Never Die

by Rob J. Hayes

  "Your rebellion is dead," the emperor said. His voice was deep, it carried well and echoed around the empty chamber. Then he turned and glared at Cho. She wagered he had expected the Steel Prince rather than a woman and small boy. "It can't be. You're dead! I killed you with my own hands."

  Ein took a lurching step forward. "Yes, father, you did. You killed me."

  The emperor shook his head. "You've been dead twenty years, Einrich. It can't be you." Ein took another step forward and his father staggered back a step. Cho followed Ein slowly, her hand on Peace.

  "It is me, father. You sacrificed me to the shinigami. You wrapped your hands around my throat and squeezed the life from my body. I still bear the wounds of it." He pulled the red scarf from around his neck and let it fall, once more revealing the horrible bruising there. He was shaking, whether from rage or exhaustion, or something else Cho couldn't tell. "You have grown powerful on the strength gifted to you. The shinigami has given you immortality and techniques beyond mortal men." Another step. "And what have you done with it? You conquered Hosa and squeezed it dry of wealth and prosperity. You have neglected its people. You care only about your own power. And now the shinigami has sent me to take that power back, father."

  The Emperor of Ten Kings rushed to his throne and plucked his sword from its resting place, drawing it and throwing the scabbard to the side. "What have I done with it?" he shouted at Ein. "In the twenty years you have been dead, I have united Hosa. I have brought peace to ten kingdoms who have only ever known war. The cost has been great, but Hosa is stronger now than it has ever been. What have I done with the power gifted to me, Einrich? I have created a legacy. But I will admit the cost was high. Perhaps too high."

  Ein took another step forward. "The cost, father, was me!"

  The emperor's eyes flicked to the shrine beside the door and then back to his son. "And now the shinigami has sent you to destroy everything I've built? The ghost of my own son?"

  Ein shook his head. "Not everything you've built, father. Just you. The shinigami just wants you."

  The Emperor of Ten Kings hardened then, his face going still as stone. He stepped away from the throne and held his sword up before him. "He cannot have me. You cannot have me, Einrich. I will kill you a second time if I have to."

  Cho rushed forward, stepping in front of Ein, Peace held up before her in two hands.

  The emperor glared at her. "Who are you?"

  "My name is Itami Cho, Whispering Blade. If you mean to fight, I will be your son's champion."

  A bitter laugh erupted from the emperor. "I am beset by ghosts. You brought one of your dead heroes back to life to kill me, son?" He shook his head sadly. "Come then, Whispering Blade. Let me send you back to your grave where you belong."

  Cho edged forward, her sandaled feet gliding over the polished wood floor. The emperor moved to meet her, waving the tip of his sword in little circles in the space between them. Cho saw Ein limp backward, settling down at the foot of the shinigami shrine. That was good. She would need space to fight. The emperor held himself well, straight and still, his eyes a piercing darkness locked on Cho. Slowly they circled each other, neither wanting to make the first move. Cho considered a hundred different attacks, analysing which might gain her the best advantage. She changed stance, holding Peace up close to her head, the cutting edge facing upwards. The emperor responded by shifting his right foot forward, turning his body side on. Cho drew in a deep breath, and charged.

  They clashed with a howl of sword scraping against sword, then pushed apart from each other. They had swapped places, and once again started circling each other. Cho could already tell the emperor was stronger than her, at least in the terms of raw power. Cho switched her stance, holding Peace behind her, and closed again. She let loose a sweeping, rising strike. The emperor parried the blade and replied with a thrust. Cho dodged to her right and brought Peace down crossways. The emperor blocked the slash, using his strength to hold it with one hand and moving in close to punch at Cho with the other. She leapt away, rushing backwards on swift feet.

  Cho was smiling, unable to keep the joy from her face. This was where her heart belonged - however much was left of it - in battle. The moments lived between blades were the sweetest of life. In combat every decision mattered, large or small. A slight turn of a foot and she could trip. A sweaty palm and the blade could slip. Feinting left instead of right could spell the end. It was in those moments, where everything mattered and every decision pushed towards life or death, that Cho felt most alive.

  They came together again and again, clashing in a glorious dance of waiting death. Two partners meeting in singing blades and hard-earned skill. Again and again Peace tasted the emperor's sword, and again and again it was turned aside. Cho even set it humming with a whisper, but the emperor's blade did not so much as chip. When they pushed apart the next time Cho felt sweat on her forehead and the air in her lungs. Still the Emperor of Ten Kings stood tall, not even a little colour in his cheeks.

  "I know your technique, Whispering Blade." The emperor didn't relax as he spoke; he kept his guard ready. "I used to read to Einrich when he was a child. Does he still carry it around with him? That book about all his dead heroes."

  Something tugged at Cho's mind, something she couldn't entirely grasp. She remembered the emperor saying Ein had died twenty years ago. If he carried a book about dead heroes, and she was in it… How long ago had she died?

  The emperor sensed her confusion and lunged in. Cho caught the attack on Peace and the sword sang in her hands, the pain of it travelling up her arms. She darted inside his guard and shoved her shoulder into his chest, but it was like running into a wall. The emperor barely budged, then braced his feet and threw Cho backwards. She rolled across the polished floor and up into a warrior's crouch, Peace held out to the side, ready to rejoin the fight.

  "You fight for the shinigami because you have no choice. I understand that." The emperor paced forwards, slashing twice and following up with a stab. Cho danced away from each strike, watching for an opening, but the man wasn't just fast, he was skilled as well. Perhaps even her equal. "I will send you back to your grave, Whispering Blade. I will give you back the peace my son has stolen from you."

  Cho darted in again, opening with a wide slashing arc, then circling her sword around to cut across the emperor's legs. Again he blocked the strikes with ease. It seemed he was growing stronger with every passing moment, and he pushed her back with a flurry of crushing blows. Cho understood then how the man had united Hosa. He was a monster, as strong as Chen Lu and as skilled as Bingwei Ma. Not even the Century Blade had turned her aside so easily. But Cho was not without some tricks of her own, and at least one of those would be in no books written about her. She staggered back a few steps, putting some distance between them and raised Peace in front of her. And she screamed.

  Peace caught the force of her scream and turned it into a cutting edge. It ripped through the throne room, splitting the wood of the floor and ceiling alike. The Emperor of Ten Kings raised his sword just in time and caught the blast on his blade. For just a moment, Cho could see her own scream as energy pushing down on the emperor, trying to force its way past his sword. Then the man flung it aside just like he was parrying a strike. The scream continued on its path, tearing past the wooden throne and smashing the balcony beyond it. The sound of large sections of wood crashing into the outside of the palace echoed around them.

  The emperor was shaking, his eyes wide and a touch of fear in them. Slowly, he turned to look over his shoulder, to see the destruction Cho's scream had made of his throne room. Perhaps he only meant to glance, but he hesitated a moment and it was all the opening Cho needed. She charged him, launching into a sprint on silent feet. The Emperor of Ten Kings turned back just in time to see Cho coming. She sank Peace deep into his chest.

  For a moment, everything was still. Cho was so close she could feel the heat of the emperor's body and smell the sweat on his skin. Then he coughed, blood
spraying out of his mouth and running down his chin. He had swayed a little at the last moment and her strike missed his heart, piercing his lungs instead. Either way, it was a killing blow. Behind her, Ein gasped, just as the emperor reached up and grabbed Cho's hand.

  Chapter 40

  One after another, Daiyu's stone statues fell to the soldiers of Wu; hacked apart to lifeless rock. Each loss seemed to take its toll on the Art of War, and Zhihao could see her reeling in pain. Not that he had a lot of time to watch her, he was busy leading the Steel Prince's men in their bid to safety. The great golem had scattered the Wu forces behind the rebel army and the soldiers of the rebellion were pouring back out into the outer city. Formations were long gone and most were simply fleeing for their lives through streets and alleys blackened by fire. The golem turned back towards the gate, Daiyu still riding on its shoulder. She held the gate while the last of the rebellion escaped.

  Zhihao stepped through the world and appeared behind a Wu soldier as he was about to stab a man through the chest. One titanic swing of the Steel Prince's sword, and the soldier went down in two pieces and gush of blood. Zhihao reeled from the effort of overusing his technique. He staggered two steps and dropped to his knees in the dust next to the body. Another Wu soldier seemed to come out of nowhere, or perhaps Zhihao's tunnel vision had simply hidden the man. The Wu soldier had him cornered, and Zhihao watched his death come towards him. The Wu soldier screamed, spittle flying from his moustached mouth, his teeth yellow and his eyes black and furious. The morning light glinted off the sword as it reached the height of its arc and fell towards Zhihao.

  The sword crashed into the Steel Prince's helm, and Zhihao sprawled on the ground, his ears ringing like a bell and his head feeling like the soiled end of a weeklong drunk. He crawled away, hand over hand, both cursing and thanking the sturdiness of the helm. A kick rolled Zhihao onto his back and he looked up to see the Wu soldier standing over him, sword raised again, but then a spear poked through the man's neck. He gurgled on blood and then collapsed onto his knees and finally backwards. Dead. The rebellion soldier, the very one Zhihao had just saved, reached down a hand and helped pull Zhihao back to his feet. He squinted at the man, trying to wince away the pain in his head.

  "My prince? Your scars are fading."

  The words penetrated the haze around Zhihao just enough for him to realise his helm was gone and his face exposed. He clasped the soldier on the arm and pointed towards the city. "Go. Run. Get out of here." He supposed it would be wiser, safer to kill the man, to protect the truth about the Steel Prince. But Zhihao couldn't do it, not to someone who had just saved his life. The soldier hurried away, glancing backwards a few times.

  Zhihao looked back towards the gate. Daiyu's golem had done a good job of holding up the Wu soldiers, and the rebellion was all but fled into the city. As he watched, the golem drove its massive sword into the ground, blocking the way through the gate. Then it turned and charged away after the fleeing rebellion soldiers. It was a good deterrent, and it would certainly delay the men of Wu chasing them, but Zhihao knew a way to make it even better. He stepped through the world and reappeared on top of the wall, staring down into the inner city and the army amassed before the wall.

  "Soldiers of Wu," Zhihao shouted, trying desperately to ignore the twisting of his vision as a wave of vertigo swept over him. "My name is Guang Qing, the Steel Prince." He saw a couple of archers knock arrows and decided it might be best to plough on quickly. "Your emperor is dead. There is no reason to continue this fight. There is no one to fight for. Now Hosa can start—" One of the archers loosed an arrow and Zhihao dove away. "Fuck you then!" He scrambled back to his feet, turned away from the city of Jieshu, and stepped through the world, reappearing a moment later on Daiyu's lumbering golem.

  The pain hit him like a sword in the chest. An agony so intense it blasted the strength from his limbs. Zhihao sprawled on the golem's shoulder, desperately trying to cling to the black rock of its helm, and feeling his grip slipping away.

  "My prince, are you hurt?" Daiyu's voice, panicked and also distant.

  The pain sunk deeper, piercing its way towards Zhihao's heart. In that moment, Zhihao realised what it was. The archers hadn't hit him with a lucky shot; it was the fatal wound the Century Blade had dealt him opening back up. In the far distance, Zhihao saw the palace of Wu rising up beyond the city. It was getting farther away. Ein was getting farther away. He needed to step through the world again, to go back. But he had not the strength left.

  "No," Zhihao wheezed. "I've come too far." He felt his heart stop and his grip slip. For just a moment, Zhihao knew he was falling. Then he was gone.

  Chapter 41

  The Emperor of Ten Kings wheezed in a wet breath and coughed up more blood, but he didn't fall. Instead he gripped hold of Cho's left hand, crushing it into the hilt of Peace. She tried to scream but no sound made it past the pain. Slowly the emperor pushed away from his body, drawing Peace out of his chest inch by inch until the blade cleared his flesh. And still he held onto Cho's hand, lifting it up above her head. She felt her feet lift off the floor and her fingers snapped as the emperor held her up, still crushing her hand into the hilt of her own sword.

  The Emperor of Ten Kings whipped his sword up and agony blasted all thought away. Cho collapsed onto the floor of the throne room, still gasping and unable to scream. The emperor stood there, holding her left arm severed above the elbow, Peace still locked in the grip of her mangled hand. She was bleeding. Crimson leaking out of the stump that had once been her arm, soaking into her clothes. Cho pushed away on slippery feet, struggling to put some distance between them. But she knew it was pointless. She was beaten. The Emperor of Ten Kings had won, and she was already dead, only her body hadn't realised it yet.

  There was a sound like a crack of thunder and something hit the emperor. He pitched forward, dropping Cho's severed arm and sprawling on the wooden floor. Cho kept pushing herself backward with her feet, her arse slipping across the polished wooden floor. Then Ein was beside her, gripping hold of what was left of her arm and the numbness that spread out from that touch let her think once more. Her left arm was gone, just bloody flesh dripping from above the elbow. Her vision dimmed, suppressed pain and loss of blood, but Cho clung to what little scraps of sanity she had left.

  "I can't heal this," Ein said, his voice panicked. "I can't."

  Cho struggled to her knees and fumbled at the binding around her second sword, her right hand feeling clumsy. "Ein, help me free my sword."

  The boy shook his head. "You can't. You swore an oath never to draw it and release the evil within."

  Cho turned to look at Ein and noticed his pale eyes full of fear. "And in my life I kept that oath. But I'm not alive, am I? You didn't bring me back. You didn't bring any of us back."

  The fear drained from Ein's eyes, his face went almost slack. Slowly, so slowly, he shook his head. "No. You are yokai. Vengeful spirits I raised to help me."

  It should have been a shock, but Cho had already guessed it. She wondered how long she had been dead, and whether or not she was even truly herself, or just some demon wrapped up in Itami Cho's memories. In the end it didn't really matter. Whether she was actually Whispering Blade, or just some vengeful spirit, she would do as any Shintei would. She would keep her oath.

  "In life I kept my oath never to draw this sword. But in death I choose to keep a different one."

  Ein nodded, his hands fumbling in his little pack. He pulled out his scissors and snipped away at the leather thong that held Cho's second sword tight in its saya.

  Cho was shaking, weak and exhausted, and dying. She could still feel her left arm, strange considering she could see it lying lifeless on the floor across the room. The Emperor of Ten Kings stood and poked his finger into a new hole in his chest, digging around inside his own body until he pulled out a metal bullet. Cho hoped Roi Astara was watching. She hoped he could see what his distraction had bought them all.

  Cho shoved E
in away, knocking him on his arse. The pain surged back in, threatening to sweep away her last vestiges of consciousness, but she held on and struggled back to her feet. She was dizzy from blood loss as well as everything she had given to the fight, but Cho steadied herself and took a wide stance. Her right hand found the hilt of her second sword and she crouched, ready to draw. The Emperor of Ten Kings considered the bullet for a moment longer, then threw it aside and snatched his own sword from the floor. The bullet wound was already healing, flesh knitting itself closed.

  "Enough. I will kill you both for a second time, and this time neither of you will come back." He charged then, sword in both hands

  Whispering Blade stepped into the emperor's strike and unleashed War.

  The blade slipped free of its saya and with it came all the souls Cho had killed since Ein brought her back. White light flowed into the throne room as the human souls, those of Flaming Fist's men, the bandits, and even the Wu soldiers, burst forth. They struck the emperor like a hammer blow stopping his charge. Next came the lesser yokai; the jikininki, the inugami, the kiyohime, and all the others. They swept out of the black sword, a tide of blue pulsing light that wrapped around the emperor, digging into his flesh and tearing open wounds. Cho heard the emperor scream and her own voice joined his, the pain of her injuries the only thing still anchoring her to the world. A bright emerald light burst from the sword as the mizuchi broke free of its steel prison. It rushed through the emperor and sapped his qi, weakening him. Without his qi, his wounds no longer healed. His screams stopped then and Cho could see the man's eyes roll back in his head. But his agony wasn't done. His body still clung to life.