Their Spirit Unbroken (Relentless Book 3)

by Ryan Kirk

  Finally, he rested for a while.

  At rest, his grief finally caught up to him. He knew she was gone, had known this moment was coming for some time. But his mind refused to believe. Every time a breeze came up and caused the house to creak, he looked around, expecting to see her there, smiling at him as though nothing was wrong.

  Sorrow seized him then, crushing him, making it difficult for him to breathe. He had lost too many of the people he loved. His parents were only the faintest of memories, dead now for more years than he cared to count. Jian, his estranged brother, also gone. And now Daiyu, the woman his world had centered around for most of his adult life.

  On the plains outside of Jihan, Lei had never felt more alone.

  As the sun dipped toward the horizon, Lei started the fire that would consume his beloved. The kindling caught without problem, the wood mostly dry from the afternoon out in the sun. Lei patiently tended the fire, feeding it larger and larger pieces until the logs that formed the pyre had caught.

  After that, it was simply a matter of waiting.

  He thought of the monastery up above Two Bridges, the thick walls he had called home growing up. That was where he had last seen a pyre, the flames consuming his brother, some fragment of his brother’s soul coming to rest with his own.

  Part of him wondered and dared to hope that something similar would happen with Daiyu. She had only been gone a day, but already he wanted to hear her voice, to hear her advise him on what to do next. The pyre invited him. They could travel beyond the veil together.

  Such thoughts would have disappointed her.

  If she had been standing right next to him, he had no doubt what she would say. She’d made her final wishes clear enough. “Return to Jihan. Finish the fight.”

  A certain part of him wanted to. Diving into the conflict would distract him, keep him from thinking about these moments and the losses he’d suffered.

  But what was the point? As he watched the fire, it all seemed so meaningless. What was the point of people fighting and dying for control of the empire? Lei had spent his life with Daiyu, and he didn’t regret those years one bit. Life was far too precious to waste on what didn’t matter.

  The flames rose higher and began to consume Daiyu’s body. Lei forced himself to watch, wishing that he had at least one companion here to share his grief.

  He took a deep, shuddering breath and was suddenly calm, as if someone had come behind him and given him a firm embrace. He closed his eyes, sinking into the sensation. His breath came easily now, his lungs filling deeply with every inhalation. He’d felt this before, at Jian’s pyre.

  Lei wasn’t alone.

  He carried the memories and the souls of those he’d lost. He spread out his arms and welcomed them.

  A strange mix of emotions ran through him. He felt deep sorrow, not so much at Daiyu’s passing, but at the awareness that he had survived and would have to go on without her. But she gifted him a deep determination, the desire to see his life through.

  He would go on through the days. Jian and Daiyu wanted no less from him. If he carried a part of them with him, he wanted them to be proud of their vessel.

  By the time the flames burned down, leaving nothing but ashes and memories, Lei was decided. He looked up at the stars above, amazed by the mysteries of the universe.

  Then, Lei heard them. A cough in the darkness, well behind him.

  Anger swept over him, aggression he hadn’t felt since he was a young man kicked out of the monasteries and bitter at life. How dare they interrupt Daiyu’s final rites? He turned around, opening himself up to the power that surrounded him.

  The power came easier than it ever had, filling every pore of his body. His senses sharpened and his vision shifted. Though it was dark, he saw as though the sun shone overhead. There were five men creeping toward his position, hiding in the tall grasses of the endless prairie.

  The men deserved no mercy.

  Lei’s hands moved through the signs he’d learned as a young man, signs that still came naturally to him after all these years. Each hand was a mirror of the other, two one-handed signs preparing for an attack.

  He shifted as he saw a man bring a bow up. In the dark, Lei saw better than they did and the arrow missed wide.

  Lei finished his signs. In each hand he held a Dragon’s Fang, the sixth one-handed sign, a focused attack that was virtually unstoppable. Most monks couldn’t even form one.

  It was the same attack that had killed his brother.

  Lei aimed the first attack at the archer, the blast opening a hole in his chest.

  A second man stood up, becoming the victim of the other attack.

  His attacks spent, Lei cast a shield over himself. He saw no point in worrying about being attacked. Then he drew his sword, letting just a trickle of power flow into it. Two more cuts ended two more lives.

  Whoever had sent these men was a fool. They had no chance against him.

  When the final man tried to run, Lei swiped an energy attack across his legs, slicing through muscle and bone as though they were butter. The man collapsed to the ground, crying out in pain as he attempted to crawl away, pulling himself with his hands.

  Lei stopped him. “Did Delun send you?”

  The man’s face was ashen from blood loss. He shook his head. “Lord Xun.”

  Lei frowned, not understanding. But the man wouldn’t either. He was just a soldier, bleeding out in these empty wastelands. Lei pushed a bit more energy into the sword and sliced again, taking the man’s head off and ending his pain.

  He looked back at the pyre. He still held onto the power, his vision altered. The veil between his reality and the power seemed thinner than ever, a gossamer weave separating him from an eternal mystery.

  Lei swore he saw Daiyu then.

  Not real, but not a ghost, either. He stepped toward her and felt a pressure push against him. He heard nothing, but the message was clear.

  Lei collapsed down to his knees. He wanted to go with her.

  But it seemed his road led only to Jihan.

  37

  Bai was half-asleep when Lei arrived at Jihan’s monastery. As honed as her own senses were, her drowsiness almost caused her to miss his entrance completely. He stirred up quite a panic, though, and gongs rang throughout the monastery, ensuring Bai wouldn’t fall asleep anytime soon.

  “Someone is coming!” a young monk shouted, eyes wide with alarm. “Someone strong.”

  Monks flocked to the walls to defend their home. Bai stumbled after them, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Once she stood on the walls of the monastery, though, she knew who their guest was. She made a calming gesture with her hands. “There’s nothing to fear. It’s just Lei.”

  A few moments later Lei came into view from the wall, many blocks away. He walked with his head held high, but Bai could almost see the sorrow radiating from him. His steps were slow, as though he pulled a great weight. Only one event could burden him so.

  Bai’s heart broke for Lei. She had never known him without Daiyu. The two of them had always been as one in her mind. Now they had been cut in half.

  Bai rushed down the stairs and ran toward him, meeting Lei just outside the gates. She had never embraced him before, but she did so now.

  He wrapped his strong arms around her. She could feel his deep pool of energy trickling into her, a subconscious ability she had no control over. This close, she could feel how near the edge of despair he stood. He was connected to the power still. It was unlike him, but it was also how the monks had sensed him so far away.

  Bai rooted herself like a tree, shifting her feet and lowering her weight. She held on tightly to him, keeping him steady as he grieved.

  When his tears slowed, they separated. Bai looked up at Lei, not sure what to say. “I’m sorry.”

  The words seemed small, a tiny drop of water in an empty well.

  Lei nodded, tears forming again near the edges of his eyes. “She passed away in her sleep. Peacefully.”

>   Lei wavered, his balance slightly off. Bai almost reached out to him to steady him again, but her instincts told her Lei didn’t want her help. He wanted to plow forward, to keep pushing ahead so he didn’t have to look back.

  “Come in,” she said. “You’re just in time for the excitement.”

  Lei gave a small nod, took a few steps forward, then stopped. He looked up at the walls, an unreadable expression on his face.

  Bai gave him a moment, but he still didn’t follow her. Had grief completely broken him? As gently as she could, she asked, “What is it?”

  He gestured toward the walls. “I was thinking about how the past seems to hold us all in its grip.” He paused for a moment as his gaze took in the walls and the pile of rubble that was all that was left of a section of the defenses. “The last time I was here, there was also a hole in the wall, caused by the Dragon’s Fang. When I was last inside these walls, the monks wanted me to remain forever, to study me for the rest of my days. Daiyu and I ran from a broken monastery; now I return to one alone.”

  Bai couldn’t think of a single response. She stepped closer to him, lending him support with her presence.

  Lei took a deep breath, then stepped through the wall. Bai performed introductions.

  She enjoyed watching the reactions to his arrival. Some knew of him, but many did not. Many had no idea such a power existed in the empire. They left with their mouths hanging open.

  Once introductions were complete, Bai took Lei aside so they could each tell their stories. Bai couldn’t believe what had happened to Lei. She hadn’t even known he and Daiyu had been abducted.

  Bai recognized the desire in his eyes, though. He wanted to move forward. She told him about the warehouse, about how the monks had gathered there and taken the princess. When she finished, Lei leaned back and scratched his head. “Where is this warehouse?”

  Bai described the area. Lei paled.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I believe that is the same place where I once fought Fang. I destroyed the warehouse thirty years ago, but it doesn’t surprise me that they have rebuilt it. Chao is very much a student of history, I think.”

  Lei continued to look thoughtful, but he didn’t provide a clue to his thoughts until Bai pressed him on it.

  “This doesn’t add up. None of it. The emperor tells me he wants his daughter found, but the questioners, who report to the emperor, want you dead. Chao and his wraiths abduct the princess, but no effort has been made by the emperor to save her. There’s more going on here than we know, Bai.”

  Bai agreed. The same thought had been troubling her. Her only solution had been to keep thinking of ways to free the princess.

  Lei glanced over at her. “You’re too tired. Get some sleep, and then we will leave.”

  “Where are we going?”

  Lei smiled, but it seemed empty. “To have a talk with the wraiths, of course.”

  Bai slept well through the morning and into the afternoon. Lei’s presence calmed her, made her feel like it was safe to surrender to sleep.

  When she woke, Lei was still on the same bench he’d sat on when they had spoken. He didn’t look like he’d moved since she left. She sat down next to him. “How do you plan on doing this?”

  Lei looked around the monastery. “Bring Rong. Her gifts may come in useful if our conversation doesn’t go well. Otherwise, we’ll leave the rest.”

  Bai wouldn’t have minded more protection, but fewer people were easier to manage. She found Rong, then told the abbot where they would be. He looked apprehensive, but even he had started to defer to her.

  The trip passed in silence until they neared the warehouse. Lei turned to them. “I will cast a shield and speak to them, but be prepared for anything. If you see an opening in their defenses, take it. I don’t know all that is happening, but I believe the princess is safer with us.”

  The warehouse came into view a minute later. Bai and Rong stepped closer to Lei. Bai could sense the wraiths within. They filled the warehouse with their power. Several stood on nearby roofs, keeping watch over the approaches. No doubt, word of their arrival had already reached Chao’s ears.

  Lei kept a steady pace, and Bai wondered what it must be like to be so strong that he didn’t need to fear so many wraiths gathered together. If she’d been gifted with such a strength, she would have charged in days ago.

  No one attacked them as they approached, but Bai could sense the activity surrounding them. Wraiths were leaving the warehouse through side doors, taking to the buildings surrounding it. Less than a dozen wraiths remained inside. Lei stopped two dozen feet away from the main door of the warehouse.

  Bai felt the gazes of the wraiths upon her. Where they stood, the three of them were surrounded. If there was going to be a battle, it was clear they intended to fight it outside the walls of their new home.

  The main doors opened. Of the three men who stepped out, Bai only recognized Delun. The other two gazed straight ahead, but Delun looked at his feet. Bai noticed he carried a staff and a bag of stones at his hip.

  He had come prepared to fight, then.

  The man who stood in front of Delun spoke first. Bai guessed he was Chao.

  “So, you are Lei,” he said.

  “I am,” Lei replied.

  “Did you come to join us?”

  “We came for the princess, and to put an end to this madness.”

  Chao opened his arms wide. “What madness? Monks, taking their rightful place as rulers of the empire?”

  Shouts from the rooftops answered the boast. Chao knew his audience well.

  Lei shook his head. “You are no rulers. You are crammed into a warehouse near the edge of Jihan while the emperor rests in an enormous palace.”

  The words cut deep. Chao gritted his teeth. “You are as shortsighted as the rest of them. Change takes time, but we are well on our way. You don’t see what is possible.”

  Lei opened his arms. “When the gifted fight, no one wins. Please, Chao, surrender the princess. We can find a better solution.”

  Chao swept Lei’s idea away with a wave of his hand. “I propose a more interesting test. The training of the monasteries against this disease that has spread since the Battle of Jihan. Delun against Bai. If Bai wins, I’ll let you leave here alive. If Delun wins, you surrender yourselves.”

  Bai had little doubt what surrender entailed.

  “No thanks,” Lei answered.

  Chao’s grin dripped with malicious intent. “It wasn’t an offer.” He gestured toward the surrounding rooftops. Nearly a hundred attacks were signed. The air crackled with energy.

  Bai met Lei’s gaze. She didn’t mind the offer.

  Bai knew Lei believed he could hold off the attacks. The power he touched was immense. But the damage to the city would be as well. She knew he did not want to destroy the city again. That would not be his legacy.

  He capitulated, nodding toward Bai. She stepped forward, and Bai prepared herself for the battle that came next.

  38

  Delun’s heart sank like a stone thrown into a river. Chao, in one simple move, had pushed Delun straight into a corner. A corner from which there was no escape.

  Delun felt the energy thrumming around the intersection. Dozens of monks stood at attention, ready to fight. Lei, Bai, and the other woman stood in the middle of a killing ground.

  The amount of power gathered within these few square blocks was absurd. They could level most of the city and still have power left over.

  Chao uttered his pronouncement.

  Delun wavered.

  He thought of the princess and her warning, the way she had wrenched his eyes open to see a truth he would rather not acknowledge.

  But what could he do?

  If he joined with Lei and Bai, perhaps they would have enough strength to mount a rescue of the princess. There was no telling. But that way lay chaos. Did he believe it was for the best?

  In the end, Bai forced his hand. She leaped forward, hatred i
n her eyes. Before he could react, she had knocked the staff from his unsuspecting grip. His greatest advantage over her vanished.

  Delun weaved backward, sliding around her punches, hoping none of them struck. Most days, Bai was more controlled than this. She snarled as she swung at him. When her fist didn’t connect, she slipped off balance and he kicked her away.

  She believed he had betrayed her, that he still intended to kill her.

  Strangely, it was that belief that finalized his decision. He wouldn’t disappoint her.

  But he didn’t know how to convince her before she killed him.

  Delun dodged, then dodged again. Bai’s strikes weren’t as focused as usual, as though her heart couldn’t quite convince her body of what it believed. That, at least, was something.

  Bai flew past him and he landed a fist to her torso. He felt the energy flowing through her, preventing him from truly hurting her.

  He hadn’t hit as strongly as he might.

  When she turned to look at him, he saw that she knew it, too. Her eyes narrowed, doubt flickering within.

  How could he convince her, without words, with the whole world watching, that he was on her side?

  He laughed when he knew.

  Both of his hands danced an intricate pattern, forming a powerful attack. Bai’s eyes widened with surprise, a gesture soon masked.

  Delun waited for one of the monks to yell, to understand Delun’s deception.

  But the intersection was silent.

  Expectant.

  None of the monks understood Bai’s powers. They didn’t know how foolish a mistake Delun was making.

  She was one of their greatest threats, and they didn’t take the time to understand her.

  Delun detested their willful ignorance, their absolute belief in their superiority.

  Bai shifted, acting as though preparing to attack. She put herself directly between Delun and a group of the rebel monks.

  She understood.

  Delun held onto his attack for another moment, doubt warring against action. His only chance was here.

  He took it.