by Dante King
The king had the same technique, I realized. He’d just used it to pull me back from the ocean. It was almost impossible to imagine King Beqai killing two tidal wyrms. But you could never judge a person’s power in a world like this purely on appearance.
I raised my hand and let the Vigor flow down the newly forged channel. I focused on the ocean as I tried to call forth a wave. Nothing moved in response, even though I could feel the strength of the magic inside me.
Beqai chuckled to himself and waved one of his tentacles. “You’re like an infant who has just ridden his first seahorse and thinks he’s ready to ride a killer whale. The ocean is vast and willful; it cannot be so easily tamed. You must gain practice and experience first.”
“Then, that’s what I’ll do,” I said. I was eager to work on this new skill, to master it and make its power mine. “Can you point me to a river or lake that’s a good size to start with?”
Beqai laughed again. “For now, focus on what makes you strong. Adaptability and the combination of elements, characteristics fitting for one who pursues the mantle of the Immortal Swordslinger.”
“Fair.” I bowed to him. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“I grant nothing. You earned it when you killed two tidal wyrms—a mighty feat by any standard, and one that has saved my city. Now, come; the tide of night wanes. We should return to the palace. You and your friends can rest there. Tomorrow, I will throw a great feast to celebrate your victory and to once again reintroduce myself to those of my court. And then, we have a council of war. The Resplendent Tears Guild has stirred trouble against us for too long. It is time for us to take the battle to them.”
Chapter Seventeen
I staggered into a room the king had given me, dog tired and soaked to the skin.
The room was larger than the one I’d been given at the guild house. The walls were white with bright bands of red and yellow at the top and bottom. Flames in the fireplace crackled and dried my soaked clothes on a wooden rack beside it.
I peeled off my wet clothes and sat cross-legged beside the fireplace to work on the pathways for the Crashing Wave technique. I allowed the flicker of flames to flood my mind as I inhaled and exhaled slowly. The hours passed as I formed and reformed the channels, using the blueprint the tidal wyrm’s core had given me. It was the most complex technique I’d tried to learn so far. It circled around itself like some kind of internal whirlpool, and I was often lost in its winding motions.
Success came after what felt like hours of meditation. But sleep overtook me before I got the chance to try the technique. As soon as the pathway had completed to my satisfaction, I collapsed into bed.
I woke, opened my eyes, and my pool of Vigor stirred as I found it replenished.
The double bed had been my best friend in the night’s recovery. The soft mattress was scented with a fragrant herb that refreshed the air each time I rolled over. Sheets of soft silk laid beneath a warm woollen blanket.
I stretched my stiff muscles and yawned loudly. This was the sort of life I could get used to. Not that I didn’t enjoy the thrill of adventure or the satisfaction of saving people from monsters, but this was a damn sight more comfortable than camping out in the forest or sheltering in a cave on a snowy mountainside. For now, I’d have to take what was offered. And Qihin Palace did not disappoint.
I swung my legs around and tentatively pressed a foot to comfortable furs that sprawled out over the tiled floor. The Sundered Heart lay in its sheath beside the bed. I tapped the hilt, but Nydarth didn’t reply. Perhaps even dragon spirits needed a while to rest.
I walked over to the floor-length window at the side of the room. A thin, clear membrane kept in the heat of the hearth and held the ocean wind at bay.
The home of the Qihin people bustled with life even as night drew on. People went on to cook their meals and tell stories to their children as if their homes hadn’t almost been trampled by monsters twice in as many days. I wondered whether the city would have been even busier without these troubles. There had been talk about trade routes along the coast, and a conflict between guild and clan couldn’t be great for trade. Yet, large boats drifted in and out of the delta, clearly loaded down with goods.
My stomach rumbled. I’d been asleep for almost 20 hours, and I hadn’t eaten for a good while before that. The promise of Beqai’s feast last night struck me, and I moved over to the fire. It took me a minute to dress, tie my hair back, and pull my sandals tight around my feet. I left the room and headed down toward the swell of conversation and music below the palace.
I walked down the stairs of the main palace building and out into the courtyard. It had been transformed since I was there last. Tables stood tall around the pools and groaned under the weight of the food and drink. Whole roasted boars, steamed fish six feet long, cakes built in elaborate tiers and decorated with sculpted sugar stood beside heaps of exotic fruit, bottles of wine, and enough barrels of beer to intoxicate an entire army.
Glowing stones in every color of the rainbow had been raised up on wooden poles between the tables to provide light as the evening settled in. Hundreds of guests milled about as the light cast them in a dozen different hues as they stepped from one pool of light to another. Some of Beqai’s guests had clearly seen this sort of lighting before and came in outfits that made the most of it. Silver scales shimmered on their clothes and reflected whatever color they strolled under. Others wore finely tailored and magnificently embroidered clan robes.
I stepped out into the throng. A servant handed me a wooden cup, and I took a sip. It was a sweet and heady wine with a slight hint of salt. A bolt of warmth crept into my muscles, and I relaxed a little.
Kegohr towered over the other guests at a table to my right. He swung a roasted leg of some giant game bird and quaffed a jug full of something as he laughed with Vesma and a knot of fish people. Many of them had the burly, muscular frames of seasoned warriors.
“You think you need to trip the leg before you throw someone?” the half-ogre exclaimed. “Why not lift them under the arms and put your hips into it?”
“Not all of us are your size,” retorted a warrior, and the knot of soldiers laughed.
“Maybe not, but it’s still better than risking your feet,” the half-ogre insisted.
Vesma quietly sipped at a cup of wine and rolled her eyes as Kegohr offered his loud opinions on technique. She smiled at me as I approached, and I winked back. She turned to refill her cup and left me to wander.
King Beqai stood nearby with his tentacles sunk deep into one of the pools. The liveliness he’d shown from his meditative state was an enormous contrast to the zen exterior I’d first seen in him. The king drank heartily from a goblet as he recounted stories about his days as a commander fighting campaigns for the Emperor.
Faryn sat on the edge of a pool among the group of the listeners. She dipped her bare feet in the water and laughed along with a group of well-dressed fishfolk who wore badges of office.
It was good to see my old friends enjoying themselves. We needed a breather after the insane day we’d just spent battling monsters and guild members alike. The Depthless Dream and the Resplendent Tears Guild wasn’t far from my mind, but a night off before we made plans to strike back would do us some good.
I walked over to Faryn and sat beside her.
“War is coming,” she said to me.
“The mission for Xilarion seems like it’ll fail,” I said.
“No, it will succeed. Sometimes, preventing greater calamity requires sacrifices. Defeating Horix and retrieving the Depthless Dream will halt the evil that’s already set it motion.”
“That doesn’t sound like Guildmaster Xilarion’s Path of Peace.”
“Yet, that is not your path. Yours is the Path of the Swordslinger.”
I smiled at Faryn, kissed her on the lips, and turned as stringed instruments started to play.
A group of performers spun through the courtyard and soaked up applause from the crowd. They were
as much acrobats as dancers, leaping and twirling across the pools. Ribbons streamed from their belts and created rippling patterns through the air behind them. One of them jumped up onto the shoulders of another two, like cheerleaders forming a pyramid, then leaped gracefully through the air to land with a splash in one of the pools.
“I think she wants to speak with you.” Faryn nodded to my right as the music died down.
I looked at Kumi sitting at another banquet table. The princess met my gaze as the silver scales of her robes caught the light. Her ceremonial dress was far less revealing than her usual attire; long robes opened at the back and bared her shoulders before they swept down, abruptly stopping a few inches from the floor, leaving her feet bare. Coral joined the usual seashells in her braids, and a silver circlet embedded with pearls glittered in the shifting lights above us. She smiled mischievously and nodded toward a corner of the courtyard.
“Do you mind?” I asked Faryn.
“Not at all. I am more than happy to share your company.”
I laughed under my breath and followed after the princess. I scooped up a meaty slice of boar as I passed one of the tables. Spiced marinade gave the pork a sweet edge as I took a bite, and it melted in my mouth.
Kumi sat on one of the stairs leading up to the palace and beamed at me.
“What do you think?” the princess asked me with a sweeping gesture.
“The Qihin definitely know how to celebrate.”
“Father wanted you to feel welcome after he left his meditations.”
I finished the pork, sipped at my wine, and joined her on the carved marble step. “Well, he’s definitely managed it. Are you recovered, after last night?”
The princess laughed. “A little sleep does wonders. You’ve definitely had your share of it today.”
“Guess I needed it. Not sure I was ready for all this enthusiasm, though.” Again, I thought of the war brewing beneath all the celebrations, but I did my best to push it aside for now.
“I want to show you something,” Kumi said as she stood up and beckoned me to follow her.
She opened a small wooden door at the base of the palace walls, and I followed her inside. The sounds of the party faded as the door closed behind us and left us alone in the silence of a tiled corridor.
“Your father said he was going to to reintroduce himself to his courtiers,” I commented. “Did he manage it?”
“This way,” Kumi said. “And yes, thanks to your heroic efforts, they convened a war council. Preparations are already underway.”
I couldn’t help but notice the sway of her hips as she led me deeper into the palace. We entered a circular chamber with shadowy alcoves filled with ferns spilling out of clay pots. A fountain splashed in the center of the room and gave the air a cool, refreshing feel.
“This is my favorite place in the palace,” Kumi said. “It’s so peaceful, you can imagine that there’s no one else in the world. Perhaps this is more to your liking than the atmosphere of a feast?”
“It’s perfect.”
“It’s even more private in here.” The princess took my hand and led me into an alcove with a small stone bench.
Mosaics spilled across the ceiling as the faint sound of crashing waves joined the trickle of the fountain.
I sat beside Kumi on the stone bench and took another sip of the wine to try to calm my accelerated pulse. She filled the small space with the aroma of exotic flowers and the breeze of the ocean.
“I wanted to share this place with someone special.”
“I’m honored.”
“Well, I’m curious about something. Your brides—what was it like when they first journeyed with you? How did you find them?”
“I’m not married,” I said with a laugh.
“But what about Vesma and Faryn’s devotion? I’ve seen the way they are around you, the way they’ve followed you across the mountains to be here.”
“They’re not my brides. Just friends.”
“Just friends?”
“Well, very close friends.”
She laughed again and brushed her fingers against my arm. “I bet you’re good at making close friends, Ethan.” Her face took on a conspiratorial grin. “The sort of friends you lie close with in the night, hot and heavy and writhing with passion. Isn’t that right?”
She removed her hand and held it over her mouth as she giggled.
“Ah, yeah, I suppose you’re right. I am good at making those kinds of friends.”
“Then, you’ll marry them?”
“It’s a bit too soon to think of marriage. Besides, I’d hate to choose between them.”
Kumi frowned at me. “Choose? You enjoy one more than the other?”
“I like them equally,” I said.
“Then, why not marry both?”
A smile tweaked the corner of my lips. “It’s the custom in the Seven Realms to marry multiple people?”
“Not everywhere, and only in certain instances. But a mighty Augmenter requires enough brides to satiate him. Surely, you know of the custom.”
It wasn’t hard to see where this was going. I leaned back and enjoyed the peace of the room. “I’ve never heard of this custom you’re talking about.”
“You must have.”
“I’m not from around here. The Swordslinger gig was open, and I just went for it. No one told me there was a marriage contract that came along with it.”
“The Swordslinger?” Kumi raised an eyebrow. “So, the sword you carry is a spirit weapon, like the Depthless Dream?”
I nodded. “Apparently, I’m meant to collect them all. All the Immense Blades.”
“Then, you will have to wield the Depthless Dream. I doubt Father would allow it.”
I shrugged. “Who knows? I might get it back from Horix, and the king will just hand it over. As a reward.”
“I doubt that very much.”
I let the subject slide and moved on to our previous topic. “So, these brides for powerful Augmenters—do they just hang around and wait for their husband to call on them?”
Kumi winked and took the cup from my hands. “They follow the great Augmenters on their travels, going to places of danger and excitement with them. They are powerful women in their own right, able to stand against dark forces, to aid heroes in fulfilling their destinies.”
“I’m not even sure what my destiny is,” I admitted. “I just train Augmentation and occasionally fight evil when it’s required of me. You know, nine-to-five stuff.”
“Nine-to-five? You are a peculiar man, Ethan. The things you speak of seem so foreign to me. Where you come from—is it on the edge of the world?”
“Something like that.”
Kumi giggled. “I would very much like to see it one day.”
“That might be difficult.”
“No more difficult than the path of the Swordslinger.”
“So, if I’m to be the Immortal Swordslinger, I need to collect all the Immense Blades and roam the world with a large contingent of beautiful and powerful women?” I laughed. “Are you trying to sign up for that?”
Kumi’s eyes sparkled as she gave me a serious expression. “Perhaps I am.”
I reached for my cup of wine, and my fingers lingered on her hand for a moment.
“But not just yet.” She snatched away the cup from my grasp, lifted it above her head, and finished the contents in one big gulp. “I still don’t know whether you’re worthy of a princess. Perhaps I’ll find out in the coming war.”
An idea formed in my head. A way to grow stronger. The means to defeating Horix.
“If we have the time, we should go to a Vigorous Zone. I’m not sure I’ll have time tomorrow. The way things are going, I’m probably going to have to fight a walking island or something.”
“We could go now, under the cover of night.”
I tapped my belt. “I didn’t bring my blade with me. And you’re not dressed for mud, Princess Kumi, if you don’t mind my saying so.”
&nb
sp; “You think I’m afraid of getting a little dirty?”
“So, we’ll run out to the marshes together unarmed, toss monsters around with nothing but Augmentation, and then magically appear back at the feast splattered with mud and starsquid guts?”
A cheeky smile tugged at Kumi’s full lips. “You’ve killed two tidal wyrms in the same day. Surely, this is nothing in comparison to your mighty power, Ethan Murphy lo Pashat.”
Kumi’s deal was a hard one to pass up. If Beqai was serious about making a move against the Resplendent Tears Guild and Horix, I’d need all the powers I could get. Sap was useful in a pinch, but I needed something with a bit more punch. If I could enter the spirit realm and defeat the spirit that combined fire and water, then I’d have the edge I’d need. Those Wild-hating bastards who lived in their frozen tower wouldn’t know what hit them.
“You’re on, Princess,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Kumi skipped excitedly to her feet. “You won’t regret this!”
She led me out of the chamber, along a short corridor, and into a stairwell. It spiraled as we followed it down through the rocky foundation of the palace before we emerged onto the cliffside behind a waterfall. A set of steps snaked out below us, through a sheet of falling water and down to the city gates below.
Kumi kissed my cheek in a blur of dark hair and soft warmth and ran down the stairs two at a time. I grinned as I ran after her, down the moonlit trail to the bottom of the palace. Two guards stood watch at a gate barring the way out.
“Let us through, please!” Kumi shouted as we got close.
The guards jolted in surprise as they turned to see Kumi and I bolt down the staircase. They saw Kumi’s face, snapped to attention, and one hurried to unbolt the gate.
The gate swung open just as Kumi reached it. She ran out into the street, and I pushed to keep up with her. Her bare feet and my sandals slapped against the cobbles and then the dirt streets as we headed away from the heart of the city.
