by T. A. Miles
Expelling the Unworthy
WEEKS OF CONFLICT led to months. Reports from Tzu and the coast were of more successes than setbacks, but all of Xun’s resources were being put to use now, because the Empress’ forces had come to revoke privilege, not to reproach or admonish. Ha Ming Jin had made it clear that he would not accept the authority of the Empress. He would hold his position as governor no longer. Undoubtedly, he knew that even surrender would not alter that fate at this stage. So, he would not give up. Slowly and with inexorability he must have felt closing in, the forces of Ji would sap the strength of Xun.
The war against the Southern Kingdom had lasted well into summer. Xu Liang understood that such an undertaking could take far longer, but he felt pressed by the lingering state of blight at the Imperial City. Reports had become repetitive. Still, there had been no worse conditions caused by the curse, and the health of the plant life within and without of the city appeared to have recovered normally. But those who had been affected continued to feel a lack of vigor, and there seemed a looming threat that it would return—perhaps cyclically, and perhaps worse with each recurrence until a way was found to eradicate it.
Efforts to find Guo Sen or Lei Kui had been fruitless. Further efforts made to locate Han Quan were supported by the entity in Xu Liang’s dreams—the ungrateful insistence of what at times seemed barely above a child that he not only continue to do so, but that he work faster. Those messages were delivered through repeated dreams like the first he had experienced involving the school. At times the school was replaced with the Imperial City, but always it came with the threat of the mass suffering and debilitation of the people of Sheng Fan. Eventually, Xu Liang stopped following the red rope in his dreams. His dreams became tantrums on behalf of whatever spirit or ghost had invaded them. Those tantrums were abbreviated by the Phoenix, which consistently closed the demonstrations of aggression off by closing its flames around Xu Liang’s subconscious.
Nothing more seemed to come of it, however, beyond threat. It was that fact which indicated to Xu Liang that he was on a course to a resolution, and that the presence attempting to push him simply didn’t appreciate the waiting. It began to occur to him that he might have been carrying a ghost on his back and while it was with him, it had less range. He was coming to believe that the ghost may have been of Lei Kui’s sibling after all. If that were true, while he may have felt pity for the girl’s plight, he would not allow her to set her suffering onto others. He would find a way to expel her, and he would also find a way to expel the ghost of Cai Shi-meng.
“Alere and Tristus are doing well,” Shirisae noted while riding beside him along the route from their most recent established outpost to the craggy, mildly desert plains of central Xun. The Yellow Gate would be their next challenge.
In response to Shirisae, Xu Liang said, “Yes. They are becoming heroes of the Empire.”
“Have you thought about the dragon sighting at sea?” the elf asked next.
Xu Liang shook his head. “I have not. Undoubtedly, it has meaning, but at the moment I find my focus not easily split.”
Shirisae accepted that silently.
Silence was not truly present, however, since they were constantly in the company of thousands of troops. Xu Liang felt that he should have been more exhausted, but he had the stamina to continue, and the energy to look forward to finding Han Quan. The former chancellor would be arrested, and the ghost he carried would be forced from him, if Xu Liang had to personally escort him to Che Wen Tai. If the Supreme Astralmancer was unwilling to take action, then Xu Liang would do so himself, if it required a year of meditation within the Wisdom Pavilion.
“What if Han Quan does turn out to be the reincarnation of Cai Shi-meng?” Shirisae wondered. Her sudden question undermined all of his previous determination.
He couldn’t help that he felt antagonized by her curiosity in that moment, but he understood that concern also motivated her. Closing his eyes for a moment, he said, “Then expelling his vengeful presence would become more complicated. Possibly.”
He admitted that he didn’t know and they traveled for a wordless distance before coming to the edges of the Gai Xo Plains. The region was marked by the Yellow Gate, which was a natural formation of golden rock that formed an archway over the road leading to Bei Xo. The road cut through the rocky terrain, saving days of travel around to either side. It was the ideal location for an ambush.
“We’ll send scouts,” Xu Liang said. The order was taken by Gai Ping and brought swiftly to Tian Qi.
While the troops were gradually drawn to a halt, Xu Liang looked to Shirisae, whose gaze was directed skyward. Xu Liang followed with his own eyes, until he also spotted the vulture circling overhead.
“We must be close,” he said.
Shirisae looked at him, drawing his gaze back down to her in the process. In the instant they were focused on each other, he felt a renewal of energy, not only for resolving the matter of Han Quan and Lei Kui, but for everything which made that resolution important to begin with.
THE SCOUTS RETURNED within a day with nothing suspicious to report, but Shirisae could tell that Xu Liang was not satisfied. He continued to look upon the Yellow Gate from their camp, as if it were somehow living and attempting to conceal the fact from him.
Shirisae stood beside him, facing the pass that lay in the near distance. A warm breeze tunneled through the rocks and across the camp. There was not a cloud to be seen, nor any sign of life save for the vulture that had moved on by now. The region was sparsely vegetated, with only minor areas of low grass and bushes. It seemed impossible for an ambush party to be hiding anywhere in the area, but then she had to recall the centaurs, and how they had tucked themselves amid the rocks.
But they were working against men, not centaurs. It could only have had to do with Han Quan. If an area of land had been designed for a geomancer, then surely Gai Xo would be that area.
“Please, wait here,” Xu Liang said unexpectedly.
“Why?” Shirisae wanted to know. There were very few answers that would anchor her under the present circumstances.
Of course, he knew those answers, and delivered one with ease. “I need you here.”
She gave promise with a nod, then watched him into Blue Crane’s saddle. He started across the distance to the gate and was halfway there before anyone else noticed him.
“What is he doing?” Shi Dian asked when he arrived beside Shirisae.
She didn’t honestly know. Still, she said, “He’s solving a riddle.” It seemed the best answer, since it reminded her of the pass of the forest guardian in Aer. It reminded her also that he would not have gone, if he did not already have his answer.
XU LIANG APPROACHED the Yellow Gate at a cautious pace. He did not suspect that the gate itself would collapse, but he did believe that a trap had been laid. He believed it would be activated when the correct party or parties crossed the threshold of the pass. In this instance—as the scouts had proved—the party required was not all or any of them, but one of them very specifically. He believed that he would be the one to activate whatever had been set, and so it was for him to contend with it…and with Han Quan.
With his gaze yet on the natural arches of stone looming high overhead, Xu Liang adjusted his grip on Blue Crane’s reins with one hand while placing the other on the Moon Blade’s hilt. Passing directly beneath the entrance seemed to trigger nothing, so he proceeded into the corridor of rock that was dusted with yellow sand and pale brush. The delicate and mildly colored ends of the brush were likened to the tips of a crane’s wings, hence the name for the region. But it was not a crane among the rocks. It was a traitor who belonged to no kingdom.
Gravel danced down the shallow tiers of rock to one side of the pass, as if in answer. The ground began to emit a low tremor. Larger pieces of stone tumbled into the pass soon afterward, and Xu Liang drew Pearl Moon. The dome formed at once, and it was then that the world became as discolored as his dreams.
As if he’d drawn himself out of his body with the unsheathing of the Moon Blade, he was surrounded by the mingling green and gray of the Phoenix and the Spirit of Death. There were indeed boulders rolling into the pass, their purpose undoubtedly to crush him and any with him, but in his sudden state they were slowed to near stillness. They hovered like misshapen orbs in an environment that was yet the pass, but also the School of the Seven Mystics. The steep road between the rocks became stairs leading up to a pavilion. An assortment of red threads floated outstretched, as if caught by the wind, but they were also almost motionless.
Xu Liang found himself standing among them, the pavilion ahead of him. And behind him…
When he looked he saw the Yellow Gate, though it was doused in the green glow of the Flame as viewed in his dreams. He saw himself protected by the dome of Mei Qiao, nearly frozen in time. Behind himself and Blue Crane, a dark haze had gathered, showing the silhouettes of soldiers. Shirisae was not visible to him in this state.
He turned back around to the stairs, stepping upward, past scarcely moving rocks that floated like islands of jade, connected by strands of red silk. The pavilion lay ahead of him, empty save for a lone figure. It was not the ghost of a girl…nor the spectral form of the spirit Zhai Liao. It was the Scholar General.
Cai Shi-meng stood looking precisely as Han Quan to him. Whether it was accuracy or association, Xu Liang found himself disinterested. The path of Han Quan’s betrayal and Cai Shi-meng’s revenge would go no further.
“Are you so assured of that, Xu Liang?” Han Quan asked. He was a narrow figure in the center of the pavilion, draped in robes patterned with dragons. The robes were black, the dragons red, and the elder’s hair was starkly white against both.
“I am,” Xu Liang said, finding that he could not take the steps quickly, but that he could move up them surely. His own robes had gone black with a green and silver iridescence about them. The pattern of the phoenix was not present, perhaps because the Phoenix itself was present in the air. Behind him, his hair stretched to unnatural lengths, as if to fill the space with his presence in one way or another.
Han Quan seemed to recognize that, and seemed hesitant, even if only a little.
“You speak to me of betrayal, when it is you who are the betrayer!” the ancient declared. “You pass the fate of the Empire into the hands of a daughter of traitors! You hold a power that exceeds the Mandate, but I would not have served you either. And if you think this is over devotion to Ganzan Li, you’re wrong! I had no care for Ganzan Li! Ganzan Li represented the worthless and gaudy pride of the Celestial Dragons. He was vain and useless, but the Song are a blight! She is not even a true child of the Song—and the Song were assassins! The Dynasty is founded on wolves and vultures! You believe that no one can see that? You question why they all turn to you? Silent Emperor!”
Beside Xu Liang one of the boulders broke apart. It happened so sluggishly that it was almost as witnessing a blossom opening. Xu Liang raised one hand to push the hovering fragments from his path, continuing up the stairs.
“It makes no difference now,” Han Quan continued. “I’ve chosen my master, and the pieces are already in place. Your time has ended!”
THE MOMENT ROCKS had begun to assail the pass, the soldiers rushed to take action, as if there were any real action they could take. Shirisae advised any in range to stay calm, though she understood the difficulty of that, while Xu Liang stood with a dome of blue light as his only shelter against boulders tumbling down the incline, off the walls, and over him. The Yellow Gate was under assault, and there was a fear in her and the others that it might collapse, trapping Xu Liang within the pass, but so far it was holding. She decided to position herself nearer to the gate and wield Firestorm’s channeling energy against the boulders. The magic snaked in lightning chains toward the pass, damaging some of the rocks it struck, but not enough to break them apart.
She repositioned Kirlothden, who disliked the thunderous crashing of rock ahead of him, then recalled the efforts she and Xu Liang had made against the dragon. She aimed lower, not at the dome, but near enough that the magics were drawn to each other. The dome pulled the lightning in and sent greater arcs at what assailed it. The boulders burst into smaller projectiles, showering the entry.
Behind her, the soldiers cheered the effort, which seemed a solution for the immediate problem, but there was a greater threat. She had seen Xu Liang’s spirit move away from his body, which she had never seen him do before while in the midst of a battle. She wondered why the Phoenix had not emerged to enhance the shelter of the dome, but could only assume that it was moving with him now, more completely than it had at any time before. It would act with him, rather than separately of him.
And if the rocks were Han Quan’s doing, then perhaps Xu Liang had gone after the ghost of Cai Shi-meng. But the body of the geomancer had to be near.
Shirisae paused her assault long enough to look behind her. Tian Qi and the guards were mounted and near, prepared to fight an enemy they could not see.
Except, that they did see them. In the moments Shirisae had turned from the pass, Gai Ping pointed back toward it while Tian Qi turned to the soldiers, riding the small distance back to order them into formation.
Shirisae looked ahead of her, at rows of bowmen who were using the high walls of the pass as natural battlements. To either side, Xun’s troops had arrived, though they were still somewhat distant. The forces to the east were nearer, but now that they’d seen the Empress’ troops, they were charging on both sides.
There was room enough behind them—they were not trapped—and their numbers were tremendous. Shirisae felt confident that they would prevail, in spite of the enemy’s tactics. She raised the Storm Blade and sent its power arcing off the dome of the Moon Blade. By chance, a boulder throwing itself high over the dome was struck, sending pieces of it at the lines of bowmen. It alarmed a few of the archers nearer to the pass, inspiring them to adjust their position, while at least one of them was struck by enough debris to put him down.
An ambitious bowmen fired a shaft that managed to stir Shirisae’s hair. “Take care of them!” she said to the guards.
Gai Ping and Su Gong were already aligning shots. Well behind them, their own line of bowmen had formed and sent a wave of arrows toward the wall. The bolts on both sides formed a canopy, which created a rain of disrupted projectiles in some places. Where the shafts found targets, cries of pain joined the clamor.
The troops had fanned out behind Shirisae, moving to defend against the oncoming forces on both sides. She would have only the wall to contend with for now. Ahead of her, Xu Liang remained still, preserved beneath the Moon Blade’s dome.
“THE SHADOW DRAGONS have been unleashed upon the world. The messengers of doom, heralds of Chaos, the last of the Spirit Dragons.”
Xu Liang arrived at the top of the stairs and stood at the threshold of the pavilion. Han Quan remained at the center of it, eyes wide with passion while he spoke in the tones of a fanatic.
“The Celestial Dragons no longer exist as they once did! Their souls glisten impotently in the Heavens since they were made to take physical form on the mortal plane. They are providers only of light and wisdom, and as this conflict unfurls they again do nothing. Again, the world relies on the weapons of the gods to save it, but now the weapons of the gods are in the hands of mortals. Mortals who struggled against even one shadow dragon!”
Xu Liang watched him speaking, growing steadily angrier that there was no one to acknowledge his adamancy. “I have not come to speak to you of dragons.”
That fact, so simply stated, seemed to calm the ancient. He nearly smiled, bowing. When he straightened, he said, “Then you have come to die.”
The boundaries of the pavilion drifted away, leaving the space to expand between them. The top of the rock wall became stretched like a desert beneath a sky textured with rapidly moving veils of green and gray clouds. The boulders were no longer present, but the red threads persisted, risi
ng from the colorless earth as if blown upward by invisible vents.
Across the sparse forest of drifting strands, Han Quan held his arms out to either side, raising the sand. It swiftly congealed and took form. As if the geomancer had called upon the Spirit of Earth itself, the sands gained mass and structure. Legs formed and pushed a broad, stony body to a stand, towering over Xu Liang as the ice giant once did, but it was not the ice giant that loomed at his subconscious, nor was it the Spirit of Earth. It was the Spirit of Vengeance.
Xu Liang looked upon the mildly elven features, coming to recognize the face as if it were one of his allies. Perhaps because it was through one of his allies that he and this entity had first been introduced. Was this why Tristus had been less affected by his berserker aspect? Because that aspect happened to be this spirit, and it had taken interest in someone with an even greater sense of revenge?
“But how can you choose?” Xu Liang wondered. “If all vengeance is yours, and there is so much of it here.”
The demonic spirit became enraged at once, charging across the expanse, wielding a fist as if it intended to crush Xu Liang where he stood.
Xu Liang raised his arms out, and then drew them together in front of him, summoning a gale that interrupted the spirit, as it had once before. And as before, the spirit pushed against it with strength that might have forced through, except the favor of the Spirit of the Wind was currently empowered by the Phoenix. Xu Liang believed now that it was the Phoenix that had helped him to pin Vengeance at the time two of the Blades were in jeopardy. He believed that it was the Phoenix which inspired Vengeance to stalk carefully around and away from his previous host.
