The Buried World (The Grave Kingdom)

by Jeff Wheeler

  There was a man kneeling in the rock and silt, guarded by three men with swords, his hands bound behind his back.

  He lifted his head as she swept toward him, and her heart lurched with recognition.

  It was Rowen, the disgraced prince of Sajinau.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Iron Rules

  The last time she had seen Rowen, he had also been kneeling. Echion had forced him to submit to the emperor’s justice at the palace of Sajinau. His brother, Juexin, had elected to die in his place. She’d heard no word of him since that day, although she’d often wondered what had become of him. Whether he was still alive. Now here he was, kneeling before the frozen falls, his haunted gaze meeting hers. She could smell his relief at seeing her.

  Her presence was immediately obvious to his guards. One Qiangdao unsheathed his sword, but she flew straight for him and landed in the gravel, spraying rocks as she came to a halt. The rune staff whipped around, blocking his blade, and she charged forward, leaping up and kicking him in the face. When she landed, she struck the second guard, who was still fumbling to draw a dagger from his belt. The end of her staff clipped him on the cheekbone, sending him spinning to the ground.

  The third man had also drawn his weapon, a saber, and he swung it down at her. She brought the staff up and caught the edge of the blade over her head. The saber bit into the meiwood, but it was a strong wood, one of the strongest that grew, and the damage was minimal. He backed away and then spun around, slicing the saber toward her legs this time. She intercepted the blow with the staff, planting a foot, and then kicked him hard in the neck. The pain jolted him, and she followed through with the staff again, dropping him onto the gravel with a blow to the head. She spun around again, feeling the tingling sensation that assured her the phoenix magic was still available to her. She could fly if she willed it so.

  Once her three enemies were defeated, she hastened to Rowen, dropping down next to him and working at the knots.

  “Bingmei,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Where are the others? You’re not alone, are you?”

  “Still in the caves,” she answered, frowning at the knots that refused to yield. Without thinking, she set down the staff and drew the Phoenix Blade. As soon as it cleared the scabbard, she felt its power shoot down her arms. It was a relief, as if the sword were finally where it belonged. She inserted the sharp edge of the blade between the bonds and severed them effortlessly. The ropes crumpled down onto the gravel.

  Rowen’s wrists were red and chafed, but he paid them only cursory attention as he rose to his feet and turned to face her. He was much taller than her, and he wore the hide and furs of someone who’d been journeying during the winter months.

  His hand reached out and toyed with one of her braids. She caught a whiff of something that reminded her of warm bread fresh from the ovens instead of the pomegranate smell of the past. He gazed at her, taking in her face, and she felt her cheeks grow hot. Men did not usually look at her this way.

  “We have to get out,” Rowen said. “One of them is very dangerous. He knows dianxue, and he—”

  “I know,” Bingmei interrupted. “We’ve already faced him. Where have you been all this time?”

  She heard noise echoing off the walls. The Qiangdao were heading their way in a hurry. The plan was working, but they needed to escape.

  “This way,” Rowen said, gripping her wrist. “I know of a place we can hide.”

  “Where?” she asked.

  “Just follow me. Come on. We don’t have much time.”

  In the past he’d had a tendency for double-dealing, which gave someone a musty scent, but she couldn’t smell any deception on him now. She sheathed the Phoenix Blade and picked up her staff. Together, they jogged through the gravel until they reached the end of the frozen falls where the tunnel opened into the bright sky beyond. The light stabbed her eyes as she went out with him. Holding her hand up, she squinted, trying to see past the vivid blue of the sky. Snow covered the ground in every direction, but it had been trampled by dozens of feet.

  “They won’t find our footsteps if we stay in this area,” he said, waving his arm toward the mess of crumpled snow. Their boots crunched in the debris, and she saw their breaths coming out in puffs. As they hurried along the path, she realized dozens of small snow caves had been dug into both sides of the trail.

  “When did you arrive?” she asked him, her nose feeling the bite of the wind.

  “Two days ago,” he answered. “We dug in here to wait for the rest of the Qiangdao to arrive. Both ends of the tunnel are being guarded.”

  He led her from one snow cave to the next as if searching for something. Finally, he must have found the one he was searching for, because he motioned for her to go inside. She noticed an iron stake, branded with a dragon, driven into the snow near the door.

  She looked at him in confusion.

  “Trust me,” he said, gesturing again. She saw little cookfires still smoldering around the area, some even with small pots suspended above them on iron stakes.

  No scent of deception muddied the air, so she did as he asked and ducked into the cave. The entry was so small she needed to crawl on her belly, which she did after scooting her staff in first. Once she was inside, Rowen crawled in after her.

  The interior of the cave wasn’t tall enough for Bingmei to stand in, although it was easily a span-and-a-half wide at its largest point. The inner wall was slick and solid and glowed with daylight. It was much warmer inside the snow cave than out in the open. Wide ridges were dug into the walls, large enough to serve as makeshift bed pallets, on which lay several fur blankets. She noticed a half-drunk cup of tea that had a flowery scent cut through with spiciness from several coils of cinnamon bark. There were other evidences of civilization in the close space, including a jade pendant carved into a lion, hanging from an iron nail driven into the snow.

  Rowen popped through the entrance as she took off her pack and set it down on one of the ridges. He went to the other side.

  “There are at least fifty of these caves,” he said in a low voice. “We dug them as shelters when we arrived. The Qiangdao are very resourceful about surviving in the winters. I’ve learned a lot traveling with them.”

  “Why were you looking for this particular one?” she asked him.

  “It belongs to Liekou,” he answered. “The leader of this expedition. He’s unlikely to come back without you, but if he does, you can bash him on the head with your staff.” He cocked his head, then his expression went dark. “Shhh, I hear them coming.”

  He was right. Soon enough, the mountainside was full of Qiangdao searching for them. Working together by silent agreement, they stayed on opposite sides of the small crawl door so they wouldn’t be seen unless someone came inside. Rough voices shouted, but the sound was muffled by the packed snow.

  “Aren’t we trapped here?” she whispered to him.

  He gazed at her and offered a little shrug. “If we’d tried going down the mountain during the daylight, we wouldn’t have made it far. If we go at night, it will be much easier to escape.”

  “I’m not leaving the others,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

  “Of course not. I didn’t think you would. If I could have warned you and the others to flee, I would have. But I haven’t been free myself until this moment.” The sound of approaching steps put them both on alert, even more so when it stopped just outside their cave. Rowen paused, swallowing, and Bingmei gripped the staff hard.

  Whoever it was started walking again, away from the cave, and they both sighed.

  “Have you been in Sajinau up until now?” she asked him.

  He shook his head. “No. I’ve been chasing you. Well, pretending to at any rate.”

  Her brows wrinkled.

  “I can still sense the sword,” he told her. “I can feel you whenever you train with it, Bingmei. I knew where you were. And Echion knows it. Despite all his powers, he cannot feel you through the blade. You’r
e invisible to him, which is a good thing. But he is hunting you still. Every town, every village, every fishing boat will be looking for you now that the season is ending.”

  “Is it ending?” Bingmei asked. His words had sent a jolt of fear through her heart.

  He nodded. “The snows are melting even earlier this year. He has power over the weather too, I think.” He smiled at her. “If he captures you, his power will increase tenfold.”

  She stared at him in shock.

  “Jidi Majia explained it to me before we left,” he went on. “His power is only half of what it could be. If his queen is revived, he will have access to his full power. When we went to Fusang, you were supposed to resurrect them both.” A smile flashed on his mouth and twinkled in his eyes. “You fled. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Your power of smell saved your life, Bingmei. If you had resurrected Xisi, he would have killed you there at the Summer Palace.”

  “Xisi is his queen,” Bingmei said thoughtfully. “I imagine she’s very much like him.”

  Rowen nodded. “Jidi Majia said they are both dragons. They are the pair of dragons in all the effigies he’s studied in his many journeys. Before we were captured. Before his fate.”

  “But he’s still alive,” Bingmei said, remembering her vision.

  Rowen’s brow crinkled with dread. “Yes, but he’s a eunuch now. Any man who serves Echion in his palaces must be . . . castrated. Poor Jidi Majia. Everything is changing so quickly. I hardly know where to begin.”

  “Shhh,” Bingmei warned, hearing other steps approach. Her stomach knotted in worry, but she waited by the entrance, gripping the staff. There wasn’t enough space for a full swing, but she knew she could still summon enough force to crack a skull.

  A shadow appeared by the entrance, and fear emanated from Rowen, sour and stressed.

  A voice sounded a question from outside. It wasn’t Liekou’s voice, but she didn’t recognize the dialect. They waited for several heart-tense moments, and then the person left.

  Rowen sighed in relief. She reached out and touched his arm, giving him a reassuring nod.

  His voice pitched even lower. “Echion has instituted a series of laws called the Iron Rules. He’s teaching a language. It’s like ours, only it has words written in black ink on paper. Each word is a symbol, a glyph. Positions of honor go to scholars now, people who are willing to learn to write the words. Echion assigns a leader to each town. It’s not how I thought it would be.” He winced, shaking his head, struggling for words. “I thought the Qiangdao would spread anarchy. Lawlessness. It’s quite the opposite. The Iron Rules govern everything. Echion has these strange scrolls written on wooden slats. Each one is painstakingly carved. The laws are written on them, and the scholars have been studying them.”

  “What do they say?” Bingmei asked with curiosity.

  “Which violations should result in death. Consequences for thievery. They are meticulously detailed. He has empowered judges to enforce his Iron Rules. The former kings and rulers have been deposed and executed. He’s replaced them with military leaders mostly, in charge of defending. But judges enforce the rules on the populace. Every day, the scribes read the Iron Rules out loud in the village square. Let me give you an example. No one is allowed to carry weapons except the military officers and warriors assigned to them. If you are caught with a sword, the punishment is three years’ imprisonment. No excuses. People have one chance to turn in their weapons of war, which are then melted down and turned into farming tools.

  “Echion’s disarmed the people so they cannot rise up in rebellion. Anyone who speaks ill of the Dragon of Night is sentenced to prison also.”

  Bingmei’s eyes narrowed. “And where are these prisons?”

  Rowen darted a look at her. “Those who have been rounded up already have been sent to the Death Wall to make repairs. Four years of service for many crimes, some even longer. If you refuse to work, you’ll be put to death. Echion doesn’t care.”

  Bingmei was grateful they had avoided the towns and villages for the most part. It would be dangerous for them to enter a village with their weapons.

  “Every person is given a duty to perform,” he continued. “That is part of the Iron Rules too. Most are assigned to grow or collect food, be they fishermen, hunters, farmers, or gatherers. Hunters are allowed weapons, but they have to hunt for the entire village, not just their family. The rules are very strict and control every aspect of life.”

  “Can someone choose to be a hunter?” Bingmei asked him.

  He shook his head no. “Their positions are chosen for them by local judges. Each village or town has a certain number of roles to be filled. Someone might not want to prepare food. It doesn’t matter. If they are chosen for it, they must do it. If they refuse . . . the Death Wall.”

  Bingmei had a difficult time imagining what Wangfujing would be like under such oppressive rules. King Budai had never forced anyone to be a certain thing. Life in his kingdom had always been a little wild, a little lawless.

  “What about the Qiangdao? Are they bound by the laws?”

  Rowen nodded. “Yes. If they abuse someone without cause, they, too, are punished according to the Iron Rules. They have more freedoms and can carry weapons, but I heard the case of a villager who complained to a judge that a Qiangdao had abused his daughter. The offender was castrated. The Iron Rules are enforced systematically. My father could never have enforced such a strict code on his people, but Echion brooks no objections. The Iron Rules are the Iron Rules.”

  Bingmei felt a chill go down her back, and it wasn’t because of the snow cave. “How far has his dominion spread?”

  “As far west as Tianrui and Renxing,” Rowen said. “His ships did not stop with the advent of winter. Out of the eleven kingdoms, there are only four that he hasn’t yet conquered.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Discovered

  Bingmei and Rowen quieted as the mass of Qiangdao continued to filter back into the camp. It was impossible to hear what was going on outside, but they heard the unmistakable sounds of men marching, followed by shouts of command. They hunkered in the snow cave, waiting, watchful.

  The shelter was warm, however, and their combined heat made it preferable to being outside. After a long time, the noise and confusion outside calmed down. The occasional muffled word reached them, but the frequency grew less and less. At last, it was still enough that they could risk talking again.

  “Is Damanhur still alive?” Rowen asked, his brow wrinkling. “Did he make it out of Sajinau when you fled?”

  “He did. But not whole. He lost his arm in the fight.”

  The furrow in Rowen’s brow deepened. “That’s . . . that’s a blow. But he didn’t quit, did he? That wouldn’t be his way. He would train—”

  “With his other arm,” Bingmei interrupted. “You do know him well. He’ll be pleased to see you, Rowen.”

  “Everything we thought we knew broke to pieces when Echion awoke. There is a lot I need to tell him.”

  Silence lingered for a moment, and then she felt compelled to say, “I was there when your brother was killed.”

  The moment had left a seismic impression on her, so what must it have done to Rowen?

  He nodded slightly, staring at the small entry hole of the ice cave. Immediately, the interior filled with the sour smell of his guilt.

  “I know,” he answered, still not looking at her. She’d wondered about that. He had looked toward the place of her concealment, an iron grate at the base of the courtyard of Sajinau.

  She waited for him to say more, but he didn’t.

  “How did you know I was there?” she asked him.

  He glanced at her, his expression enigmatic. “I’ve already told you that I can sense you.”

  “But I didn’t have the Phoenix Blade then,” she said. “The man who murdered my parents had it. So how did you know I was there?”

  He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure I can explain it.” He cocked his head, looking at her
with just one eye. “We’re connected, you and me. Haven’t you felt it as well?”

  “I didn’t know you were nearby,” she told him. “It was a surprise finding you by the frozen waterfall.”

  “But I knew you were coming,” he said. He turned his head and looked at her fully. “There is something between us, Bingmei. A bond. Maybe because of what happened to your parents, your friends, you don’t let yourself feel. You shut yourself off from your emotions.”

  She smelled something then, something he was trying hard to keep hidden from her. She caught just a whiff of it, and it was a delicious smell. Her cheeks started to burn.

  “Have you sensed it?” he said softly. “Has it happened to you too?”

  She blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

  He sighed and shook his head, looking away. “I can’t properly explain it, Bingmei, but there is something between us, some destiny that pulls and tugs at us like threads in a loom. Each day, I begin to see the pattern of the fabric more clearly. A story is being woven, and we are both in it.”

  She shifted forward, coming closer to him. “And what pattern do you see, Rowen? Tell me.”

  He shook his head, and this time, she smelled something else. Fear. “I cannot see the future. I’m blind to it. But I know how it feels. You must begin to open your heart, Bingmei. Before it’s too late.”

  His words and scent both confounded her. What was preventing him from telling her everything he knew? Something told her the problem wasn’t an inability to articulate his feelings.

  Perhaps he dreaded telling her.

  Or perhaps his hesitation to communicate his true feelings had merely taken a new form. Why couldn’t he just say what he meant?

  Annoyed by his lack of transparency, she said, “If you are asking me to accept the future of the prophecy, you’re wasting your breath. I don’t want to die. I won’t go to the Death Wall. There has to be another way.”

  He gently reached up his hand and brushed strands of her strange red hair from her brow. No one had done that since her mother had died, and it felt surprisingly good. “I don’t want you to die either,” he said huskily. “This destiny chokes at me. At us. You are my protector, my ensign. How many times have you saved my life?”