Quillblade

by Ben Chandler

Missy might just have spat on the man. His gap-filled mouth closed and his squint turned into a glare. ‘We do not speak of it. You’d best be on your way.’ He turned back to his pigs.

  Missy apologised and backed away. She turned to Yami. ‘I guess living this close to the Wastelands really has affected them.’

  Yami folded his arms into his sleeves. ‘They are a good people who perform a stern duty. They must watch for Demons and light the signal when they attack. Then they must wait for the Warlord’s soldiers while the Demons come.’

  Missy closed her eyes, the midday sun suddenly too hot. ‘They must be very brave.’ The swordsman clearly hadn’t been cursed with an abundance of cheerfulness. ‘I guess we should head back to the Hiryû. I think ... wait, do you hear that?’ Missy opened her eyes and looked around the village.

  Yami pushed back his sleeves and reached for the hilt of his sword. ‘What is it?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Missy closed her eyes again and concentrated. ‘It’s almost like there’s a whole bunch of people yelling at one another, but I can’t hear what they’re saying. It’s in a language I don’t understand.’

  Yami’s hand dropped from his sword. ‘I hear nothing. We need to return to the Hiryû. Now!’ He picked Missy up and threw her over his shoulder. She screamed and bit her tongue as Yami broke into a run. Apparently, he wasn’t cursed with good manners either.

  Craning her neck, Missy saw the timber skeleton of the airdock rising above Gesshoku. A clanging rang through the air. Yami stopped.

  ‘What is it?’ Missy mumbled around her swollen tongue.

  Yami pointed and she saw an airship flying up from the south, running under the Shôgo’s banner. Yami started running again. Missy gasped and clung to the swordsman’s arm to steady herself.

  They reached the base of the airdock in time to see Arthur hurrying from the other direction. The rest of the Hiryû’s crew were waiting for them. Yami put her down and Missy hurried over to her brother.

  Arthur shaded his eyes with one hand and looked into the sky. ‘They’ve caught up to us already?’

  Captain Shishi shook his head. ‘It seems unlikely. They aren’t making for Gesshoku.’

  ‘Are you sure? They must have seen the Hiryû by now.’

  Even as Arthur asked, Missy saw the Shôgo airship bypass the village and head out over the Wastelands.

  Missy found her voice. ‘What are they doing?’

  Tenjin, the records keeper, looked up from a tattered parchment. ‘The only thing out there is the remains of a temple dedicated to Seisui.’

  Andrea was loading her crossbow. ‘Seisui?’

  Tenjin rolled the parchment up and placed it inside his robe. ‘The Blue Dragon of the East. She is one of the Shugoryû, the four guardian dragons of Shinzô.’

  Lenis gasped. Missy grabbed his arm, wondering what had caught his attention, but she was distracted again by the garbled shouting she had heard earlier. No one else seemed to have noticed the commotion. Missy looked to Lenis and saw that his face had turned almost white. ‘What is it?’ Lenis shook his head.

  The lookout straightened and hefted her crossbow over one shoulder. ‘If they aren’t landing at Gesshoku, why are the bells still ringing?’

  Captain Shishi was staring towards the western wall. ‘Those are warning bells. They ring when Demons are sighted in the Wastelands.’

  ‘Great.’ Kenji started climbing back up the airdock. ‘Let’s get out of here.’ No one moved. He paused. ‘Captain, don’t you think we should make our escape?’

  ‘And leave the people of Gesshoku to face the Demons alone?’ Shin’s brow was creased in disapproval. ‘Coward! What kind of monster are you? There are children here. We cannot leave.’ She turned to the captain. ‘We have to fight.’

  ‘If you’re finished with your righteous speech, Miss Morality,’ the navigator snapped, dismissing her with a wave of his hand, ‘you might want to consider the fact that if the Demons do attack and the signal fires are lit, very soon this airdock is going to be swarming with military airships. Shôgo airships. The kind of airships we should really try to avoid, unless you want to be dragged back to Itsû to face Lord Shôgo.’

  ‘We’re in Tsuki domain, Mister Navigator,’ Shin retorted. ‘Chances are the Yûgure clan will come before the Warlord’s forces, and they won’t turn us over to the Shôgo.’

  ‘Oh, and you have spoken to Lord Yûgure lately, I suppose. Even if you are right, don’t you think the Warlord might be a bit suspicious that there’s a signal fire burning in Gesshoku when we were last seen heading north? Then there’s that Shôgo airship that just flew by and is heading over to the Wastelands, which is where the Demons are, by the way. Of course he’s going to –’

  ‘Enough, both of you.’ The captain stepped between them. ‘Unless I am mistaken, the Bestia who powers the Hiryû is exhausted. Is that correct, Master Clemens?’ Lenis nodded, still looking pale. ‘Even if we could abandon these people to the Demons, we cannot leave until the Bestia is fully rested. It would do no good to leave now, only to fall out of the sky and be at the Warlord’s mercy. We have some time before the Shôgo forces arrive. We can use that time to help the people of Gesshoku.’

  Kenji shook his head but followed the others as they made their way to the western wall, about five hundred yards from the base of the airdock. Missy’s mouth went dry as she realised there was going to be another fight. A battle far worse than the one with the Shôgo forces because this time they wouldn’t be fighting humans. They’d be facing Demons. Savage, relentless Demons. Threats couldn’t stop a Demon. From the tales Missy had heard, almost nothing could.

  Lenis grabbed Missy’s hand and held her back. ‘Missy, I have to talk to you about something.’

  ‘I know, brother. This will be the first time either of us has ever seen a Demon.’

  Now that it came down to it, Missy’s curiosity about the Wastelands evaporated. She decided she could quite happily live out the rest of her days without ever knowing any more about Wastelands and Demons than she did now.

  ‘No!’

  Missy turned to look into her brother’s eyes. ‘Lenis, what is it?’

  ‘It’s about Seisui.’

  ‘Seisui?’

  ‘The Blue Dragon Tenjin said the temple was dedicated to! I’ve been dreaming about her, I think, only she called herself something else.’

  This was hardly the time to be talking about dreams, but her brother was being so intense. ‘What do you mean?’

  Lenis was still pulling on her arm. ‘Apsilla. She called herself Apsilla, but she was a dragon, and she called herself the Blue Dragon of the East.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘The Blue Dragon of the East, just like Seisui!’

  ‘Lenis, I don’t –’

  ‘It must be her, Missy!’

  Missy pulled her arm out of her brother’s grip. She placed both her hands on Lenis’s shoulders. ‘Calm down, little brother. It was just a dream.’

  ‘I’ve had it more than once.’

  Missy looked over her shoulder and saw that the others were almost at the wall. ‘How often?’

  ‘Every night since we came to Shinzô.’

  Missy took a deep breath and turned back to Lenis. ‘Describe it to me.’

  Lenis told her about the blue light, the dragon’s silhouette, and about how Apsilla had asked Lenis to save her daughter. When he was finished Missy let out a long breath.

  ‘It could be a Bestia calling out to you ... I don’t know, Lenis. Sometimes, when Bestia are far away, they will reach out to a Bestia communicator through dreams, but ... Have you ever had any dreams like this before?’ Lenis shook his head. ‘There’s not much we can do about it now. Let’s catch up with the others. We can ask the captain –’ Lenis went even whiter and Missy hurried on, ‘or Lord Tenjin about it later.’

  Lenis remained silent as Missy led him to the wall. It rose before them, ten feet high, six feet thick, sturdy, stone, but it seemed paltry compared to t
he threat of the Demons. Missy had already decided they would be twenty feet tall and capable of knocking down the village’s defences without any effort.

  As they drew nearer Missy noticed the villagers had come out to join them. They were surprisingly well armed with swords, bows and spears. The weapons had obviously been well maintained, even if the houses of Gesshoku had not, which was mute evidence of the reality of life near the Wastelands.

  They reached the wall and Missy climbed up the thin ladder in front of her. Lenis followed. As her head appeared over the top of the wall the wind pushed back into Missy’s face. It carried with it the sickly-sweet odour of unclean things and made her gag. ‘What is that?’

  Tenjin was leaning on the edge of the wall, looking out over the field below. His breath was shallow, making his words rasp. ‘It is the miasma of the Wastelands. Wrap a scarf around your face so you do not get too much of it into your lungs. It can cause sickness if you are not careful.’

  Missy felt a tug on her sleeve and turned to see Namei offering her a scarf identical to the one around her own neck. The cabin girl showed her how to wrap it around her head to protect her nose and mouth without suffocating herself, before offering another strip of fabric to Lenis.

  ‘Thank you,’ Missy said through the muffling cloth. Namei nodded.

  Lenis, halfway through securing his own scarf, pointed to the horizon. ‘Look!’

  Missy turned towards the west. A wall of fog seemed to be bearing down on them, and beneath it shadows swirled and writhed. She could hear a low growling coming from behind it. Missy shuddered. It was like the commotion she had heard earlier. It had to be the Demons. They were communicating telepathically with one another in a language she could not understand. But if they could talk to one another, then they were more than just the mindless horrors she had heard stories about. They were intelligent.

  Savage, relentless, intelligent Demons. As Missy’s terror grew she felt an answering tingle in the Quillblade, hidden inside her shirt.

  ‘Here they come.’ Captain Shishi drew his sword. The rasp of the metal sent a chill down her spine.

  Lenis struggled to breathe through the strip of cloth Namei had given him to cover his mouth and nose. The scarf wasn’t enough to block out the acrid vapour that rose up from the plain below the walls of Gesshoku. The Demons were close enough now for Lenis to see the red gleam of their eyes and the green-tinged foam that flecked their maws. They came in a surprising range of sizes and shapes, from lumbering bear Demons and sturdy ox Demons, to swift-footed rabbit Demons and winging avian Demons. Not all of them were black either, as the stories Lenis had heard always claimed. Some were an assortment of scabby browns, dirty tans and grey ash. Whatever their colour, their skin peeled in places to reveal raw flesh.

  Bestial cries of rage and despair flowed up to the top of the wall, leaving behind only a lingering sense of sadness that muted Lenis’s fear. The Demons’ communal sorrow rode on the wave of miasma that rolled before them. Lenis could feel it, as surely as he could feel his own Bestia’s emotions, but there was something behind that sorrow, literally behind it, hidden in the Wasteland fog. The rumbling of the Demon charge set the walls of Gesshoku trembling, but behind it all was another rhythm, another beat. It was the steady tramp of feet, not a disorganised Demonic onrush, but a measured and militant marching. These emotions weren’t the simple, instinctual, unfocused passions Lenis sensed in the Demons. They were too complex, too individual, for Lenis to register anything concrete, but whatever was waiting behind the Demonic vanguard, hidden by the foulness of the Wastelands, was a terrible presence full of hunger, a dreadful anticipation and triumph. It was an aura stronger than any Lenis knew.

  ‘Wait for them to come to us,’ Lenis heard Captain Shishi say.

  ‘Such is not the way to glory!’ Yami cried as he leapt to the base of the wall. Everyone stared after him, but his drawn blade shone with a light so bright that Lenis had to shield his eyes.

  The captain swore and raised his own sword above his head. ‘We cannot allow him to fight alone! Go!’ The last command was issued in Shinzôn, but Lenis didn’t need his sister to translate it for him. It was time to fight.

  But he could not.

  The villagers and most of his crewmates were already at the base of the wall. Those who had landed heavily took a moment to recover their balance and then chased after their more agile fellows. Fear, like something that could be caught by the wind, rushed up from both forces to surround Lenis. He reeled.

  ‘Lenis, what is it?’ Missy’s grip on his arm was firm.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’ Namei’s voice was higher, more urgent.

  Tenjin knelt before him. ‘The spirit of the field has overwhelmed him.’ The old man’s face filled his vision and the insistent sense of fear and regret receded as he stared into the lines on Tenjin’s face.

  Behind his shoulder he saw Namei watching him closely. She looked concerned, but he could feel something very close to disdain in her. Did she think he couldn’t handle it? That he was going to faint?

  Lenis focused on Tenjin. ‘We have to stop them. They don’t know! They can’t feel it.’

  Missy pinched his arm. ‘Feel what?’

  ‘Can’t you hear them?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The Demons.’ Lenis forced himself to stand. Over the top of the wall he could see the two forces moving closer to each other.

  Missy frowned. ‘What about them?’

  ‘There’s something behi –’

  Lenis’s words were drowned out as the two forces collided. He looked over the top of the wall. Yami had reached the front rank of the Demon army and had already penetrated deep into their midst, his flashing sword swinging in wide arcs. The Demons fell away, their blood darkening the grass beneath them. The other defenders of Gesshoku tried to keep up with him, but they seemed unable to match his ferocity.

  ‘It’s too late.’ Lenis covered his face with his hands and tried to block out the maelstrom of emotions that rose up from the field. Somewhere behind the battle something much more dangerous was waiting, and he had to try and locate it.

  Just in time, he did.

  ‘Look out!’

  Namei screamed as the Demon emerged from the miasma. ‘What is that?’

  Tenjin stood to look over the parapet. ‘It is an Onishu. Demon Lord.’

  Lenis jumped. He had heard Tenjin clearly. The field below had fallen quiet. The Demons melted away from their Lord, retreating into the Wastelands. The defenders of Gesshoku stood and stared. None of them had seen a Demon like this before. As far as Lenis knew, no one had.

  The Demon Lord towered above the combatants, twice as tall as the walls of Gesshoku. His feet were clawed like a bird’s; he had a serpentine tail and two sets of great bat wings sprouted from his back. His chest and limbs were otherwise like a man’s, but his face was that of a bull and he had a woolly mane. Ram’s horns crowned his temples. His eyes were small blue flames flickering in otherwise empty sockets and his breath, hot and tainted with the stench of the Wastelands, reached the walls. In one hand he carried a tree-length spear.

  Lenis stared. They all did. The Demon Lord stood before them, and Lenis could feel the satisfaction it felt at their reaction.

  The horrible creature shook its mane. ‘I am Shamutar, Lord of Destruction. Submit to me!’

  This was what Lenis had sensed lurking behind the Demon horde.

  The Demon Lord swung his spear down and pointed it at Gesshoku.

  Tenjin had pulled a thick book from somewhere within the folds of his robe and was running a finger down one page. Suddenly he looked up and slammed the book shut. He raised one hand above his head and called out over the battlefield, ‘I summon forth the Guardian Storm!’

  Lenis looked to his sister, who shrugged and pointed back to the Demon Lord. Far above his head, dark clouds had begun to gather out of the otherwise clear sky. Shamutar threw his arms wide and roared into the growing darkness. Great balls of
orange flame erupted from his mouth and flew into the cloudbank. There was a moment when the whole underside of it turned red, and then it darkened again.

  Shamutar folded in on himself and then straightened, howling louder, sending larger, brighter balls of flame into the cloud.

  Tenjin fell back and covered his eyes with his hand for a moment. ‘I am not strong enough.’ His voice was haggard. He opened his eyes and clutched Missy’s arm. ‘But you could do it.’

  Missy tried to pull away, but the old man must have had a strong grip because no matter how she struggled, she couldn’t shake him off.

  ‘Hey!’ Lenis grabbed Tenjin’s arm and tried to prise his grip loose.

  The old man suddenly let go, and Missy fell back against the parapet. ‘Listen to me, both of you! There isn’t much time. The only being powerful enough to defeat a Demon Lord is a Totem. Lord Raikô is our only chance. You must summon him!’

  Lenis looked from Tenjin to Missy. His sister was frowning, but he could tell from the way she had drawn her brows together that she was thinking.

  ‘Lord Raikô?’ she said.

  The fiery glow from the battlefield grew more intense and the cacophony coming from the Demons began to drown out the battle cries of the defenders of Gesshoku. ‘I am too old,’ Tenjin went on. ‘I no longer have the strength, but you could do it, Misericordia Clemens. You have the Quillblade. Lady Iki came to your aid back in Itsû. She recognised your bond with the avian Bestia who serve Lord Raikô. You can use that bond to summon him to fight this Demon Lord.’

  Lenis gasped. What was the old man rambling about? Summon a Totem? Did they even exist? And the Quillblade! Lenis didn’t like that thing one bit. If just holding it had taken Missy’s fear from her, what would using it to summon a creature as powerful as a Demon Lord do to her?

  But Missy nodded. Her frown vanished, replaced by a look of determination Lenis knew was a mirror of his own. ‘All right. What do I have to do?’

  ‘Missy!’

  ‘I can do it, little brother.’

  Tenjin’s relief was palpable. Lenis felt it pushing back the spirit of the battlefield below. ‘Hold the Quillblade aloft and call out to the Lord of Storms. He will come.’