by Justin Hill
The sound distracted Silent Wolf and Hades Dai’s broadsword slipped past his guard. He jerked back, bending almost double at the waist, but still the blade nicked his left cheek. The skin smarted, he felt warm blood on his neck. Hades Dai grinned.
“Next time, the whole head,” he said.
Silent Wolf breathed in deep. He was listening for Shulien. She is in trouble. You are here and he is better than you remember. He will kill you. He will put your skull on his pile.
Silent Wolf tried to force his thoughts to silence. Be calm, he ordered himself, but he was fighting with his heart today as much as with his mind.
The Hellfire Blade got past his guard again; the flames roared as it crashed into the bricks where his head had been.
Silent Wolf needed time. He somersaulted down and landed where the heaps of West Lotus dead were beginning to pile up into mounds at Wei-fang’s and Snow Vase’s feet. Hades Dai came down like a gibbon from a tree, swinging his great mass on his long arms and landing with a thunderous thud on the ground. There was not a moment’s pause. He bounded straight into the fight, Hellfire Blade leading.
Silent Wolf cursed as he fell back. He had hoped for a longer respite to calm himself. This is the fight of your life, he told himself again, and you are going to get yourself killed for your feelings! The absurdity of it seemed almost fitting. Silent Wolf, dour, taciturn, granite-cold, lost his last fight because he let his feelings get the better of him. His face was grim and set as he backed away. Hades Dai could tell his opponent was weakening. He stepped deftly for such a massive man. His footwork was impeccable, his speed terrifying, his skill deadly. Silent Wolf had to allow him that. And he had the reach, and the weight of the Hellfire Blade. Blocking it was beginning to take its toll on Silent Wolf’s arm. He could feel the muscles in his shoulder beginning to burn. His forearm was stiffening. Silent Wolf had always thought the Green Destiny to be the finest blade ever forged, but if that was so, there was little between it and the Hellfire Blade. All that is between them is the wielder, the voice in his head whispered.
He gritted his teeth to shut it up. This is no time for doubt, he told himself, but words were one thing, reality another. He began to realize that not even he could best Hades Dai with the sword, and at that moment Hades Dai caught Green Destiny. It was a child’s trick, a slow swipe, catching the hilt and twisting the grip from his hand. It was too simple, too easy. Silent Wolf misread it and Green Destiny was ripped from his hand, flying across the clearing and embedding itself into a tree where it quivered, like a steel arrow.
Hades Dai shook his head and sighed theatrically. “Sometimes the straightest road is the best, the simplest tricks beat the best masters.”
Silent Wolf did not step back this time. Hades Dai looked down on him, almost sadly. All life was theater, his expression seemed to say.
Tragedy, comedy, farce.
His muscles gleamed with sweat, but there was nothing weary about the way he took the Hellfire Blade hilt in both hands, and swung the blade up above his head for a mighty, killing blow.
Silent Wolf knew that this was it. There was no running now, no fighting. He opened his arms wide for the blow, closed his eyes, and at last he felt calm, like warm water, rise within him.
Shulien was fighting blind—she had acute senses but they were not enough to ward off the Blind Enchantress. She parried one, two, three blows, and on the third a stray spark gave her enough light to see where her attacker was, on her left, and moving around to her side.
The spark lasted only a moment, before the darkness returned.
Shulien swiped at where she guessed her attacker was, but her swords caught nothing.
She tried again, and there was laughter this time.
Shulien swung both swords at the noise, but again caught nothing.
A third time she tried, and this time she gasped and dropped a sword.
She had been cut. She scrabbled in the dirt for the dropped sword, fearing a sudden blow, as blood dripped from her fingers.
There was the sound of ripping cloth, and moonlight suddenly spilt through one of the drapes on the walls. It was pale moonlight, not enough to be able to thread a needle, but it was enough for Shulien to see that her foe was nowhere to be seen. Which meant that . . .
Shulien leaped to the side and rolled, and heard the metallic clang of a blade striking the spot where she had just been. The Blind Enchantress was behind her, all six arms swinging as she clanged her way across the room.
Shulien was wounded and she only had one sword to hold the six blades off. They were a whirlwind of steel sweeping toward her.
The light streamed in as the last of the drapes were torn down, and into the room jumped Snow Vase. Her sword stopped the killing blow an inch from Shulien’s neck, turned it aside, then caught the next three blows and knocked them aside.
Shulien froze and Snow Vase spoke one word. “Teacher.”
Her voice was low, breathless, almost imploring. It spoke to Shulien, begged her for help, begged her to be the master warrior she was, and it gave Shulien the confidence and determination to keep fighting.
The enchantress muttered in frustration, speaking to herself. “She has come! You did not see that. The young can be so hard to see. Their choices are hard to anticipate.”
Together Shulien and Snow Vase, master and teacher, met the storm of steel, held it and then drove the thing back. It was a beautiful fight, almost a dance, between the inhuman insect-like enchantress and the two human shapes, twirling, spinning, pirouetting.
One mistake was all it took. One mistake was death, and it was the Blind Enchantress that faltered first.
Snow Vase’s sword cut a hand from an arm, and it crumbled into dust as the sword fell to the floor. The thing still did not slow or show any signs of pain, though when Snow Vase sheared another arm just below the elbow it let out a gritted snarl of fury.
One by one they picked off the arms, like plucking legs from a daddy longlegs, until the thing was a squirming body with thrashing stumps of limbs.
Snow Vase looked down in horror, but she did not deliver the death blow.
She turned to Shulien and bowed. Judgment was for her teacher to deliver.
Shulien was wounded. Her left hand was thick with her own blood. “You have beaten it,” she said. “You kill it.”
Snow Vase paused.
“Quick!” Shulien said. “Before it rises!”
Snow Vase did not look away. She drove her sword through the thing, driving straight for where the heart should be.
It was a quick, clean blow. Merciful, in its way. The thing thrashed wildly for a moment, then a great shudder went through it as Snow Vase pulled her sword free, and it kicked a circle on the ground, like a headless chicken.
“It is gone,” Shulien said as they watched it grow still. Its robes came free and beneath was not the body of a person. The skin was green, the back was hard and glossy, the underbelly was a brown-green color, like the belly of a cockroach.
“Heavens!” Snow Vase said. They stared at it in horror.
Neither of them wanted to go closer.
There was a furious battle as the remaining West Lotus warriors tried to reach Hades Dai. Before them Silent Wolf’s men stood resolute. Silver Dart was cut down. Thunder Fist died with his foe dead in his hands.
Flying Blade lay wounded. “Water,” he gasped.
“Here!” a voice said, and someone put a flask in his hand. He looked up. It was Wei-fang.
“They’re coming again,” Flying Blade said.
“I can see,” Wei-fang said. He was bloodied and weary beyond belief, but he stood alone and held the enemy back.
There was a gasp, and the fighting lulled for a moment.
Wei-fang heard a ring of steel, a clean light sound like a small bell ringing.
He turned and saw the Green Des
tiny flying through the air. It struck a tree and quivered.
He turned open-mouthed and saw Silent Wolf standing with his arms wide open, welcoming the death blow.
“No!” he shouted. But as he began to shout the Hellfire Blade began its terrible downswing.
Wei-fang turned his back on the West Lotus warriors. He leaped forward, still screaming, as the Hellfire Blade kept swinging down. Wei-fang saw that he could not possibly hope to make it in time. He ran regardless, hurled his nunchaku, and the three links of wood twirled around and around, impossibly slowly as the world went quiet. It was one last, desperate, futile effort.
And now you have disarmed yourself, Wei-fang cursed as he saw that there was nothing he could do to help Silent Wolf.
“No!” he shouted again, or was it still the same shout, he could not be sure, but Silent Wolf did not react. He stood, bent a little backward, arms outstretched, eyes closed, breathing calmly through his nose as the Hellfire Blade whistled down in the breeze of its own passing.
Wei-fang turned away. He could not bear to see this. Silent Wolf would be cut from shoulder to waist, his carcass cut into two pieces, like some common criminal. But, despite himself, he kept one eye half open.
As the Hellfire Blade descended, Silent Wolf brought his outstretched palms together and caught it within them.
It was a glorious effort, but there was nothing that could stop that blow from a man with such power as Hades Dai. But the Hellfire Blade slowed. Silent Wolf drew on all his qi. It was a rope holding his two palms together. The qi passed straight through the sword. It was stronger than muscle and bone, stronger than steel, stronger than silk.
His qi was a rod of pure power. His arms were a circle. Within them was trapped the Hellfire Blade, and even though Hades Dai grunted and strained there was nothing he could do to tug his blade free. He let go of the hilt and drove at Silent Wolf with bludgeoning fists.
Fist met palm, palm met kick, thrust became pull. The two warriors battled without weapons, closer and faster than before.
With size and strength and reach, this should have been Hades Dai’s killing ground, but Silent Wolf, looking small and childlike, was holding his own. More than that, Wei-fang saw—he was matching each blow and thrusting them away.
Hades Dai’s weight shifted to his back foot. Silent Wolf came forward, and Hades Dai took a first step back.
There was a brief moment’s pause before Silent Wolf put both hands together and stamped as he pushed into Hades Dai’s gut, shouting a blast of qi.
The giant flew back, as if he were no more than a rag doll. He rolled backward as he landed, and came back onto his feet. There was blood on his lip. He dabbed it with the back of his hand and smiled.
“I always dreamed of fighting you again,” he said.
“Your dream will be over soon.”
Hades Dai looked at him. “I see the power in you, my child. I gave you that. I am the spring from which you flow.”
Silent Wolf laughed and Hades Dai’s look darkened. “I killed you too quickly last time. I have enjoyed our fight. But now it is time for you to die again.”
Silent Wolf saw his mistake too late. Hades Dai had rolled next to the tree where Green Destiny was impaled. He leaped as Hades Dai pulled the Green Destiny free, caught the giant’s arm with both hands. He flung Hades Dai from him, and the two men rolled over and over, one, two, three times. And then they lay still. From the point of Green Destiny red blood gathered, and began to drip.
“No,” Hades Dai said, as he looked down. It was his own hand that held Green Destiny, but Silent Wolf had turned his wrist so that Hades Dai had rolled onto the blade and driven it deep through his guts. The bigger man was on top. He frowned as he shook his head. “That was a child’s trick and it has done for me. But I have you.” He reached down, both hands clamping around Silent Wolf’s neck. “We shall visit Hell together. Just one little tug, like a chicken . . .”
Wei-fang caught Hades Dai’s hand and pulled with all his body. The bigger man groaned as he was slowly thwarted, and at last he was peeled off and Silent Wolf rolled away. His clothes were torn, there was a bite on his neck. The flesh was raw and bloody.
Hades Dai fell back, and the sword went deeper. At last he pushed himself up, and sat on his backside with a surprised look on his face.
“I killed you once,” he said. “And now I think you have had your turn.”
Silent Wolf staggered. He was bleeding from a dozen small cuts. He swayed, but managed to remain standing. His foe was beaten.
“We each won one battle,” Hades Dai said. “Though I do not think there will be a third.”
“The fighting is done,” Silent Wolf said.
Hades Dai tried to stand but the pain was too much, and he gritted his teeth. His liver was bleeding. His guts were torn. He could feel the qi draining out of him. “I thought I would beat you. I beat you once,” he said. He looked up. The anger, the fury had all gone. He looked almost sad as a cushion of blood spread around him.
“You fought well,” Silent Wolf said. “Your name will live on when men speak of the Iron Way.”
“The Iron Way,” Hades Dai said. “I thought Green Destiny would give me great power, great fame. But look what it brought me.” He looked down to where his lifeblood was draining away.
“You have won fame,” Silent Wolf said.
Hades Dai laughed, but all that came up was blood, bubbling at his lower lip. Life was all a game, his eyes seemed to say.
Silent Wolf stood over his enemy. Hades Dai frowned as his last lifeblood drained away, then he closed his eyes and Silent Wolf saluted as his enemy’s ghost departed the world.
Silent Wolf looked up. Wei-fang was coming toward him. He had a cut on his arm. He stopped a spear’s length from Hades Dai.
“Is he dead?” he said.
Silent Wolf nodded. “He is gone ahead, on the road we all must travel.”
Wei-fang looked down. “When our time comes.”
Silent Wolf smiled. “Yes. And we should enjoy ourselves until then.”
Wei-fang saw a flash of silver as Iron Crow hurled a silver dart. He could not tell if he was the target or if the dart was meant for Silent Wolf, but he shouted a warning, shoved Silent Wolf aside, and leaped before the blade.
Snow Vase saw the dart hit Wei-fang in the chest, and she shouted with fury.
She leaped from the window and landed before Iron Crow, sword flashing in attack. She drove him back with ferocious blows, caught him once, twice, three times, but he would not fall.
Snow Vase stopped only when a hand gripped her wrist. She yanked her hand away and saw Shulien’s face. “He is dead,” her teacher said.
Snow Vase looked imploringly at her teacher. Shulien nodded. “Look,” she said, but she was not pointing toward Wei-fang, but to Iron Crow, who had fallen back against a tree. His eyes were open but his gaze was blank, and as they watched he slid slowly down.
Snow Vase turned. Wei-fang had fallen, and Silent Wolf was crouched over him. The wounded warrior did not move.
“No!” she said, and ran across to him.
Shulien was faster. The older woman bent down and turned Wei-fang over. She pulled the dart out, and a gush of blood came with it. The image of her mother’s mouth stained with blood came back to Snow Vase, the sound of that cough. The red arterial blood. Snow Vase had a sudden fear and stepped back. Wei-fang’s eyes fluttered as Shulien sat him up, and he coughed; there was red froth on his lips.
He’s going to die, she thought, and cursed her luck, but she knelt down beside him.
“Her words were true,” Wei-fang said. His lung was punctured. Blood was rattling in his throat. It was a ghastly sound.
Snow Vase held him. She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what or who he was talking about, just wanted to let him know that she was there for him. He looked at her
and forced a smile. “She said he would get the Green Destiny by the end of the full moon. Silent Wolf gave it to him.”
“We saw,” Snow Vase said. “Hold your breath.”
He shook his head feebly. “I’m sorry. I failed. I thought her words would come true. I believed in her. She was my mother.”
Snow Vase shushed him as she frantically tried to stop the blood.
His movements became weaker. “My road has ended,” he said. “It is the Iron Way. We all must travel it.”
Snow Vase held him close. His blood was foaming on his lips and his breath rattled. His fingers clutched at her; blood freckled her cheek but she did not pull away.
Wei-fang’s eyes were wandering but as the dawn began to brighten around them, they found Snow Vase and he forced a smile.
“I am glad that you are here,” he said. “We were meant to meet, I think . . .” He coughed, and Snow Vase held him and her and Shulien’s gazes met.
Shulien’s eyes were wide with horror and grief and sadness. Snow Vase understood with cold clarity. This was how her teacher had held Mubai, as he breathed his last.
29
Sir Te placed his hands together as if in prayer, and touched his fingertips to his nose. He was pacing back and forth in the bamboo garden. His heart was racing, his palms were sweating, he was so nervous he felt exhausted. His breakfast tray of steamed buns—each one dotted with red or green or blue, which told him which were stuffed with pork or sesame and sugar, or green chives—had long since cooled.
It was early summer. The air was fresh and cool. Light rains turned the mountains green and in the gardens the cherry blossoms had gone, but the buds on the trees were opening fresh, pale-green leaves. This was his favorite time of year, but he was too anxious to enjoy it.
Sir Te heard voices and prepared himself. He saw the shadows approaching the round moon gate, and then the figures appeared. Shulien in conversation with Silent Wolf, then Snow Vase, following behind at a distance. Snow Vase’s hair was combed back, her head was bent, and there was a sadness about her, Sir Te thought, which made her even lovelier than before.
