Never Die

by Rob J. Hayes

  The skeletal monster lurched into a run, straight towards Zhihao, its arms outstretched towards him. Zhihao stepped through the world, leaving his image to scatter on the breeze, and reappeared next to the yokai. Two swift strikes with his swords battered the thing's head, tearing away flesh, but leaving no lasting damage. The creature seemed to feel no pain. As it turned towards him, Zhihao ducked under its arms and hooked his swords in its bared rib cage, pivoting and swinging the yokai around.

  "Duck!" A high-pitched voice shouted. Zhihao ducked down just as Chen Lu's mace connected with the yokai's body, bursting apart bones and flesh. When Zhihao stood again he found his swords hooked around a single remaining rib connected to a hip and two standing legs.

  "Thanks for the warning," he laughed. Then the leg with flesh still attached kicked Zhihao in the face.

  Zhihao staggered back a couple of steps, and rubbed at his face with one hand. He stood next to Chen Lu and they watched as the legs teetered, stumbling left and then right, but not falling. After a few moments Iron Gut lurched forwards with a shout and smashed his mace down on the legs, crushing them to the ground. He hit them again and again until he was pouring sweat and huffing in huge breaths. There was little left but pulverised flesh and bone dust, but still one of the feet twitched. Zhihao hooked a sword through the toe bones, and slung the twitching foot deeper into the forest. When he turned to Chen Lu, the fat man nodded at him, a job well done. It only took two legends to deal with a single staggering corpse.

  Itami was protecting the boy, her sword held in both hands before her, and a steaming pile of green flesh at her feet. Zhihao considered asking, but quickly decided he had no wish to know what the thing had been.

  A rifle sounded and Zhihao turned to see Roi Astara already reloading. The leper nodded and Zhihao glimpsed something red in the forest beyond him. A harsh cackle drifted out from the trees in front of them. Zhihao caught a glimpse of the yokai then, a beautiful woman wearing a wedding robe stained red. She floated above the forest floor, and her black hair flowed as though she were underwater.

  "The bullets pass through her," the leper said.

  "Let me try some hardened steel instead," Zhihao said with a confidence that he surely didn't feel.

  The woman floated towards them, laughing savagely, muddy tears rolling down her porcelain face. Her claw-tipped finger dripped something foul and black. Zhihao darted forwards and hooked his swords together, slashing at the woman. The swords passed through her like she was smoke. Zhihao unhooked his swords and moved in closer. He slashed her again with his left sword, then spun and punched her in the face with the sharpened guard of the right, tearing away bits of the apparition like a breeze through fog; still she advanced, and clawed at his face. He dodged once, and then stepped through the world, leaving his scattered image for the woman to tear at. He reappeared next to Roi Astara.

  "That didn't work," the leper said.

  "No," Zhihao agreed. "It did not."

  Itami breezed past them in a rustle of fabric, the tip of her sword dragging through the carpet of leaves and twigs. She stopped in front of the apparition, ducked a swipe, and brought her blade upwards, cutting the ghost in half. It screamed and seemed to boil away, bubbling and fading until nothing was left of the red dress or porcelain skin.

  "That worked," the leper said.

  Zhihao nodded. "I tried my best."

  "Whispering Blade's best was better."

  Zhihao turned and frowned at Roi Astara, and then realised just how close they were standing. He backed off a step, meeting the leper's eye, but there was no hostility there, only understanding.

  A screech turned Zhihao around and he saw Ein struggling, pinned to the forest floor by a small green dog with huge front legs and tiny back legs. Its fat body ended not in a head, but in a large mouth with pointed fangs. The boy was trying to push it away, but the hound slipped his grip and took hold of his small arm, worrying it between its teeth. Zhihao flung one of his swords. Hooked swords were not ideal throwing weapons, but he made it work. The blade hooked into the spirit's flesh, and sent it reeling a few feet from Ein. It was enough space for Zhihao to step through the world and dig his second sword into the creature, hooking its mouth. Zhihao yanked the thrown sword free from the hound's flesh, and hooked into the other side of its gaping mouth. He pulled the yokai's mouth wider and wider until its jowls started to tear and blood oozed out. Zhihao's muscles were straining and he was near screaming when the hound's jaw finally split open. But rather than die, the creature lay there on the forest floor, whining in pain and lapping at the blood that leaked from its broken mouth.

  Zhihao was still staring down at the creature when Itami stepped past him and buried her sword in the hound's body. It spasmed and then died with a pitiful mewl. Zhihao turned away in disgust and found Chen Lu panting and holding a grotesque man by the arm with one hand while the man chomped at Iron Gut's forearm, heedless of his teeth crumbling against the fat man's iron skin. The man had sallow flesh, hair like straw, and a bulbous nose that mocked his hideous face. Chen Lu used his free hand to seize the man's other arm and rip it off the man's body, but instead of gushing blood, a few drips of black gore trickled from the man's opened shoulder, and he didn't even seem to feel it.

  "Jikininki," Chen Lu said. "Corpse eater." He tossed the one armed man onto the camp fire, where it flailed about, and eventually regained its feet. Itami separated his head with a clean swipe of her katana, and the body dropped, smothering what was left of the fire.

  They all fell silent then, listening as the normal sounds of the forest returned. The attack was over, for now, that much was clear. Zhihao would have thought the boy shaken by the experience, especially seeing as he was nearly eaten by a faceless green hound, and had the wounds to show for it. But the boy just mumbled something to himself over and over again, and rubbed his scarf between his bloody fingers. Zhihao noticed the wounds were barely bleeding, despite them being quite deep. He wondered at that, but had little time to broach the subject.

  Chen Lu pulled the jikininki's burning corpse from the fire and tossed it farther into the forest as though it weighed no more than a doll. Then they all set about putting their little camp in order. In silence they cleared the fire and set it going anew. Then they all settled down to rest again. Iron Gut even managed to return to his deafening snoring again, but Zhihao knew he wouldn't sleep another wink that night. Or perhaps ever again. Before he met Ein, he had known spirits existed, had heard many of the stories, but he had never seen one. Now he had seen six, and even killed one. At least it was a kill he would remember.

  "Is this likely to happen again?" Zhihao asked to anyone who might still be listening. Sleep was beyond him and the quiet was a gnawing itch on his nerves. "Not that I don't enjoy fighting half-rotted corpses of women…"

  "Hone-onna," the boy said. He had quit his panicked fiddling with his scarf and was busy stitching his wounds. "She wasn't half rotted. The hone-onna rise as skeletons from the grave. They choose healthy victims and steal their organs and flesh, stretching it over their bones to become human once again."

  "Oh." Zhihao sighed, no more pleased than before, now that he knew the name of the thing he had defeated.

  "The shinigami can command many spirits," the boy continued. "If one has set its eyes on me, I feel it is unlikely the yokai we faced tonight will be the last. We must be vigilant. They know where I am." The boy looked across the firelight at Zhihao. "We are being hunted."

  Chapter 18

  The remainder of their journey was peaceful, save for Chen Lu's complaining about running out of wine and Zhihao's complaining about Chen Lu's complaints. Cho kept a keen eye on Ein. The wound given to him by the hound spirit was sewn shut, but it showed no signs of healing. No scabs formed, but neither did the wound seem to fester, and the stitches the boy had sewn into his skin held tight. She suggested they bandage it, or maybe even wrap his red scarf around the wound to keep it from getting dirty, but Ein just shook his head an
d pulled the scarf tighter around his neck. Cho didn't think she was the only one to notice: Roi Astara rarely took his white eye from the boy.

  They saw no other spirits, yokai, Eeko'Ai, or any other, and Cho was glad of that. She held no particular fascination or revulsion for them, but neither did she like the trouble that spirits always seemed to bring. Spirits were a part of the world, and had been for as long as the world had been, but they usually kept away from most humans. Except when they didn't, and those were times of great strife in the world.

  On the third day the bamboo forest gave way to a wooden path, still under construction. It felt good to have solid human construction under foot again; it gave the impression that they were headed in the right direction, back to some sort of civilisation. The Century Blade may have enjoyed his time lost in nature, wandering forest and mountain, all alone and apart from human contact, but Cho was not him. Whispering Blade much preferred cities to forests and hated the thought of being alone. When she thought about it, she could almost feel what it was like to be dead, in that time before Ein brought her back. She felt that she was alone. A loneliness so complete it was as though no one else had ever existed, and that scared her far more than any trial life had ever thrown at her.

  Sun Valley stretched out before them. Hills climbed up high and wide, rising into mountains on either side of the valley, but there, where it was lowest, Cho could see green trees, fields dotted with colour and men and women working them, and a lake that shimmered in the midday light. At the far end of the valley, the largest mountain of all rose up, and nestled into its side was a giant structure, the Sun Valley dojo. She couldn't imagine how men could build such a thing, or how they managed to make it cling to the mountain so.

  A large group of men and women near the bottom of the valley were practising a type of open-hand wushu Cho had never seen before as though it were a dance. Dozens of people followed the lead of master, moving in a mesmerising synchronicity. Cho stopped to watch the practice, and before long she found the others next to her. As one, the wushu practitioners let out a powerful shout, voices mingled together to form into a blast of sound, yet the ground did not shake and the grass did not stir. That technique was Cho's alone.

  "Strong qi makes strong bodies," Chen Lu said, hiding beneath his yellow parasol. "Weak qi makes weak minds." He reached out and flicked a finger at Zhihao's head.

  "My mind is strong enough, fat man," Zhihao replied, but he didn't move away from Chen Lu. That seemed an improvement: The Emerald Wind was no longer trying so hard to keep himself separate from the others.

  The wushu master glanced towards them and straightened. He raised his hand and waved, a greeting with some familiarity. Roi Astara was the one to wave back, and the man bowed to his students, then left them. He was tall and rakishly thin, bare chested and dripping with sweat from practising wushu in the sun, but he did not appear tired. Quite the opposite, the man appeared energised. He bounded up the hill toward Cho and the others, a smile written large across his gaunt face, his long black tail of hair whipping about from the motion. He stopped close by and bowed again, this time directly to Roi Astara, who returned the respect, though Cho knew it pained him to bend.

  "It is good to see you again, Death's Echo," the man said, his voice deep and full of mirth. "I had thought we might not get another chance."

  Roi Astara straightened from his own bow. "I am less than I was before, but still alive for now," he said in his raspy, muffled voice.

  "Your search for a cure?"

  The leper was silent for a moment too long. Perhaps no one else noticed, but Cho did. He was holding back, maybe from the others or maybe from himself. He truly believed Ein might be the cure for his disease, but hope was a dangerous commodity to give voice to. Inside it could be suppressed and denied, but once it was out, there was no taking it back.

  "Ongoing," Roi Astara said at last. "I still fear my body will finally fail before I find it."

  The man bowed again, then pushed his tail of hair back behind him, it reached almost down to his waist. "You are, as ever, welcome in Sun Valley. Either to rest, or to live out the remainder of your days in whatever comfort we can offer. We owe you that much and more."

  "Thank you."

  "We have made enquiries, on your behalf, but Cochtan's healers are also at a loss. They recommended cleansing your chakras. And leeches."

  Roi Astara let out a rasping chuckle and the man joined in. "The Cochtans love their leeches. But they have never worked before, I see no reason they would now."

  Again the master bowed, and finally turned his attention to Roi Astara's companions. "I, Tien Han, welcome you to Sun Valley. Friends of Death's Echo are friends of the valley."

  "Do friends of the valley get fed?" Chen Lu asked without preamble or shame.

  "Do you think of anything but food, fat man?" Zhihao asked.

  "I think of wine. Occasionally women." Chen Lu nodded to himself. "That about covers it."

  Tien looked on, smiling. "We have simple food. Mostly rice and fruit. Some fish from the lake. Perhaps you will grant me your names before I feed you?"

  "Iron Gut Chen, master of qi. You'll have heard of me." He finished by slapping his belly. If Tien had, in fact, heard of Iron Gut Chen, he gave no indication.

  "Zhihao Cheng…" Zhihao said.

  "The Green Breeze," Chen Lu added with a laugh.

  "The Emerald Wind." Zhihao stared daggers up at Chen Lu, but the fat man ignored him.

  Cho bowed to Tien. "Itami Cho. And this little one is Ein. We are escorting him to Wu, but he wanted to see the legendary Sun Valley first."

  "You are welcome to stay with us, and see what our valley has to offer." Tien proceeded to lead them down into the valley. It was a tour of sorts: he pointed out the crops they grew on either side, grapes mostly grew in the central areas of the valley where the sun hit all day round. They were large and red and juicy, and though they tasted foul Cho would happily have eaten a handful. But out of respect she limited herself to only one. Chen Lu was not so deferent and devoured more than many. If Tien thought him rude, he did not say. They were told that most of the grapes were pulped and turned into wine, a far more valuable product than the fruit itself, and then sold to the cities of Hosa, and even a few up north beyond the Cochtan border. Both Chen Lu and Zhihao were quite enthusiastic about the prospect of wine, it was almost as though they had both forgotten that it would taste of filth.

  On the east side of the valley they grew brown tea, and on the west side they grew green tea. Tien explained that Sun Valley traded for most of what they needed, and Cho was surprised to discover that most of the tea consumed in Hosa was grown right here in the confines of the valley. It was a booming trade, but despite that fact, Sun Valley remained neutral in the conflict between the ten kings, and even now that the emperor had united Hosa, the residents of Sun Valley remained apart, almost like their own little kingdom. It was only by the strength of their wushu that such a thing was possible. As Tien explained it, Sun Valley traded in tea, wine, and the strongest warriors Hosa had ever known. The evidence was telling: everywhere in the valley men and women were working fields or practising their martial art. It was a small nation of warriors, strengthened by the daily toil of a hard life.

  Thanks to Roi Astara, the group spent their first night in Sun Valley as honoured guests at the head of a feast. A grand wooden dojo was cleared of weapons and tables and chairs were brought in. Plates of food were brought out to the tables, and Sun Valley residents, and visitors alike were encouraged to move amongst the tables, sampling whichever foods they liked. When the sun set over Sun Valley even Chen Lu found his belly full.

  Cho only picked at her food, despising the taste it left in her mouth, and Zhihao did the same. Roi Astara still refused to eat with anyone else, taking his food to a corner so no one could see what ravages his disease had done to his face. It was curiosity, more than anything else, that led Cho to catch a glimpse of the man's mouth. She snuck up on him silen
tly while he was eating. Before Roi Astara noticed and fixed his bandages, she saw he had no lips, the flesh long since having rotted away, and many of his teeth had fallen out. His flesh was wrinkled and brown, oozing in many places. The man looked half a skeleton, as horrific as the hone-onna.

  Ein ate nothing, and drank sparingly. Cho noticed his eyes roving the gathered members of Sun Valley, and the warriors did not suffer that ghostly stare well. The boy could quiet a raucous conversation from across the room with only a passing of his gaze. Despite his scrutiny, it was clear he did not find what he was looking for, and eventually Cho pulled him aside, making certain not to touch his skin.

  "We're here for someone?" she asked abruptly "Who is it we're looking for, Ein?"

  The boy sighed. "Bingwei Ma, the Master of Sun Valley. The greatest wushu master to ever live."

  "And we're going to kill him for you?"

  Ein nodded.

  "Well, I suppose I could ask around."

  "No." The boy's voice was sharp. "I will find Master Ma. Tomorrow you will fight him, and then we will leave Sun Valley."

  Cho almost laughed at that. She hadn't stopped anywhere for more than a few hours since meeting Ein, a whole day in Sun Valley seemed heavenly. "We could stay for a few days," she said. "The people here seem quite enamoured with Roi Astara, and I think Chen Lu would relish the generous portions of food."

  "No." Ein went back to searching the room with his gaze. "We don't have time to stop. The yokai have found me once, they will find me again and in greater numbers. We need to reach Wu."

  Cho shook her head. "Even if we left tomorrow, we're still more than a week away. If we bought horses—"

  "No. I will walk. And you will protect me from the yokai attacks. Only you can kill them, Whispering Blade." He looked at her, then lowered his gaze to the swords at her side.