The Blood King’s Apprentice

by David Alastair Hayden

  Turesobei choked down a retort.

  * * *

  Watching Enashoma experience thirty minutes of torture was as bad as directly suffering; worse, since she only suffered because of his failure. Turesobei would rather have experienced it in her stead. But that was probably what Gyoroe wanted.

  “Try not to fail again,” Enashoma whispered through sobs.

  He ran his hand along her head and kissed her brow. “I promise we won’t.”

  “Let us find out,” Gyoroe said.

  He spoke a word of power and their test began again….

  * * *

  During their second attempt, Iniru lost a hand fighting the ant-demons and Evil Awasa ran Kurine through, killing her. However, they did win and Enashoma didn’t get tortured.

  “I want to do it again,” Turesobei said.

  “Why?” Gyoroe asked.

  “I want to get through it without losing anyone.”

  “What does it matter?”

  Turesobei gritted his teeth and swallowed his real reason. The fact that he cared about his friends and couldn't stand the thought of any of them dying wouldn't convince the Blood King. “My best chance at making it through all eight realms is to have a complete team. If I lose a member during each mission then my chances of succeeding in the end will be poor, don’t you think?”

  Gyoroe’s eyes turned emerald and Turesobei repressed a mutter of thanks. “I must say, you have gotten better at thinking things through rationally. When you first came here, your every response was rooted in emotion. It is good to see cold logic taking root.”

  Turesobei simply nodded.

  * * *

  Over the next three days, they fought simulated battle after simulated battle, facing all sorts of demonic beasts in a variety of elements. They were allowed twenty minutes to rest between each attempt and they spent most of that time discussing how each battle had gone while sampling Lu Bei’s latest brews. They didn’t eat and they didn’t sleep. After fifty attempts, Turesobei lost count.

  Gyoroe tortured Enashoma three more times. They lost a member of the group ten times. And twice, everyone but Turesobei and Iniru died. But they did improve as they went and their confidence grew.

  Finally, after a battle where Turesobei purposefully didn’t jump in front of a snake-demon to save Iniru’s life, as much as it pained him, Gyoroe pronounced them ready.

  “You cannot learn anything else by fighting conjured monsters. You can only learn by facing real threats in the real world.”

  “Thank the gods,” Enashoma muttered. But Turesobei knew as soon as they stepped onto the gate platform to leave, she would prefer it if they were still facing illusory opponents, despite the risk to herself.

  “Never let anyone treat you like a child or a human, Chonda Turesobei,” the emerald-eyed Gyoroe said. “You accomplished in nearly four months what I thought would take you at least two years. You are more than a mere man, and you are a force to be reckoned with.”

  “Thank you, Lord Gyoroe,” Turesobei said, sincerely.

  “Tomorrow night, I will hold a feast in honor of your achievements. There, Hannya will brief you on what you will face in the realms. I think it would be best if you heard about the guardians directly from her. Until then, rest. You have earned it.”

  Chapter Sixty-Eight

  It was night when they walked out of the Canvas, numb from the almost nonstop combat of the last three days. They shuffled into the Dining Hall and dug in as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. They didn’t talk much, and no one laughed or even cracked a smile. Lu Bei’s attempts to bring them back to themselves fell completely flat.

  Kurine would look at Iniru, start to say something and then frown. Iniru would notice, chew at her lip and look away. A tentative awkwardness had replaced the anger that usually swirled between them like a storm cloud.

  Enashoma barely spoke. The four torture sessions weighed heavily on her. She seemed haunted.

  Zaiporo sometimes stopped mid-bite and drew on the table with his finger, no doubt thinking about combat scenarios. Zaiporo had the makings of a fine officer, now that he was getting the chance to develop the skills for it.

  Awasa ate quietly and deliberately, seeming to contemplate each bite of food. It was good to see her in a peaceful mood after all the battles. Maintaining her cool couldn’t have been easy for her.

  Enashoma, Kurine, Iniru and Zaiporo finished their blackberries and cream, then left.

  Awasa hesitated. “You okay, Sobei?”

  “What?”

  “You haven’t even touched your dessert.”

  He glanced down at the bowl. “Oh. I was just lost in thought.”

  “If you need to talk….”

  He shook his head. “I’m fine. As good as can be expected, anyway.”

  She nodded with a half smile. “If you need me, don’t hesitate to drop by my room.”

  “Thanks, Wasa.”

  With only Lu Bei for company, Turesobei finished his dessert and downed his tea.

  “Perhaps a little fresh air, master?”

  “Good idea.”

  He strolled through the Courtyard, not even paying attention to where he was going. Lu Bei swooped lazily along beside him. Worries ran amok through Turesobei’s mind. In two days, the missions to the realms would begin. Given that the guardians were intended to stop powerful wizards and Kaiaru, it was unlikely all his companions would survive through all eight realms to reach the end. There was only so much he could do to protect them, even with Motekeru and the Storm Dragon helping. And if they did succeed, there was the bigger issue: he couldn’t actually let Gyoroe get all the heart stones. Sometime between now and then, he had to find a way for them all to escape…only he had no idea what that might be.

  Was this what soldiers felt before going into a battle, wondering whether they’d make it through, and if they did, would their comrades? And what if they failed? What would become of their families and clan? He’d never considered the realities of war before. Perhaps he should have, since war with the Gawo Clan was inevitable and, as his clan’s high wizard, he knew he’d have to fight.

  As he neared the far corner of the Courtyard, voices rose above the splashing of a fountain, the chirping of crickets and the croaking of frogs.

  Lu Bei was singing an old love song. Turesobei shushed him.

  “How rude!”

  “Hush! Someone’s talking. I’m trying to hear who.”

  Lu Bei’s ears perked up. “Kurine and Iniru.”

  “Are they arguing?”

  “Doesn’t sound like it to me, master.”

  Turesobei crept along the path until he spotted both girls beneath a sycamore near the smallest waterfall. Judging by their relaxed postures, they didn’t appear to be arguing. But it was difficult to tell for sure in the dark.

  Obviously they wanted privacy. He should leave so they could talk in peace.

  “Want me to go spy on them, master?” Lu Bei whispered.

  Turesobei shook his head. “No….” He hesitated then sighed, disgusted with himself. “I’ll do it myself.”

  He darted into the shadows and cast the spell of the silent footfall to create a dampening effect on any sound made near him. Then he cast the spell of night’s dark shroud which would help him blend seamlessly into the shadows. Despite his eagerness to hear what they were saying, he paced himself and crept carefully. The silence spell didn’t block out all sound, and with Kurine’s excellent hearing and Iniru’s almost godlike senses, he had to be careful.

  He crouched under a willow between the waterfall and the bridge that crossed the stream. He was close enough to see their faces in the moonlight and could hear them well enough. The drooping limbs should break up his image nicely, adding to the shroud spell’s effectiveness.

  “So we agree? No more fighting and bickering?” Kurine asked.

  Iniru nodded. “It has to stop. And not just for Turesobei’s sake.”

  They stood together awkwardly for a few momen
ts then Kurine asked, “So what now?”

  “Do we want to try to share him?”

  “We’ll have to do a much better job of it than we did before.”

  Iniru shook her head. “We were splitting him, not sharing. My people have very complicated marital relationships. Trust me, there’s a difference. For this to work, we have to willingly share him with each other.”

  “How do we do that?”

  “It might help if we got to know one another better,” Iniru said.

  “You mean be friends?”

  “I’d like that,” Iniru shrugged, “but I know you don’t trust me.”

  “I do now,” Kurine said. “You gave your life to save mine.”

  “Seriously? It wasn't even a real battle.”

  “You didn't know that when you threw yourself on that sword. I thought she was going to kill me, and so did you. That's real enough.” Kurine hunched her shoulders and kicked at the ground. “In my world, just surviving is a struggle. Anyone who would dedicate themselves to something other than keeping themselves and the people they love alive is…. Well, you'd have to crazy to be an assassin in the Ancient Cold and Deep. I thought you were an unfeeling killer, like a reitsu, and that if I showed Sobei how warm and caring a real woman could be, that he’d forget all about you. Sorry.”

  Iniru sighed. “No, I get it. Even in our Okoro, some people see the qengai that way. And it's not like I tried to change your opinion of me. I don't normally go out of my way to be friendly, even to people who don't want to marry my boyfriend.”

  Kurine laughed. Then she cringed. “I had no idea what a mess I was creating when I proposed to him. I didn't really expect him to accept.”

  “If you had known, if you could go back and do it all differently, would you still have tricked him into being your fiancée?”

  “I never tricked him! Not on purpose anyway. But …” She paused and chewed her lip thoughtfully. “Yeah, I might have gone about it differently if I’d known. Maybe if you and I had gotten to be friends first, this wouldn't have been such a disaster. But I’m glad I proposed and I'm glad he accepted. I've seen and done things that no other goronku has experienced. Sobei is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

  “Wow. I hate it when you say stuff like that. It makes me see why he loves you.”

  Kurine snorted. “You can't tell me you wish you’d never met him, that he's not worth it. Turesobei’s heart has always belonged to you. That's why I never gave you a chance to be nice to me. I couldn't afford to. Because anyone who he loves, as much as he loves you, has to be special. And there’s no way I can compete with that.”

  “Oh, you’re plenty of competition,” Iniru said. “I think he actually is in love with us both.”

  “Is that even possible?”

  “Of course it is. You know, among my people, sharing is common,” Iniru said. “A man might have multiple wives, a woman multiple husbands. A woman can even have wives and a husband husbands.”

  “Turesobei told me your people did things differently. But when I asked him to explain it all, he couldn’t.”

  Iniru rolled her eyes. “We love an idiot. You realize that, right?”

  “I’d like to think he’s dense because there’s all that magic lore stuffed in his head.”

  “Why not?” Iniru asked. “There’s got to be some reason for it other than just being a boy. They can't all be that stupid.”

  Turesobei huffed. He was glad to know the girls who loved him thought so highly of him. Though admittedly, he still didn’t understand the k’chasan relationship structures.

  “So how does is it work?” Kurine asked.

  “The short version is there are two types of bonds: siwei and siwo, a bond of pairing or mating, and a bond of friendship.”

  “You need a special bond to say you’re friends with someone?”

  “Siwo is more than normal friendship, like the kind Enashoma and I have. It signifies a bond of friendship as deep as marriage, only there’s no romantic component and rarely any physical…interaction. You announce it with a ritual and you each wear a matching triangular earring on the right ear. The siwei relationship, on the other hand, is just like the marriages you have among your people, except we allow for multiple spouses. But since relationships are intimate, everyone has to agree to any and all bonds. Otherwise, it doesn’t work.”

  “Wow. That all seems complicated.”

  “There’s actually a lot more to it than that, with all sorts of complex combinations.”

  “I don’t see how it could ever work,” Kurine said. “Too many weavers at the loom….”

  “It has worked for the k'chasa for thousands of years. Of course, we mostly have single pair bonds, with a traditional husband and a wife. And they might have one or more bonded friendships each. Sometimes there’s a second pair bond. But it’s not frowned on. It’s celebrated. Such an abundance of love and trust without jealousy is rare.”

  “I’m not surprised.” Kurine shook her head. “But if Turesobei’s culture doesn't do any of that, then why does he have so much trouble sticking with just one girl? Somehow he ended up with two fiancées and a girlfriend.”

  Iniru laughed. “True, but maybe that makes him a perfect candidate for a k'chasan bond-mate. He does love both of us equally.”

  “I guess.”

  “Maybe, eventually…you and I…we could be close,” Iniru said quietly.

  “Like bonded friends?”

  “Something like that…. Whatever works.”

  “I don't have a sister and I never had any female friends.”

  “You do now.”

  “Well, for Turesobei I’m willing to try anything. But are we talking both of us being married to him, like siwei or whatever, or—?”

  Iniru waved a hand. “That’s too far off. One thing at a time. We’d have to grow a lot closer than casual friends first.”

  Turesobei’s thoughts raced. Kurine and Iniru bonded to each other and married to him? That seemed amazing and disastrous, terrifying and inspiring. Definitely too good to be true. His relationships couldn't work out that simply. Could they? Even if it did work, his family would never approve of it. Of course, at this point, he was the only one of their group that the clan would actually welcome back. So maybe what they thought didn't matter.

  “So for now, we'll keep splitting him like we did before and start working on sharing as we get to know one another?” Kurine asked.

  Iniru nodded. “We should try harder to be fair to one another, instead of worrying about getting our fair share of him.”

  “I have a feeling that’ll be harder than it sounds.”

  “In my experience, everything worth doing is.” Iniru asked. “Are you coming in now?”

  Kurine shook her head. “I think I’ll stay out here a little longer.”

  Iniru kissed her on the cheek. “Good night.”

  “Iniru…wait.”

  “You can call me Niru now.”

  Kurine smiled a moment then her expression turned serious. “Niru…promise me something. Don’t ever give your life to save me like that again.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Just…just promise, okay?”

  “Kurine….”

  “Please.” Kurine’s voice choked. “I’m not afraid of death. I’m not afraid of going back to the Shadowland. And…even if we do get out of here, I'm never going home. I just can't stand the thought of you dying so that I can live to see your home. I don’t want to look at your Okoro and think about you in the Shadowland alone, okay?”

  Iniru frowned. “If—if it means that much to you, then I suppose. But it’s a strange request. You know that, right?”

  “I know, but….” Kurine wiped tears from her cheeks. “I can’t explain it. Just please don’t do it, okay?”

  Turesobei scratched his head. Kurine wasn’t making much sense. But maybe it was some sort of goronku thing.

  Iniru took her hands. “If it means that much to you, then I pr
omise.”

  Kurine hugged her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re a weird one, Kurine.”

  She smiled. “Like you’re not?”

  “Never said I wasn’t. See ya tomorrow.”

  Iniru padded over the bridge that crossed the stream. She paused a few feet away from Turesobei, smiled and whispered, “If you’re going to spy on me, you need a spell to cover your scent.”

  Chapter Sixty-Nine

  He blushed and stuttered. “There—there isn’t one.”

  “That seems like an oversight,” she said. “Are you sorry for snooping?”

  He nodded dumbly.

  She smiled broadly and winked. “Then I’ll pretend you weren’t here.”

  He had a hundred questions to ask her but couldn’t gather the courage. “Thanks.”

  “Good night, Sobei.” She blew him a kiss as she skipped away.

  He looked over at Kurine. She knelt beside the stream, watching the water play across the rocks, and rubbed her neck. She seemed deep in thought and hadn’t noticed them talking.

  Turesobei snuck away and wandered back toward his room. Lu Bei fluttered alongside.

  “I wonder why there aren’t any spells for masking scents.”

  Lu Bei paused to pick a petal from a chrysanthemum. “Smell is the most difficult sense to fool, because of its subtlety. The trick is to summon a breeze to move your scent away from anyone that might pick it up.”

  “Oh, obviously.”

  “Indeed, master.”

  Turesobei’s mind drifted to Iniru and Kurine under the sycamore. “What do you think about—?”

  “I’m trying not to, master.”