Free City of Death by Laurence Yep Page A

the command. But I suspect you’ve become pawns of a court intrigue.” The Keeper rested her beak upon a forepaw and then swung her gaze thoughtfully toward Scirye. “Your father is an important member of the reform party at the court. The conservatives are probably trying to strike at him and his cause indirectly by accusing you and your friends of some crime.”
    â€œMy father?” Scirye asked.
    â€œYes, the Princess Maimantstse is the leader of the reformers and your father is her right hand,” the Keeper explained. “You didn’t know?”
    â€œI don’t get to see him much,” Scirye explained. “He stayed in Bactra while I went with my mother when she was posted to embassies in other countries. When he visited us, he never talked about those things to me.”
    â€œHe didn’t want to trouble you,” Kles said.
    â€œI can accept that,” Scirye said accusingly, “but how come you never told me about his situation, Kles?”
    Kles shrugged apologetically. “I tried, but you always got bored whenever I tried to talk about current events. The only thing you wanted to hear about were the Pippalanta.” The Pippalanta were a famous band of female warriors whom the Europeans and Americans insisted on calling Amazons. Scirye had developed an interest in them when her own sister, Nishke, had joined them.
    Of all of them, Scirye seemed to be taking the arrest the hardest, but that was only to be expected. The girl lived her life by Tumarg, the code of honor by which Kushan warriors lived, and yet her father’s enemies had still managed to accuse her of as yet unspecified crimes. A blow to one’s faith was as bad as a blow to the head.
    â€œBut this isn’t right,” Scirye grumbled. “It’s not—.”
    â€œTumarg?” the Keeper supplied. “No, it isn’t, but the conservatives often twist that word for their own selfish reasons. Just as they often manipulate the laws to get what they want.”
    â€œI’m liking these characters less and less,” Koko declared.
    â€œI have no love for them either,” the Keeper said. “If they had their way, they would turn the clock back a thousand years. We griffins would not have the freedoms we have today.”
    Bayang had not survived this long without learning how to master her own fury. An emotional assassin was soon a dead one. “We have no choice,” she said to the others. “We have to go to Bactra or give the conservatives even more ammunition against Scirye’s father and his group.”
    â€œAnd do not underestimate the princess and Lord Tsirauñe,” the Keeper advised. “They will right this wrong as they have others. And I will tell the court as well that this is a miscarriage of justice. And my opinion carries not a little weight in Bactra. But you yourselves are the best ones to convince them.”
    â€œAnd while we’re telling the truth, Roland could be taking over the world,” Scirye objected.
    â€œEven if I could refuse my emperor, I cannot refuse my friend, your father,” the Keeper soothed her. “In addition to the imperial order was a request from Lady Scirye’s father that I send her to him.”
    â€œOh, just great,” Leech grumbled. Raised in an orphanage and then surviving in the streets of San Francisco, he’d never known his parents. Family obligations were just words to him.
    Bayang understood though. “He’s worried about Scirye, but it’s an awkward time for that.”
    The Keeper nodded. “Yes, it’s unfortunate. And now I am ashamed of what I have to do next.” She clapped her paws together, and griffin mages with sashes emblazoned with stars and crescents entered.
    Koko put a paw to his neck uneasily. “Nothing involved with chopping off heads, is it? I sort of like mine where it is.”
    â€œNo, but I have been commanded to place