Snow in the Year of the Dragon

by H. Leighton Dickson

  For the sake of the Empire and for the love of our Empress, kill the child within her.

  He could feel her quick mind, working with her council and making preparations for war. If he concentrated hard enough, he could also feel the heartbeat of the baby in her womb. It would take nothing at all to rid her of it. A simple thought to contract the muscles or constrict the blood. He could will a rise in heat that would cause her to abort, or imagine the stab of a knife to cause unnatural bleeding. His thoughts had teeth now. They could kill as easily as a blade.

  And in many ways, it would be easier for them all. Certainly for her. His sleight had given her time but nothing more, for Ho had been right. People could be teased with thoughts of miracles and magic, but once a mongrel child was born, there would be little room for doubt. Their widowed Empress had bedded a lion and in this Kingdom, there could be no worse crime than that.

  No. He would not do it. It was time for the Way of Things to change.

  Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold.

  Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold.

  She had given him a bangle, an odd circular device made of rusted metal and glass. He had seen one once worn by Kerris the Grey, and remembered vividly the visions it brought up. This was the same. It seared his gloveless palms as memories of Ancestors shot through his hands to his throat. Find the thread. Follow it.

  Winter Water.

  In the boat with Kerris and Fallon, crossing a great expanse of water under a large expanse of sky. Fences of dried trees and dead birds. An army of bones wielding swords of power. The Breath of the Maiden on the Field of One Hundred Stones.

  Winter Water.

  North.

  Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Hold.

  Frozen lake. Deeper. Darker. Colder.

  Rats?

  Spreading like the branches of a tree

  Bones and dragons and maiden

  Ancestors underground

  Rats and bears?

  Bears?

  Winter Water Mountains and Snow

  REDmark Dragons filled with bones and maidens

  Marathon Shenandoah Yellowstone Banff Cimarron Rocky Mountain

  Tsaparang

  A New World

  Kalgoorlie

  Dreamtime second time

  Scorpions

  Solomon

  And he is gone

  ***

  Somewhere in the mountain, the low blast of a djenghorn sounded the alarm.

  Kirin opened his eyes.

  He closed them, then opened them again.

  The world was black.

  Slowly, he pushed to his knees but dust was thick and a spasm of coughing struck him like a fist. It was all he could do to stay on his knees and not fold back to the muddy floor. He remained still for another long moment, simply focusing on the breath as it entered and left his body. He heard a cough beside him.

  Long-Swift.

  “Khanmaker alive?” asked the Khargan.

  Kirin grunted.

  “I believe so. Unless we are both in NirVannah.”

  “No NirVannah for dogs,” said Long-Swift. “Chanyu go to Great Grass Plains of the Moon. After death, cats want Nothing. After death, dogs want More.”

  His eyes adjusted to the darkness and all around the Kr̥ṣi, torches still flickered dimly through the haze. Dust floated, rising and settling across the mounded floor. He frowned. The ground had been smooth moments ago, but then again, the earth had just burst upwards in a perfect circle around them, toppling the Snow and burying them along their deadly hail of arrows.

  The djenghorn sounded again, rattling his very bones. They needed to move.

  He glanced down to see another mound beside him.

  “Kerris.”

  Curled into a tight ball, his brother was shaking like bamboo in the wind.

  “Kerris?”

  “The earth says she’s an ally,” his brother panted. “But by the Kingdom, I think she won’t rest until I’m dead.”

  Kirin rose to his feet, surveyed the rubble before him. In the dim torchlight, he could see arms and legs protruding at awkward angles, swords and arrows like the back of a wild boar. The Kr̥ṣi’s earth and stones had buried most of the Snow, taking Tomi Moto along with it. The few survivors were pushing out of the rubble, rising to their feet. In the distance, the Xióngmāo gardeners did nothing but watch. Whether they were shocked or merely curious, he couldn’t tell, but he was grateful they didn’t have arrows.

  The djenghorn sounded again. An alarm. A warning. A call. The garden flickered with movement.

  Sword in hand, a Snow guard rushed them, racing up the mound of earth and leaping high into the air above their heads. Kirin swung the Fangs just in time to block as the blade sliced downward and the clang of steel echoed through the Kr̥ṣi. He pivoted, sliding the Jade around in a swift arc, felt the thud as it connected with leather. The man landed lightly on his feet then dropped to one knee, blood spilling from a slice in his armour.

  A second soldier now and a third, rushing the men in the center of the earth and this time, ala’Asalan sang as steel met steel. Where Kirin was skilled, the Khargan was savage, and the hooked sword slashed deeply into the thigh of one attacker. With a sharp twist, ala’Asalan came back, bringing half of the leg with it. The Lion Killer swung anew and the Chi’Chen fell backward, body hitting the ground in two pieces. The third Snow snatched a spear from the stones but Kirin whirled, the Blood Fang sending his head bouncing across the earth. An arrow thudded into the thick leather of his doh, and Kirin staggered, unbalanced. At his side, the Khargan slid two arrows from his boot and sent them whipping across the Kr̥ṣi. A pair of Snow guards pitched backwards, and quiet fell in the Gardens of the New World.

  Kirin turned, looked down at the man on one knee.

  “You are not dead,” he said in Chi’Chen. “Stand.”

  The man did, clutching his side with pale hands.

  “Tell the Suns,” Kirin began. “Tell them that they will not send the Snow to rain arrows upon the Nine Thousand Dragons. Tell them that they will not harm the women that they have so heinously threatened, and tell them that they will not execute the ambassadors from the United Empires. Tell them that they will not do any of that, or this will be a mere taste of the bloody carnage Kaidan and the Lightning will bring down on their heads. Is that understood?”

  The soldier nodded.

  “Tell them,” he growled. “Tell them now.”

  The man turned and scrambled over the earth, disappearing back down the corridor toward the chamber of the Rising Suns.

  “They won’t listen,” he said. “But it may buy us some time.”

  “By the Kingdom,” groaned Kerris as he attempted to sit up. “When did you become such a good liar?”

  Kirin grunted.

  “It appears the older I become, the more grey I discover.”

  Kerris laughed but it quickly turned into coughing. Together, dog and lion helped him to his feet.

  “Bear thing,” said the Khargan and Kirin glanced up. A Xióngmāo stood in the place where the soldier had been. It pointed.

  “Cryptic buggers,” grumbled Kerris. “I suppose we’re meant to follow?”

  It was a rhetorical question, and the three men climbed over the rock and the earth as the djenghorn sounded once again.

  ***

  Somehow, somewhen, an alarm had been sounded.

  The moan of the djenghorn echoed from deep within the mountain, but it was almost drowned out by the squeal of metal across stone. The grey slab walls were moving, pulling away from each other to reveal a slice of growing darkness between. The floor rumbled, dust rained down from the ceiling, and the Xióngmāo stepped back, chirping like baby birds.

  After several long moments, the thunder died away, and the odd group merely stood, waiting for the dust to settle. Like the others, this great doorway had stopped in its tracks, not quite open, not quite closed, and a faint green light glowed within.

  In her arms, th
e young bear looked at her. Fallon wrinkled her nose and stepped forward to peer inside.

  “Hello?”

  Her voice echoed, bounced off the sound of metal.

  “Hello?” she called again.

  “Cellsave mode,” said the voice. “Initiate Desired Level, Seiya Fehr.”

  Fallon turned to the Alchemist. She frowned.

  “Seiya Fehr?”

  Above the low rhythmic bleat of the djenghorn, there was the rolling thunder of an army of feet.

  “Hm, Seiya Fehr…”

  “Quickly, sister,” said Sherah. “The Snow are coming.”

  “Oh, I remember now! It was from the Collected Works of the Empress Faisala the Wise and the Rise of the Upper Kingdom.” She bugged her eyes. “It’s a really, really big book. A tome of a book. The size of a calf, all bound in leather and gold and tassels…”

  “Scholar, quickly…”

  The tigress turned back toward the door, took a deep breath.

  “I know what this is,” she said. “I know where we are.”

  And she slipped cautiously through. With Kylan on one hip, the Alchemist followed.

  Behind them, the corridor echoed like swiftly moving thunder as a troop of Snow came into view. They were an avalanche – relentless and unstoppable and everywhere at once.

  “Close it, sister!” cried the Alchemist.

  Bravely, the Xióngmāo formed a solid wall between the door and the Snow. Swords flashed in the darkness as the Snow advanced on them.

  “I can’t!” shouted Fallon. “But you can!”

  Arrows pelted through the narrow doorway, pinging off metal, piercing ancient plex.

  “Just say it!” said the tigress and she threw herself against a wall. “It thinks you’re Seiya Fehr! Tell it to close the door now!”

  Leaping over the wall of bears, a guard rushed the entry, sword drawn.

  “Do it!”

  “Close the door now!”

  With a clang, the door slammed home.

  ***

  The Snow flanking him were slowing, reining their little horses to a jog.

  He sat back on the wild pony. It slowed as well but his mind, like his heart, was racing.

  The Celestial Mountain Gate towered above them now and he watched the Snow climb the ladders and scale the narrow scaffolds that lead to the top of the gate. There were at least a hundred, for their horses waited at the Celestial base. The Shogun-General had been right, and the monkey man had lied. The Nine Thousand Dragons were like fish in a pond. As lost as he was himself.

  He smelled steel unsheathed. He heard bows strung. He was a dog. His senses were sharper than those of monkeys. But he was no soldier. He couldn’t reach for the Maiden before they killed him. There was nothing he could do. They would kill him and then they would kill the Dragons. He had failed the Khargan. He had failed everyone.

  Suddenly, the mountain pony bucked and he lurched forwards as two arrows whipped through the air where his head had been. On either side of the pony, two Snow toppled from their horses, struck. Both dog and Snow hit the ground at the same time. He rolled and the Maiden was in his hands.

  Quiz squealed and lunged at one of the horses, teeth leaving a ribbon of red along the dun neck. He lashed out with his tough little hoofs, catching the second horse beneath the eye and sending it skittering back in the direction it had come.

  The remaining Snow leapt off their horses, swords in hand. Rani swung the Maiden like a club, taking one man out at the knees. He spun and swung again, and the Maiden cracked a monkey jaw, sending him flying backwards onto the stone. The dun horse lunged at him but the pony threw its fierce little body in between and blood sprayed across the stone. Four Snow down. He had done it. He, and the angry little pony who had saved his life.

  Suddenly, an arrow hit the dirt at his feet and Rani looked up. The ridge was lined with archers, bows drawn, arrows nocked. Before the volley could be loosed, the Maiden leapt to his shoulder and sang.

  The blast laced the ridge of the mountain, turning everything blue as it swept across the edge. Blue, then white, then gone, all in one swift, lethal slice.

  He staggered at the impact as three arrows struck from behind. Back, ribs, hip. Heat flowed like water and he swung the Maiden to his left, removing the far ridge and all its archers in a second blast.

  Breath caught in his throat, and pain laced across his chest. Now, the heat turned to fire and blood.

  His arms trembled and the Maiden grew heavy as he turned to face the Celestial Mountain Gate. He could see the men atop the scaffolds, scrambling for their own bows at the sight of his weapon. He could kill these Snow as they climbed the Gate. He could then raise the Maiden and with a single sweep, destroy those that had intended to slaughter an army even greater than theirs. With a fourth sweep, all their angry horses would be nothing but blue ash floating on the wind.

  He smelled death. He smelled blood. But beyond that, he smelled horses and cats and dogs and the Army of Nine Thousand Dragons pressing in on the other side.

  It take thousand men to open that gate, the Khargan had said.

  His eyes darted to the massive stone gate, the wheels and pulleys, the ladders and steps.

  Or one Maiden.

  He leveled it at the center.

  Arrows whistled toward him. He did not see. He did not feel. He only knew. He only hoped.

  He hoped the Khargan would live to see the Chanyu strong and respected in the eyes of all the peoples of the world.

  He hoped Setse lived to see the day her Oracles were as valued as a witch in black silk.

  And most of all, he hoped that the witch would tell little Kylan of the dog who carried him, who protected him and who loved him like a brother.

  He blinked the stinging from his eyes and released the Maiden.

  ***

  Free them

  ***

  “Oh, there you are.”

  Yahn Nevye opened his eyes on the Oracle of Khumul. Chiing bent over him with a grimace, teeth protruding from the pushed-in mouth. By the remains of the fire, Silence sat, head cocked almost upside down as he watched.

  “That girl is crazy,” said the Oracle. “She thinks she can fight the villagers alone.”

  Nevye sat up quickly, too quickly, and the temple spun around like a child’s toy.

  “Oh, he hit you hard, yes,” said Chiing. “The Uürekh are a twitchy folk.”

  “Where is Setse?”

  “I said, down trying to talk to the villagers.” The Oracle spat on the ground. “Damn Tuuv Sarangaral. Something about his wife and baby.”

  Nevye released a deep breath and scrambled to his feet.

  ***

  “Fallon!” cried Kerris, catching a brief glimpse of orange before the great, metal door slammed shut, crushing the body of a charging Snow in its path. Red sprayed out across the floor.

  Slowly, deliberately, a wall of Snow turned to face them, tiny eyes shining in the dim green light.

  “Stand down, Snow of Shin Sekai,” said Kirin. “We simply wish to take our people and leave your city. Emperor Watanabe’s army is approaching from the east. The Nine Thousand Dragons are approaching from the west. You have far larger battles to fight.”

  Twelve of them, he realized; twelve hardened soldiers ready to take on three intruders. They said nothing, merely stared, their severe faces pulled taut in perpetual frowns. Behind then, stood a row of Xióngmāo, and he wondered where they would fall if it came to a fight. They were the true guardians of the New World. Their loyalties would run deep.

  “We are the Red Snow,” snarled a monkey “We live and die to serve the Rising Suns.”

  As one, they slid swords from the sheaths across their backs. The swords were short and pitted, forged from iron rather than steel. Still, the blades were sharp. They would take a leg off at the joint, would split a skull if given the chance.

  Behind them, the Xióngmāo shuffled, began to roll their wide sleeves. Claws as tough as iron glinted in the shadow
s.

  It might have seemed helpless, with two dozen facing three, had not two of the three been lions. Had not the third been Khargan of the North.

  Kirin slid the Fangs from their homes.

  ***

  With a clang, the panel slammed home and the Chi’Chen sword clattered to the stone floor. The arm, however, did not and the fingers twitched for several moments before they stiffened like amber.

  “Welcome, Seiya Fehr. Initiate Power Level. Waiting.”

  Fallon lowered the young bear to the floor and sagged against a wall.

  “Oh, mother. I have a feeling the meeting with the Rising Suns didn’t go so well…”

  “We are not safe here,” said the Alchemist. “The Snow will find a way to open this door.”

  “Actually, I don’t think so.” She looked down at the young bear. He didn’t seem afraid, but then again, it was hard to know with bears. “The Xióngmāo seem to be the real engineers in this terrible, marvelous place. If they couldn’t open it, then I doubt the Snow can.”

  “Welcome, Seiya Fehr. Initiate Power Level. Waiting.”

  “What does that mean?” asked Sherah. “I do not understand.”

  “According to the Collected Works of the Empress Faisala the Wise and the Rise of the Upper Kingdom – oh, that was a big book. Did I mention that was a big book?”

  “Sister…”

  “Right.” The Scholar pushed off the wall and released a puff of breath. “So, according to the legend, Seiya Fehr was the last caretaker of the Nine Peaks Mountain.”

  The Alchemist blinked slowly.

  “You’ve heard of the Nine Peaks Mountain, right?”

  “I know nothing of this Nine Peaks Mountain,” said Sherah.

  “Really? Wow. My mother told me so many stories when I was a kitten, but they were nothing compared to the stories in the books.”

  “Waiting.”

  “My mother sent me away before my seventh summer.”

  “Oh. No stories, then. That’s sad.”

  She took the young bear’s hand and began to stroll around the strange room, taking in the dim, green-glowing walls, the black screens, the frosted cases, with curiosity.