Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

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Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 95

by Hayden, David Alastair


  Hannya started to disagree again, but he stopped her and said, “You know what? I’m sick of arguing with you. You’ve been steeping in bitterness and rage so long that I think you’ve gone half mad. So let’s solve this once and for all. I’m going to let you into my mind. I’m going to give you access to my thoughts, and to my memories. That way you can see who I really am. Go on. Merge your mind with mine. Have a taste of my suffering.”

  The sword hummed for a few moments, and then she said, “You would risk a another direct connection to me?”

  “I’m willing to take that risk, because once you know who I am, we won’t be enemies anymore.”

  Boy, he really hoped he knew what he was doing. He’d barely broken free of the visions she’d imposed on him. If he let her into his mind, and she decided to take over … he’d likely never get her out.

  Turesobei sat down on the slab and, taking his hand off the storm mark on the hilt, placed the blade in his lap. He let go of any sense of command he had over her, took deep breaths, and opened his mind.

  “Enter and see who I really am.”

  Two thin tendrils of shadow emerged from the blade, latched onto his hands, climbed up his arms and neck, and then attached themselves to his temples. Hannya’s consciousness flowed into his mind, probing tentatively. He didn’t even try to keep her out of his most intimate thoughts. It was all or nothing if he wanted this to work.

  His eyes rolled back into his head, and vertigo swamped him. Everything went dark as she raced through his thoughts and memories so fast he couldn’t follow. And then suddenly, she was out, and he had a throbbing headache.

  “You … didn’t … take … long,” he gasped.

  “I didn’t need to know everything about you,” she said. “I don’t care about the spells you studied when you were eight or how you like your tea.”

  “So … did you learn anything … useful? Like maybe … I’m not your enemy?”

  “You are not Naruwakiru reborn,” Hannya replied. “And you are not exactly Chonda Lu, either.”

  “Told you.”

  “You are his Inheritant.”

  His brain started to go a little fuzzy. “I’m his what?”

  “A Kaiaru Inheritant. That means …”

  He slumped back, but kept the sword in his hand, not daring to let go. Not a word of the rest of what she said made it through to him.

  “It is interesting how the magic works on you,” she said.

  “Yeah, fascinating.” He’d caught his breath, the headache had calmed somewhat, and he only now noticed that the shadow tendrils had withdrawn back into Fangthorn. “So, you also learned that I’m a boy who has a girlfriend and two fiancées, one of them dying and the other maddened with dark power … that I love my family, my friends, and my clan, and I’m always throwing myself into terrible situations to sacrifice myself to help them.”

  “I did learn all that … and more.”

  “Great, so I hope you’re finished torturing me, because we can help each other.” He took a deep breath and braced himself. “Once you get me into my world, I will free you.”

  “You must free me when you reach the Nexus, or we do not have a deal.”

  He sighed. One problem at a time. “Fine. We will do it then.”

  “Are you certain you can?”

  He nodded. “I’m going to let you back out of the sword now, freely. Though I’d prefer to face your human form.”

  Turesobei bravely spoke a command. Shadows poured out from the sword and swirled into the form of a slender zaboko woman with night-black skin, prominent cheekbones, a gossamer dress of smoke that hid very little, and the ghost of a ruby kavaru below her navel. The real kavaru was on the pommel of the sword in his hands. Her deep-set eyes, long nails, and sharp teeth were fiery red, and sparkling vermillion hair cascaded wildly down her back.

  Hannya looked at herself and ran her hands along her body. “I have not taken this form in so long I’d nearly forgotten it. Why did you want to face me this way?”

  Because he thought it might make her more human, but he wasn’t about to tell her that. “Because this way we can meet sort of as equals. I cannot face you in my dragon form.”

  “Because you would permanently become the Storm Dragon if you did. You have had the dreams, you have become the dragon, and yet you will not embrace it.”

  “You’ve seen my memories. You must understand why.”

  “I understand why you do not want to lose yourself, yes. But I do not understand why you have not tried to master the Storm Dragon. You do not have to make the dragon form primary. I didn’t do that for centuries.”

  “I haven’t had time.”

  “Time is not your problem. Fear is your problem.”

  “Yeah, I guess.”

  “You fear what you do not understand.”

  “I faced the Storm Dragon in my dreams before I came here.”

  “You may have seen the power, and accepted its presence, but that is not enough. If you understood the Storm Dragon, and I mean truly understood it, in the way you understand that the sky is blue and water is wet and that you are who you are, then you could learn to wield the energy. But perhaps you do not know who you are yet. You are still a child.”

  “I’m not a child. I’m …” Was he really an adult? He should be. For all the responsibilities he bore, he deserved to be. But he also felt like he hadn’t yet become who he was supposed to be. Like he was unfinished … a half-carved statue.

  “The sooner you figure it out,” she said, “the better for you and your companions.”

  “So,” he said, wanting to move on to more urgent things. “I will free you in exchange for you getting me into the Nexus and helping me get back home. Do we have a deal?”

  “We have a deal.”

  “You can return with me to Okoro, if you wish, though I guess we have a Hannya already in my world, bound into the sword.”

  “I do not think it is a good idea to have two identical beings in the same world. I will find another realm, one where another me does not exist. That seems safest.”

  “I will free you once we’re in the Nexus, and I’ll free the version of you in my world from the sword. As soon as I get the chance. I swear.”

  “I would be grateful for that, but you may find it difficult. Amasan and Tepebono placed spells on the island to make it nearly impossible to find, even for one such as you. Those spells are still active in your time.”

  Hannya stared at him with her flaming eyes. “Despite everything I just put you through, you don’t bear the slightest drop of anger toward me. I expected to find it in you, but it was not there.”

  “I’m not happy about it, no. But why would I be angry at you? You lashed out. It’s understandable, given what you endured. I would’ve done the same.”

  “No, Chonda Turesobei, you would not have. And that is why I am trusting you. I will get you into the Nexus.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  Adrenaline depleted, Turesobei slumped down and put his back against the slab. His head was swimming and pounding. The wound on his chest — it was like the flame was still burning. The pain was becoming unbearable. He had nothing left in him. He was never going to make it back up those steps.

  “Perhaps you should heal yourself,” Hannya suggested.

  “I can’t,” he said. “The last traces of the storm energy I summoned have left me. I’m wounded and exhausted, and the Keeper of Scrolls burned me with his stupid magic fire. And you nearly killed me, you know.”

  She knelt beside him. “If you will allow me, then …”

  “You can cast a healing spell?”

  “I am a Kaiaru,” she replied indignantly. “Becoming a dragon doesn’t take that away from you.”

  “When did you last use a spell?”

  “Ages ago. The binding prevented me from casting. But I assure you I know how. Kaiaru have nearly perfect memory. All you have to do is give me permission.”

  “I’d rather not have a
healing spell go bad on me.”

  “As you wish,” Hannya replied. “If you prefer, you could draw energy from me, using the blade, and then do the spell yourself. You could substitute my power for your internal kenja to trigger the spell.”

  Turesobei swooned, his eyes fluttering.

  “If you can manage not to collapse before then …”

  Turesobei gripped the hilt. “I can. I’ve done it before using the Mark of the Storm Dragon.”

  Nodding, he gripped the blade by the hilt and opened a channel, tapping the power within the blade to supplant his own internal kenja. Hannya was strong, and her kenja was a roiling mix of earth, shadow, and fire kenja. Her power emanated from the depths of the earth, so that made sense. For a moment, he feared he would become like her, but of course that wouldn’t happen. She was right: he was scared of the dragon.

  Along with raw power, darkness and rage flowed into him. To cast a healing spell, he needed calm, positive energy. This wouldn’t do. A voice pressed against his mind. He allowed her to speak to him telepathically.

  “I am not merely anger,” Hannya whispered into his mind. “You must draw on something else. You know that I am more than that. Remember the cold emptiness I felt? That is the place of my calm, in the darkest cavern where all is quiet and empty, deep within the earth.”

  Turesobei released the anger and thought of the dark emptiness Hannya had always retreated to in the deep caves whenever she felt alone and rejected. Then a strange calm flowed into him, bringing a different character of kenja. It was warm, but not inviting. It wasn’t ideal, not for him, but he could work with it. He could have done the spell of summer healing for a change, too, but because of the burn on his chest he decided to stick with the spell of winter healing.

  He cast the spell. The searing mark the Keeper of Scrolls had burned onto his chest remained unchanged. And it still burned like a thousand beestings. But the pain it had caused beyond the burn mark faded. His headache and dizziness went away, and some strength returned to him — enough for him to get by.

  “Thank you, Lady Hannya. Now, are you ready to face the world again?”

  “I am.”

  “And the Nexus … and the Blood King?”

  She stared into his eyes. It was hard to meet them they were so intense, but he did. Just like with a cat, he didn’t want to look away and let her think she was dominant over him.

  “I am ready for that, too. I put him there. I can handle it.”

  “Good, now we just need to reach the Nexus. And to do that, I need to figure out a way to get out of the Forbidden Library without having to fight the eighty yomon waiting for me outside. I feel certain the Keepers won’t help me escape them.”

  “It is not in their nature to do anything more than what is foretold,” Hannya replied. “The eirsenda are alien to even the Kaiaru. And these last of the eirsenda with their mission of destiny … they are fanatics. And like me, they have probably lived far too long. But do not worry about bypassing the yomon. I can get you out of here using powers unique to me. I can take you through the Shadowland.”

  “I am not taking my physical body through the Shadowland, nor the bodies of my companions.”

  “It is the only way,” she replied. “I can guide you. I can safeguard you. You need only do it long enough to get past the yomon. Then you can try to outrace them.”

  “How long can we travel safely through the Shadowland?” Turesobei asked. “Maximum safety.”

  “I can get you two leagues from here. That should be far enough that you will be out of their sight, if you are careful.”

  “But Awasa, the one you met in the Shadowland, she can track me now. She will know we are leaving.”

  “Though young, you have already led an interesting life, Chonda Turesobei. And I do not envy you being in love with three women, two of them dangerous.”

  Turesobei shook his head. “I care about all of them, deeply. I do. But I only love Iniru.”

  “If that is what you would like to tell yourself, then by all means do so. But what do I know? I have only lived for twenty thousand years.” Hannya chuckled. “Now, if you wish to escape Ninefold Awasa’s notice as we travel through the Shadowland, I suggest the ritual of the simulacrum.”

  “That’s a great idea.”

  The ritual would form a mirror for his energy signature, and he could leave that mirror behind in the Forbidden Library. Awasa would think that he was still in the library. The ritual was difficult, but if he maintained it long enough, he could get a good lead on her and the yomon.

  “Can you give me the strength I need to do the ritual and maintain it from the Shadowland?”

  “I can help you some, but it will take most of my energy to get you through the Shadowland with your companions and mounts. We dragons may be godlike, with power to rival a half-dozen Kaiaru combined, but we are not limitless deities — especially when we are old and no longer feared.”

  Turesobei nodded in understanding. “Now I just have one final problem: Lu Bei.”

  “Rescuing your fetch won’t be difficult, as long as you can manipulate Ooloolarra properly and get the timing right.”

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  Turesobei threw open the door and strolled defiantly back into the Forbidden Library, Fangthorn in hand. “It’s done.”

  Lu Bei pumped his fists and spiraled up through the air. “Master, you did it!”

  The rest of his companions were waiting with smiles of relief, and stepped toward him. They didn’t seem nearly as relieved as he had expected. Turesobei eyed Lu Bei and chuckled.

  “You all knew I was okay before I got back up here, didn’t you?”

  Lu Bei chewed on his lip and looked away. “I might have kept them informed, master.”

  “Well, I didn’t tell you not to.”

  Enashoma took his hand. “We were so worried. Lu Bei kept us updated as best as he could, until the shadow engulfed you. Then we didn’t know what was happening for a long time. Lu Bei couldn’t tell. And then Lu Bei became a little dragon, and thunder shook the entire library. The Keepers didn’t like that much and —”

  “Take a breath,” he said. “Relax. I’m all right.”

  “Of course you are,” she said, seriously. “I never doubted.”

  He grinned. “Liar.”

  Iniru gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I really didn’t think you’d make it back from being a dragon.”

  “Did Lu Bei tell you how I did it?”

  “I did, master. I did. And I told them all about your deal with Lady Hannya.”

  “Good, because I don’t want to have to explain it all right now.”

  Zaiporo patted him on the back and congratulated him, as did Narbenu and Kemsu. Motekeru gave him a single, declarative nod. Turesobei looked to Kurine, lying there peacefully in stasis. He wished he could share his success with her, too. A motion caught his eye. High above, Ooloolarra was leaning over a gallery rail. He met her eyes, and she bowed to him.

  “So you have succeeded,” said the Keeper of Scrolls, stating the obvious. “Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  The Keeper reached out and touched the burned spot on Turesobei’s chest. The wound faded away, along with the pain it caused, leaving no sign that it had been there at all. Turesobei sighed with relief. He wasn’t sure how he had blocked it out for so long. Maybe he was getting used to pain.

  “You must leave no later than two hours after dawn tomorrow,” the Keeper of Scrolls said, turning away.

  “Wait a second!” Turesobei said. “I could use some rest. A few days at least.”

  “You and your companions have already rested here, and you obviously healed yourself down in the stacks. It is time for you to go. You have what you came here for.”

  Turesobei stepped deliberately in front of the Keeper of Scrolls to block his way. The Keeper scowled at him.

  Turesobei clutched Fangthorn tight. “You could have warned us of that beforehand. This is unacceptable.
I demand you let us stay another day.”

  “You demand?” the Keeper of Scrolls said. “Do you really wish to demand anything of me?”

  Turesobei sighed with frustration. “I’m not trying to insult you. I’m just asking for a little more time.”

  “Our rules are our rules. You were granted a tremendous boon in being allowed to stay here at all. You should feel honored. And you are getting to stay one more night. I think that is exceedingly generous. Too generous, in my opinion.”

  “Please, at least let my two goronku companions stay after we leave. Just until the yomon pursue the rest of us. Then they can go back to their people.”

  “No, I allowed them inside only because they accompanied you. The goronku must leave with you tomorrow morning, or their lives are forfeit.”

  “I’m sorry,” Turesobei said to Narbenu and Kemsu. “But maybe we could buy you passage on a ship leaving the port.”

  “No ships are here right now,” said the Keeper of Scrolls. The next one won’t arrive for two weeks. And they cannot wait in the village.”

  “Why?” Turesobei demanded.

  “Because they cannot!” the Keeper of Scrolls almost shouted.

  Turesobei turned to Narbenu and Kemsu and shrugged helplessly. “Sorry.”

  Kemsu glanced furtively at Iniru. “I’m enjoying the adventure. I’d like to continue on.”

  “We agreed to see you on your way,” Narbenu said, “and that’s what we’ll keep on doing. You may still need our help.”

  “I was really hoping they’d let you stay, though. That way I’d know for certain you could make it back to your people … alive.”

  “There’s no guarantee in that,” Narbenu replied. “You saw how dangerous it was for all of us to get here.”

  “You realize, though,” said Iniru, “that seeing us to the end could mean leaving your world and coming to ours.”

  “Sounds exciting,” Kemsu replied.

  Iniru rubbed the grayish fur on his shoulder. “You might be a bit overdressed.”

  Narbenu sighed. “I’d miss my home, but how many people get to go to another world, especially one that’s better than this one?”

 

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