by Ryan Kirk
Delun raced through the possibilities. “I didn’t expect the wraiths to be focused on cooperation. How will that bring us the authority we seek?”
He couldn’t imagine a world in which Chao’s vision came true, but the man’s certainty shook him. Chao’s stated ideal stood almost directly opposed to the current reality. In any other man, Delun would have expected madness. But Chao’s eyes were clear and piercing.
“I cannot tell you now,” Chao said. “You must forgive me, but until you earn my trust, my faith in you is incomplete. For now, suffice it to say that the empire is rotten at its very core. Soon enough, everyone will know, and they will look to us for leadership. You won’t doubt my word on that day.”
Delun didn’t know what to think. Part of him was beginning to believe, though. Chao’s claims struck him more as the calculated gamble of a master general than the ravings of a madman.
Delun’s willingness to believe frightened him.
He needed to understand.
Chao changed the direction of the conversation again. He pushed a small pile of papers over to Delun. “If you want to know more, start here. This is all we know about the Order of the Serpent. We never imagined they had the resources or organization to pull off the attacks. But we are certain they are based here. This is all the information we’ve gathered. It’s slim, but it will get you started.”
Chao motioned at the tattoo on his arm. “Take down the Order of the Serpent, and if you wish, you may join our cause.”
Finally. The wraiths intrigued him, but they mattered little compared to the opportunity to hunt the Serpent. Now he could track down those responsible for murdering his brothers. He didn’t hesitate. It didn’t matter if this tied him more closely to the wraiths. He grabbed the papers.
“I’ll begin today.”
12
Morning dawned on Kulat, the skies overcast and threatening a late-season rain. For all that, though, Yang’s students sounded excited to have a mission handed down straight from the emperor.
Lei understood. He too had once been young and eager to tackle the problems in front of him. His primary problem as a young man had been finding money for drink, but still, he understood.
Shu rounded up all the students before Yang arrived in the courtyard. Lei watched her as she did. The woman wasn’t an instinctive leader. The others looked to her because of her age, but their respect didn’t seem to go much deeper. Lei considered mentioning his observation to Yang but held his tongue. No doubt the abbot had already noticed the same.
When Yang arrived, he inspected them briefly, then turned to Lei. “What do you think?”
“They’re eager.”
“That they are. You’ll join us on the way out?”
“I’ll leave you at the intersection.”
Yang looked tired but excited. The mission given by the questioner presented his students and his cause an incredible opportunity. But leaving the monastery required no small amount of preparation, especially for Yang. Abbots didn’t have the freedom to pack up and wander around the empire. The monastery still needed guidance in his absence.
For the moment, though, excitement overwhelmed whatever exhaustion Yang suffered from. With a gesture, the monks walked toward the gate.
Lei took up a position near the rear of the loose column. The students would walk out of Kulat, then take a horse and cart the rest of the way. The journey to Jihan was a long one.
Lei noted the manner in which Yang’s students interacted with the citizens of Kulat. The journey out of the city was much slower than he expected. The monks stopped frequently to speak with a shopkeeper or answer a question from a child. Yang never hurried a disruption. He answered Lei’s impatient look with a smile. “This is our true work. Protecting the princess is vital to the empire, but I doubt the difference of an hour or two will matter much. Every connection we create or strengthen today brings us that much closer to peaceful coexistence.”
Lei agreed. He had spent little time in Kulat, but Yang’s words rang true. His philosophy worked. Lei knew he was seeing the result of a decade of dedicated effort, but Kulat gave him hope where none had existed before.
Monks and citizens, living and working side by side.
Lei hadn’t thought he would see the day.
The procession worked its way down the main thoroughfare of Kulat, still a solid half mile away from the gate.
A flash of fabric above them was the only warning Lei had. On distant rooftops to each side of the street, archers appeared, arrows already nocked. Lei’s instincts kicked in, a shield covering him in an instant.
He shouted, but too late.
Arrows split the air. Some found flesh while others skipped off the stone of the road. Two slammed against Lei’s shield and broke.
“To me!” Yang cried.
Lei advanced, his eyes roving back and forth as citizens and students alike scrambled for safety. The students ran toward Yang. The citizens fled to side streets and houses.
Certain that he wouldn’t hurt anyone, Lei dropped his first shield and cast another, this one almost as wide as the street itself. It surrounded all the students, even the ones unmoving on the ground.
A dozen arrows hit the shield before the archers realized what happened.
Lei figured he could ignore them for a moment. His shield was cast and he could hold it for some time. The immediate danger had passed.
Yang and Shu both shouted orders, herding the dazed students closer together. Four lay on the ground. Lei couldn’t sense anything from them.
Yang had an arrow sticking out of his arm, but he barely seemed to notice. He looked at Lei. “Thank you.”
Lei just nodded, allowing Yang to continue his work gathering the students. Within a moment they were all huddled together. Lei considered casting a smaller shield but decided against it. They were safe enough.
His attention turned toward the rooftops. He’d expected to find them empty.
They were anything but.
A dozen men stood calmly about a block away on the roofs, bows held loosely, arrows nocked and ready for use.
What were they waiting for?
They had set their ambush. Wise men would have left as the monks gathered.
So why hadn’t they?
The archers looked expectant. Were they waiting for his shield to drop?
Lei’s thoughts raced. That made little sense. His shield was invisible to them. The only way to test it would be to fire arrows at it. No one did. They weren’t waiting for his shield.
He looked around. Something tickled the edges of his attention, but he couldn’t bring the detail to his conscious mind.
Then his eyes settled on a cart ten paces ahead of the huddled monks. Its owners had abandoned it when the attack began.
And it was filled with barrels.
Lei swore.
He took a quick step into the center of the huddled monks and cast another, smaller, shield around them. He kept his first, larger shield up, too.
That much powder would destroy the buildings in the immediate vicinity. Anyone inside was as good as dead. That was why the archers had kept their distance.
But holding two shields required incredible strength and focus. Lei gritted his teeth as his will focused his power.
Even inside the second shield the force of the explosion threw unsuspecting monks to the ground.
Lei had caught the barrels between his two shields. He protected the living students and the buildings outside his larger shield.
Lei barely kept his balance as the ground trembled underfoot. The force of the blast slammed against his shields with an almost living rage. Lei groaned as his shields threatened to buckle. He hadn’t been prepared to channel this much power.
The air beyond the smaller shield filled with fire. For a moment, it blotted out the sun. An inferno surrounded Lei and the students, burning against the invisible wall Lei held.
Smoke quickly replaced flame, and Lei released his outer shield
. The smoke and dust began to clear, revealing the incredible damage the blast, focused by Lei’s shields, had done.
The road beyond Lei’s small shield was destroyed, a circular moat carved into the stone all around them. It ended in a sharp cutoff where Lei’s larger shield had held.
It destroyed beyond recognition the bodies of the four who had fallen. Lei glimpsed shattered remains and looked away.
Lei still held on to the second shield. It was all that protected them from the dangers beyond. A few arrows struck the invisible wall, but after the inferno, he barely noticed. After a minute the arrows stopped falling, the archers realizing monks still lived and were protected.
A high-pitched wail escaped from one of Yang’s students. The horror of the past few minutes finally dawned on her. Her friends were lost.
Lei looked up at the rooftops. Now the archers were gone, their horrible ambush complete.
Lei sat on a bench at the monastery. For all his strength, he had no skill in healing. He’d bandaged a few wounds and helped how he could. Blood from Yang’s students stained his clothes. Yet his efforts felt pathetic. Outside of a fight, what good was he?
Evening had fallen when Yang stumbled out and collapsed on the bench. If he’d been exhausted before, he now looked like a walking corpse. He was dead on his feet, but Lei didn’t doubt the abbot still had work to be done.
“How bad?” Lei asked.
“Five dead. One in no condition to travel.”
Lei did the math. “Six are ready?”
Yang nodded. “I will send them in the morning. The princess still needs protection.”
“They know?”
Yang nodded again, too tired to speak.
“I will escort them to the intersection.” Lei knew his offer wasn’t much, but it was still all he was willing to give.
Yang stared at his palms, as though they had answers for him. “How can you have so much power, see so much, and still not act?”
They’d spoken of this before. Yang already knew Lei’s answer. He just didn’t believe it held even after the ambush.
Lei had unleashed his power in Jihan over thirty years ago. Thousands of lives were saved that night, but dozens, if not hundreds, were lost. To unveil his full ability now risked far more. But no rationale would ease Yang’s anger. Lei’s quick reactions and incredible strength had saved all who still breathed, but Yang only thought of those who were gone. Lei couldn’t fault the man for that.
Yang took a deep, steadying breath. “I will remain here with those who are injured. I must heal the wounds of my students and of my city. Shu will lead the students to protect the princess.”
Lei thought of her trying to gather the students that morning. Protecting the princess seemed a responsibility beyond her. “You trust her?”
“I must. There is no one else.” He gave Lei a pointed glance. “That is unfair of me. She struggles to act as a leader should, but she will not fail.”
A long silence stretched between the old acquaintances. Lei hesitated, unsure about bringing up the topic that had troubled him since the attack.
But the abbot had to know. “Yang, few people knew we were leaving. You only decided last night.”
Lei left the rest unspoken. Besides the questioner, every person who had known of the departure was within the monastery. More than likely, the information for the ambush had come from someone close to Yang.
“The same problem troubles me.”
There was little else to say. This wasn’t Lei’s fight, and Yang knew the risks. He’d taken many others over the years. Anything Lei might add was meaningless. Yang would seek whoever had betrayed them. Lei almost felt sorry for them. Yang’s ideas were ahead of his time, but he knew well the use of violence.
Still, Lei worried for the abbot. “Be careful.”
“I will.” Yang stood up, the effort appearing to take much of his remaining strength. He started walking away, calling softly over his shoulder as he did. “You can’t hide in exile forever, Lei. Soon you will have to choose.”
13
Hien walked steadier than before, but her injuries still bothered her. She tried to hide her pain and discomfort, but Bai’s eyes were sharp. They missed little, and Bai worried for her friend.
The journey back to the village was not a short one. Galan sat on the opposite edge of the empire from Windown and Jihan. Even though the two women made good time, the journey still took longer than either of them wished. Hien rested in the back of a cart most days. The inactivity made her irritable, but her long experience taught her that rest was vital. She bore the forced relaxation as well as she could.
Bai feared Hien’s injuries were worse than they appeared. They’d determined Hien’s captors had cracked several of her ribs, left her bruised from head to toe, and possibly caused damage to her head when they captured her.
Hien’s tale of the ambush was brutal. The monks had been expecting her. They hid well and barely restrained their attacks. Hien described herself as a leaf blown about by competing tornados.
Bai was just grateful Hien lived. She didn’t care to contemplate the loss of her friend.
Hien’s injuries forced her to consider her own decisions.
For the past few years she had wandered throughout the empire. Hien summoned her occasionally to help with a task, but most of Bai’s life was lived on the road. She sought monks who terrorized communities and brought them to justice.
Her wanderings only brought her into conflict with one or two monks a year, though. The empire was vast, and she was only one person. Her odds of running into any specific behavior were slim. She also believed that word of her deeds was spreading. The monks in Windown represented an extreme, but she’d been tracked down twice before.
Her decision to wander the empire came from her own experiences growing up. Monks had held Galan in the grip of fear before the Massacre of Kulat had brought the monastery crashing to the ground. Continuing that work had seemed a natural choice.
The path had also been easy. What good were her gifts if she didn’t fight monks?
Hien made her doubt.
The woman had been Bai’s closest ally for ten years. While Bai enjoyed being at her physical peak, the years relentlessly stripped away Hien’s strengths one at a time. The warrior would be dangerous for many years to come, Bai knew that. But the signs were already clear for anyone to see. A younger Hien would have healed from these injuries much more quickly. She was getting too old for this work, but what else did the warrior have left?
Hien had a home in Lei’s village, but she spent little time there. She’d never found a purpose that included time at home. And it almost cost her everything.
Bai loved Hien, but she didn’t want to be fighting in her fifties.
She yearned for something more.
Hunting monks had its place, but it made little difference. Citizens appreciated her efforts, but the empire still crumbled beneath her feet.
Perhaps she should travel to Kulat and visit Yang. Hien’s hope for her future wasn’t without merit. If others like her trained there, as the rumors suggested, the possibilities were tantalizing.
The idea didn’t thrill her, though. Bai detested taking orders from anyone. She had spent her entire youth under the thumb of wealthy clients who demanded much but rewarded little. Though she respected Yang, the very thought of monastic life chafed at her own vision of her future.
The tops of the mountains of their home range came into view. Bai shook her head to clear the thoughts away. Someday she would solve her life. Today, she was home.
They caused a commotion when they entered the village, as Bai expected they would. Hien was a local hero, and no small number of women in the village were here because Hien had brought them to start a new life.
Together, they carried Hien home. Bai breathed easier knowing her friend would receive more care and attention here than she would ever want.
When the commotion died down, Bai stood alone on the path th
at ran through the village. She was about to return to her own small room when she felt his presence outside his house. Every time she visited, she felt his power reach deeper. Being near him was like looking down a bottomless well.
“Trouble?” Lei asked.
Bai turned. Lei was the closest she had to a master. He had started her down this path, had shown her just how much she was capable of. “More than usual.”
He gestured toward his house. “Come on in. Daiyu is preparing supper.”
Bai never turned down Daiyu’s meals. Lei’s wife cooked better than anyone Bai had ever met, and even her simple meals tasted like feasts. After days and days of basic food on the road, the offer made her mouth water.
Inside, Bai sipped from a cup of wine while she related recent events. Lei listened attentively, leaning forward and only asking a few questions.
When she finished, a long silence settled over the table. Lei stared off in the distance. Something more was at play here.
“What’s wrong?” Bai asked.
“Too many coincidences,” Lei answered. He told his own story of visiting Kulat. His revelations rocked her not once, but twice. First to learn she wasn’t alone, then to hear of the ambush they had suffered.
“If you hadn’t been there…”
Lei nodded. “It bothers me, too. The more I think about the ambush, the more I think my presence was the only piece they didn’t anticipate. Yang could have cast a shield, or Wu, perhaps, but neither of them are gifted with much strength. I think the barrels of black powder would have overwhelmed them. We might have lost all of them.”
“Who could have been behind it?”
“That part bothers me, too. They had to possess information from inside the monastery. It’s been well over a week, and I think I’ve suspected everyone at some point. Perhaps the whole mission was a setup by the questioner. Maybe one of Yang’s students betrayed him. But I can never get all the facts to fit together, and there’s no solid evidence implicating anyone.”
