dedicated to one Yuan Liang, called the Lion Mystic of the Golden Lion clan, and I had no trouble finding it.

  There was a small alcove within and when I pressed to the seam on the north wall, it ground inward on a hidden hinge. From there I descended a tight staircase in now-complete darkness… until I heard hushed voices and saw the flicker of candlelight deep within.

  I gripped my sword. As was usual whenever I left Windstopper behind to protect River, I felt isolated and exposed. But if the note was some ploy of Dreadwolf’s to test my loyalty, there would have been no need to wait this long to spring the trap.

  I emerged into a miniature Hall of Sixty-Four, this one only a few paces wide set into a natural cave formation. I had to stoop to avoid stalactites, and here and there a character or a series of lines had been scrawled on spars of prehistoric rock jutting up from the floor.

  There were several men and women I didn’t recognize, standing in a clump talking quietly, but the conversation halted upon my arrival. We stared at each other in mutual distrust for a moment, until Noble Lion’s emerged from behind them.

  “Ah, good,” said the handsome young lord, moving to embrace me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.”

  “I’m here,” I said, still wary of the others I hadn’t met. “Wherever here is.”

  “A very old family tomb,” Lion said, gesturing to the sarcophagi that lined the natural cavern walls, and then to the floor. “My great great grandfather was an Emperor’s philosopher in the days before the Wang Mang uprising. It was from here that my ancestor guided Liu Qin to restore the Han, with this city as its new Eastern Capital. Actually… there might have been another great or two in there.” He thought for a minute then waved it off.

  “As auspicious a meeting place as any,” I said guardedly, still trying to place the five other faces. “Why are we here?”

  “In good time,” said Noble Lion. “First, introductions. This is Brass Bell, she's the chief of Moon’s Reflection.”

  I had heard of the town; it was just outside the city and had suffered greatly at the hands of Dreadwolf’s men while he had consolidated power. When Brass Bell nodded to me I nodded back.

  “This is Ghostcaller and Celestial Master. They’ve been, um, called,” Noble Lion cast the two men a sheepish look, “to defend the people.”

  I had never seen the woman dressed in gray rags before, the one called Ghostcaller, but I suddenly recognized the second man, this Celestial Master, as one of the heirs of a warlord and spiritual leader from just southwest of the capital. Celestial Master was from a distant branch of the same family, I had read, that had spawned the three rebel brothers whom we had all fought for the last five years. Apparently that unique blend of militarism and spirituality ran in the family; perhaps something to do with the Mandates their bloodline tended to manifest.

  “This is Snow Leopard of the Leopard clan and Camel King of the Camel clan. Should be easy enough to remember. They represent the people in the northwest regions who have no interest in serving a wolf.”

  I had heard both of their names before, as they were both key players in a complicated rebellion that had resulted in them splitting power in the northwesternmost reaches. The northwest corner of the Land Under Heaven sported some of the widest variety of terrains known to man, and they were all equally harsh. Camel King wore high thick boots of hair, as if he had just walked out of the desert, and Snow Leopard… well, he wore thick snow leopard fur that would have kept him warm in even the most extreme cold. These were hard men from a hard land, and no one, not even the three from more civilized lands, had bothered presenting their pendants for a formal introduction.

  More importantly, I was sensing a theme here. “Four powerful warlords neighboring the capital districts, and a village chief just outside the city itself. Seems you have the capital nearly surrounded.”

  “Ah, there’s the Sparrow I know. Straight to the heart of the matter,” said Noble Lion, only slightly put off by my abruptness, “Shall we begin, then?”

  All in attendance gave their assent with various sub-vocalizations – grunts, grumbles, melodic hums and polite nodding.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  Casting a glance at each of his co-conspirators, Noble Lion turned to me. “It's important to mention up front, Sparrow, that once we begin, there’s no backing out. Even if you choose to walk away after tonight, you’ll forever be implicated until the deed is done. If you truly want to keep your head down, now would be the time to leave.”

  I knew Lion to be the type of person who could reframe just about anything to end up on the right side of the moral divide, but it was not like him to be so circumspect. This last year must have strained him to his limits. Still, River had told me to hear Lion out, and she always knew more than she let on, so it stood to reason she already knew what this little band of rebels would ask of me and the risks it might pose.

  Finally, having considered it, I shrugged.

  “You’re still here,” said Noble Lion.

  “And still not entirely sure why,” I said.

  “The point is simple,” said Noble Lion. “Dreadwolf is a traitor to the Land Under Heaven, and it's our duty to save Emperor Spotted Deer from him. But if that’s not enough for you Sparrow, he’s raping the Imperial concubines, killing villagers and their families for fun, and chopping up his ministers if they do anything other than vehemently agree with him. The nation can’t survive like-”

  “Let me stop you there.” I held up a hand. “Of course excising the ‘Prime Minister’ from the capital is in the best interest of pretty much everyone, but am I wrong to say that it just so happens that the only ones willing to do anything about it are the ones who have the most to gain from his sudden demise?”

  I looked to the two rugged Northwestern Warlords who would likely absorb Wolf’s Hollow, the land Dreadwolf had carved out for himself in the decades prior to making a play for the capital. The two spiritual leaders in the south would push north to the very walls of the capital if they had half the chance. And who knows what this chief from the neighboring town hoped to gain from this. Maybe Minister of Works one day?

  There was no response from any of them, so I forged ahead, with or without their assent.

  “I also take it that I wasn’t invited here for my own talent and virtue, but because my father holds the largest tract of land east of the capital, thus could conceivably have access to one of the largest armies. If I could rope my father in, it would complete the encirclement. Except for the Land of the Shepherds in the north, of course. But let's be honest. Who would be dumb enough to flee in that direction?”

  Brass Bell looked at her feet, the two spiritual leaders appeared distracted by the aether, and the warlords wore steely visages that would have been right at home between my father and uncle.

  “Don’t get me wrong. By all means, profit from virtue. The only thing I’m missing,” I went on, when no one replied to my latest sarcastic indictment, “is what’s in it for you, Lion?”

  Lion had at least enough humility and shame to not reply on his own behalf, but still I seem to have struck a nerve.

  It was Brass Bell who stepped forward. “Lion’s been exiled to Frozen Bay,” she said. “If he’s in the capital tomorrow at dawn, he’ll be executed.”

  “But I’m not leaving,” said Noble Lion, before that could sink in for me. “I’d rather let them take my head than take my family’s land! The appointment to Frozen Bay is just an excuse to stop me from holding Lion’s Reach. They want to carve it up for themselves, and without me, my father’s too old and tired to stop them.”

  “And,” I said, trying to work through the implications, “Golden Goat?” Golden Goat was technically the oldest offspring of the Golden Lion clan, and was from a primary wife, besides, while it was well-known that Noble Lion was the son of a chambermaid.

  Noble Lion snorted. “Goat fled the moment he smelled wolves.”

  “He’s in the Blood Haunt,” said the old woman who had been introduced as Ghostcaller, “Under the Spirit clan’s protection. For now.” It was the first time she had spoken, and her voice chilled me, as if speaking directly to my soul.

  But, to be honest, I didn’t care a whit about Golden Goat. He didn’t deserve to inherit one of the most powerful holdings in the Land Under Heaven. Noble Lion did. Which is why it was such a shame that I had to tell him what he needed to hear, instead of the justice my heart yearned for.

  “You have to leave,” I said to Lion. “Take what the wolf gives you and wait him out in Frozen Bay. If all else fails, you’ll be right next to the Stallion Coast with friends who can come to your aid.”

  Noble Lion looked to the others in the group, exchanging significant looks with a few of them. Clearly I was not the first person to suggest this course of action.

  “What? Have you and White Stallion cut things off?”

  “No. No, we’re as strong as ever, in fact.”

  “Then I don’t understand. Why don’t you heed my advice, heed all of our advice and live to fight another day?”

  Lion spun and let out a frustrated growl. His Yellow Mandate suffused the cavern with an ancient, musty smell and a stalagmite flatted into the ground, clearing a tile on the floor of sixty-four. I didn’t know he could do that; he must have been training hard with his Mandate this past year and his powers were clearly growing. No, his power had always been monumental. Now they were more… refined.

  “I’ve lived too many of my days hoping to fight another day! I’ve backed down from him too many times already! If all I’m good for is waiting, then what right do I even have to rule Lion’s Reach?”

  “Oh?” I cocked an eyebrow as River might. Maybe she was rubbing off on me. “So you’d rather your mark upon history be some honorable thing you did or some memorable thing you said just before you were chopped to bits? Take it from someone who’s been there, Lion, there have been far too many proud people dead on Dreadwolf’s orders already for anyone to remember one more. No. When your only other option is to die in the street like a dog, what choice do you have but to fall back?”

  Lion rounded on me, and his eyes were so fierce with belief that I almost retreated a step. “What if there was a way,” he said, half-crazed, “to hold Lion’s reach and keep the land from falling into chaos?”

  “But I thought you said-”

  “Dreadwolf is just the beginning,” Lion pressed on. “When his time comes, every warlord in the Land Under Heaven will begin making their play. It will be anarchy, and the more we can steady the realm the less the people will suffer. But give up Lion’s Reach now, let the wolf carve up more of our lands before we can curtail him, and there will be nothing left of the Land Under Heaven but blood and bones when we finally get around to action.

  “You say we’re the ones who have the most to gain from Dreadwolf losing his holdings. I say we’re the only ones to keep this land from falling into chaos once he’s gone. If it were just about taking him out, I wouldn’t bat an eyelash at trading my life for his. But that’s not possible, unless I were willing to doom a whole province to my brother’s ineptitude. Besides, it's not good enough just to kill a regent. That’s revenge, not reform. There needs to be a plan in place for what happens after we kill the regent. And if we wait too long, there will be no stopping the vultures from flocking to the corpse.”

  “So we are talking about assassination.” I said, our purpose finally out in the open… as much as it could be in a cave in a tomb in a forgotten alleyway of the city.

  Noble Lion looked to each of his co-conspirators. They each nodded, a silent vote, and then Noble Lion looked to me once more. “Yes. And it needs to happen tonight.”