The Buried World (The Grave Kingdom)

by Jeff Wheeler

  Relief made Bingmei’s heart soar. She looked around for who had done it, but there was too much mayhem to tell. While she had been facing off with the more-skilled fighter, the Qiangdao had continued to make their way through the pass. Her ensign was badly outnumbered, but she joined the others, and they continued to fight, incapacitating the Qiangdao one by one.

  After several long moments of fighting, the tide of the battle shifted, and the Qiangdao began to retreat down the bluff. Some of them were crawling to escape. She let them go.

  After it was clear that her side had won, she let herself return to Mieshi. Her eyes were open, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. Bingmei could smell the sour scent of fear as she knelt beside her, feeling for the throb of a heartbeat at her throat. Her heart was racing.

  “Can you speak?” Bingmei asked softly.

  Mieshi stared at her, immobile but trembling. The one who’d attacked her lay nearby, eyes closed, breathing softly. She wanted to shake him awake and force him to cure Mieshi.

  Bao Damanhur trudged up, breathing fast. He’d already sheathed his sword, and as he knelt, he stroked the side of Mieshi’s face with the back of his hand.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “She was struck by a dianxue attack,” Bingmei said, trying to keep her voice calm.

  Damanhur’s face wrinkled with fury and despair. The sharp smells came off him in waves. “Will she live?”

  Bingmei shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s the one who did it.” She pointed to the enemy. “We need to get him to talk.”

  Huqu approached them. “Master,” he said, bowing in respect to Bingmei. “They’re fleeing. Should we go after them?”

  “No,” Bingmei said, shaking her head. “There are probably more down below, and if we go after them, we’ll lose the advantage of the high ground. Guard the way up. Don’t let anyone get past.”

  Jiaohua sauntered up next. He nudged the comatose man with his boot. He gave Bingmei a snide look. “You’re welcome.”

  “You could have poisoned him before he hurt Mieshi,” she said.

  “I couldn’t risk hitting you,” he answered. He sniffed, looking down at her. “Dianxue. I saw it. I’ll tie him up.”

  Jiaohua knelt by the body and turned it over so the man was resting on his stomach. Producing some leather straps, he made quick work of binding his wrists, then turned the body back over and sat it up. He withdrew a little wooden vial, unstoppered it, and held it up to the man’s nose. The smell of acid made Bingmei gag.

  The man shuddered and then twisted, trying to get away from the smell. His eyes fluttered open.

  Jiaohua smiled at him with his rotten teeth and then punched him in the face. The man’s head jerked back, and he winced but did not groan.

  “The only reason you’re still alive is because we have some questions to ask you,” Jiaohua said with a wicked grin. “Do you understand us?”

  “He understands,” Bingmei said. She saw Marenqo walk up, his arms folded. She could smell his worry as he stood by her.

  “What do you want from me?” the man said warily.

  “Is the girl going to die? You used dianxue on her.”

  “She won’t die if I stop the vibration,” he said.

  Bingmei stared at him fiercely, waiting to see if the smell of a lie came from him. It did not. He was telling the truth.

  “Then stop it,” Bingmei said angrily. Damanhur’s eyes blazed with worry.

  The man stared at her. “The phoenix-chosen.”

  “I said stop it,” Bingmei said again.

  “Why?” the man said. “You’re going to kill me anyway. Why not take one of you with me?”

  Mieshi was still alert, even though she couldn’t speak, and Bingmei could smell her surge of panic. It made Bingmei furious.

  “Do you want to live?” Bingmei asked.

  “Do you think I’d trust you? Any of you?” the man said with contempt. “If I could, I would kill you all with dianxue. Except for you. The phoenix-chosen. My master, Echion, wishes me to bring you back to Fusang.” His eyes flared with determination. “So kill me now. It doesn’t matter. I, Liekou, will be a ruler in the Grave Kingdom.”

  “How many Qiangdao are out there?” Jiaohua asked.

  “Enough,” said the man with a sudden grin. “Enough to kill each of you five times over. We were expecting to be attacked. And we know about the other entrance to the caves. Several of our people are waiting on that side too.”

  Bingmei looked up at Marenqo. That was where she’d sent the younger ones and servants.

  He nodded vigorously. “I’ll stop them.” He raced away.

  The fallen man laughed. “Stop them? Don’t you see? You’re like rats in a cage. You’re all going to die in here. We’ll squeeze and squeeze until you run out of breath.” His eyes glittered in the dim light. “And then you’ll stop twitching too.”

  Bingmei looked at Mieshi, who had fallen perfectly still, her eyes still open. She’d stopped breathing.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Liekou

  Damanhur’s face contorted with anguish and fury. He unsheathed his blade, and Bingmei feared he would sever the man’s head from his shoulders in one blow. She held up her hand to stave him off, glaring a warning for him to back down.

  “You killed her?” Damanhur said breathlessly, his lips trembling.

  “She will die very quickly unless I reverse it,” said the man, meeting Damanhur’s furious gaze without fear. “It’s your choice, One Arm. I don’t care.”

  “If we let you go free, will you reverse it?” Bingmei asked.

  He turned his gaze to her. “You would trust my word?”

  “I will know if you are lying to me,” Bingmei answered. “If we set you free, will you save her?”

  Jiaohua gave the man a nasty look, one that promised revenge. He inserted another needle into his blowgun. Bingmei’s stomach coiled with dread as she watched Mieshi’s still chest.

  “I swear it,” said Liekou. She smelled no trace of deception in him. “I suppose it will remain to be seen whether you can be trusted. Unbind me.”

  “Do it,” Bingmei told Jiaohua.

  His eyes darted at Liekou. “Her life is not worth his,” he grumbled.

  “It is to me,” Damanhur said with venom.

  Jiaohua stuffed his blowgun in his belt, within easy reach, then circled behind Liekou. Damanhur’s sword was out, held low, the tip still pointed at their adversary. Bingmei was also prepared to fight, but she smelled no deception, no coiled violence.

  When his bonds were loosened, Liekou rubbed his wrists, casting his gaze at each of them in turn, anticipating trickery. He crouched down by Mieshi, using one finger to trace a sigil from her cheek down to her neck. His body blocked what he had drawn, but Bingmei saw enough to know it was a glyph. Just like the one she had drawn to revive Echion. Just like the ones she’d seen in her vision of Jidi Majia. So, Echion was teaching glyphs to his followers.

  A new danger was upon them.

  Mieshi shuddered and gasped, bringing in a wheezing breath. She convulsed, and Liekou rose and backed away from her. Damanhur, his eyes bright with relief, set his blade down and knelt beside her as she looked around in confusion. Bingmei could smell the pain in her breath and knew that she was suffering from the same tingling loss of blood in her extremities Bingmei experienced after one of her living dreams.

  Smirking, Liekou kicked out a foot, landing it just so on the hilt of Damanhur’s blade. The weapon vaulted into the air, and he caught it by the hilt.

  Bingmei swung her staff at him, but he blocked it deftly and retreated toward the edge of the cliff. Jiaohua whipped out the blowgun and raised it to his lips. With a puff of air, he sent a poisoned dart at their enemy’s chest, but Liekou swiveled his shoulders and used the blade to knock it away.

  “We will meet again, phoenix-chosen,” he said to Bingmei as she tried to knock the blade away from him.

  Damanhur was on his feet again, rushing fo
rward to reclaim his stolen weapon. He snarled with rage, and Liekou gave him a mocking smile.

  “Catch me, One Arm,” he taunted. Then he jumped backward off the edge of the boulders down to the lower section of the tunnels. Damanhur looked as if he would chase him down, but Bingmei swung her staff around and blocked him.

  “Don’t,” she warned.

  “He has my sword!” said Damanhur angrily.

  “I know. He’s trying to get us to chase him. Think clearly, not with emotion. He brought back Mieshi. That’s enough for now.”

  “I’ll kill him,” Damanhur vowed.

  “Not yet.”

  Jiaohua strode up to them. “If what he said is true, we may be trapped between two forces.”

  Bingmei nodded in agreement. “Get your men and see if the young ones have been captured.” She frowned, trying to steel herself against the worry blooming in her stomach. Trapped in a cave with no way out. “We may have to fight our way free.”

  Thankfully, Marenqo had reached Quion’s group before they attempted to leave through the other exit. The two groups had gathered in the high ground in the middle of the Dongxue caves, with guards at each side of the large cavern. It was clear Liekou had been correct in one respect—Qiangdao were coming in from both sides. Given their bold approach, they clearly thought their victory was a given. The queer reverberations of sound made it feel like their enemies were all around them.

  She looked at the worried faces around her. Fighters. Servants. Children. They were looking to her for leadership, and she felt young and inexperienced. Quion squatted on his haunches, stroking the fur of his snow leopard. His eyes were fixed on Bingmei’s face too, his faith in her disarming.

  “What would you advise?” she asked the warriors. She looked at Jiaohua first. He was the most cunning of them all.

  He rubbed his mouth, his eyes sly and devious. “They know we’re here. What they’ll likely do is summon their full strength and then attack from both sides.” He brought his palms together with a resounding smack, as if he were squashing a bug. “We need to move to another place.”

  “What about the lower caves?” Quion suggested.

  Jiaohua frowned. “It’s a dead end. Nowhere to run.”

  “I know,” Quion said. “But I’ve explored down there. There are many places to hide. We’ll tuck ourselves away while Bingmei uses the meiwood cricket to lead them out of the caves. When they’re chasing her, the rest of us will attack at the rear.”

  “Not a bad plan for a fisherman,” said Damanhur with approval.

  Mieshi smiled at him, nodding her head. She’d physically recovered from her brush with death, but Bingmei could smell her lingering fear.

  Jiaohua frowned. “I thought the purpose was to keep her alive. If she’s jumping around the tunnels in the dark, she’s likely to kill herself on accident.”

  “You have no faith in me?” Bingmei asked him.

  He grunted. “I don’t have faith in anyone. I look at the worst that can happen. You getting captured—or killed—wouldn’t be good for any of us.”

  “They’re coming,” called Huqu from his guard post. “I see a row of torches coming from the tunnel.”

  Bingmei scowled. “What about the other side?”

  The other guard shook his head. “Not yet. They’re only coming in from the frozen falls side.”

  Jiaohua nodded. “They can’t communicate with each other. Maybe they’re trying to push us out the other side. Like hunters herding prey.”

  “We need to hide,” Bingmei said. “Let them herd air. I like Quion’s plan. They’ll chase me; I know they will. But don’t attack them from behind. Slip out of the caves through the falls entrance and run. I’ll follow you when I can.”

  “What if they’re out there waiting for us?” Jiaohua said.

  “The majority of them will follow me,” Bingmei said. “Jiaohua, lead the servants and children to safety. Mieshi, you lead the warriors when I’m gone. Take them out in small numbers. Be as quiet as spiders.”

  Mieshi gave Bingmei a solemn nod, her cheeks flushed with pride.

  “It’s time for a chase,” Bingmei said. She’d replaced the wig her enemy had yanked off, but she took it off again, stowing it in her pack. Her red hair would be a beacon to Echion’s men.

  Bingmei wasn’t the oldest. She wasn’t the strongest. She wasn’t even the most clever.

  But she was the one who had agreed to lead them. And just like Kunmia, she would take most of the risks herself.

  Bingmei knew the tunnels well enough to traverse them in the dark. But the light of the Qiangdao’s torches helped illuminate her path—a boon offset by the awful stench that had invaded the underground caverns. She clambered down the boulders, keeping to the shadows, ignoring the occasional drops of water that rained down on her from overhead. At one point, she invoked the magic of the meiwood cricket to leap from one ridge of stone to the next, dropping low and listening for any exclamations of surprise.

  Her heart beat nervously, but she was also thrilled by what she was doing. She invoked the cricket’s magic again, hopping to the floor, and ventured around the rough ground littered with strange, grotesque statuary.

  Her boot loosened a few rocks, which clattered against the wall. She winced, pressing herself against a stone pillar. A few men with torches came up to investigate, the glow from their torches all but announcing them, and she waited, gripping her staff. As soon as the first man poked his head around the rock, she swung the weapon around, catching him full in the face. He squinted in pain, his nose bleeding profusely, and she stepped around and thumped him in the chest with the end of the staff. The other two men gaped at her in surprise, one of them pointing at her in silent accusation. She quickly spun the staff and knocked both of them down. One of the men slid uncontrollably down the rocky expanse, plummeting down a ravine. Shouts of alarm sounded.

  Let the chase begin.

  Bingmei stooped and picked up one of the fallen torches, holding it high so her enemies could see her red hair. Then she plunged the torch into the rocks and sped the other way. The roar that filled the tunnel was deafening. She invoked the meiwood cricket and jumped up onto one of the stone statues. Then leaped to another. And another.

  Confusion spread as the warriors tried to catch her in vain. Her pulse raced as she deftly bounded along the entire line of stone statues, using the magic of the cricket. A stone missile whistled past, just barely missing her.

  Bingmei jumped down into the midst of a knot of Qiangdao. Her sudden appearance startled them, even more so when she slammed her staff into them. She gripped one end of the weapon and swung it around like a club. It knocked over three people before she backed up and swung it the other way. Four Qiangdao fell this time. Before they could recover, she used the cricket to bound over them, watching as the men collided with one another in their haste to follow her.

  The torches, which had been going in a uniform direction before, were now scattered like fluff from a dandelion. She bounded over the main path, landing on a rock on the far side, and felt her boot slip. Just barely keeping her balance, she took a deep breath and invoked the cricket once more, springing to another boulder. Then another. She jumped behind a great stone and leaned back against it, trying to catch her breath again. The next chamber was getting closer. If she could get there, she might be able to vault ahead of the other Qiangdao, forcing them to backtrack and chase her. If she managed it, her ensign would be able to escape.

  Feeling she’d paused long enough, she kept low and skirted around the boulders, trying to keep out of the light.

  She heard someone charge her from behind. Bingmei thrust the staff behind her, making him howl in pain. She took off running again, only to collide with the body of a Qiangdao who suddenly lunged out from behind a boulder. He swung a chui at her head, but she ducked at the last moment, causing the iron ball to crash against the boulder. The man bellowed in pain and anger. She kicked him twice and invoked the cricket again when he fell
. It sent her up and over the men who had begun to mass around her. When she landed, she ran with all the strength and speed she could muster.

  Bingmei saw a shelf of rock higher up, almost like a trail, and used the cricket to bound up to it. At least she was out of reach, although the higher position left her exposed.

  Then the unthinkable happened. Part of the ledge crumbled, and Bingmei started plummeting toward the ground. There was no time to invoke the cricket, and she winced in the expectation of pain. Falling from this height, she might break a limb or worse.

  Except that didn’t happen.

  Warmth gushed down her spine, and when her feet touched the ground, it didn’t hurt. She bounced off her toes, rising again in an effortless arc as the phoenix’s feathery magic tingled inside her. This was the same magic that had helped her escape from Sajinau. Nothing she’d done had invoked it—at least, nothing she knew she’d done. But she didn’t second-guess the power that sent her hurtling toward the next chamber.

  Her heart sang with the magic as she looked down at the Qiangdao, who gazed at her in open astonishment.

  In the next chamber, she saw another horde of men with torches, all struggling to get in through the mouth of the cavern. They shouted savagely at one another, pushing and shoving, as they tried to enter the maelstrom. Surprised shouts and bellows ripped through the air as she soared over their heads, her copper hair streaming behind her. Some pointed at her, others tried jumping to grab her. But she swooped past them to the end of the gang, where a few stragglers were relieving themselves against the stone pillars.

  With precision, she flew to the entrance, where a frozen waterfall concealed the mouth of the cave. Dawn sunlight sparkled on the rocky wall. Her heart thrilled with joy, knowing Quion’s plan was working. If she could maintain her phoenix magic, she’d be able to lead the whole army of Qiangdao away from the caves.

  The tunnel began to tighten, and she swept lower down. Coming around the bend, she saw the huge wall of blue-gray ice of the frozen waterfall. A rocky bed of silt and stone hugged the narrow sloping wall of the cave, and melted water lapped against the frozen falls.