Never Die

by Rob J. Hayes

  "This Mifune sounds like an arse to me," Zhihao said. "He gave you two swords and then told you never to draw one of them?"

  "More than that. He made me swear an oath never to draw it."

  "Why?"

  Cho slid Peace back into the saya next to War. Eventually she decided to tell them everything. "He told me they were forged as a pair. Peace steals the souls of its victims, trapping them so they can never be reborn. And War releases those souls, should it ever be drawn, allowing them to reenter the world as the stars see fit. So I swore only to use Peace against those who are evil, and never to release them by drawing War." She paused, trying to stop herself from saying more, but the tale needed to be told. "It's the only oath I've ever kept."

  A cackle drifted towards them in the darkness and echoed from the wall of the cave. It only took a moment before they were all on their feet. Cho once more held Peace in her hands. She blinked furiously, trying to see into the darkness, but she had been staring into the flames for too long: her night sight was ruined. Only Roi Astara had not been huddled around the fire, but even the leper was glancing about, unable to find the source of the laughter. It echoed all around them until Cho could hear nothing else. Then, as suddenly as it started, the laughter stopped, and instead she heard the sound of cloven hooves tapping on stone.

  From the depths of the cave, beyond their fire, a small white figure trotted. It had the body of a goat, but the face of an old man wrinkled beyond ancient. Six horns curled away behind its ears and its hair was patchy and riddled with mange. The creature closed the distance between them and stopped, heedless of the weapons pointed its way.

  "I thought you checked the cave," Cho said, shifting her grip on Peace a little, making ready to strike.

  "I did," said Zhihao. He had both hooked swords drawn, but was backing away from the goat-man. "There was nothing in there but bones and bear stink."

  "Hakutaku," Ein said. The boy was the only one still seated and he barely even spared the goat-man a glance. "He's not dangerous."

  "Not in the traditional sense," Roi Astara said. He had his rifle trained on the creature nonetheless.

  Again the creature chuckled, its mouth moving just like a man's. Then the back legs bent and it sat, watching them all around the fire. "Spare some food?" it said. "Been a long time since I tasted anything." Nobody moved to offer the creature anything.

  "It's another yokai, isn't it?" Zhihao asked. He had backed so far away now that he was standing next to Cho, and looking like he wanted to go farther. The goat stared at Zhihao, blinked once, and then nodded its head.

  "The shinigami sent me."

  "Which shinigami?" Zhihao asked. "And how many of them are there?"

  "The one chasing me," Ein said. "Hakutaku is sent to talk, not fight. You can put your weapons away." No one did.

  The yokai looked at each of them in turn. "No food then? I remember when people were more grateful."

  "You should be grateful we don't kill you, goat!" Zhihao said, now a step behind Cho.

  "You could." The goat nodded. "But what good would that do ya? I can't fight. Heh, I've only got three teeth." The got-man smiled to prove his point and he wasn't lying.

  "So what do you want?"

  "Want? To talk. And eat." His face looked hopeful.

  Chen Lu shook his head. "You'll get no food from us, yokai. Say your words then leave, or I will eat you."

  "No meat on me. Skin and bones here."

  Chen Lu shrugged and lowered himself to sit cross-legged. "I can eat skin and bones."

  The goat harrumphed, then turned its old man gaze on the boy. "There's nothing in Wu but death for all of you."

  "Hah, threats is it?" Chen Lu made a lazy, seated lunge, but the goat sidled away.

  "You don't grow as old as I am by making threats." The goat-man sat down again and its eyes crossed as it watched all of them at once.

  "You don't speak plainly either. Say what you will, yokai." Bingwei Ma folded his legs beneath him and sat. His face was so grave it made him seem a vengeful spirit himself.

  The goat fixed his gaze on Bingwei Ma, and then looked to Ein. "The boy has lied to you. He pits you against a man with the same master as he."

  "The Emperor of Ten Kings?" Cho said.

  "Just so. Just so. It's the left hand attacking the right. All of you will die in Wu."

  Zhihao let out a groan. He was now two steps behind Cho and would likely have gone farther, but that would have put him out of the fire light. "He's clearly lying. Chen, eat him."

  Chen Lu gave a mountainous shrug. "I'm warming to the goat. I like the way his voice makes a song of his words."

  "Much obliged." The goat's old-man face gave a wide smile, eyes glinting in the fire light.

  "Hakutaku doesn't lie," Ein said slowly. "But neither does he tell the truth."

  The goat let out a braying laugh. "We all have our curses."

  "It's a trick," Roi Astara said, turning away from the goat and squinting into the darkness beyond their little camp. "A distraction. There's an attack coming."

  "Ahh, the live one speaks." Again the goat laughed. "No attack. Just me."

  "Hey!" Zhihao took a brave step forward so he was standing next to Cho. "I'm alive too."

  "Partly alive."

  "Mostly alive."

  Again the laugh. "Partly alive, mostly dead. What's the difference, I say?"

  "I'm bored," Chen Lu said. He picked up his mace and swung it at the goat-man. But the yokai leapt away, bounding over the little fire, between Cho and Zhihao, and out into the night, its braying laughter echoing throughout the cave.

  The goat's voice drifted back to them from darkness. "Nothing in Wu but death for all of you."

  Chapter 26

  Zhihao had only passed through Qing once before. The province was quite heavy handed when it came to dealing with bandits, stamping them out with extreme military force, so it was a dangerous place for men like The Emerald Wind. Flaming Fist had always preferred to stay towards the west, in the Lau and Tsai provinces where banditry was simply considered a peril of everyday life. It's true the pickings weren't nearly so rich, but it was offset by the relative comfort and the unwillingness of the citizens to fight back. No, the fields and forests of Qing were not a place for Zhihao, so no sooner did they pass into the province, than he put up his hood and kept it up. After all, it had been a very long time and he doubted any of the officials were still looking for him, but he had always said it was better to be safe than hanged. Especially when they were crimes of another life.

  Though they hadn't seen the goat-man-thing again, and his words were already a day old when they finally reached the outskirts of Qing, they still echoed around in Zhihao's head. No one seemed willing to discuss it, preferring instead just to ignore the entire encounter, but Zhihao couldn't. The yokai had said the Emperor of Ten Kings served the same master the boy did.

  "Your feet are bleeding again," Zhihao said as Ein stepped on a sharp stone almost hidden by the tall grass. In front lay Qing: fields of grass as tall as Chen Lu, rivers that ran cold and crystal clear no matter the time of year, and trees that threatened to reach for the very stars themselves.

  The boy glanced down at his feet. "Yes. They are."

  "Tell me again why you can't wear shoes," Zhihao said.

  "Because the shinigami forbade it," Ein replied. Zhihao thought he might be imagining it, but the boy seemed to be scowling more of late.

  "Because the shinigami can't wear shoes?" Zhihao pressed the matter. He had no idea why shinigami couldn't wear shoes -- another of those unfathomable rules of the world.

  The boy shrugged and continued walking. "I don't know why. I didn't ask."

  "Why can't shinigami wear shoes?" Zhihao asked.

  "Because IoSen," Roi Astara rasped, "the goddess of consequences, cursed them to always feel the consequences of where they tread."

  Zhihao frowned at that. "So the gods can curse each other?"

  Roi Astara shrugged. "Th
e shinigami are not like the other gods. They are the reapers, the lords of death. It is their job to collect the souls of those whose time it is to die. But they have, from time to time, strayed from the path. It is not their role to cause death, only serve it. So IoSen cursed them to never wear shoes, so that they might be more inclined to stay upon the path."

  Zhihao let out a groan "That's just… stupid."

  "Leave it be, Zhihao," Itami said. She was bringing up the rear of the group and smiling. "It's good to see life again. The mountains are so barren."

  Roi Astara let out a wet cough. "There should be a village not too far east of here. We should try to get there before night sets in. There's more than just yokai to fear in Qing these days."

  They hadn't met any yokai since the goat, and none had attacked them since the mizuchi, but Roi Astara was certain they were out there at night. The leper said he could hear them moving beyond his sight, and the boy agreed. Ein said the shinigami was massing its forces for another attack, one even more dangerous than the mizuchi. Zhihao hoped it was nothing but fear mongering, yet he had a feeling deep down in his gut that said otherwise.

  They followed Roi Astara's directions into overgrown fields teeming with insects and birds. Far to the south Zhihao could see the great forest of Qing, a hazy green smudge on the horizon, but the fading light soon robbed him of the view and soon they were traipsing through grass that reached to his shoulder with nothing but moonlight to guide them. It seemed the perfect place for a yokai ambush. They wouldn't see the spirits coming until they were set upon, but Roi Astara pressed onward and nobody argued with the decision. At least not until there was smoke on the wind and the distant screams of the dying.

  To the east, beyond the tall grass, Zhihao saw an orange glow. He knew that glow well, the village they were headed toward was burning. Roi Astara stopped and the rest of them stopped with him.

  "We should divert south or north," the leper said. "We can go around."

  "East." Ein's voice was resolute, almost desperate. "I have to keep moving forwards."

  Itami tightened her grip on her sword. "We have to help them, whoever they are."

  The boy shook his head. "No. Their fate is their own."

  "We were intending to stop in their village tonight anyway."

  "No." Ein cried. "You swore an oath to me, Whispering Blade."

  "I swore to help you reach Wu and the emperor. And I swore to kill for you, good and evil, so you wouldn't bring back Flaming Fist. I did not swear to let innocent people die when I can stop it."

  "You are in the right, Itami," Bingwei Ma said. "The strong should always strive to help the weak. It is the very foundation of a wise society. Ein, you wish us to kill this emperor, an evil man committed only to the justice of the sword. You say you chose us because we are heroes, and it will take heroes to bring this tyrant down. But if we ignore the plight of people under duress, we are more villain than hero."

  The boy and the Master of Sun Valley entered into a staring contest then. Zhihao had no idea how Bingwei Ma could stand it, meeting Ein's eyes like that.

  "Enough of this," Itami hissed. "I go to save who I can." Then she was gone, sprinting away through the tall grass. A moment later Bingwei Ma followed her.

  Chen Lu sniffed loudly. He weighed his empty keg and looked at Zhihao. Then he looked toward the burning village. "They may have wine."

  The boy was staring after Bingwei Ma and Itami, watching the grass still swaying in their wake. Zhihao sauntered forward and squatted down next to him. "Personally, I agree with you, boy. A useless risk of life. It's probably just a village bonfire anyway."

  "It is bandits," Roi Astara said with conviction.

  Zhihao shook his head. "There's no bandits in Qing, foolish leper."

  Roi Astara turned his pale eye on Zhihao. "A lot has changed since your time, Emerald Wind. The Steel Prince gathers all men in Qing under his banner. Soon he will march on Wu, and in the meantime his province is beset by bandits willing to take advantage of his singlemindedness."

  "I have not heard of the Steel Prince," Ein said.

  "He's too young to be in any of your books." The leper coughed, spattering the bandages around his mouth pink. "He is the son of the king of Qing, and a man of strength and focused vengeance, determined to see justice for his father's murder. He is the last challenge to the emperor's rule. And by his side sits the Art of War, a strategist with no equal. Together, they have vowed to bring an end to the rule of WuLong."

  "Where can we find this Steel Prince?" Ein asked.

  Roi Astara was quiet for a moment, staring south towards the orange blur on the horizon. "I don't know. But maybe someone in the village could point us in the right direction."

  The boy turned his ghostly gaze on the leper and they stared at each other then. Whether it was a match of wills or some form of silent communication by way of scary stares, Zhihao couldn't tell and didn't want to know. He laughed and walked forward through the gently swaying grass and slapped Iron Gut Chen on the arm. "I'm bored, fat man. Let's go save the day."

  "It's night."

  "It's a figure of speech."

  Chen Lu frowned, but followed Zhihao into the long grass. "I don't know what that means."

  "Then just think of the wine, Lead Belly."

  As they emerged from the grass, Zhihao and Chen Lu stopped to take in the sight. The village was larger than he expected, dozens of buildings with wooden walls and sloping roofs of clay tiles, perfect for burning. A stream ran through the centre of the village, bubbling away with water that trickled down from the mountains in the north. It might have been idyllic if not for the corpses and raging fire.

  There were dozens of bandits. Maybe not as many as Flaming Fist had boasted in his day, but certainly enough that the authorities of Qing should have hunted them down and stamped them out long ago. Whispering Blade and the Master of Sun Valley were in amongst them, fighting with sword and fist, two against an army. They worked well together, that much was as clear as the night sky. They fought back to back, defending each other as often as attacking the enemy. Zhihao watched as Bingwei Ma leapt up and flipped to his left, and Itami ducked underneath him, switching positions so smoothly the bandits had no idea what was happening. Another two fell to Itami's blade while the Master of Sun Valley snapped arms like kindling, and sent bodies sailing through the air to crash into their comrades.

  "I don't think they need saving, Green Breeze," Chen Lu said in between great huffing breaths. He let the head of his great mace fall to the earth and leaned on the handle, watching the battle in front of them unfold. "He kills none of them."

  The Master of Sun Valley was a dervish of fists and feet, turning aside blows and striking back with such force Zhihao could hear the pounding of flesh. But none of his attacks were aimed to kill. He still did a far better job of disabling the bandits than Zhihao could have done. Itami, on the other hand, had no such qualms. Every one of her strikes was perfectly measured to kill in a single blow, and she struck men down with staggering ease. Even so, more bandits kept coming, as they left off the looting to join the fight.

  Zhihao caught sight of an archer knocking an arrow to his bow. "See," Zhihao said, slapping Chen Lu on the arm again. "I told you they'd need help."

  "No you didn't."

  Zhihao ignored the fat man, drew his swords, and stepped through the world. The surprise on the archer's face was well worth the effort. Zhihao hooked his sword around the man's neck, dragged him across the dirt and slammed him into the ground. Zhihao left him to bleed out and looked for a new target.

  Across a bridge that spanned the stream, he saw villagers, those who were still alive at least. They were children and elders, a woman who looked to be heavy with child. They were grouped up near a burning house, sitting on the ground while two bandits watched them with naked steel in hand. Even as he watched, one of the bandits hauled a woman to her feet and held a blade to her neck. This was the problem with heroes like Itami and Bingwei Ma, the
y'd lay down arms to save a single innocent life. Zhihao, on the other hand, was well aware that no life was innocent. He preferred to roll the dice and see who survived. And when fighting amateur bandits who barely even knew how to hold a sword, the dice would always favour The Emerald Wind.

  Zhihao stepped through the world and appeared behind the bandit. He hooked one sword around the man's arm and pulled the bandit's sword away from the woman's throat. With his other sword he hooked the man's leg and brought him down face first on the hard-packed dirt. From there it was a simple thing to stamp on the man's neck. The other bandit guarding the villagers went down with similar ease, then Zhihao hung up his swords and watched Itami and Bingwei Ma battle the rest of the bandits. Chen Lu, he noticed, had not joined the fight; he still waited near the long grass. Ein and the leper were with him now, and Zhihao wondered which of them had won the staring contest.

  A few of the villagers offered Zhihao their thanks for rescuing them, but he ignored them, other than pointing out that nothing said grateful quite like a bottle of rice wine. He was sipping from a cup by the time Itami and Bingwei Ma chased off the last of the attackers.

  Itami wiped down her sword and slid it into its saya next to its partner, then bowed low to Bingwei Ma. She hadn't offered that same sign of respect to Zhihao and they had fought together twice now, and he had saved her from Flaming Fist.

  Most of the villagers were busy fetching buckets of water from the stream and throwing them over the burning buildings. Others cried over the dead or tended to the wounded. Zhihao walked away from all the noise and took his bottle of rice wine with him. It tasted foul, but it had the familiar bite to it that promised it would get him drunk no matter how it tasted.

  Chen Lu, Itami, Bingwei Ma, the boy, and the leper gathered in the centre of the village, surrounded by the dead and the wounded. Many of the bandits were still alive but incapacitated by the Master of Sun Valley, and a couple of old timers were moving among them with swords, finishing them off. It was dirty work.

  "Check their pockets before you burn the bodies," Zhihao said. He knelt next to one moaning bandit and started to pull a ring from the man's finger. When he protested Zhihao punched him in the face and pulled the ring off anyway. It was a plain wooden band with a small green gem set in the centre, and it fit quite snugly onto his right index finger.