Free The Shattering Waves (The Year of the Dragon, Book 7) by James Calbraith Page A

deliver something very important and valuable. But that proved a mistake — for which I apologise unreservedly.”
    He bowed so deep, his forehead almost touched the floor. This took Satō aback. The last thing she expected from the Fanged was an apology for Ganryū’s actions.
    “You’re lying,” she said through clenched teeth. “ You slaughtered my companions in battle; you’ve abducted and tortured me. I still can’t move for pain.”
    He nodded with a sad, concerned face. “We had to force you to reveal your true potential. This required some drastic action. As I said, we are short on time. I hope you will be able to forgive us.”
    It appeared he had an answer to everything. She searched her memory for more accusations. The heady, sickly smell of blood and the exhaustion from Yodo’s torments clouded her mind.
    “What about Heian? You’ve destroyed an entire city. My husband died there.”
    “We?” He gave her a wounded look. “That was a barbarian dorako, acting on orders from the Taikun. We merely offered some assistance in battle against the rebels, hoping to protect the city. Your husband died a hero.”
    “That’s it—” She snapped her fingers, glad at last to have found blame to pin on the Fanged. “You support the Taikun against the Mikado and the uprising. No matter what else you say, this makes us enemies.”
    “And why wouldn’t we? He is the rightful ruler of this country.”
    “He is a tyrant who bows to barbarian invaders!”
    Yui traced the edge of the cup with his fingers. “Barbarians … like your friend, Bran- sama ?”
    “He’s … he’s different.”
    “Your father’s friends from Dejima, then? Or the priestess’s father, Von Siebold? The Dracalish who support the rebels? Those barbarian invaders?”
    She struggled to find an answer to that.
    The Fanged pushed the tray away. “I see you are confused and weak. Why won’t you go back to your room. We’ll return to this conversation tomorrow.”

CHAPTER VI
    Satō’s torments didn’t end after the meeting with Yui. The moment she stepped out of the octagonal room, she felt an exhilarating pain, as the thin blade sliced through her kidneys. Lady Yodo threw her bleeding out onto the floor of the holding cell, forcing the wizardess to expend all the precious energy on healing the wound all over again.
    The breakfast next morning was brought by an automated servant, whirling gears and clacking pulleys. Satō guessed they did not want to tempt her with a living, bleeding human. The food also changed from her usual fare. The fish was alive, pinned to a wooden board with a knife through its gills. Instead of pickles or seaweed, the third plate contained an entire heart, still warm, freshly torn out from some small animal. She devoured it all, consumed with shame and pain.
    Once again she was brought to the octagonal room, the tray and cups set up before her. She sniffed the flask — the smell was different this time.
    “It’s deer’s blood today,” explained Yui. “You will learn to tell them apart in no time. The pig’s blood, we found, is the closest in taste and regenerative potential to that of a human — but we’d have to buy it from the Bataavians, and that is difficult for the moment.”
    She felt wretched at the thought of drinking blood again. Until recently, she hadn’t even been eating any red meat. Her stomach lurched, threatening to expel the entire content of the breakfast. Her hands grew cold and clammy; she shivered all over.
    Yui poured himself the red liquid and downed it. He wiped his lips and whiskers with a silk handkerchief. Not a single drop stained the snow-white robe.
    “So, Takashima- sama . What are your rebels fighting for?” he asked. “Why did you join them? Think carefully before you answer.”
    This wasn’t an easy question, and they both knew it. There was a great disparity of goals among the various factions. Nariakira had his own selfish agenda. Mori, too, and even the