Heart of Defiance

by Ryan Kirk

  He let his eyes wander over the scene, soaking in the details as they came to him. His eye found a patch of green and he frowned, stepping closer.

  The patch was near the edge of the market square. Delun wondered at that. If the attack had been intentional, wouldn’t the monk have stood directly in the center of the market? He studied the ground with a careful eye. The green patch was a little less than two paces in diameter. All around it, the grass had been stripped from the ground by the power of the blast. This patch, then, was where the attack had come from.

  In a perfect world, he would have been the first person here. He could have tracked footprints, at least for a while, in the dirt. As it was, though, at least a few days had passed, if not more. Delun realized he didn’t know exactly when the attack had happened. Since then, dozens of people had been through the square, erasing much of the evidence Delun desired.

  He looked around, wondering what other information he might find. He wasn’t sure what else there was to learn. A monk had done this—a monk of incredible power. Delun would have assumed he would know of a monk of this strength, but apparently that wasn’t the case.

  Delun was about to speak with Kang, who was also making his rounds of the destroyed market, when he noticed something else. Another patch of undisturbed ground, smaller than the first. The grass would have been easy to miss. It sat in the shade of a building’s foundation, barely visible from most of the destroyed market square. Delun approached it and crouched down. The grass here was undisturbed, and the corner of the foundation stood while the rest of the building had crumbled. He frowned.

  He stood up and turned to Kang. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  The monk’s look of surprise only lasted for a moment. Kang shrugged, as though the information didn’t matter much. “Two of our monks were in town when the incident occurred. Neither of them returned.”

  Delun wanted to yell at the man, but it would do no good. Monasteries had a long history of holding on tightly to their secrets. Sometimes, when one got used to living behind a veil, the practice became ingrained. Still, it burned at him that Kang hadn’t shared the information earlier. The more information Delun had, the more he could uncover.

  “Was either of them capable of something like this?”

  Kang shook his head. “As far as anyone knew, both were fairly weak.”

  Delun took in the entire scene again. “I believe one of your monks might have survived.” He pointed to the ground he stood next to. “Someone set a shield here.”

  Kang strode over and confirmed Delun’s observation. But it only led to another question: if one of the monks had survived, why hadn’t he returned to the monastery?

  “Anything else you care to tell me?” Delun asked.

  “One of the monks wasn’t popular within the monastery. He was considered old and soft by many of us. The other was a young man, filled with promise. There is not much more of them worth noting.”

  Delun nodded. “I’m not sure there is much left to learn here. Shall we visit the girl?” Kang had spoken of there being a survivor in the wreckage, now kept under lock and key in another part of town. The townsfolk suspected her of being involved with the disaster. If nothing else, perhaps she would be able to give a more detailed description of what had happened here.

  Kang agreed, and led the way to the cells.

  Once there, they found a commotion. Men were running back and forth, and horses passed by them, galloping too fast to be safe in town.

  Kang and Delun shared a glance, and Delun gave Kang a small nod. The man was local to the area and would have better luck getting information. Besides that, he was more intimidating than most. The gathering of men would be far more likely to answer his questions than Delun’s.

  They stepped forward and Kang took charge. “What’s going on here?”

  One of the men, older than the rest, stepped forward. Delun assumed he was the elder of the village. “Last night, someone attacked the guard and helped the girl escape. We’ve been searching the area between here and the mountain. Someone just returned with news. A campsite was found, northwest of town, in the woods. There’s no real trail, but it confirms our suspicion. The girl was working with the rebels. I just sent out a group of men to retrieve her.”

  Kang towered over the elder. “And even though you knew of our arrival, you didn’t care to inform the monks of this?”

  Delun had to give Kang’s intimidation credit. The man cowered beneath Kang’s shadow. “I’m sorry. I thought this was something we could handle ourselves. I didn’t want to trouble you.”

  Delun’s eyes narrowed as he watched the exchange. There was an undercurrent here he couldn’t quite place. Like Kang, he had little doubt the elder of the village knew of their arrival. The presence of monks stirred up a commotion even in cities. Here, it would be all anyone would talk about. And yet the town had hoped to hide the escape from the monks. Why? Lack of trust? The involvement of the Golden Leaf?

  There were more mysteries here than answers.

  Kang turned to Delun. “Thoughts?”

  Delun glanced around at the men. Most of the activity in the area had stopped, every eye turned on the monks.

  “It seems to me that any further answers most likely exist with that woman.”

  The elder interrupted. “Masters, if I might suggest an idea? It looks like the fugitives have taken to difficult parts of the woods. My men know the area. Perhaps we can be of assistance.”

  Delun and Kang glanced at one another. A look was enough to know they felt the same. Kang turned back to the elder. “You’re dealing with powers beyond your comprehension, old man. Tell us where the campsite is, and we’ll find that woman.”

  9

  Bai stopped, bent over, and struggled to get air into her lungs. She gasped at the cold mountain air, wondering if she had made the right choice. Was her answer worth this much suffering?

  Night had fallen, and had Bai not been hiking up the mountain with little rest, she probably would have felt the chill of the high air seeping into her bones. But they had charged up the mountains since Bai had woken that afternoon. Occasionally Hien permitted a short break, but they were never long enough. The warrior pushed them hard.

  Bai willed her legs to move, but they wobbled underneath her. About a dozen paces ahead, Hien looked back and saw that Bai had paused again. “Let’s take a break for a bit,” she said.

  Bai nodded, trying to express her gratitude even though she couldn’t get enough air to speak. She knew breathing was more difficult the higher one climbed, but she had never experienced the problem firsthand.

  Hien turned and came to where Bai sat. The action, small as it was, impressed Bai. Had she been in Hien’s shoes, she wouldn’t have given up a single step in elevation. Hien wasn’t even breathing hard. How could she be so strong?

  Bai worried the other woman judged her harshly. Although Bai could make out a thin sheen of sweat on Hien’s forehead, the woman didn’t look nearly as ragged as Bai felt. Even though she was almost twice Bai’s age, she was far stronger. It made Bai cringe, knowing Hien wasn’t exhausted even though she carried the pack.

  They shared a water skin, although Bai noticed she drank considerably more water than Hien. The woman almost didn’t seem to be human.

  Eventually, Bai’s breathing returned to normal. “I think I’m ready to continue.”

  Hien didn’t reply, and Bai looked up to see a concerned look on Hien’s face. The older woman cursed under her breath.

  “What’s wrong?” Bai asked.

  “Someone is following us.”

  Bai couldn’t hide her surprise. “How?”

  Hien didn’t answer the question, and Bai turned to look down the mountain. In the darkness of night, she didn’t see anything. “Where?”

  Hien pointed and Bai followed her finger.

  There, off in the distance, a small point of light danced among the trees. Bai hadn’t noticed it before. As she watched, she could see
that it was coming up the mountain, coming in their direction. It looked a ways away, though.

  Hien shrugged off her pack. “Do you need any more food before we go?”

  Bai debated, then grabbed one strip of dried meat. She wasn’t hungry now, but she figured it couldn’t hurt. Hien handed her the water skin. “We won’t have time to stop for more food or drink. This will need to last most of the night.”

  Bai slung the skin over her shoulder. Her body immediately protested at the added weight, but she didn’t complain. It wasn’t that heavy.

  Bai glanced at the light below once again, wondering how far behind them it was. In the darkness she found it difficult to judge distance.

  When she turned back to Hien, she saw the other woman was stringing a bow. A small quiver was pulled out of the pack and arrows were unwrapped. In a few moments Hien had donned the additional weapons and discarded the rest of the pack. She looked more like a warrior than ever before. Bai couldn’t be sure, but she thought she saw a hint of eagerness in the other woman’s eyes.

  Without a word, the two women resumed their trek up the mountain. Bai had expected Hien to push them harder, but their pace remained unchanged. Every step took them higher, and although Hien glanced down the mountain constantly, Bai could almost convince herself they weren’t being pursued.

  Bai had lost all track of time when they finally stopped to rest again. She was higher than she had ever been, but that was about all she knew. Her world had shrunk to the ground in front of her. All that mattered moment-to-moment was the next step. She placed each one carefully, ignoring the burning pain in her legs as they kept climbing. The trail was steeper now and there was little flat ground to be found.

  “Look over there,” Hien said, pointing.

  Bai looked and saw a cluster of lights, off in the distance and a little below them.

  “That’s the main trail to the pass,” Hien explained. “It looks like the town has sent a number of people after us. They’re waiting. It’s a faster route, and one I’d hoped to take.”

  Hien’s finger traveled down to the other light, directly below them. Bai wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or not, but the light seemed closer. “I think that’s a different group.”

  Bai cursed. She rarely did, as her mother had believed that cursing drew too much attention. But it felt good. “Is everyone after me?”

  Hien gave a grim smile. “Probably. At least in the region.”

  Bai looked up at her, understanding something new about her companion. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

  Hien didn’t answer, but her smile suddenly didn’t seem so grim. She turned and pointed up the mountain. “Can you see our trail and where it leads?”

  Bai studied the mountain. With Hien’s help, she found she could see the trail above. It led to a notch in the rock above them.

  “I want you to follow the trail. Move as quickly as you can. I’ll catch up to you soon.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  Hien gave her a blank look, as though the question needed no answering.

  Bai looked at the bow and understood. Her eyes widened. “What if they’re monks?”

  Hien gave a small shrug. “What if they are?”

  Bai stood openmouthed. She couldn’t believe Hien. Was the woman mad? No one took on the gifted. Those who did had nothing but an early grave waiting for them. And yet she looked as calm as though she had just announced she was going to pick up bread from the market.

  Bai wanted no part of what was coming. With a nod to Hien, she resumed her trek up the trail. Before she’d gotten more than a few steps she heard Hien call after her.

  “Bai?”

  “Yes?”

  “Don’t stop, no matter what.”

  Bai nodded and continued. Hien’s words sounded ominous, but Bai refused to think about them. Hien was competent. Whatever she had planned, she wasn’t going to sacrifice her life for Bai’s.

  At least Bai hoped not.

  She grimaced and pushed up the trail. At first, she tried to pick up her pace. The notch above her was where she would find her answers. All she had to do was reach it. But the trail became a series of switchbacks, and although the notch looked close, she quickly realized there was plenty of distance to go. She now understood the wisdom in Hien’s slow but steady approach.

  As she pushed higher, she wanted nothing more than to stop and rest, but Hien’s words kept coming back to her. One step at a time, she ascended the trail. Occasionally she found the energy to look below, but there was little to see. The night wasn’t perfectly dark, but even with the sliver of moon and the stars, Bai couldn’t see anyone below. The light, which had once indicated their pursuit, was gone.

  She had too many questions. She understood almost nothing of what was happening. All she could do was keep pushing forward. Keep pushing forward and hope.

  Bai heard the sound of feet behind her, and Hien reappeared. If possible, she looked even more concerned than before. Regardless, Bai’s heart leaped when she saw the other woman.

  “What happened? Did you kill someone?” Bai realized how harsh her voice sounded, and wished she could take the words back. But Hien didn’t seem to notice.

  “I don’t think so.” She studied the ground below them. “I think those are monks.”

  Bai’s heart stopped. “Are you sure?”

  “I think my first shot was high. My second was good, but it stopped before it hit them.”

  Bai squeezed her eyes tightly together, willing her life to be different. This couldn’t be happening, not to her. No one attacked the monks, and no one did it with the casual indifference that Hien possessed. Why wasn’t she afraid? She almost sounded disappointed she hadn’t killed a monk.

  “Keep moving,” the other woman said. “We’re almost there, but I think I angered our pursuit.”

  Bai obeyed, not knowing what else to do.

  Far below them, the mountain exploded without warning. Rock shattered and cracked, the sound assaulting Bai’s ears, all the more painful in the silence of the night. Before she could even decide what to do, Bai had curled into the fetal position.

  A hand grabbed roughly at her cloak and hauled her to her feet with an ease she wouldn’t have thought possible.

  “Run!” Hien shouted.

  For two long heartbeats, Bai stood there, frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening.

  Again, rock suddenly cracked. This time, the sound came from directly below them. Imagining the path collapsing, Bai finally ran. She cursed as she came to the next switchback. Looking up, she saw the notch just four turns above them. So close, and yet they ran back and forth, targets for those below.

  Another wave of energy slammed against the rock, this time in front of them. Bai swore she could feel it. A small section of trail collapsed, falling hundreds of feet to a gentler slope below. Bai had no trouble imagining that being her body.

  “You have to jump,” Hien said.

  The gap wasn’t large—no more than a pace or two at most. But they were high, and the path narrowed the higher they got. Bai knew she could jump the gap, but terror froze her feet in place.

  She heard the twang of a bowstring behind her, and she turned around to see Hien aiming down the mountain. “They’re catching up, Bai. We don’t have much time.”

  Even now, Hien’s voice was steady.

  Bai looked up. For the first time, she realized that even the notch above might not provide the safety she thought it would. The monks behind them wouldn’t give up. The thought was almost enough to sink her to her knees in resignation.

  Then Hien’s bow sang again and Bai suddenly felt ashamed of herself. This woman had risked her life—was risking her life—to save Bai. She at least deserved Bai’s best effort.

  Before she could convince herself otherwise, Bai ran up the switchback, leaping over the gap and landing clumsily on the other side. She turned around to see Hien right behind her, clearing the short gap with ease. Another
attack hit behind them, widening the gap another foot. Now Bai was less certain she would have been able to jump it.

  Fear gave her legs the energy she needed. They made it to another switchback and then another. Bai didn’t look behind her or down the mountain, her eyes focused only on reaching the top.

  The path seemed strangely silent. Bai shouted back at Hien. “Why aren’t they attacking?”

  “I don’t know and I don’t care,” Hien replied. “Keep moving!”

  Suddenly, they were at the top. Bai hadn’t even realized they were on the last rise. Granite crags rose up on both sides of them, but a flat, narrow trail ran between the rocks. Bai had never been overjoyed by flat ground before, but she was now.

  The trail was narrow, barely wide enough for two people to pass shoulder to shoulder. Hien squished around Bai and led the way. They had barely made it a dozen paces when a man stepped in front of them, coming around a bend. His pace was quick, but he looked surprisingly calm.

  What Bai didn’t understand, though, was how bright he looked. She didn’t have any other words to describe it. As Hien passed, a look traveled between them. The man nodded, and Hien pulled Bai through.

  Bai twisted her head to get one last look at the man before they turned the bend. He stood peacefully about twenty paces from the summit, waiting for the monks. She realized then that he was waiting for a fight with some of the strongest people in the empire.

  And he had been smiling.

  10

  Delun held the arrow in his hand, studying it. The deadly shaft was a reminder that for all their strength, monks weren’t invincible. He hadn’t had any premonition that he was in danger. They had been hiking quickly up the mountain, following an intermittent sense of power high above them. An arrow had suddenly split the air between them, and Delun had barely gotten a shield up in time to stop the second. The second shot had struck his barrier no more than a second after he formed it, the arrowhead a mere hand’s width from his chest.

  Whoever was above them was an incredible shot, and quick with a bow. Since the attack, Delun and Kang had taken turns holding a shield above them. When one got tired, the other took over. The idea had been Kang’s, and he seemed to have some experience coordinating his actions with other monks. Delun made a note of the fact for later. Most monks tended to work alone.