Path of Possession

by Harmon Cooper

  She lifted one of her arms, sand falling from it, a few of the grains picked up by the wind.

  “Why are you at this beach anyway?” Saruul cracked one of the clams against the rock, investigating it with her nose once the shell popped open.

  “They don’t smell like anything,” Roger told her. “Well, maybe they smell like fish. Just eat it. Slurp it up.”

  “We lion people don’t normally eat this type of seafood,” she said, still not sure about the clam. “It seems like some type of underwater insect, does it not?”

  “It’s good eating,” Roger assured her. “Did you hear what Nick said? Clams are like some kind of delicacy that they use for something called chowder where he is from. And listen to the sound of that word, ‘chowder.’”

  “A lot of people call it ‘chowda,’” I informed him.

  He started laughing. “That sounds like a name for a bastard snow lion with a heart of gold but a skull full of hot air.”

  “Watch it,” Saruul said as she set down the clamshell she had cracked open and went for another one.

  “I guess it’s a better name than Champa…”

  Saruul smirked. “Perhaps.” She returned her attention to the clam, still deciding if she was going to eat it or not. “My apologies, Nyima. You were saying?”

  “I guard this beach because there is a relic hidden in the sand far beneath it,” she said, motioning toward the beach, “something that is similar to your sword.”

  “Really?” Roger asked. “It turns to fire?”

  “No, not like that, I mean it is magical.”

  “Now you’re talking,” Roger told her with a grin as he rubbed his wings together. “And what do we have to do to go about getting this relic? We aren’t practitioners of the Path of Possession; we’re practitioners of the Path of Get-Anything-We-Can-To-Help-Us-Beat-Our-Next-Enemy, if you get my drift. ”

  She tilted her head in Roger's direction. “You would like the Cooling Fan of Broken Whispers?”

  The bird landed next to Saruul. He ripped the meat out of the first clam, swallowing it down. “I’m saying, let’s make a deal.”

  Nyima considered what he said for a moment. “I suppose there would be no reason to keep it from you, as you’ve already shown me mercy, and it may prove useful to your cause. Perhaps the karma I would reap in helping an Immortal would expedite a rebirth for me. But I don’t want to assume that.”

  “Crack that one,” Roger told Saruul quietly. “Yes, that one. It’s the biggest.”

  “Roger, listen to her,” Saruul said under her breath.

  “Seeing Nick look so famished has sparked an incredible hunger in me,” he said.

  I took over the conversation, not wanting Nyima to think Roger was being rude to her. “We didn’t come here for the Cooling Fan,” I told the sand spirit. “We just happened to show up on this shore; you know that.”

  “I’m aware; however, the fan is something that could come in handy to you,” she said. “But you must know by now that I can’t just give it away. I would need you to do something for me.”

  “What does the fan do?” Saruul asked.

  “It creates wind,” she said.

  Roger laughed. “I know a bird who can do that.”

  “Would you like to see it in action?”

  I looked to Saruul, and then back to Nyima. “Sure, show us.”

  “Just give me a moment,” she said as her form began to melt into the beach.

  “Where did she go?” Roger asked, looking up from the next clamshell that had been cracked open. “Also, Nick, you are going to want to get in on this action. I mean, they could use some seasoning, sure, but these little guys are mighty tasty.”

  “There are plenty,” I told him.

  “Not if she keeps cracking them and I keep eating them,” he said as the sand began to reform back into the body of a woman with the tail of a snake.

  Nyima now held a golden collapsible hand fan. As she opened it, I noticed that there were images of colorful birds stitched into the fabric of the fan.

  “I haven’t played with it in ages,” she said as she turned away from us, toward the sea.

  With a flick of her hand the wind began to pick up, cutting a ripple through the waves. She moved the fan even faster, and as she did so a line started to part in the water, wind swirling all around, the sand now filling the air.

  “Yep, we need that fan,” Roger said as she lowered the fan, a piece of clam still hanging out of the side of his beak.

  “I believe it will help you,” Nyima told us. “But I would need you to do something for me before I gave it to you. My family’s crypt is in Anand; I’m not able to visit it. I would like to know that it is well taken care of, and I believe, if the discussions I had with my family before I passed turn out to be the case, that there is a small wooden box in there that belongs to me. I know that I shouldn’t desire this object, but it was precisely the object that I killed for, and I would like to be the one that disposes of it. If that makes any sense.”

  “So you hired an assassin to kill someone for this box, and now you want it back so you can officially destroy, right?” Roger asked.

  Nyima nodded, and as she did so she slipped the fan into her body, the sand moving all around her and covering it up. “It was what was in the box that I was after. The box was made by my grandfather, and it once housed a bone hairclip. I’m sure that’s no longer there, but I would like the box.”

  “You killed for a hairclip?” Roger asked.

  “I did, that’s how sick I was. Anyway, I will take you there tomorrow. It shouldn’t be a very long walk. If we leave by sunrise, we will be in Anand before sunset. All I ask is that you bring me this box, back to the beach where I drop you off. Do that, and the Cooling Fan is yours.”

  “And while we’re in Anand, we can check with the monastery to see if they have heard anything about Lhandon,” I added. “If he shows up anywhere on this island, my guess is that it will be at a monastery. I’m going to assume that he would think that’s where we would look for him as well.”

  “Make sense. I’m sure they have some type of carrier pigeon, well, not pigeons because we’re on a tropical island. Are there pigeons here?” Roger asked Nyima.

  “No, but the monasteries and cities here do communicate through seagulls.”

  Roger snorted. “God, you people must be desperate. Anyway, I’ve already said my piece about seagulls. Fine. For some reason, they are useful here. If that’s how they do it here, then so be it. Saruul, could you crack another one? Roger is still hungry.”

  “Please don’t start referring to yourself by your own name,” she said with a frown.

  “Sorry, it’s something I do when I’m hungry.”

  “If Lhandon’s in another city, which we suspect he is, what would be the best way for us to get there?” I asked Nyima. “I mean, are there horses, something like that?”

  “The fastest way would be to get there by boat.”

  “No boats for the time being,” Saruul said as she swallowed her first clam. She considered it for a moment and made a disgusted face.

  “I assume that your friend would have made it to the Port of Sor, and since he is a foreigner, they would probably send him to be registered in Ganbold, which is along the bay. The waters there aren’t too tumultuous, and it is accessible from Anand. Unfortunately, there aren’t horses here, but if it helps you to conceptualize the island, it is shaped like a horseshoe.”

  Roger shook his head. “It really feels like someone is missing out on a marketing opportunity here.”

  “Why’s that?” she asked.

  “A horseshoe-shaped island without horses on it? That’s pure genius…”

  “We get plenty of tourists from the other kingdoms, and horses don’t fare well here. They don’t like the jungle, nor the snakes. It’s easier to travel by boat.”

  “So if the island is shaped like a horseshoe, which side are we on?” I asked.

  “If you’re lo
oking down at the horseshoe, we would be on the left prong, which is where you will find the city of Anand. Ganbold is in the middle of the horseshoe, the side that would naturally have a bay associated with it. The Port of Sor is across from Ganbold, facing Sarpang. The Port of Sor is about a day’s journey from Ganbold as long as the underbrush and the jungle hasn’t grown over. On the other prong of the horseshoe you will find Zol. Right now, because of Emperor Hugo, it may be safer for you in one of the outer cities. At least until you understand the laws better and have a few connections.”

  “Okay,” I said, finally sitting down with Saruul and Roger to start working on the clams. “Let’s rest here tonight. We will head to Anand tomorrow, and from there we will visit the local monastery and see about your family’s crypt.”

  “It’s going to be a busy day, isn’t it?” Roger asked with a yawn.

  “Yes, I do believe it is,” I told him.

  “As long as we don’t have to look at a boat for the next few days, I’m good,” Saruul said. “I can’t swim.”

  “Yes, you can,” Roger told her. “I just watched you swim today for several hours.”

  “Let me rephrase that: I don’t want to swim. I would rather go through the jungle.”

  Nyima nodded. “It is more dangerous to go through the jungle, but in doing so you will draw less attention to your cause. You do have a cause, don’t you?”

  “Actually, yes,” I told her as I picked up a wet clam. “We came here to find Hugo and to seek out a reincarnated monk. It looks like we are to have our first answer, and we will need to find Lhandon to get our second.”

  “You intend to meet with Emperor Hugo?” she asked me.

  “I do. Like I said, he’s an old friend of mine.”

  I sat by the shoreline, my legs crossed beneath me, my right hand cupped in my left.

  I imagined myself breathing all the way to the back of my skull, my breath coming through a tunnel.

  I had already done fifty or sixty prostrations and figured now would be as good a time as any to not only meditate, but also practice turning my time power off and on.

  The moon reflecting off the waves gave me something to stare at every time I opened my eyes to see if my power had actually worked.

  As it had before, activating my ability triggered a headache, especially after I had turned it on and off three or four times.

  Still, it was progress, and I spent the remainder of my meditation thinking about my time here in this world, and the enemies we’d made.

  While it felt like we were far away, I knew that Sona and Evan would catch up to us at some point. Perhaps it would be here in the Island Kingdom, or once we got back to Lhasa.

  There really was no telling at this point, but they had certainly made it to Sarpang, where they’d see what happened to Gomchen, the evil monk.

  It would be a hell of a battle when it finally went down, and the best option would be for me to stop time and kill them both swiftly.

  I could then turn my focus to whatever guards they brought with them.

  I knew that there was a lot going on in Lhasa, and that there was still the war between the Madames over resources in the Cultivation Hills. I didn’t know what had become of Nagchu, or Madame Mabel’s plantation, but I assumed there were issues there as well.

  I also wondered what power Hugo had.

  If he had already become emperor of a kingdom, I assumed he had some incredible new ability. And it wouldn’t be long until I found out firsthand what that ability was.

  I was able to end my meditation peacefully, my thoughts settled in at the far corner of my mind, a calmness coming over me.

  Once I was finished, I made my way over to Saruul, who had morphed into her lion form and was lying on her side.

  I laid down next to her, placing my arm around her. She turned her head to me and licked my face, her sandpaper tongue rough against my skin.

  “I think I had too many clams,” Roger groaned. The bird was splayed out, his wings wide, his belly distended.

  “I told you not to eat so many,” Nyima whispered to him.

  “They were so goddamn good, though,” he said. “You have the best clams, Nyima.”

  She chuckled. “Why does the way you’re saying that make me feel uncomfortable?”

  Roger tried to laugh but ended up groaning instead.

  I drifted off to sleep with a smile on my face. When I woke I noticed that the water was closer to us now, Nyima still watching over us.

  “Morning,” I told her as I sat up. Saruul started to wake up as well, and as she did she morphed back into her human form.

  “Sometimes it’s easier to sleep in that form,” she explained, one of her ears twitching.

  “Actually, it was a little breezy last night; I’m glad I was next to you.”

  “Stealing my warmth?”

  “Is that bad karma?” I asked.

  I looked to my left to see that Roger was still asleep on his back, one wing over his stomach now.

  “We should go now,” Nyima said, “especially if we hope to reach Anand before sunset.”

  By this point, my robes were dry, and after I put them on I buckled my belt, my sword sheathed at my side. I woke Roger, who grumbled at first, but eventually hopped onto my shoulder.

  As we walked, Roger fell asleep again, at one point faceplanting into the sand. This seemed to wake him up enough to actually fly, which he did for the next several hours before getting tired again and riding on my shoulder.

  It seemed like we were just walking along the beach forever, but eventually the amount of sand started to diminish, replaced by flora and tropical trees.

  I didn’t have much experience with tropical environments, New England isn’t known for its palm trees. It was odd seeing the lushness of the encroaching jungle, the insects, flowers, and other plants sometimes twice my height. There was also the fruit that came with it, Saruul, Roger and I sharing juicy berries and mangoes that Nyima pointed out to us.

  The sugar from the fruit definitely gave me a boost, and walking on solid land was better than walking closer to the beach, my calves throbbing from walking on the sand.

  What would have been a peaceful trip quickly changed to something else entirely when we came to a body that had been tied to a palm tree. The man’s head had been penned in a cage, leaving the rest of his body to be picked over by animals.

  “Disgusting,” Nyima said, hanging her head in shame.

  “Is this some kind of torture?” I asked. “No, torture isn’t necessarily designed to kill. This…”

  “No, it’s not torture,” Nyima said as we looked at the body.

  A few chunks of the thigh were still bloated, discolored, flies and maggots crawling over what was left of the internal organs. The insects had gotten into the person’s face as well, eating their eyes, their larvae visible in the body’s open mouth.

  “How utterly barbaric,” Saruul finally said, holding her head up high, as if she was trying to stop from breathing through her nose.

  “Let’s continue,” Roger said, a seriousness to the way he spoke that I hadn’t heard from him recently.

  We made our way deeper into the jungle, eventually coming back to another beach, Nyima’s form growing in size as grains of sand cascaded up her body. We kept on the beach for another hour or two, all of us mostly silent, focused on just getting there.

  Eventually, we reached a path that led through a dense bit of jungle, my eyes immediately jumping to bodies that had been tied to the trees lining the path.

  “Jesus,” I said, ignoring the inquisitive look Saruul gave me as to what that word could possibly mean.

  There were ten bodies, each tied to the trunk of a tree, each in various states of decay with cages around their heads.

  “Gah!” Roger said. “And what kind of animal eats from these bodies anyway? Clearly not an educated one. This has bad karma written all over it.”

  “No, this has Emperor Hugo written all over it,” Nyima said.r />
  “You really think he’s responsible for this?”

  She nodded at me. “From what I’ve gathered, Emperor Hugo has taken it upon himself to personally eliminate any enemies he may have in the kingdom. This is one of the ways he is doing it. I saw something similar near the beach I protected.”

  “Do you think any of them are alive?” Roger asked.

  “There’s only one way to find out,” I said as I approached the trail of bodies.

  Movement in the trees caught my attention, my hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of my Flaming Thunderbolt. I glanced up to see an orange monkey with a blue face moving from limb to limb. Hanging from the monkey's lips was a strip of flesh.

  “Well, the monkeys here are fucked in the head, but we already knew that,” Roger commented.

  I came to the first set of bodies, noticing that they clearly weren’t breathing.

  The next two were dead, as were the two after that. It was when I came to the last row that I saw one of the bodies twitch.

  It was a young woman with feathery hair, her nude body covered in scratches and black marks. I instinctively traced my Healing Hand ability.

  “Hey,” I called to the others, who were still at the start of the tied bodies. Once Saruul joined me, I placed my hand on the woman’s elbow.

  The blemishes on her skin started to soften.

  She gasped; her eyes fluttered open she started to scream, trying to free herself from the tree, her head rattling in the cage.