Viroj tightened the girth on the new mule one last time, and stepped back to admire his handiwork. It had been his idea to get a second animal for the journey up the Zhú-Zu River to its source at Loushang Mountain; and necessary as it turned out. His other idea, the arrangement of bamboo poles with two open-topped casks on either side, would certainly have over-burdened Edain’s poor mule, Va-Halk. Now, they could actually relieve that beast of a bit of its original load since K’hor-Wen (the name had come to him in a dream) could handle more weight than just the yoked barrels, even after those were filled with water.
If one were going to be transporting a magical, talking carp up a mountainside to ask favors of a golden dragon, Viroj felt strongly that one should do it in style. He’d considered adding some paint and maybe a nice bit of metal fretwork to the repurposed water casks but, as Edain had gently pointed out last night, they had neither the time nor the funds to waste. In any case, the Pona Hanni was sure that Zhú Zu would appreciate the accommodations when she needed them, humble as they might be.
His contraption had been the last piece of gear to be put in place, and the merry band of wanderers, as Viroj liked to think of their unconventional crew, set out for Yaohima an hour past sunrise on 29 Byan. As before, the first day’s travel though Kirai’an’s hinterland of farms, orchards, small hamlets, and larger villages went quickly and without notable incident (if you didn’t count the matter of the drover, the flock of vicious geese, and the fancy lady’s palanquin). The same small inn in a largish village accommodated them again their first night out. Viroj was pleased to find that night that he was well-remembered there, when the same charming serving wench slipped into his room again…
They spent the second night of the journey once again camped on the ridge overlooking the southern reaches of the Bamboo Sea. The sunset this time, however, was mostly lost in the heavy overcast of the day, only a few golden-red rays breaking through just as Azima touched the horizon. Khatia managed to bag a yearling piglet from a sounder of wild boar before the light was gone, and Viroj rather thought he’d outdone himself with its roasting, if he said so himself. He’d even managed bacon, of a sort, the next morning, to his companion’s pleased surprise.
The third day was rainy with only occasional, and short-lived, sun breaks for most of it. Even when it wasn’t actively raining, cold water dripped from the endless leaves of the bamboo forest to assure they never really dried out. Viroj wasn’t surprised when Khatia called a halt in the mid-afternoon as the showers finally began to taper off.
“We’ve agreed that it’s best to keep the actual purpose of our journey to ourselves,” she said as she shook the water from her cloak and automatically checked to see that her bowstrings were dry. “Most especially the bit about the magical river spirit in the form of a talking carp. Staying overnight again in Yaohima will make that more difficult, I think. I suggest we call it a day and make camp now, so we can arrive at the hamlet early tomorrow morning.”
“I suppose that would limit the need to lie,” Edain sighed. Viroj knew the lad disliked even the simple deception of his incognito, never mind outright deception. But he wasn’t stupid, and understood the need for occasional… misdirection… in life. Especially life on the road.
“Indeed,” he agreed, giving the taller man a hearty slap on the back. “And less chance of Snow Crow here slipping up in song or verse, right?”
The young troubadour refused to rise to the bait, merely rolling his eyes as he pulled his pack off of Va-Halk and rummaged in it for dry clothing. “You know,” he said as he pulled off his damp tunic, “it occurs to me that maybe we should have asked a bit more about this “river spirit”… in case we’re being played, I mean.”
“Too late, at this point, I suppose,” Edain shrugged, opening his own pack… and carefully not looking at Snow Crow’s slim, muscular torso, Viroj noted with an inward smile. And he saw that Sujia pinked up a bit herself, darting a quick look at their half-naked companion before looking away with a determined lift of her chin.
“Of course we are being played,” she said diffidently. “I have always assumed the carp is really the dragon, and that she needs us to get her back to the focus of her power so she may regain her true, dragon form. Didn’t anyone else notice her reaction when I quoted the old saying about the carp leaping through the Dragon’s Gate and transforming into a dragon?”
Edain was apparently the only one who hadn’t heard the very common folk saying before, Viroj realized. Not surprising of course, given his foreign origins… and to be honest, he’d missed the connection himself. It was such a common-place, generally used to illustrate the idea that an individual’s great effort can lead to life-changing transformation, that he hadn’t even thought to relate it to the current situation. For all that she was self-effacing so much of the time, there was a lot going on in young Sujia’s head…
“It could be,” Snow Crow agreed. “If she is actually the dragon, then it makes sense in a way, I suppose…”
“Or she could be just what she says she is,” Khatia interjected as she pulled the larger of the two tents off Va-Halk. “It’s not an unreasonable guess, Sujia, but when dealing with supernatural entities it’s probably best to just go along with what they claim. At least until we have some solid proof of deception.”
Discussion on the subject continued as they set up camp and prepared supper, but by the time everyone was ready to retire, it was generally agreed that Khatia was probably right. Besides, Viroj thought as he settled in for the first watch, what practical difference did it make in terms of their own actions, at least at this point?
•••••
Khatia was a little on edge the next morning as they approached the hamlet of Yaohima. While its inhabitants were nice enough folk, she wasn’t sure how they’d react to the very overt supernatural element of their current quest. The last thing she wanted was to have to fend off superstitious yokels trying to stop them out of misguided fear… or for their own good.
As it turned out, her concerns mostly unfounded. As she’d hoped, by the time the group arrived at the hamlet, most people were about their daily tasks – tending to their few crops or the bamboo that was their mainstay, feeding livestock, mending tools or clothes – the usual for peasant life. Most folk they did see were surprised, if pleased, to see the strangers again so soon, but didn’t stop what they were doing beyond a wave and a smile.
Fa-Huan, however, set aside his sharpening of a wicked-looking scythe to formally greet them. “What brings you back so soon, honored ones?” he inquired, after he’d seen them all seated and offered refreshments, which they’d politely declined.
“We are heading further up the Zhú-Zu, beyond Songxi,” Edain said. As the nominal head of their little group, Khatia was generally pleased to leave these social interactions to him. Strategy was certainly his prerogative… as long as he deferred to her on the tactical decisions, of course… which he mainly did. He was surprisingly good at delegating the right job to the right person, she’d found, and then trusting them to do it.
At the headman’s surprised look he added, “We feel it’s important to find out what really happened that night five years ago. Was the Guardian of Loushang Mountian responsible, as the rumors you’ve heard suggest? Or are other rumors we’ve heard, involving poor engineering, mismanagement, and official malfeasance true? Either is unsettling, in their own way, and the truth is always better than uncertainty.”
“That is wisdom, reverend one,” Fa-Huan sighed, frowning. “But I fear for your safety on such a journey. Aside from a possibly angry, or maybe mad, dragon at the end, the lands between here and the mountain have grown wild since that night. Dangerous beasts are rumored to have made their way into the hills to the north, and the Yanduvai Gorge has always had a strange reputation. Is there no other way?”
“I’m afraid not,” Edain said, turning on the charm. “But we appreciate your concern, sir, and promise to take every precaution. I think you know what we are capable of, yes?”
The older man had found himself nodding and agreeing, with a resigned smile on his weathered face. Khatia had notice that when Edain really tried, almost no one could resist his charismatic grin… even she was affected, she thought wryly. Although she was getting better at moderating it, with prolonged exposure. And it certainly did come in handy, as now. Fa Huan accepted his guests’ reassurances, and rose to see them off.
“I hope that all goes as well as you plan,” he said at the hamlet’s edge, pulling Edain briefly aside, only Khatia within hearing. “And if it does, might I ask a great favor of you? To watch for any sign of the fate of my lost son, Fa Zhon?
“We know he must be dead, but being unable to perform the rites, to have his remains at rest here in his home, has been a great sorrow to his mother.” He paused for a moment, then bowed his head. “And to me as well. Even knowing the worst would be better than this uncertainty.”
“Of course, sir,” Edain said gravely. “We will certainly do everything we can to bring you any word, even if we can’t promise a body.”
The older man accepted this promise with a deep bow, then turned back to his home and his tasks. The companions continued on down the narrow path running beside the burbling Little Sister Creek to where it joined its larger sister, some 100 yards beyond the tiny settlement. There was a wide, rocky clearing there, open to the cloudy sky. The occasional sun breaks sparkled on the waters, very different from the usual dappled green dimness when the waters ran beneath the bamboo forest.
“So, do we just call ‘here fishie, fishie, fishie,’ or what?” Snow Crow asked after they’d stood there for several minutes, feeling increasingly foolish.
“I am not sure,” Sujia replied drily, “that is a sufficiently respectful way to summon a magical, talking carp, who might actually be—“
“Right here!” the familiar piping trill of Zhú Zu came from almost directly at their feet. The large, shining gold and white carp looked, if anything, even more beautiful than she had when they’d first met her. Her glittering head poking above the dark water, whiskers rippling gracefully as she spoke, Khatia had forgotten how luminous those large black eyes were. And how full of intelligence… but the intelligence of a river spirit, or tamu? Or of a transformed dragon?
“I’m so glad you have returned, my friends,” the shimmering fish went on, wiggling enthusiastically. “Am I correct in assuming you have agreed to undertake my commission to bring me safely to Loushang Mountain and the Dragon’s Gate to seek my old friend, the Guardian Jin Zhi? But of course you have! Silly to think you would have come all this way just to tell me no!”
“Your logic is flawless, beautiful and wise Zhú Zu,” Edain said, and Khatia admired his ability to keep a straight face. They’d all agreed, talking about it over the camp fire each evening, that river spirit or dragon, one could never go too far wrong in lavishing praise onto supernatural beings. “We have indeed come to help you achieve your goal, and your true form… and receive the reward you have promised us when we fulfill that duty.”
“Ah, yes,” the carp replied… a bit less enthusiastically, or was that Khatia’s imagination? “For each of you, one wish… a wish that is within my power to grant, of course. I’m a river tamu, after all, not one of the yagoi.
“For which you should be grateful!” she giggled, and did one of her signature back-flips, splashing Edain’s feet. “Shall we begin? The day is young, but we have far to go!”
“We have prepared a method of transport for you, noble spirit,” Viroj said before Edain could answer, pulling forward the mule with his fish-carry contraption on its back. He unlatched one of the buckets and knelt at the river’s edge to show the carp and to fill it with water. “I designed and built it myself!”
“Oh dear,” Zhú Zu said, clearly surprised. She showed no immediate desire to leap into the now water-filled container. “What a… clever man you are, Mekha Viroj! And so thoughtful, too. I hope you won’t be offended if I decline to take advantage of it just yet, however…”
Khatia carefully hid her smile at the crestfallen look that briefly flashed across the Moon Monk’s round, bearded face before he regained his usual jovial demi-smirk. She really shouldn’t laugh – it was a truly good idea, and he had worked hard on it – but the way he’d been going on about it the last four days, you’d have thought he’d invented the wheel.
Zhú Zu must have noticed his disappointment as well, because she quickly added “But I will certainly be glad for it as we go on, especially when we reach the wild rapids of Yanduvai Gorge! You must have been inspired by Kai Yi himself to have come up with it so quickly.”
Mollified by this, Viroj dumped the water back into the river and reattached the bucket to the poles with only a little sigh. The humans turned to follow the still half-overgrown road that followed the west side of the river course, while Zhú Zu swam near the bank, leaping and calling out to them every few minutes. The dim greenness of the great Bamboo Sea soon closed in around them again, and Snow Crow and Zhú Zu sang duets together, or sometimes at one another, as the miles passed.
A little over two hours of pleasant travel brought them once more to the shores of the small lake that had formerly been the village of Songxi. It was a little less than a tenday since they’d left the place, and yet already little evidence of the former settlement remained. Only three buildings still stood amidst the dark waters now – the Ancestors’ House, on its raised stone base, like a small island; the Watchtower, with it’s own foundation of stone set atop the village’s highest point; and the Temple of Songxi, the only building made almost entirely of stone, the eaves of it’s two short towers 15 feet above the surface. While much of the bamboo that had still grown, even half drowned, seemed to have been reabsorbed, an abundance of water lilies in a riot of colors remained in great swathes across the lake.
The group paused for a few moments of respectful silence, in memory for the lost souls that had once haunted the spot – and, at least for Khatia, to make sure no echo of the grief and rage that had bound them remained. To her relief, she sensed nothing but the stillness and rightness of nature there now. Still, she was as happy as the others to move on around the lake and grateful that it was too early in the day to even consider making camp near its shore.
Of course getting around the lake slowed them considerably, as the old road had passed through the village and was now as drowned as it. It took over an hour of pushing, and occasionally hacking, through the bamboo forest to finally reconnect with the path as it emerged from the water on the far side of the lake, to find Zhú Zu waiting for them. She’d seemed as anxious as the humans to get past the lake, perhaps moreso since she would have to swim through it. Khatia had thought the carp was considering Viroj’s buckets for a moment, but in the end she had just taken a deep breath darted out into the lake.
Although it was past midday by the time they reconnected, by silent agreement they pressed on, more quickly now, to put some real distance between Songxi and themselves before stopping for lunch. After that the land began to rise to either side of the river course, becoming more hilly, and they passed several waterfalls and minor rapids. Zhú Zu navigated these with, well, supernatural ease, Khatia noticed. Viroj noticed as well, but just shrugged when their eyes met after the magic carp almost flew up a 15-foot water fall.
The next day continued on much the same, with the land gradually rising and becoming rougher, the river narrower and swifter, and the road more notional. The flood that had roared down the river course five years ago must have scoured the river bed and the slopes to either side for a considerable distance, Khatia thought. But five years was enough time, in a sea of fast-growing bamboo, to erase almost any trace of even a cataclysm so great. Only the human-made road still showed obvious signs of the damage done that night, littered with rocky debris, overgrown in many places, and washed out completely in others.
At Zhú Zu’s suggestion the humans made camp a little earlier the second night out from Yaohima than they might otherwise have done. In a wide clearing, with a deep and calm pool for her, they set up camp as she explained her reasoning.
“We are very near the mouth of the Yanduvai Gorge now – perhaps another two hours march for you. As you have seen, the– my river grows wilder and swifter now, and will only grow more so within the gorge. While I could swim it, it is becoming exhausting even for me, trapped in this form as I am. So, dear Viroj, tomorrow when we set out I would very much appreciate the use of your clever conveyance, if it’s not too much trouble.”
“Of course, noblest of tamu,” the Moon Monk replied, bowing deeply. “It will be my very great pleasure to accommodate you, and no trouble at all.”
Well, no trouble for you, Khatia thought wryly. But I’m not so sure K’hor-Wen would agree.
• • • • •
As Sujia prepared breakfast the next morning she was pleased to see clear sky above her, pale with the as-yet unseen, in this deep river valley, light of dawn. The last several days, while thankfully dry, had been consistently cool and cloudy, with only occasional sun breaks. Now it looked to finally be a decent, sunny day, and she could feel her spirits rise at the prospect.
They lifted even more at the first sip of her special tea. Its sharp, astringent bite sent a shiver of pleasure through her whole body, and she could feel her tension wash away. It was to brew this treat in privacy, the gift of her beloved mentor, that Sujia made sure she was up first, and in charge of the morning fire, every fifth day or so when they were on the road. It was much easier when they were at an inn, of course, but even so she managed… although perhaps for not for much longer.
She had made the special tea last almost twice as long as Abbas Fyang Yu had said it might, by carefully using only the absolute minimum of the dried leaves as she could and still invoke its soothing effects. But this morning she’d taken stock, and doubted she could get three more cups from what was left. She had tried to spread it out, sipping it only once a tenday rather than twice, but the nightmares began to return all too soon… she’d never made it past the seventh day before needing the soothing relief again. She could only pray that she might find more of the tea in the next large city they visited… but that was a worry for another day, and for now there was work to do…
After a quick breakfast she helped Viroj fill the buckets of his carp-carrying contraption and settle the whole thing on the back of the mule. K’hor-Wen craned his neck back and gave her a doleful look as she tightened the last strap, but only sighed with equine resignation and went back to chewing bamboo shoots. A most phlegmatic beast she thought, giving his flank an approving pat.
Edain lifted Zhú Zu from the river and quickly plopped her into one of the containers, whereat she promptly leaped out, over the back of the mule, and into the other one. She poked her head out of the water and explained, seeing the Pona Hanni’s surprised look. “This one will be closer to my river, and I like to stay as close as possible to my… true body, as it were. But it is nice to have a choice!”
The magical carp’s estimate the day before had been spot on — two hours after they began the days march the companions reached the southern end of the Yanduvai Gorge. The countryside had been growing ever steeper and rougher beneath its endless cover of bamboo, the path beginning to take more circuitous routes away from the river course and then back to accommodate the terrain. Now, ahead of them, sheer walls of terraced rock soared up out of the swaying greenery to both sides of the river, and it took Sujia’s breath away.
The flat river country around her home village of Hejiagou [hedge-EE-ah-gow], and later the great expanses of the city of Kyenin, had accustomed a young Sujia to the wide open skies of the flatlands. Her first true experience of mountains had come when honorable Fyang Yu had brought her to Tahara-Li and the vast, sky-blocking range on whose knees it sat. She had been stunned then, and she still thrilled at the sight of rugged, hilly lands, never tiring of their endless variety. This gorge was exceptionally beautiful, she thought, and quite worth the effort it had taken to get here. While bamboo still predominated, other varieties of trees clung to the cliff sides and crowded along the many shelves and terraces that broke up the rocky walls.
The road wound up the hills and into the gorge on its west side, eventually leveling out perhaps a hundred feet above the narrow, swift-running river as it roared around boulders and over deep falls in the canyon below. Another hundred feet of rocky granite wall rose to their left, always steep where it wasn’t sheer. The road, to Sujia’s initial surprise, became much better as they travelled further into the gorge.
“No doubt because the flood from the burst dam never reached this high,” Khatia suggested, when she voiced her surprise. “Not quite, anyway. If you look closely, I think you can see the mark along the opposite wall where the high water line was.”
Her friend was right, of course, and Sujia was suddenly taken by how truly terrifying that flood must have been — the mark was not many feet below the level of the path they trod. A hundred foot wall of water had roared down this canyon that night, and while it had spread out and lessened in height once past the gorge’s mouth, the volume hadn’t changed… poor Songxi had never stood a chance.
The sun was finally high enough in the sky to cast a strip of golden light along the clifftop above them when a sudden roar echoed across the canyon and brought the group to a sudden halt. Just in time, as a boulder almost four feet across flew from their left, barely missing Viroj, who had been taking point just then. The rock hit the edge of the cliff to the right of the path and bounded off into space, arcing down toward the river. Any sound it made hitting the water was drowned out by the general, echoing roar of the river in the canyon — and a second, more bestial roar from their left.
A second, even larger boulder hit the narrow path, causing the Moon Monk to leap back, almost knocking over Edain. He drew his sword and shook it at something Sujia couldn’t see from her position in their single-file marching order.
“Hey!” he yelled, brandishing his weapon furiously and looking left and up. “There are people walking here!”
A surprised grunt, very deep, came from that direction, but no more boulders. Zhú Zu’s voice piped up from behind Sujia, who was leading the mule carrying the carp. “Oh dear, I suppose I should have mentioned Jian Li before now,” she said, sounding embarrassed. “I wasn’t sure he’d survived the flood, to be honest, but by the sound of it… well, please don’t be alarmed by his looks! No need for blades, good monk — he may be an ogre, but he’s a very special ogre, and not a threat to us. Not unless we threaten him, that is.”
By this time the whole group had moved forward, following Viroj and Edain, to see what had got the Kwan Kari monk so worked up. The cliff face turned sharply inward at that point, forming a crevasse about 15 feet wide, but narrowing quickly as it clove back into the rock wall. The floor of the cleft rose up as it narrowed, ending in a large cave mouth about twenty feet in and ten feet above them. In that dark opening stood a figure that quite took Sujia’s breath away.
Jian Li, as their carp guide had named him, was indeed an ogre — easily seven feet tall, massively muscled, with skin as red as a temple roof, and a bestial face framed by black hair along his jaw and chin. The long, thick black hair on his head was pulled back tight into a tail contained by a bronze ring, and two massive, bull horns curved wickedly up from either side of his forehead. His ears were large and pointed, his eyes black and deep set beneath thick brows, while his nose and mouth were almost muzzle-like. He was clad only in a worn and frayed kilt-like garment that barely contained his massive thighs, held fast by a wide, ornate belt of bronze and tooled leather. Elaborate leather sandals, carved bronze bracers, and a jeweled pendant around his massive neck were his only adornments.
Sujia had never met another being who exuded such pure, absolute, and apparently self-unconscious masculinity. “Who knew ogres had perfect 8-packs,” she murmured to Khatia, who could only shake her head in equally stunned agreement.
“No need for the blade, good monk – an adherent of the worthy Kai Yi, if I read your robes aright, yes?” the ogre said, his deep baritone sending a shiver straight down Sujia’s spine to her … well never mind to where. If the looks on their faces were any indication, it had done the same to most of the others. Only Viroj seemed unruffled by the creature’s powerful presence… although he did lower his sword – in surprise, if nothing else.
“I do apologize for endangering you with my rather vigorous rock-tossing,” Jian Li went on, “inadvertent as it was, I assure you. You are the first travelers along this path in almost five years, I’m afraid, and thus quite unexpected. Still, it’s good to see people again… a sentiment that is, to be frank, equally unexpected.”
“And why is that unexpected?” Edain asked, when Viroj just stood there looking uncharacteristically uncertain.
“Well, one does not choose to live as a hermit, in a remote and difficult to reach canyon in the heart of the Bamboo Sea, if one is an extrovert. I do enjoy my solitude, but without my books and maps, five years alone is a bit much even for me. The surprise is that I’m only just now realizing it. But tell me, please, what brings such an odd collection of people on such a dangerous road as this one has become?”
As usual, Edain took up the task of spokesperson and gave the unexpectedly erudite ogre a brief, if succinct, recounting of the events of the past tenday, including their meeting and agreeing to help a magical talking fish. Sujia introduced Zhú Zu, who was gracious but unusually subdued – the loquacious carp had chatted merrily with one or another of the humans almost the entire trip so far, but now seemed almost tongue-tied. Sujia wondered if she was as affected by Jian Li’s overpowering maleness as much as she was.
“The spirit of the river?” the ogre asked, speaking directly to Zhú Zu. “I’ve lived here 80 years now… how is it I’ve never been aware of you before now?”
“I seldom manifest in a way you could see,” the carp said diffidently, somehow manifesting the impression of a shrug. “My current predicament should make it obvious why that is. But if you have not been aware of me, I have certainly been aware of you, my good ogre, at least from a distance. Jin Zhi has spoken of you to me as well.”
“Hmmm. Strange that the reverse is not true,” Jian Li mused. “Still, a dragon is discreet, if nothing else, and I am sure there are many things she has not shared with me over the years. Just as I trust she has not shared my own secrets with others.
“But where are my manners? Here I am, keeping my first guests in years standing on my doorstep, when you must be weary and ready for the mid-day meal. It’s almost noon, will you not stop awhile with me, and join me in a repast? I’m afraid the accommodations I can offer are not what they once would have been, but what I have I share freely.”
After a brief hesitation, mostly on Viroj’s part (Sujia thought he wasn’t entirely convinced that an ogre’s invitation to lunch didn’t mean they were meant to be the lunch), the group followed their host into the cave. After securing the mules Viroj followed last, with Zhú Zu strapped to his back in one of her barrels.
Once past the narrow entrance, the cave widened out into a fair-sized vestibule of sorts. To the right another opening led down, curving to the left as it descended. This corridor, as Sujia decided to think of it, seemed hand-hewn from the rock, its walls rawer than those of the cave. It seemed to spiral downward as if around some central point, until finally it debouched into a cavern perhaps twice the size of the vestibule above.
This area was obviously set up as a crude living area for Jian Li, with a large arrangement of furs in one nook serving as his bed, a rough table lashed together by vines in the center, and a small hearth in another, smaller nook where a narrow crack in the stone allowed smoke to rise up out of the cave. A large slab of wood near the table, cut from the bole of a single tree, served as the only seating Sujia could see. The hearth fire and a medium-sized glowstone set in the center of the table provided dim, but sufficient, light.
“Please forgive the crudity of my current accommodations,” Jian Li sighed as he ushered his visitors into the space. “I have had to make do as best I can these last five years as I slowly – oh, so very slowly – dig my way back to my true home. I can see you have questions, but let us eat and I can tell you the tale as we do.”
The travelers had carried their own mess kits down with them, Snow Crow having correctly surmised that a hermit, ogre or otherwise, was unlikely to have any great store of plates, cups or cutlery – certainly not enough to serve six. A large pot of some sort of vegetable stew was bubbling over the fire, and smelled delicious, although when Khatia offered up the remains of the venison from her last hunt to add to the pot, the ogre very politely declined.
“I appreciate the offer,” he said, with a slight bow, “but I have been strictly vegetarian these past 80 years… well, if you don’t count eggs and the occasional cheese. I hope this won’t be a problem, but if you feel the need for meat, I won’t be offended.”
They had all agreed the stew would be just fine as it was… and once their host had dished it out into their various plates Sujia, at least, thought it was better than fine. Indeed, it was perhaps one of the best-tasting dishes she’d ever had, a blend of flavors that was complex and rich and hard to describe. Of course, maybe it was just the fact that she had been eating mostly trail rations for the last several days… but she didn’t really think so, as she scraped her bowl for the last little bits and wondered if it would be unmannerly to lick it clean.
“Eighty-five years ago, I was not as you see me now. I was a young ogre, just ten years from the egg, and in the first flush of maturity. Even then, though, I was different from my cousins, I think. Certainly less inclined to the rages and violence of our kind, and more… introspective, I suppose, whatever that means for an ogre. What it meant for me was that I lost my first fight over territory and a female. Lost to that standard-issue ogre, Rik H’ona… and I hope Shin Ri made him miserable. Licking my wounds, and maybe secretly relieved, I wandered far seeking something I couldn’t put a name to. Eventually I found myself in the Bamboo Sea, and within the bounds of the guardianship of Jin Zhi, although I didn’t know it at the time, of course.
“I first met the golden dragon Guardian of Loushang Mountain on a spring day when I was hunting my next meal. Which in the event was a beautiful Loshing bird… you’ve likely never seen one, as they are native to this region and very rare. Multihued feathers like a rainbow, golden beaks, and silver eyes, they’re about the size of a pheasant… hardly more than two mouthfuls for me, but I was very hungry at that point. Just as I was about to bite the poor thing’s head off, Jin Zhi appeared in the air over me.
“Please don’t eat my feathered friend, ogre,” she said to me in that beautiful, rich soprano I would come to know so well. “She has chicks in her nest, and there are so few of her kind left, I fear for the survival of the species. Will you not let her go?”
“Honestly, I barely understood some of those words, but I did get the gist of what she was asking. Now, to you the course of action when you find a dragon hovering over you and asking you to do something might seem obvious. Not necessarily so to an ogre. Certainly that stone-head Rik H’ona would have simple gobbled down the bird and attacked the dragon; and died shortly thereafter, no doubt. I felt that urge, but I also felt something else… awe, I realized much later, for something so much greater than I was.
“I released the bird, which I think actually surprised Jin Zhi. She had expected me to react like any other of my kind, and had simply been going through the motions, which her own morality dictated, of giving me a chance. To her credit, she thanked me, and then asked for my story – the first time any creatures had ever taken an interest. We talked for an hour that day, before she pointed me to some particularly tasty root vegetables and flew off to her home. I must have impressed her, though, for the next day she returned. We talked some more, and she gave me an amulet… I put it on, and the world changed, forever.
“My mind expanded in an instant, and it was like the scales fell away from my eyes. I suddenly understood – well, how little I had previously understood, and how much more there was to the world than I had ever imagined. I was quite stunned. Jin Zhi understood, and she helped me through that difficult transition from barely-able-to-walk-and-talk-at-the-same-time to a truly sentient thinker. Her second gift to me that day was my first book, which she used to teach me to read, and eventually to write.
“In time, with her help and guidance, I mastered book and brush, and began to build myself a library, using intermediaries to find and purchase books for me in the cities of men. I have read the great masters of philosophy, history, science, magic, and metaphysics. And geography, a particular favorite of mine. With this body, and the prejudices of most Umantari, it is not easy for me to travel, as you can imagine – but in books, I have visited every land from the islands of Shoidan to the Archipelago of Oceania.
“It was my love of geography and travel that led me to maps, both the studying and the making of them. It is through my map making, primarily, that I acquire the funds to fuel my book-buying addiction. I understand that the maps of the Hermit of Yanduvai Gorge are very much in demand in many cities of Ty Kyen and beyond.”
“Wait, you’re the famed Hermit of Yanduvai?” Viroj burst out. “I’ve bought a map or two of yours myself, in my travels. They are exceptionally accurate! But I heard rumors last year, in Pandari… they say no new maps have come in years, and that the Hermit must be dead.”
“Ah, I was afraid of that,” the ogre said, shaking his head sadly. “Since the night the dam was destroyed I have been unable to contact my sources in the outside world, even if I could reach my library and scriptorium.”
“Yes, you mentioned something of that earlier,” Sujia said. “I take it this is not your usual abode, then?”
“Indeed not, young monk,” Jian Li replied. “My home for many years has been an ancient edifice buried deep in the walls of the gorge. Shown to me by Jin Zhi, who says it was built long ago by the Shíou Jūmí [SHE-ow joo-mee] and abandoned by them an age past, it suited me perfectly. Room enough for me, my books and maps, and my scriptorium where I could write and draft at leisure… growing chambers for mushrooms as well, and for other subterranean plants favored by the ancient stone-dwellers, to keep me fed. From there I carried on correspondences with scholars and wise folk from many lands, created my maps, and wrote a book or two of my own… under pseudonyms, of course.
“That all ended the night of the flood. I was awakened by the shaking of the earth, for although the Shíou Jūmí build well, I felt the tremors nonetheless. Grabbing a glowstone, I headed up through the caves to my entrance hall, as I call it, and stepped outside — into a raging storm! I was just in time to see a wall of water roaring down the canyon, carrying earth and stones and trees in a terrible maelstrom. I feared for my life then, and retreated back to the mouth of the cave, only for another tremor to bring it crashing down almost on top of me. For a moment I despaired, trapped between two deaths. But the floodwaters never quite reached me… it was close thing, though, a matter of feet.
“To make an already long story shorter, I have spent the last five years digging out the entrance to my home. In the beginning, I traveled up the gorge to try and learn what happened and to speak with my old friend. But Jin Zhi was silent, the Umantari settlers gone, and Imperial Rangers were murdering any survivors – why I couldn’t imagine, but I wished no part of that. So I scavenged what I could, quietly, and retreated back here to begin the long, dreary task of trying to regain my sanctuary, stone by stone…”
Sujia was impressed. “At, say, ten stones a day such as we just saw, that means you must have removed… over 10,000 stones so far,” she said, quickly doing the maths in her head. “How much more do you have to go, do you think?”
“Your calculations are not far off,” Jian Li sighed. “And I would have achieved my goal a year ago, if not for that!” He gestured sharply at the far wall of the chamber, which appeared to be of a different type of stone than the rest of the cavern. “A great plug of granite, somehow here in the matrix of limestone that makes up most of the gorge, collapsed like a portcullis across the entrance to my home. I have had to work around it down to this level… I calculate the Shíou Jūmí complex lies not ten feet beyond this point. Sadly, granite is much more difficult than limestone to break and move, at least with the poor tools I was able to scavenge from the ruins of Laketown. In a year I have managed to remove less than two feet, as you can see…”
A divot of that depth, about the height and width of the ogre, dimpled the gray stone wall. It seemed obvious to Sujia that it would take another five years, at least, to break through. Assuming Jian Li’s numbers were right, of course. She felt bad for the poor fellow, exiled by mere feet from all that he loved and valued…
“I’ve had a thought,” Snow Crow said suddenly, popping up from where he’d been sitting cross-legged on the floor to approach the granite wall. “I acquired an artifact, back in the ruins of Songxi, and I think we might be able to use it solve your problem…”
“Oooh, I see where you’re going,” Zhú Zi piped up from her barrel next to Viroj. “And if I use what little water magic I still control in this form, I think… Viroj, be a dear and fetch that second bucket of water, won’t you?”
When the bemused Moon Monk had returned with the extra water, the river spirit infused the stone wall with the liquid, magically forcing it into every crack, fissure and pore. When she had finished, Snow Crow stepped forward, pulling the crystal rod from his robe and pointing it at the divot in the granite. Speaking the control word, a beam of almost invisible blue-white light flashed out to splash against the stone, turning it white with a rime of sudden frost. Cracks sounded from within, and chips flaked away…
“You didn’t get all the water,” the carp said to Snow Crow. “Hit it again!”
The bard hesitated a moment, realizing he had no idea how many times he could use the device before it stopped working… ah well, in for a grot, in for a qián, he thought. The second beam of cold energy struck the wall and more snaps, crackles, and pops could be heard from within.
“Now, let’s see what this can do,” Edain said, drawing the Sky Blade and stepping forward while Snow Crow hastily backed away. “The blade is said to be indestructible, able to pierce any defense. Let’s test that…”
He swung with all his considerable strength, and the black blade cracked into the frozen granite with a ring and a sharp crack. A large chunk of the stone fell away, along with a shower of smaller chips. He took a second swing, and even more fell away.
“Amazing!” Jian Li cried, clapping his massive hands together in delight. “But we should take full advantage of this, while the cold lasts. I have a potion here, which can confer the strength of a giant on any who drink it… there are four doses, pick the three strongest amongst you and together let us see how much progress we can make together!”
The ogre tossed back a gulp himself and then offered the vial to the humans. After a brief discussion Edain, Khatia, and Viroj each took a dose until the vial was empty. Khatia later told Sujia that almost instantly, she felt a surge of energy flow through here, a vitality she’d never experienced before. In the moment, Sujia watched with astonishment as Khatia and the men went to work on the granite block, sword and fists tearing it apart as if it was made of earth.
In twenty minutes they burrowed through the center of the mass until, with one last tremendous punch, Jian Li broke through the final blockage. Roaring in triumph, he dashed through the opening and into a corridor of dressed stone, his guests not far behind him. Sujia thought the others must feel as excited as she, energized by the obvious joy radiating off the ogre.
The corridor was a dozen yards long and ended in an intricately carved, arched doorway with double doors of black ironwood. Jian Li pushed the heavy doors open as if they were made of balsa, and strode into his home for the first time in five years. After a moment of obviously deeply felt emotion, he pulled himself together and motioned for the humans to enter.
The room was square, a hundred feet on each side, with a colonnade of intricately carved pillars running around the perimeter, upholding a 10’ wide walkway, a mezzanine of sorts. Wide stairs directly across from the door led up to the delicately balustraded balcony. Beneath the colonnade the walls were lined with two score wooden bookshelves, each one filled with books, scrolls, codices, maps, and numerous other types of information storage methods, as well as the odd object’d art. Four groined arches met thirty feet above the center of the room, with recessed glowstones behind each one casting a soft blue light across the curved ceiling sections, giving the impression of an early evening sky.
In the center of the room several large table were scattered about, covered in books, maps, blank parchment, containers of pens and brushes, bottles of inks, and the odd plate or goblet. Each table had a single large chair, of varied styles and materials – clearly Jian Li couldn’t be bothered dragging a single one about to wherever he might need it. Sujia did note that there were at least two more normally-proportioned chairs tucked away behind a nearby pillar. She also marked the three doors on the mezzanine level, one set in the middle of each wall, forward and to either side, that must lead deeper into the structure.
“Forgive me my distraction, my friends,” the ogre rumbled over his shoulder as he moved quickly between the tables, scanning their contents, touching a book here, lifting a map there, tsking over dried, hardened brushes. “It’s been so long, and I was afraid I might never regain my home, my sanctuary — I’m quite overwhelmed!”
After a time the ogre was clearly satisfied that nothing was terribly amiss, and that his lair remained as he’d left it that night five years earlier, and turned his attention back to his guests. He insisted that they must stay for the night, now that he could offer appropriate accommodations. “And besides,” he added when they demurred, “the day is shortening now towards sunset, and I do not think it wise to travel the canyon path at night. A brood of the filthy Ying Shao have built a nesting colony another two hours up the road, and while you might sneak past in the dark, the path is narrow there… it would be a poor repayment for your great gift of aid if I let you perish so.”
It took little convincing to get the companions to agree, and Khatia went up to retrieve the mules and stable them in the cavern outside the complex, while Sujia agreed to accompany Jian Li to his farming caverns to gather food for their supper. Zhú Zu seemed particularly distressed at the news of the Ying Shao – as she passed the carp’s barrel Sujia heard the fish muttering to herself.
“Why would she allow such a thing? Really, it’s unheard of…”
In the caverns, which turned out to actually be large purpose-built expanses clearly meant for subterranean agriculture, Sujia managed to pump Jian Li for more of his own life story, and what he knew of the dragon they were going to see. He was willing enough, in exchange for her own story, and she tried to keep it as innocuous as possible. She suspected the canny ogre read more from what she left unsaid than she might have liked, but he didn’t push and eventually moved on to the information she was angling for.
“Jin Zhi is at least 500 years old,” he began, “although she has never shared the precise year of her birth with me… dragons are quite canny about that sort of thing, even with friends. I do know for certain that she came to Loushang Mountain, and took up her current post as its Guardian, 308 years ago. From all I have ever heard, she has always been a good and faithful protector to all those living in the lands she considers under her mandate.
“Certainly she has been a good friend to me, in ways I can never repay but will always be grateful for. I have come to realize, over the decades, how lonely her life must be… until the disaster, she would visit me at least once a month, on average, and we enjoyed many great conversations, even some lively debates, often based on our readings of books from my library.
“Indeed, the only time I’ve ever known her to go silent for any length fo time was about 50 years ago, when I didn’t see her for almost a year and a half. I was quite worried that something terrible had happened to her, but no news came from my other sources, and I consoled myself that news of the fall of a dragon would spread across the land like a fire. I assume some esoteric errand of dragon-kind must have kept her away then, although she would always very deftly turn the conversation if I pushed her about it. Eventually I stopped asking.”
“Do you think perhaps she has been killed this time,” Sujia asked, a little tentatively, worried about upsetting her host. “Perhaps the Imperials did it, and the destruction of the dam was a side effect of the battle. That might explain the strange actions of the Rangers, killing any witnesses to such a monstrous crime…”
“It is… possible, I suppose,” Jian Li said as they made their way back to his library, loaded with baskets of mushrooms, of a dozen kinds, as well as other, less identifiable vegetables. “I have considered it, certainly, how not? But really, it is hard to imagine the circumstances under which even a company of Imperial soldiers, however well trained and seasoned, could have even harmed a golden dragon of her age and size. Still, with some Ancient artifact, perhaps… and it would explain the murderous actions of the Rangers I saw.
“But the truth is, I don’t believe it. I have been to the Dragon’s Gate several times these past five years… although not in the last 15 months , thanks to those foul harpies up the gorge… and while she has never answered my call, nonetheless I have felt her presence. It is not logical, nor rational, and I can offer no proof, but I feel in my bones that she still lives, and has not abandoned her home, even if it seems she has abandoned her duties for some reason.”
Or perhaps the Imperials did try to killers her, but only managed to trap her in the form of a carp, Sujia carefully didn’t say aloud. That might explain both her absence and Jian Li’s certainty that she lives…
Dinner that evening was robust and delicious, and frankly Sujia hardly noticed that there was no meat. Snow Crow sang some ballads, told some tales, and performed a scene from one of Quon Lon Yi’s more obscure comedies, The Rampant Philosopher — which turned out to be one of Jian Li’s favorites. While there was no wine or beer, the clear, cold water from the ogre’s cisterns seemed more substantial, somehow, than ordinary water, and she felt almost tipsy as the evening went on. To the point of actually joining in when everyone began singing old folk songs… and the odd bawdy tavern tune as well.
Even Zhú Zu joined in on some of the songs, and Sujia quite forgot to ask her about what she’d meant earlier until she was drifting off in her bedroll, near one of the banked braziers. Oh well, it was probably nothing…
• • • • •
The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of leftovers, which Viroj had to admit tasted even better than they had the night before, the Wanderers prepared to take their leave of the Hermit Ogre of Yanduvai Gorge. Jian Li, still uncertain how to properly repay the great debt he felt he owed them, handed Edain a leather tube about two feet long. Within it were rolled up several beautiful, and beautifully detailed, maps of the surrounding lands, including one showing precisely how to find the Dragon’s Gate.
“Those other papers,” the ogre explained as Edain shuffled curiously through them, “are letters of introduction to and instructions for my agents in three cities in southern Ty Kyen. Cities you are likely to pass through on this journey of yours, if I have understood you aright. They instruct each of them to give you whatever aid and assistance you might need, which is within their power to grant, in perpetuity. Certainly any of my maps which may aid you in your travels are on that list.
“The letters also give them notice that any rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated, and that I am not only alive, but back in business and they should begin sending agents once again. I trust you will fill in any details they may seek, and that you feel are safe for them to hear. All three know what I am, so you need not keep that secret fromthem… although I would appreciate it if you don’t spread that information in general.
“Should you ever have need of the knowledge in my library, or the secrets of my maps, you have only to send word to me and it shall be yours as quickly as I can manage it. Not a terribly fungible reward I’m afraid, but it is what I can offer. Along with this,” he added, holding up a large vial in a leather case. “It is the twin to the Potion of Giant Strength which we used to such great effect yesterday. Four doses, and may they prove a true boon to you should trouble find you on the road.”
Viroj was still having a struggle fulling getting his head around the erudition, courtesy, and general pleasant nature of the enormous, muscular, very red and horned ogre. While certainly of no relation to demonkind (and the monk shuddered at the thought of a demon seizing possession of a creature already as strong as Jian Li), he’d heard tales of others of his Order dealing with ogres from time to time, when such came down into civilized lands raiding and pillaging. He could see now why such encounters were not beloved by any sane man…
Still, he was glad to have met this particular ogre, and was very glad they hadn’t had to fight him. Even between himself, Edain and Khatia, he wasn’t entirely certain how such a conflict would have ended. Instead, they had enjoyed a wonderful meal (he’d actually asked for, and received, several of the ogre’s recipes), a pleasant and entertaining evening, some vital information, and a good night’s sleep. And if Jian Li’s information was correct, he’d get a fight later today, if not the kind he preferred.
He’d had to deal with the Ying Shao, the mountain harpies, a time of two in the past, and while they were hardly a threat on the level of an ogre, they were nasty and dangerous enough. At least they weren’t walking into the situation unknowing and unprepared… of course, unless the wind was against you, the stench from their nests usually gave fair warning of what was ahead.
“This is such a beautiful place,” Sujia said, about an hour before midday. “So unlike the area where I grew up. The land is so… three-dimensional in the mountains. And the river below us…”
“Yes, I love the mountains myself,” Viroj agreed quickly. “Although as a lad they could make my family’s travels more difficult, especially if we had to flee… er, that is, if we were in a hurry to reach new towns.” Maybe if he diverted her with a tale she wouldn’t—
“The stone fights the river and is shaped by it,” the young woman intoned, nodding her head thoughtfully.
Damn, another of her inscrutable aphorisms, or whatever they were. He never knew how to respond, and she seemed to have some obscure utterance for every occasion. But he was saved from awkwardness this time by a slight shift in the wind… on it, he caught the first acrid whiff he’d been waiting for.
“Let’s stop here,” he called out, holding up a hand. He was in the lead, with Sujia following, then Khatia, Edain behind her, and Snow Crow nominally in charge of the two mules. The animals had also caught the scent, and if they didn’t know precisely what it meant, they definitely knew they didn’t like it. If the carrion-eaters attacked, the lad might have his hands full keeping the beasts from bolting back down the trail – or over the cliff. As Jian Li had said, the path had been narrowing for some time, and looked significantly more narrow ahead. If they had to fight, better here where there was a least a bit of room to maneuver…
He had cast his Moonstones after breakfast, while the others were preparing for their departure, and his reading had looked good. He had actually been fairly confident when they set out that they would face no battle today; but that confidence had dimmed as the morning went on. Auguries had certainly saved his life before, but they’d also mislead him a time or two, especially in his younger years. He’d learned to temper his youthful, arrogant certainty in his stone-reading ability with some humility and mature caution.
“By the Seven Virtuous Immortals, what is that stench?” Sujia blurted, gagging slightly and turning pale as the wind shifted again, carrying the smell of putrefaction, feces, and a rank, sour body odor more strongly towards them.
“The charming scent of the Ying Shao our ogre friend warned us of,” Viroj replied, trying not to gag himself as he scanned the sky and the cliff tops above them. Even prepared and with some experience, there was no NOT reacting to that horrible miasma.
“Well, at least it means the wind is blowing away from the nest,” Khatia said, holding a cloth to her face, to little relieve if her expression was any guide. “So perhaps we can slip past…”
But the wind had been blowing the other way for the last half hour, Viroj thought. Damn!
“Here they come,” he cried as he reached for his bow. Six winged humanoids, each about the size of a 12-year-old boy, crested the cliff top not twenty feet ahead of them, their dark red skin looking almost black against the bright sky. Fortunately the sun, while high, was slightly behind the creatures and not directly in their own eyes. Viroj saw the familiar, part-human, mostly avian heads, with their massive, wickedly curved beak-like mouths full of razor teeth; the large feathered wings sweeping back from hairy shoulders; the wicked talons on their human-like legs; and the short, barbed tails. They each carried a stick, almost as long as themselves and sharpened to a wicked point at both ends, in their three-taloned hands.
Khatia already had her bow out, and an arrow nocked, as the creatures wheeled about, screeching, obviously working themselves up to attack. But she didn’t yet raise it.
“This is your only warning!” she called out in that deep, military bellow that always took Viroj by surprise when he heard it. “Back off now, and you will live to see another day!”
Sujia looked as surprised as he did at this unexpected turn. Was the archer really that unfamiliar with these beasts, to imagine that they understood civilized speech? He wasn’t really sure they had actual speech even between themselves. Sujia seemed to share his thoughts, for she looked back at their companion and said “Embrace the fire within, persist with unwavering hope, and let nothing extinguish your unstoppable spirit.”
“What?” Khatia asks, looking as confused as Viroj felt.
“Might this not be a good time for your fire arrows?” the younger monk clarified, gesturing at her friend’s lowered bow.
“I hardly think I need fire to dispose of this trash!” Khatia snorted.
Before she could say any more, one of the wheeling harpies made a dive toward them, spear aimed and an ululating shriek busting from its gaping beak-mouth. Sujia instantly had a shuriken in her hand, and Viroj could barely see it as it flew towards its target. But the creature saw or sensed it, and jinked to avoid it. But it was forced to pull up and away, aborting its attack.
“That was a warning shot!“ Khatia bellowed again. “Withdraw and let us pass – we have no interest in your nests. But attack us and you will all die!”
To no one’s surprise, except maybe Khatia, another harpy dove in to hurl a crude spear at the archer. She nimbly dodged it, Viroj noted with approval, but was visibly annoyed. She finally brought her bow up… but he was quicker. His arrow pierced the flyer’s neck, sending a tremendous gout of blood spraying into the air. It dies almost instantly, and its limp body, wings thuttering like sails on a ship taken aback, plunged into the canyon to vanish into the roaring river below.
Khatia got off her own shot barely a second later, before the rest of the flock could even react, taking another of the beasts in the left arm. The arrow pierced the arm and pinned it into the wing behind, apparently severing an artery, given the spray of blood that spurted out. The harpy dropped its spear, and tried to wheel and flee, but only turned in a circle before it lost consciousness and followed its fellow into the canyon.
“Clearly, I need to learn how to use a bow,” Sujia muttered just loud enough for Viroj to hear, and he smiled as he drew another arrow from his quiver.
The four surviving Ying Shao were shrieking in redoubled fury now, and glancing back the Moon Monk saw Snow Crow struggling to calm the agitated mules… apparently by singing to them? Not a strategy that would have occurred to Viroj, but it seemed to be working, so he turned back to what was now definitely a battle.
Edain, rather than drawing his new sword, seemed to be trying to invoke a ritual – the Peace of Inspiration, Viroj thought based on what little he could make out over the cacophony above them and the river below. But if it was, it didn’t seem to work, as the remaining harpies seemed to become even more enraged.
Indeed, one of them swooped directly at the Pona Hanni, who belatedly drew the Sky Blade for a wincingly clumsy counter attack. The blade might cut through any defense, Viroj thought in dismay, but only if it actually hits something.
The harpy’s spear went into Edain’s left arm, straight through the bicep. The creature couldn’t follow up however, Viroj saw with relief, as it was forced to dodge his friend’s waving black blade. Unfortunately, a few seconds later Edain’s eyes rolled up and he collapsed, from shock and, probably, blood loss.
Viroj sent his next shaft at the harpy hovering over Edain, clearly seeking to finish his victim off. He cursed as the arrow narrowly missed, but it did have the effect of driving the creature away, at least for the moment.
While all this had been going on, he’d been peripherally aware that several Ying Shao had dove in to attack both Khatia and Sujia. One of the two on Khatia jabbed a spear at her, but missed, while getting within range of her sword. It cut across the creatures belly, drawing a deep welling of blood, but unfortunately not disemboweling it. Nonetheless, it flapped frantically backward and beat for the sky, even as its partner came in from the other side. Khatia easily blocked that second spear thrust, forcing the harpy up and away.
Sujia appeared to Viroj, for just a moment, to be frozen in panic, standing stock still as a third Ying Shao dove at her spear first, in a killing fury. Even as the Moon Monk loosed the arrow that drove off Edain’s attacker he was reaching for another shaft, knowing he’d be too late to save the young Byan’gon monk. But to his relief he saw she actually needed no saving.
She hadn’t been frozen in fear, he realized, she’d been gathering her chi… as the spear drove in toward her she pivoted, seeming to move almost casually, in no hurry, and it flashed past with an inch to spare. Then the monk’s fist flashed out, almost too fast to follow, slamming into the creature’s left thigh. Even over the sounds of the fight Viroj heard the sharp crack as bone splintered. Blood splashed out the other side of the leg as shattered bone ends tore open flesh. The harpy dropped to ground with a piercing wail, and began thrashing.
Rather than finishing off the harpy, however, Sujia turned and ran to where Edain lay unconscious and bleeding nearby. With a cry she dropped to her knees and began ripping strips from his robes to try and staunch the bleeding. By her frantic look, and increasing agitation, she wasn’t having any luck. Viroj was torn between running to help her and the realization that Khatia still faced two harpies alone… then he saw Snow Crow appear around the last bend of the trail behind. He’d moved the mules back and presumably secured them. Good, he could help Sujia with Edain, and he could help Khatia.
He turned back to the archer just in time to see her loose an arrow at one of the three carrion beasts still in the air. The shaft plunged into its left side, and it dropped its spear to clutch at the gushing sound. With a strange keening sound it struggled to stay airborne, but dropped to hit hard on a rock outcropping. As it scrabbled feebly at the rock, just before it dropped over the edge of the cliff and the final fall into the river, he realized it was the harpy that had wounded Edain. A pity, he’d hoped to take that one out himself…
He nocked an arrow and prepared to take out at least one of the two who were stooping on Khatia, but hesitated to shoot – they were too close in and the danger of hitting his friend was too great. Well, as soon as one rose high enough…
But as one dove, jabbing its spear at her, Khatia turned aside from the thrust and counter-struck as the harpy flashed by. Her sword took the top of the creature’s head off in a spectacular spray of brain and blood. She let the powerful strike swing her around, bringing the blade up to slice through the crude spear of her second attacker, along with several of its fingers.
Finally some sense appeared to filter through the harpy’s killing lust, as it realized it was suddenly alone. It looked at its one remaining companion on the ground, whose thrashing and shrieking had stopped, then turned to flee. Viroj raised his bow, but before he could release, Khatia had brought here own weapon up and sent a shaft flying after the escaping beast. It wheeled in the air as the arrow pierced its left wing and arm, then spiraled down to strike the cliff face. Its limp form crashed down to land on a protruding shelve 20 feet above them… Viroj could just see one wing still twitching feebly over the edge.
Remind me not to really get on her bad side, he thought as they both turned back to their comrades. Snow Crow had apparently managed, under Sujia’s guidance and despite his inexperience, to stop the flow of blood from Edain’s arm.
“Knowledge is learning something new every day. Wisdom is letting go of something every day,” he heard her say to the young troubadour, and forced himself not to grind his teeth. At least the lad didn’t seem to mind the quasi-non sequitur, and seemed very pleased with himself. As well the kid should—
“Sujia, behind you!” Viroj yelled, leaping forward and drawing his sword. The Ying Shao she had downed was not dead, as they had all assumed when its thrashing and shrieking had stopped. It had lain quiet, and now it used its wings to help it rise, despite the crippled leg, lashing out with filthy, razor-like talons at the young monk’s back.
Sujia reacted instantly to Viroj’s warning, his tone as much as the words causing her to roll forward and twist away from the attack. Still, the talons raked her left shoulder, shedding cloth and sending drops of blood flying. To his surprise she neither cried out nor seemed even to notice the wound. Instead her face had that look of intense concentration he recognized as the gathering of her chi…
As the enraged, wounded beast lunged forward again, Sujia lashed out with her right foot, pivoting on the left, to strike its right leg mid-thigh. This time not only was there the sound of shattering bone, but of tearing flesh as well, as her chi-powered kick almost tore off the leg entirely. The harpy collapsed with one last wailing shriek, twitched twice, and went still as it bled out.
“Well done,” Edain croaked, Snow Crow helping to steady him as he sat up. “No survivors. Ever. Not with evil like this…” He was pale, and clearly still shaken and in pain, but Viroj was happy to see him conscious again.
“We have seen to the safety of future travelers,” was all Sujia said as she swayed beside him, wincing now as she felt her own wound. Then she looked up and saw the still feebly waving wing tip of the harpy on the ledge above them. With a quick glance to see that Edain was alright, she closed her eyes and visibly shoved her pain aside. Then she began to climb the rocky cliff face.
“Sujia, what are you doing?” Khatia called out in surprise. “It can’t live long, there’s no need—“
“No survivors. Ever,” the monk grunted and continued her climb. Reaching the ledge, she pulled herself onto it and the others saw her dagger rise and then fall quickly, twice. A moment later she was back on the trail with them, handing Khatia her recovered arrow, and finally sinking down to sit with her back against the cliff. Viroj thought she looked exhausted as he knelt beside her and carefully washed out her wound with the flask of rice wine he always carried. Making sure no foreign matter remained, as far as he could tell, he then bandaged her up.
After an hour of rest, a little food (although no one was hungry, Viroj insisted on at least a morsel, with Khatia backing him up), and lots of water, the group prepared to set out again. For himself, he just wanted to get out of the gorge and establish a defensible camp as soon as possible. Edain had recovered enough to sever both claws from the one harpy available to them, running a leather cord between them and affixing it to the head of his staff… a rather gruesome souvenir, the Moon Monk thought, but didn’t say. The several feathers which Snow Crow plucked from the corpse were only slightly better in his opinion.
The young entertainer began to sing a marching song, and to Viroj’s surprise it actually seemed to pick up everyone’s spirits as they marched along. Other songs followed, and time passed swiftly. In two hours they reached the head of the Yanduvai Gorge, and passed what little remained of the shattered dam – stone piers on either side of the canyon.
An hour later they made camp in a large clearing on the west side of the river, which was wider now than in the gorge, if less so than it had been further down its course. There were still a couple hours of light left, but they all agreed they needed to rest and recover. He, Khatia, and Snow Crow took care of the set up, insisting the two wounded just rest. Sujia made a token protest, but Edain backed Viroj by adding that he needed her to look at his own injury. That had been enough to keep her at his side and quiet.
All of this had been underwater five years ago Viroj mused as he began to prepare dinner. Yet you wouldn’t know it now, the bamboo has reclaimed it all! He was worried about Edain’s wound, it had looked too red and inflamed when he’d glimpsed it after Sujia had removed the bandages. His cooking suffered for his distraction, although no one complained or even seemed to notice. As Snow Crow took care of the cleanup, he came over to Edain to took a closer look at his friend’s injury.
“That is looking far worse than it did this afternoon,” Sujia said, peering over his shoulder. She was trying to hide the fear in her voice, but clearly she was as worried as he was by the angry-looking inflammation around the deep gouges. “Perhaps you should try that healing ritual of yours on the Pona Hanni… Khatia has said it saved her life in the high passes when you first met…”
“Yes, I was also thinking it was time to attempt an invocation of the Silken Wrappings of Ki,” Viroj replied, and sat down cross-legged to the left of Edain. Sujia crouched down on his right and watched intently as he prepared himself. Not that there was much for her to see… all the real work was internal, as he composed his mind and emptied himself, the better to allow Kai Yi the space within to work his healing blessing. Unfortunately, he was having a difficult time achieving the proper head space, and after twenty minutes he sighed and opened his eyes.
“I’m sorry, I cannot seem to invoke the Immortal… I fear if I continue I might actually make matters worse.”
“Well by the Pillars of Heaven, I don’t see how you could,” Khatia snorted. She had got the tents up, and stopped by to check on their leader… and didn’t like what she saw. “I can hardly blame these two, they’ve no combat medicine experience… but I thought you were more skilled at healing than this, monk.”
He frowned, but made no reply save to step aside as she moved in for a better look. She had Sujia fetch a rolled leather case from her pack, and by the light of the campfire set about re-cleaning Edain’s wound before rebinding it .
“I’d like to try and find some herbs I know of that would be beneficial – my dried ones are better than nothing, but given the state of those gouges, Edain, I think fresh would be better. No point stumbling about in the forest, in the dark, though. I’ll get up with first light and try my luck in the morning.”
“I fear we used up our luck fighting those vile Ying Shao,” Sujia said. “And you should not criticize Mekha Viroj so – at least he tried. As did you. The Immortals may answer our prayers, but not always, and sometimes only in their own time.”
“You’re right, Sujia,” Khatia sighed after a moment. “My apologies, Viroj. We’re all tired, tense, and worried, which is my only excuse.”
“No need for apology, my friend,” the Moon Monk shrugged. “As you say, none of us are at our best just now. I know the herbs of which you speak… perhaps we can seek them out together come morning.”
Khatia agreed, and with that they all turned into their sleeping rolls… except for Viroj, who had drawn the first watch.
• • • • •
Snow Crow had the third watch, and sat it perched on a boulder on the edge of the clearing. He wrapped his cloak more tightly around him as dawn approached and the wind picked up. Spring might not be far off, especially here in these lowland hills, but it was technically still winter and mornings were cold. Why couldn’t he possess a magic cloak that fought off the chill and kept its wearer warm, like a real adventurer in the ballads he loved to sing?
As the first light broke over the nearest hills his attention was drawn from his discomfort by a spider monkey sitting high in a bamboo just at the edge of the clearing. As he studied the little guy he realized, with something of a start, that the monkey was staring back at him… rather intently, too. As soon as it realized he knew it was watching, the monkey darted back further into the forest, only to turn and swing back toward him.
Coming to rest a little closer now, it chittered at him, seeming excited… or maybe angry? It was hard to tell, as he didn’t have a lot of experience with monkeys, beyond those that certain vendors kept in the city of his birth as theft alerts. By Mien Jai’s left tit, the racket one of those things could raise if you just happened to innocently pick up a little trinket! Still, he bore the creatures no ill will, and this one was certainly interesting, if puzzling.
Both Khatia and Viroj gave him a wave as they set off into the forest with the sky barely light enough to tell a black thread from a white one, but didn’t stop to talk. He wondered what they’d make of the little beast, then shrugged and set about stoking the fire and preparing breakfast. As he moved about their little campsite he noticed the monkey had moved and was now sitting on the boulder he’d vacated… and still watching his every move. Just like those suspicious shop monkeys, truth be told, and he laughed at the thought.
The two would-be herb gatherers returned empty handed and frustrated an hour later. Neither was particularly familiar with the environs of the Bamboo Sea, and weren’t even sure if the herbs they sought grew here. Edain’s wounds didn’t look worse, Snow Crow thought as he peered over Khatia’s shoulder when she un-bandaged them after breakfast. Not much anyway, and definitely not better. He was also feverish, which even Snow Crow knew wasn’t a good sign.
“Zhú Zu, can your magic do anything to help with this,” Khatia asked, frowning at the angry red claw marks… and the slight smell of pus, which even Snow Crow could detect. He was pretty sure that wasn’t a good sign either…
“I’m sorry, no,” the fish piped from her nearby barrel, her gold and white head peering anxiously over the rim at the humans. “The best I can do is manifest some pure, absolutely untainted water that you might use to clean the wound again. If I was… well, fully myself, I might do more, but in this form… I’m sorry.”
“Better than nothing,” the archer replied with a sigh, and used the offered water to carefully irrigate the gouges before re-wrapping the wound with clean bandages, which she had Snow Crow boil in some more of the magical carp water. Edain bore the treatment stoically, but the bard could see it pained him, and his usually weirdly pale face was flushed.
A discussion followed after the Pona Hanni had drifted into a fitful doze, and it was agreed they would stay where they were for at least another day, in the hope that rest and further treatment might help. Sujia, whose own injury, while obviously still painful, seemed to be healing as it should, remained on vigil at Edain’s side. The others moved to the far side of the clearing to discuss how they might find the herbs they sought, or others of similar efficacy that Zhú Zu might know of.
“Crow, have you been feeding that monkey?” Khatia asked suddenly. “It seems strangely focused on you, in a very… un-monkey-like way. Not that I know much about monkeys, really… but still.”
“Nope,” he replied with a laugh. “Not so much as a groat. But he’s been hanging around since dawn, or at least that’s when I noticed him…”
“It’s almost like he wants to tell you something,” Viroj said after a moment of watching the little creature. “Like he wants you to follow him, actually.”
“What, because little Shim Xi has fallen down a well and needs to be rescued?” Snow Crow laughed.
“If not that, precisely, quite possibly something equally important,” Khatia said, apparently taking the idea seriously, somewhat to Snow Crow’s surprise. “I’ve heard such creatures can be very bright… Perhaps we should follow it, if that’s what it really wants…”
A few minutes later he and the tall fire archer were pushing through the bamboo as the spider monkey did indeed seem to want to lead them somewhere. In other circumstances Snow Crow might have seen this as the perfect opportunity to once again try to seduce the intimidating warrior, but she remained focused on the task, and as immune as ever to his considerable charms. Intimidating indeed, but magnificent, even if she towers over me! And I do love a challenge…
After an hour or so, including a hop across the river via a set of conveniently places rocks, he was beginning to wonder if this was just a wild goose… well, monkey… chase after all. They were climbing a gentle rise, and he was just about to suggest they turn back, when Khatia held up a hand and brought them to a stop.
“Do you smell that?” she whispered, and as soon as she mentioned it, he did. The smell of cooking fish, faint but unmistakeable. The monkey was chittering anxiously at them, darting back and then forward, as if to encourage them to get their asses in gear. But Khatia moved them forward cautiously, until they stepped out of the bamboo forest to find themselves on a rocky outcropping overlooking a small pond, maybe twenty feet below.
Set back a bit from the shore of the pond to their left was a lean-to shelter, rustic looking but well built and clearly not new. Between the shelter and the water was a campfire, over which indeed a large fish was cooking (a carp Snow Crow noticed, glad their own wasn’t with them), and a man sitting cross-legged on a small square platform of lashed-together bamboo. He had very long, unkempt black hair, a long, wild beard, and looked quite weathered, if hale. He was tending to his cooking and at first didn’t notice his visitors. But their monkey guide hopped and jumped down the rocky slope to their left, chattering happily. He leapt up onto the man’s shoulder and excitedly pointed up at the strangers.
The man started as he finally saw them, and his hands flew to the ground to push himself away from the fire – Snow Crow realized that his platform must be set on some sort of wheels or rollers. At the same time he noticed how very flat the area immediately around the shelter and that end of the pond was, unnaturally so. Putting it all together, along with the fact that the man didn’t leap to his feet, even though obviously startled, he surmised the fellow must be without the use of his legs.
“People!” The man burst out. “Who are you? How did—“ he stopped then, as he noticed Khatia’s armor, weapons, and generally martial bearing. He looked suddenly wary, but she must have realized why, even if Snow Crow was a little slow on the uptake. She held up empty hands and smiled.
“Have no fear, we are not Imperials, my friend,” she called down, her voice carefully light and as un-intimidating as she could make it. Which isn’t very, Snow Crow thought snarkily. “Nor are we bandits or other such folk. We are part of a group of five… well, six at the moment, I suppose… travelers on a pilgrimage of sorts. Your monkey friend there discovered our camp last night and was very insistent on leading us here this morning. We mean you no harm… at least insofar as you mean us none.”
The man laughed at that, and seemed to relax. His posture eased and he gestured at his folded legs. “I could hardly represent a threat to a temple choir of children in my current state, much less to a warrior such as you. But please, come down and share my breakfast, there is enough for us all. Yes, even you Temu,” he added, chucking the spider monkey under the chin.
Snow Crow, at least, wasn’t averse to the idea of second breakfast, and led the way down the slope to the little camp. Khatia followed at a more dignified pace, and made the formal introductions as they sat cross-legged to either side of the fire – close enough for conversation but not so close as be threatening.
“I am very pleased to meet you,” the man said, and his sincerity was palpable. He quickly divided the fish and passed portions to them on wide leaves. “You are the first human beings I’ve spoken with in… it must be five years now, which seems impossible when I think on it. My name is Fa Zhon, a native of a little village—“
“What?!” Snow Crow blurted out, leaping back to his feet and sending his fish to the ground. “We’ve been looking for you — well, for your bones, at least — this whole trip. Honestly, I figured we’d be lucky to find a skull, so this is amazing!”
Fa Zhon looked stunned, while Khatia just closed her eyes for a moment – Was she counting to ten? he wondered. Whatever for? Before he could continue, however, she took up the thread and quickly explained their recent adventures, including the fate of Songxi and their meetings with his family and friends.
“This is so overwhelming,” Fa Zhon said after she brought the tale up to yesterday’s fight with the Ying Shao. “I knew my poor parents must think me dead, and that has been an ache in my heart worse than any physical pain I’ve endured. But it is good to know that they still live, and that my home remains standing – I knew Songxi must have been destroyed, but had hoped Yaohima might survive.”
“Well, with any luck we will be able to reunite you with your family soon,” Khatia said. “We are on our way to Loushang Mountain and the Dragon’s Gate, and once our errand there is done we will return for you and see you safely home.”
“What? No, please take me with you!” Fa Zhon said, looking suddenly desperate. “I would rather risk the dragon again, even certain death, then stay here another hour! I know the way to the Dragon’s Gate, and perhaps I can be of some use if you do find the Guardian, for I have spoken to her myself. Please…”
“I’m not sure your… rolling device… will be able to keep up,” Snow Crow said dubiously. “I mean it’s very ingenious and all, but…”
“No, I will have to carry him,” Khatia said with a deep sigh. She didn’t actually look too put out by the idea Snow Crow thought… and it was true the guy was rather short, all bone and lean muscle beyond his withered legs. Probably didn’t weigh 90 pounds, really.
“In return,” Khatia went on, “it is occurs to me there is something you might help us with. You are a native of the Bamboo Sea, and have somehow managed to survive out here for five years alone and crippled. You must be familiar with the plants to be found hereabout, yes?”
“Indeed, Lady,” the unwilling hermit replied eagerly. “Before my ill-fated trip to the Mountain, I was apprenticed to our healer and I have, out of need, taught myself more in these lonely years.”
“Good! And I’m no lady, so Khatia will do just fine. As we make our way back to our camp, can you show me the way to any healing herbs that might help our injured companion?” She named the specific plants she and Viroj had fruitlessly sought, and Fa Zhon agreed he knew where to find at least one, and suggested other possible substitutes.
“Very good! Now gather anything you might need, and let us be off. Along the way I would be interested in hearing the tale of how you came to be hear, and how you have survived.”
There was little the man wanted to take beyond his rolling platform, which Snow Crow was tasked with carrying. As they prepared to leave the little homestead, the bard noticed that a band of at least thirty of the little spider monkeys had gathered, unnoticed, in the trees around the pond. They stared down silently at the humans, and Fa Zhon looked suddenly sad.
“I will miss you my friends,” he said, and the emotion in his voice was raw. “You saved my life many times over, and I will never forget you. But I must return to my own people. Thank you.” Then he turned his head away. But Snow Crow saw a tear on his weathered cheek as he did.
Before they had gone far, however, there came a sudden chittering from behind, and the monkey who had led them here raced across the clearing to fling himself onto the surprised man.
“Temu, what are you doing?” he scolded, although a laugh puffed from him as his little friend grabbed his hair and settled himself on his shoulder. “You can’t come with us… what about your family?”
The young monkey looked back at his tribe, scattered through the tress around them, and one raised a paw… was it the little guy’s mother Snow Crow wondered? Temu raised a paw in return, then looked away, refusing to be parted from his human friend. In the end the humans gave up trying and pushed on into the forest.
It took them twice as long to return, as Fa Zhon led them to several spots off the direct path where they gathered various herbs and other plants. As they traveled he told his new friends about his life in the past five years, and Snow Crow diligently committed the tale to memory. This was good stuff, and he was sure he could turn it into a half-way decent ballad… with a little creative licenses, of course.
“I was proud, if a little nervous, to be chosen to seek out the Guardian of Loushang Mountain,” Fa Zhou began. “It took me three days, traveling up the dry bed of our poor little creek, to reach the lake the dam had created. I passed through the terraced fields on its west side, avoiding the little village on the eastern shore, and reached the Dragon’s Gate in the late afternoon. For awhile I received no answer, although I was sure I was doing the ritual aright. I was about to give up when suddenly, from the mists atop the waterfall, she appeared.
“The Guardian Dragon was as beautiful as all the stories had said, shining white and gold in the afternoon sun, and seeming to gleam with her own inner light. She was maybe a bit smaller than I’d expected, but of course stories always exaggerate.”
Snow Crow mentally nodded agreement to that. As a story teller himself he was well familiar with the little tweaks reality almost always needed to make the essence of truth come through, even if the precise details weren’t strictly accurate.
“She was gracious and kind as she asked my business, and I explained what had brought me. The drying of our creek was destroying our livelihood, and we sought her aid. Rain, if nothing else, but could she restore the Little Sister? She agreed she would do what she could, and with protestations of gratitude I left her at the Dragon’s Gate, content in a job well done.
“I returned down the east side of the lake then, thinking to spend the night at Laketown. There was no inn of course – despite its name, the place was barely twice the size of Yaohima, and considerably smaller than Songxi. I found a farmer (what else?) who was willing to let me sleep in his barn, and whose wife fed me a nice dinner of rice and vegetables with a bit of chicken. I was tired, and retired after helping clean up a bit and chop some wood.
“I was awakened sometime in the night — I’ve never been sure of the exact hour, other than it seemed late — by a terrible shaking of the earth. A terrible storm was raging when I ran outside, one I had slept through somehow, and I was almost killed then as a tree was uprooted by the wind, narrowly missing me. I was soaked in seconds, and in a panic I turned to the house, but it was already empty, the family having fled before me. In the frequent flashes of lightning I could make out people fleeing to the east, where I knew lay the new road the Imperial engineers had built to allow the dam’s construction.
“I would have headed that way myself, but before I could there was another tremendous jolt of the earth and I was knocked off my feet, rolling and sliding down the hill toward the lake. By the time I regained my feet I saw the dam, illuminated by a burst of sheet lightning that turned the night to day for an instant, crack near its center. Instantly the waters tore that crack into a gaping rent, then darkness returned. The next bolt of lightning revealed almost nothing left of the dam and water roaring down the canyon, with a sound I felt more than heard, as the lake began to drain.
“I turned to run again, but now the earth beneath my feet seemed to turn to liquid, flowing toward the quickly shrinking lake. I struggled to keep my feet, but I was carried backward, along with the barn, the house, the trees, everything… it seemed to me that the land to my right was not moving, and I fought my way in that direction, knee deep in flowing mud and surrounded by the wreckage of the village… I swear I had made it to solid ground, or almost, but my memory is hazy. The last thing I do remember is a blinding flash of light and searing pain.
“I don’t think the lightning actually struck me, but hit the sodden earth so close to me that its energy flowed into my legs. When I awoke, it was early morning, the storm was over, the sky was clearing, and I was more than half buried in mud. It was then I found that my legs no longer obeyed me, indeed I could feel nothing of them. I pulled myself out of the sucking mud by the strength of my arms alone, and in doing so I saw a young monkey caught in the branches of a shattered tree.
“Soaked, caked in mud, I thought the poor thing must be dead until I saw a paw move feebly. It was trying to clear its mouth I thought, and… I don’t know why, given my own condition, but all I could think of was that I had to save it. I pulled myself to the tree, and was able to reach the little creature, pulling it onto my chest as I rolled over. It was barely able to breathe; I cleared its mouth of the muck and helped as it hacked up more, until it could draw a proper breath again.
“Then we both just lay there, beneath the tangled branches of the fallen tree, exhausted. It fell asleep on my chest, its arms around my neck, and I soon followed. Which probably saved my life. I was awakened some time later – it was still morning, but I think several hours had passed — my the sound of voices. I tried to croak out something, but my own throat was dry… I lifted myself to see through the branches. Maybe twenty yards away I saw four Imperial Rangers, who seemed to be yelling at two frightened-looking farmers – one an older man, the other a young woman.
I again tried to call out, but could only croak, and over the sound they were making no one heard me. I was very glad of that a moment later, when two of the Rangers, at the command of a third, pulled out their swords and drove them into the poor farmers. They left the bodies were they fell, and then set off southward, toward the remains of the dam… and the gorge beyond I suppose. They never looked my way, and I shrank back to make myself as invisible as I could in case they did.
“The rest is rather tedious to tell, really. The monkey, as you probably guessed, was Temu here.” He paused to stoke his friend’s cheek, and the monkey ran his own free hand affectionately through the man’s beard. “He stayed with me that first day, until his mother and some others of his troop found us. She snatched her baby away, of course, and they vanished back into the woods. I prepared myself for death, as I could see no way for me to survive… especially if soldiers were killing any survivors. Perhaps I should have called out, I thought… it would at least have been a quick death.
“Then several of the monkeys, including Mama, returned just before sunset. They brought me food, in the form of fruits and several birds eggs, all of which I devoured without hesitation. They also brought me water, cupped in leaves, and over the next tenday they continued to do tend to me regularly. I regained some strength, and some hope. I pulled myself about by my arms, with the monkeys bringing me sticks and then bamboo poles to use for leverage.
“Eventually, it was they who led me to the clearing with the pond where you found me. I don’t know if that was where they had always called home, or if they moved there afterward, but for the last five years, having adopted me, they have helped me in ways I would not have believed if I hadn’t experienced it.”
Yes, this is going to make a great ballad, Snow Crow thought with an inner grin as they retuned to camp, about an hour before noon. If I can’t make this tale a money-maker I don’t deserve the blessing of Mien Jai!
After amazed introductions, and a recap of Fa Zhong’s story (which Snow Crow appreciated, as it solidified the key elements in his mind), Khatia set about making a treatment that she felt sure would cure Edain’s seriously worsening infection. She’d had the idea of adding a dose of the Potion of Giant Strength to her usual decoction of the herbs they’d harvested.
“I noticed the other day when we took the potion in Jian Li’s cave that a gash I’d given myself the day before, cutting some bamboo for skewers, was entirely healed afterward. My theory is the potion not only increases physical strength, but the strength of our bodies’ natural defenses as well.”
“So why not just give him a dose directly,” Snow Crow asked as he watched her work.
“Because I’m not sure, and I don’t think a super-strong Edain in a feverish delirium is something we want to deal with. Or even could, without wasting more doses on ourselves to subdue him. Besides, I want to concentrate the effects, if any, on the infected wound, not spread them around the whole body.”
But he was only half listening at that point, his imagination seized by a sudden inspiration. He had some training in alchemy himself, even if the temple instructors had not been best pleased when he would hare off to that old alchemist on the Street of Miracles instead of working on his perfumery skills. By the Seven Virtuous Immortals, he’d thought, when was he ever going to need to make perfume, even if he had a knack for it? No, alchemy was his preference, if he had to play around with smelly ingredients.
Speaking of smelly, those feathers he’d surreptitiously plucked from the corpse of that harpy might be just the thing… combined with some magical water from the carp, surely something that foul, combined with something that pure, must make a powerful potion… yes, this just might work.
That evening after dinner, when a visibly recovering Pona Hanni politely, but very firmly, refused an offer to dose him with his Healing Crow Elixir, Snow Crow was disappointed, but not terribly surprised. The stuff did smell like a tenday old corpse that had been left in a bog… he nonetheless offered a dose to Sujia, whose own wounds had been treated with Khatia’s paste, despite the young monk’s insistence that she was fine, really.
She’d just stared at him for a moment before saying “Insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting a different result.” Then she performed a little dance in celebration of all the healing, the real healing, that had occurred today.
And it had been a terrible dance, he consoled himself as he quietly dumped his elixir out in the river before taking first watch. He then tossed the vial itself in when he couldn’t rinse away the damn smell…
• • • • •
The next morning found Edain almost entirely back to full health. Khatia’s on-the-fly healing paste had broken his fever within hours of being applied, and by morning the gouges were faded to red welts and the flesh around them was no longer swollen or inflamed. He didn’t have quite his full range of motion back in that arm, but was confident it would return in due course. Sujia’s injury was even less visible, the claw marks barely more than white lines on her skin. She and the Pona Hanni would bear similar scars, but she was, very secretly, pleased to have such a connection to the Holy One.
Between Jian Li’s map and the directions of Fa Zhon, it took the group just three hours to reach the natural cauldron of stone carved from the cliffs on the upper slopes of Loushang Mountain that was the Dragon’s Gate. Tiered and fractured walls of shelved stone curved out to enclose two thirds of the bowl, leaving it open to the southwest. A waterfall more than 100 feet high cascaded from the clifftop with a never ending roar, boiling into the circular pool below. Spray filled the air around it with a rainbow mist, obscuring the top of fall.
Rising from that mist was a massive torii gate, apparently carved from the living stone of the mountain, over thirty feet tall. Its two upright pillars straddled the plunging water, its curved horizontal lintel spanned it, all of it covered in patches of brilliant red moss. At the southwest side of the pool, where the river flowed out into a narrow canyon and plunged down in a series of lesser falls and rapids, stood a construction of carved and fitted stone which upheld a circle of brilliant golden metal facing the waterfall. A natural bridge of stone arched across the river from east to west and curved down to end near the device.
As the group crossed the bridge and approached the dragon’s summoning device, so familiar to him despite the intervening years since he had first seen it, Fa Zhon was experiencing a confusing swirl of emotions. The strongest was, of course, relief and even exhilaration to finally be free from his long enforced isolation, whatever might come next. Embarrassment at having to be carried, and by a beautiful (if very strong) woman at that. But there was also fear – of the immediate future and the possibility of meeting the Guardian again, and fear of how his family would receive him.
Overjoyed to learn he yet lived, he was sure. At least at first… but life was hard for peasants, even amidst the bounty of the Bamboo Sea. Would they regret having a cripple to care for, when their own subsistence was never as assured as they might like? But he had cared for himself for five long years, the help of his arboreal friends not withstanding. He would have to make them see he wasn’t a burden, despite his disability…
It is an odd group I’ve fallen in with, he thought as the sun-haired foreigner, who seemed to be their leader, approached the dragon’s device and performed the brief ritual Fa Zhon had taught him on the journey up the mountain. Not that I’m ungrateful for them, not at all! They just seem such an unlikely band…
Two monks of Byan’gon, one of them a foreign giant, the other a young woman of uncomfortable silences and enigmatic utterances; another monk of Kai Yi, a sworn demon hunter, yet strangely affable; the powerful fire archer, professional, intimidating, and yet unusually kind for one of her profession (at least in his limited experience with the breed); and then there was the strange youth who seemed to be some kind of entertainer — definitely a type that he’d had no previous experience of— who seemed affable enough, if a bit odd. Good singing voice, though. How they had come together was no doubt an interesting tale, and perhaps he’d hear it if today went well…
Not that they were off to a great start. Edain had tried several times, and as far as Fa Zhon could see he was doing everything right – it wasn’t a complex or precise sort of ritual – yet no dragon appeared over the roaring falls. The archer, Khatia, had set him down with his back against a large boulder, next to the barrel containing their talking carp, where they could both see what was going on. But not really hear, over the echoing roar of the never ending fall of water. He was more than a little spooked by the talking fish, and was just as glad he didn’t have to make small talk with it.
He wasn’t sure what the others were saying to one another, but apparently some sort of debate was going on. No doubt as to how they should proceed, since there was no dragon. Go home would’ve been his suggestion, since it wasn’t like they could climb up to the Guardian’s— he gaped in surprise as the youth (Snow Crow they called him) grabbed a large coil of rope from one of their mules and began to scale the narrow cliff face to the left of the waterfall. Was he insane?!
Maybe, but he was also very athletic and agile. He moved steadily up the slick, mossy rocks with neither undue haste nor dangerous hesitation. Once or twice it seemed he’d lost his grip, and Fa Zhon’s breath caught, but each time he managed to hold on, and continue with no apparent diminishment of his confidence. By the time his compatriots had noticed him, he was more than halfway to the top.
The Kai Yi monk, apparently not to be outdone by a mere youth, made to follow… he only made it about ten feet before loosing his grip on the slick stone, sliding and scrabbling back down to land on his ass. No injury done, except to his dignity, Fa Zhon thought… and really, he was almost convincing, pretending he had only meant to test the face, not make a serious climb. When Snow Crow vanished into the mist at the top of the cliff they all watched anxiously… but in just a few minutes the rope came flying out of the rainbow brightness to slap against the cliff, apparently secured to something up top.
Viroj came over to Fa Zhon, and hefted the barrel with the carp in it onto his back with the help of Khatia. She then crouched down and motioned for Fa Zhon to put his arms around her neck. With a faint grunt she rose up, and once again he was forced to endure the embarrassment of having Sujia secure his legs about his “mount’s” waist with sturdy cords.
While this was going on, Edain had used the rope, after a cautious test to make sure it really was secure, to clamber up the cliff almost as quickly as his musical friend had, only slightly hampered by his still healing left arm. Khatia and he were next, their ascent considerably slower. They were over halfway up when they almost met disaster. Her foot slipped just as she had released the rope with one hand to reach for the next handhold, and they began to fall backward.
Although Khatia still had one hand on the rope, Fa Zhon’s added weight almost ripped it from her grasp, until he reached out and grabbed it himself, gritting as it momentarily burned his palms until his own tremendous upper body strength arrested their incipient plunge. With a gasped “Thanks!” the archer recovered and resumed the climb.
Edain and Snowcrow were there at the top to pull them up, and she bent to catch her breath. “No point in putting you down yet, my friend,” she said when he suggested it. “Not until we know what’s next. I mean, you never made it up here last time, right?”
“No, you’re right… I have no idea what to expect now,” he had to agree.
“Nothing but good things,” the carp piped up as Viroj staggered over the edge with his friends’ help, puffing himself. Sujia followed shortly after, carrying Khatia’s bow and quiver along with her own small pack. The mules securely tied below and left with fodder, the group now turned to figure out their next move.
They stood on a shelf of stone perhaps twenty feet deep and thirty wide, strewn with boulders of various sizes at the foot of another cliff face. To the right was the rushing water of young Zhú-Zu River and the western leg of the great stone torii arch that spanned it. There was less than ten feet between the arch and point where the water plunged over the edge, and the opposite leg was only dimly visible in the bright mist. A series of flat rocks protruded from the fast-flowing river, curving under the arch and vanishing into those same mists.
“That is the way forward,” the piping voice of the magical carp cut through the roar of the water – much less loud up here, but still enough to make conversation difficult. “We must pass through the Dragon’s Gate! To go around will only lead us to the empty mountain top… come, we are so close my friends, trust me, this is the way!”
The humans all looked at one another, and shrugged… there was no point in turning back now. With a deep sigh Khatia went first, before Fa Zhon could express his very deep unease at the prospect of her hopping from rock to rock with him unbalancing her. He had thought he didn’t really care if he died, so long as he was no longer alone… but at the moment when they tottered briefly on the third stone he learned that he actually cared very much! Fortunately the warrior caught her balance, leapt to the next stone, and then the next, and they were across.
The river behind them, they could now see that it issued from a great crack in a wall of rock some fifty feet high. From this eastern shore a broad, short canyon opened out into a large mountain meadow, surrounded on all sides by steep slopes of rock. The tops of those slopes were lost in more mist, which merged into the pearly-white of the sky overhead.
In the center of the meadow stood a great basin of worked stone, thirty feet across, filled with clear water. On the far side of the basin rose a short pillar of stone upholding a smaller basin, at the rear of which stood a large raised platform. Water flowed from the upper basin into the lower with a musical sound clearly heard over the now distant roar of the falls.
Edain was the next across, followed by Sujia. Viroj was in the middle of the river stones, Snow Crow just behind him, when he gave a great shout. They all turned to see Zhú Zu leap from her barrel, a sparkling spray of water arcing over the Moon Monk’s head, and plunge into the river. Before anyone could react, she breached the river, leaping high into the air and transforming as she did. In seconds she went from a largish golden-white carp to a very much larger golden-white dragon, golden energy rippling around her shifting form. The transformation complete, she turned and twisted sinuously in the air above them, her laughter that of pure joy.
“That is Jin Zhi, the Guardian of Loushang Mountain,” Fa Zhon shouted, right next to Khatia’s ear. She barely noticed, though, too entranced by the sheer power and beauty of the magnificent dragon turning in the air.
“I knew it!” Sujia shouted at almost the same instant, a warm feeling welling up inside at having her suspicions confirmed. But truth to tell, none of the others looked especially surprised – only awe-struck at the sight before them.
“But she is NOT Jin Zhi,” a sweet and sonorous soprano voice said, filling the air around them with a sound as beautiful to hear as the dragon overhead was to see. The dragon who suddenly pulled up short to hover very still as she stared over the humans’ heads. They turned as one to see a second golden dragon perched atop the stone platform above the meadow fountain. For the second time in a minute, they were awe-struck, this time speechless as well.
If Zhú Zu was big and beautiful, this new dragon was that redoubled. It… no, definitely she Fa Zhon thought, though he couldn’t say why… she was at least 45 feet long, he guessed, although it was hard to be sure while she was coiled on her platformn. Easily half again as large as the smaller dragon, and she gave off a sense of stately calm and majesty that spoke of age.
“If she is not the Guardian,” Fa Zhon said, the first to regain his voice, “then who is she, and why did she claim to be… you, I think, Great Lady?”
The larger dragon laughed, a sound like music, yet with a hint of melancholy in it that invoked sadness in him, rather than joy. “You are wise beyond expectation, Man of Yaohima. Yes, I am Jin Zhi, the Guardian Dragon of Loushang Mountain. And she is my daughter, Jin Hao. My daughter, and my shame.”
Zhú Zu, or rather Jin Hao, slowly moved toward her mother, all joy and excitement gone from her body language. She finally came to rest on the grass before the large basin, and bowed low. “Mother, I have lived in exile for five years, and I have striven to make right the great wrongs I caused, as far as I have been able to — although that was not far, until these humans came along. They freed the trapped souls of drowned Songxi; they restored your friend Jian Li to his home and his work; and, against all hope, they have found poor Fa Zhon alive and will soon reunite him with his family. Is it enough, Mother? May I come home?”
For a long moment the elder dragon looked down on her daughter, her blue eyes aflame with anger, and Fa Zhon was sure she would deny the request outright. But then the fires dimmed and Jin Zhi looked on her offspring with eyes that were merely sad… and maybe a little hopeful?
“You have indeed done what I bade you, when I cast you through the Gate and confined your spirit to that humble form, Daughter,” she said at last. But have you truly learned that which I hoped to teach you? I wonder…
“Demonstrate it to me – tell these mortals, who have taken up your cause and aided you, at some risk to themselves, the full story of that night five years ago. Most especially do you owe that truth to the one known as Fa Zhon, whom you first deceived, and so set in motion all that followed.”
Fa Zhon thought the younger dragon looked abashed, but she bowed again and turned to face the humans, who had drawn closer at Jin Zhi’s command. Khatia set him on the ground, and with Sujia’s help arranged his legs comfortably on his rolling platform, which he’d been surprised to find she’d carried up the cliff. Then Jin Hao bowed to them all and began her tale.
“The story really begins some time before that terrible night, I suppose. My mother has tutored me since I was very young in the magics of our kind, and I excelled in many ways, or so she assured me. But as I mastered the lesser magics and simpler transformations, I grew… very full of myself. I see it now, but then all I could see were the greater magics that Mother kept from me. Hoarded for herself, I imagined, out of jealousy and selfishness. After all, I was fifty years old, practically an adult… or at least I felt that way.
“But Mother insisted I was not yet ready to learn the greater magics, the truly powerful spells she kept in her books of lore. She said I could not yet safely handle the power and responsibility that came with such knowledge. I suppose I became a bit sulky for awhile.” She ignored her mother’s snort at that. “Feeling I was being unjustly treated, though, I found ways to sneak into the library where the Greater Books of Magic were kept, and knew just enough to coax a few spells from them.
“Not that I could really practice them, of course, not here at home. And I was never allowed to roam beyond the mountain alone, because Mother was fearful of anyone learning of my existence. For my entire life she has kept me a secret!” A little unresolved resentment began to creep into her voice then, but she quickly got herself back under control and moved on.
“Then came a day when Mother was called to a great conclave of dragons, the first in over a hundred years. She could not miss it, but she would not take me — no matter how much I begged — and have my existence revealed to the world! In the end, she decided leaving me alone for a tenday or so would be the lesser of her two fears.
“On the day she departed I immediately began to practice those greater spells I had pilfered. I fancied myself growing quite skilled in a very short time. Then, on the fifth day after Mother’s departure, a human appeared at the Gate and sought an audience with the Guardian of Loushang Mountain. Well, wasn’t that me, in my mother’s absence? So I reasoned, at least, and thus I descended the falls to meet with the human.
“Though I did not directly state to you that I was my mother, Fa Zhon, I knew you believed that to be true. In allowing you to do so, I committed a lie of omission, the first of my great sins that day. For dragons, or at least golden dragons, pride ourselves on our integrity and honesty – we do not lie! Well, usually. Obviously.
“When I heard your tale of woe, I would like to say that I was moved by compassion to aid you… as I believe my mother would have been. And there was some of that, truly. But mostly I was excited at the opportunity to wield some real magic for once, and do so in the real world. I saw it as my chance to prove Mother wrong — she would come home and see what I had done, and finally teach me her greatest secrets.
“I was so lost in my fantasy I barely noticed your departure, and I immediately set about preparing myself for the task ahead. How hard could it be to open up a new channel for the spring from which your little creek rose? Even easier, surely, to bring some rain to your folk as well. What an arrogant fool I was!
“I won’t go into the details, it hardly matters, but as everyone must realize by now I lost control of those powers I sought to command. Rain quickly turned to a terrible monsoon, uprooting trees and saturating the ground all around the mountain. Even worse, however, my attempts to shift the earth and open a new spring led to uncontrolled quakes. I tried desperately to stop what I had started, but I could not. Mother had been right, I wasn’t ready for such power… but the responsibility was mine now, for better or worse.
“Eventually I managed to dissipate the rogue energies I had unleashed, but the damage was done. The dam was shattered, Laketown washed away in a landslide, Songxi drowned, and (I assumed) the poor human who had asked for my help was dead amidst it all. When I saw what I had done I… I hid myself away, in the deepest recess of our home. It was there Mother finally found me after her return, six days later. At first she feared I had been attacked, but when I confessed what I had done she was… very, very angry.
“In her anger at the scope of the disaster I had created, she banished me, telling me I might not return until I had made what amends for my sins were possible. Then she cast me through the Dragon’s Gate, transforming me as I fell into the carp you knew. Passing through the devastation I had caused, in time I came to drowned Songxi, only to be enmeshed in the terrible, accidental curse of the two lost lovers. For five long years I sought to break that curse, but came to realize I could not do it alone… and you know the rest.”
There was a long silence after she finished, and it was again Fa Zhon who spoke first.
“For myself, as the only one here directly wronged by your actions, Jin Hao… you seem truly contrite, and from what I’ve learned of these travelers’ tales of your journey with them, I believe you have learned from this terrible experience. And you did save my village, in the end, if not in a way anyone would have wished. I cannot speak for the dead or displaced, but for myself… I forgive you.”
Jin Hao bowed again to him, and he saw silver tears in her golden eyes.
“It seems you have learned humility, Daughter,” Jin Zhi sighed. “That is good. I know you feel the pain of all the evil you have caused, and I agree with the mortal, you are truly contrite. But if you are to return home and begin the task of regaining my trust, it is not enough. There is yet one task you must perform – you must best me in the Duel of Shaping.”
The younger dragon drew back in obvious consternation at this pronouncement. “But… Mother, I’m not ready, not strong enough… not yet!”
“And so you echo my own words to you. Yet it is a challenge you must find a way to meet, Daughter. It is the way.”
“But how…” a sudden inspiration seemed to seize Jin Hao, and she rose to look her mother fully in the eye for the first time since she’d regained here true form. “Champions! Is it not a part of the traditional Duel of Shaping that one who is outclassed may name a champion to duel in their stead?”
“Yes, that is certainly true, Daughter,” Jin Zhi replied. “But the champion must be willing, as well as able. I see where you are going… which of your human friends would you ask this of?”
“A single human against a golden dragon? That hardly seems fair, Mother. But five of them, together, might stand a chance.”
“Hmmm. That is rather irregular, but there is nothing in the ancient rules that forbid it, I suppose. Very well Jin Hao, if the humans agree to fight for you, I will allow it.”
“You have done so much already, my friends, will you face this one last challenge for me?” The young dragon asked, turning to look hopefully at the humans.
To Fa Zhon’s surprise it was the young singer who seemed most enthusiastic about this insane idea. The others took only a moment to agree, apparently as crazy as Snow Crow. He quickly wheeled himself across the surprisingly level turf to a point as far removed from the coming fight-to-be as possible, and yet let him see everything. He was suddenly grateful, even if briefly, for his withered legs— they meant he couldn’t be expected to fight. A dragon!
• • • • •
Viroj wondered at young Snow Crow’s unusual enthusiasm for the upcoming battle. He was no coward, the monk had realized that after their first fight at that ruined farm last month, but not being a fighter by nature or training the boy wisely tried to avoid combat when he could. Now he seemed to regard it as a some sort of lark…
“Since none of you are natural shapeshifters, I assume, there will have to be some adjustments made,” the large golden dragon was saying, after hearing their formal agreement to champion her daughter. “You will be allowed to use your natural gifts and customary gear, including weapons, armor, and spells or rituals known to you. No magical aids, however – no enchanted or mystical weapons, no amulets, no potions, and so on — will be allowed.”
Viroj smiled as he saw Khatia disgustedly jam the vial containing the remaining three doses of the Potion of Giant Strength back into her belt pouch. Edain also looked a little less happy as he took off the belt and scabbard holding the Sky Blade, handing them to Fa Zhon for safe-keeping. For himself, Viroj was actually glad he didn’t currently own any magic weapons… you could come to rely on them too heavily, and then be at a disadvantage when forced to fight without them.
“Let the duel begin!” Jin Zhi roared, in voice that shook the rocky hills around them and made Viroj jump in surprise. Then the dragon seemed to shimmer and melt, shrinking and condensing into the form of a gorgeous (and still very large) white and gold tiger with glowing blue eyes. Suddenly Viroj’s incipient good humor evaporated… how dare this great worm take on the holy form of Kai Yi’s companion and helper, the great white tiger Fen Yang?!
With a growl of anger, he drew his sword — but before he could close with the supernaturally beautiful beast Sujia was suddenly there, tumbling forward to come up directly in front of the tiger. Almost faster than he could see she hurled two shuriken deep into the creature’s breast. It let out a deafening roar and swiped a massive paw at the young monk. But rather than roll away, Sujia dove in under the paw and came up to drive a fist into one of the tiger’s shoulders. Her fist had that faint glow that apparently only Viroj could see when she summoned her chi, and the blow staggered Jin Zhi, causing her to stumble slightly.
Sujia bowed respectfully to the transformed dragon, then darted aside as one of Khatia’s arrows shot through the space she’d been occupying, aimed at the tiger’s heart. But the beast let out another roar and actually leaped over the missile, to come down directly in front of Snow Crow. Running forward Viroj watched in amazement as, rather than dodging or fleeing, the troubadour ducked under another massive paw that looked to tear his face off if it connected, and plunged his dagger into the tiger’s flank.
The boy rolled quickly aside, and the beast’s distraction gave Viroj the opportunity he’d been seeking. Leaping forward, with a deep bellow he plunged his blade deep into the blasphemous tiger’s breast, piercing its heart. With a roar of pain, the creature shimmered and flowed away from his blade, reforming into a magnificent gold and white eagle with fierce blue eyes…
• • • • •
Edain sighed as Jin Zhi shifted from tiger to eagle form. He hadn’t been having much luck with avian foes recently, and with his left arm still not fully healed, and his inability to use that magnificent sword he was holding in trust, he was less confident than he’d been when they’d agreed to this exercise…
The eagle shrieked, a piercing sound that made his ears feel like they were bleeding, and flapped its vast wings as it rode into the air. Then it stooped straight down on him, talons spread wide. Despite his doubts, Edain leapt forward to counterattack, bringing his staff around in a powerful roundhouse sweep meant to knock the bird from the sky. But it was unbelievably agile, dodging his blow with a sideway twist, and was aided by his own injured arm pulling the blow up a bit short. At least the talons meant to rip his throat out left nothing more than a slight scratch along his neck.
As he rolled away and brought his staff back up en garde, he saw Sujia standing with her eyes closed… what the void was she… ah, he realized with a start that she was trying to evoke a ritual. Whatever it was, she apparently didn’t have time to complete it, as she was forced to roll away herself when the eagle stooped on her. The talons missed her, and then the bird was forced to jink and dodge as Khatia and Viroj unleashed almost simultaneous arrows at it.
Edain saw a sudden opportunity, and ran toward Snow Crow, who had appeared uncertain how to attack an aerial foe. “Boost me!” Edain yelled, and the singer immediately caught on.
Crouching down he cupped his hands and as the Pona Hanni’s boot landed in them he gave a tremendous heave upward, boosting his friend high into the air. To Edain’s extreme annoyance, however, the eagle was staggeringly fast, turning in midair to dodge his blow and actually ripping a chunk from his cheek! He dropped to the ground in a haze of red pain, trying not to black out. An arrow from Viroj kept the beast off him at least, even if it didn’t hit…
Through the red haze he saw that Sujia was still trying to perform her ritual as the eagle stooped now on Khatia, who had her sword out. She swung at it, dodging talons and beak, and struck it a glancing blow on one wing. This broke the graceful arc of its flight just enough for Khatia to leap up and, with a mighty swing, slice almost entirely through the other wing!
With a last shriek the eagle form shimmered and twisted as it fell, angling itself toward the great basin, where it plunged into the water…
• • • • •
Khatia felt a pang of regret as she sliced through the beautiful eagle’s wing. She had no real desire to hurt the magnificent golden dragon, in whatever form, but she was a warrior and understood the rules in this engagement. It helped a bit that she didn’t really think she, or any of them, could cause the dragon any true, lasting harm. She wondered what form Jin Zhi would take next.
The question was quickly answered as the water in the basin boiled and an enormous golden crocodile with glowing blue eyes rose up, lunging over the side in a shockingly fast waddle. Snow Crow was the closest to the beast, and to Khatia’s disbelief the fool boy somersaulted over the monster’s snapping jaws to land on its back, his ridiculous dagger slamming down on the back of its neck. The blade bounced off the armored plating, of course, and he was thrown off as the croc whipped its head around, the snapping jaws narrowly missing him.
The massive tail, whipping in counterpoint, didn’t miss him, however. Not quite. The youth’s wide grin was replaced by a surprised grimace as it caught his left foot just as he was coming down. Khatia saw him stagger into the water, rather than onto the dry land he’d been aiming for. The croc turned to lunge after the boy, clearly sensing his disadvantage, waist deep in the water and limping, and Khatia reached for her bow.
But a shaft from Viroj beat her’s by a second – only to be smashed from the air by that massive, flashing tail. Her own arrow struck, but bounced off the armored hide, as useless as Snow Crow’s dagger. But the distraction had been enough, and the troubadour narrowly dodged the snapping jaws, rolling over the stone lip of the basin to collapse, sodden and gasping on the turf.
Edain was staggering back to his feet, blood streaming from a nasty gash in his cheek, and she frowned. He seemed to be having terrible luck lately in battle – perhaps she needed to spend more time with him sparring, work on his defenses. But the thought was shoved aside as the golden croc came surging out of the basin again, intent on biting Snow Crow in half. Sujia moved in and hurled three shuriken in rapid succession, but each bounced off its armor as ineffectually as the arrows she and Viroj unleashed a second later.
Again, while not harming the croc, the shafts were at least distraction enough that Snow Crow was able to dodge the powerful jaws as they again tried to close on him. This time his spectacular somersault took him over the massive head and this time he wisely rolled away when he came down. Khatia drew her sword, arrows obviously being useless against this powerful form, and moved in, gauging how best to attack.
At the last second she was startled as one of Sujia’s shuriken flew past her head, having again bounced off the croc’s impenetrable hide. That distraction threw her off just enough that she didn’t see the great golden-white tail as it struck her a glancing blow on the right hip. She staggered back as the beast turned quickly, its jaws snapping shut in the air where she’d been a second before. Without conscious thought Khatia counter-stuck, driving her blade deep into the creature’s left knee joint.
It roared in pain, and in thrashing away from her nearly ripped the sword from her grasp. But she managed to pull the blade free and tumble away in the other direction. She staggered back to feet, wincing at the pain in her hip… nothing broken, she thought, but she was going to have an impressive bruise. Suddenly, she felt a wave of calm and peace wash over her… Edain must have succeeded at invoking his Peace ritual, she thought. But I’m afraid I don’t’ want to be peaceful just now, my friend.
With an effort of will she shrugged off the cloying emotions and turned back to face the crocodile – who apparently hadn’t been able to resist the divine call to peace and harmony! It was standing still and looking confusedly toward the Pona Hanni… Khatia didn’t hesitate. Taking a page from Snow Crow’s reckless playbook, she hurled herself onto the beast’s back and raised her sword over her head. She brought the blade down with all her considerable strength, driving it into the flesh between its shoulder blades. With a roar the creature bucked and thrashed, throwing her off with ease. But even as she landed and rolled away, it shimmered and faded…
• • • • •
Sujia took the sudden silence after the great crocodile vanished to warily move about the makeshift battlefield, recovering her errant shuriken. Khatia was breathing hard, as was a soaking Snow Crow, while the others scanned the area for the dragon’s next appearance.
Maybe it’s over? she thought. Jin Zhi didn’t say how long this duel would go on, after all…
But her hope was short lived, as once again the water in the large basin began to roil. In seconds their next challenge was revealed as an enormous golden crab rose from the water and skittered toward the rim. Its massive claws waved and snapped as it reared up to pull itself out, and Sujia saw its soft underbelly was exposed; without thinking she hurled two shuriken in quick succession. This time they struck, burying themselves deep, and golden ichor oozed from the wounds.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to stop the creature, and one of the ominously clicking, clacking claws seized her around the waist, lifting her into the air. Gasping in sudden pain, Sujia struggled to free herself, looking for another unprotected target for her shuriken. The eyes, on their swaying stalks, were the only option, but seemed too small. Instead, she focused through the pain and summoned her chi into her fist once again; when the flailing claw brought her close enough, she slammed her first down directly between the eye stalks.
The claw spammed open, and she dropped heavily to the ground, clutching at her bruised torso. Before the shining crustacean could reach for her again, Khatia was there, leaping up onto the lip of the basin and swinging her sword. It sliced clean through the joint holding claw to arm, and the appendage narrowly missed Sujia as it crashed to the ground. The crab reared up and then sank back into the water, which immediately began to boil again…
What will it be this time, Sujia wondered, and began searching around for any surviving shuriken…
• • • • •
Snow Crow had taken a needed breather as the others dealt with the dragon’s golden crab form, but as the water boiled again he felt he was ready for whatever was coming next. Though he was still limping a tad from the crocodile’s assault on his left leg, his certainty that this whole fight was without real danger remained solid. A solid 90 percent, yes. Because this was just the classic form, wasn’t it? Golden dragons were known for their virtue and honesty, and as generally non-murderous, at least as far as dragons go. He was sure this was all just a pantomime, and everything would be set right again when it was over. Yes, 85 percent sure…
As a giant golden octopus rose from the turgid water, he drew in a deep breath, and dashed forward. That single golden eye was a simply irresistible target, and he really wanted to bring down one of these animal avatars himself. It wasn’t like he could really hurt the dragon, after all. From the corner of his eye he noticed that Viroj must’ve had the same idea about that eye, as an arrow was streaking toward it and –
Snow Crow almost cheered when he saw a tentacle bat the shaft out of the air. Good, just the distraction he needed to make his own move. He dove between writhing tentacles, dagger in hand, and leaped — to be brought up short with a strangled >urk< as another tentacle wrapped around his neck. He dropped the blade to clutch with both hands at the rubbery, yet steel-like, appendage that was squeezing his throat shut. His hands slid uselessly off the slippery flesh, and his sight began to grow dim…Well, maybe 50 percent sure…
His last thought, as the tentacle hurled him across the meadow, was I can fly! before everything went black.
He came too slowly, surprised to be doing so at all… his neck felt swollen, his vertebrae lacerated and crushed, and it took all he had to struggle to one elbow. He was laying at the edge of the meadow, and a dozen yards away he saw the golden octopus still writhing around the basin, grappling with his friends. Must not have been out long, then… and Sujia is doing a better job dodging those Void-cursed tentacles than I did.
Indeed, she had gotten in close enough to hurl what looked like it might be her last shuriken right into the center of that huge eye – the spiked metal sank deep and the writhing redoubled, the great golden beak clacking in agitation. Snow Crow saw the octopus sink back into the waters, which slowly settled down again, only the ripples from the water falling from the upper basin marring its smoothness. I was right, the eye was the key he thought before darkness took him again…
• • • • •
Fa Zhon had been horrified when the tentacled monstrosity had hurled poor Snow Crow away by his neck, the body slamming into the rocky base of the cliff near where he himself sat. He’d been insane, of course, but brave nonetheless, he thought, and he was saddened — then he’d seen the boy take a gasping breath and try to sit up. Relieve had washed over him, and even Temu, who had been cowering this entire time behind him, had peeked over his shoulder and chittered happily.
“He’s not dead yet!” Sujia had cried out, and redoubled her attack on the creature thrashing about in the pool. When she’d vanquished the horror, everyone stood still and looked warily about for the next attack. But Fa Zhon had a suspicion that had been the last one – five forms, for five opponents. He could be wrong, but he thought not.
A moment later there was a flash of white light that blinded him, and when his sight returned Jin Zhi was back in her gold and white dragon form, perched atop the fountain platform once more.
“Well done, my Daughter’s champions,” she called out in her beautiful soprano. “The forms are fulfilled, the duel is done, ancient custom is satisfied. Now gather again before me, and bring the fallen and the halt as well.”
Edain and Viroj picked up the limp form of Snow Crow, but Fa Zhon waved Khatia away when she moved toward him. He was able to move himself about on this relatively flat land, and did so now, rolling over to join the others humans at the side of the fountain. Jin Hao rested on the ground a quarter of the way around the large basin, halfway between her mother and her friends.
“And since this was a friendly duel, as such things go, let us follow another ancient custom,” the elder dragon said, “and set things all aright.” Then she reared up, her mouth opening impossibly wide, a brilliant white light growing within. Before anyone could move, a gout of white flame poured from the dragon’s mouth to engulf the six humans.
But the flame did not burn! Rather it was cool and refreshing, washing over Fa Zhon like the water of the creek at home. It was very pleasant, and as he looked around at the others he saw their hurts, their cuts, their scrapes, begin to fade away. With a gasp Snow Crow sat up, looking like he had just awakened from a refreshing nap.
“Did we win?” he asked, looking around in mild befuddlement, and his friends laughed.
Fa Zhon felt a moment of wild hope, then… until he realized his own legs still remained as lifeless as they had since that terrible night. Well, it was foolish to have got his hopes up, even magic could only do so much. Still, a knot tightened in his chest, just a bit…
“You have done well, champions of Jin Hao, and proved yourselves worthy of her trust. And mine. But what have you learned, Daughter, from all of this?”
Looking abashed, the younger dragon rose up and looked at her mother. “Truly, that no one can do it all alone, that recognizing and admitting one’s own faults is not weakness, nor is depending on others, but rather it is strength. It is possible to accomplish together what one alone could never do.”
“Good enough,” Jin Zhi said, smiling for the first time since her daughter’s return, a truly awesome sight. “But there remains one sin left for you to address, Jin Hao. Now that I release you, and you return to your true form, your native power returns to you as well. With that, you may redeem the last of your errors, at least the last that can be redeemed in this world.”
Fa Zhon thought the other humans looked as confused as he, except maybe Sujia, who smiled and nodded her head. Jin Hao seemed to understand her mother well enough, however, and she rose into the air. In the garceful, mesmerizing way the dragons had of moving through the air she flowed over the fountain and landed again, directly in front of him.
“Fa Zhon, these friends have helped me redeem the wrong I’ve done to you, in ending your long isolation, and soon will bring you home again. But now it is in my power to do more, and I will not see you returned to your family less than you were when you left them.”
Golden light flowed across her body, and she wrapped herself around him, lifting him into the air. They spun around, slowly, almost sensuously, for seven turns… and when she set him back on the ground he stood and looked in amazement at her. Stood! On legs that he could once again feel, that obeyed his commands! He took a tentative step forward, and Sujia had to catch him before he fell. But she immediately released his arm, and his next step was more sure… and the next… and then he was running and whooping around the meadow. Temu clung painfully to his hair, confused but sharing his excitement…
When he at last got control of himself and rejoined the group, a bit red faced, he saw that everyone was smiling, even the dragons. He pulled the monkey from his head and bowed low to both Jin Hao and Jin Zhi.
“I thank you for this gift, beyond anything I dreamed possible,” he said. “You have my gratitude and that of my children to the seventh generation.”
“We all know that this does not amend the pain and suffering you have endured,” Jin Zhi said, her smile fading a bit. “But it is what we can do, and if you will permit me I will offer this observation: what you have gone through has changed you, strengthened you, in ways that you would not otherwise have achieved. I foresee that your story is not done yet, and I offer one last gift to you…”
A white scale, rimmed in brilliant gold, separated itself from her back and floated down to land in his outstretched hand. It was warm, with a heat he sensed would never fade, and seemed to glow with a faint white light.
“This may be used once, by you or by one of your descendants unto the seventh generation, to summon me and receive one boon that it is within my power to give. Simply hold it in a bare hand and say my name three times, with intent. I will come.”
Fa Zhon bowed again, very low, and tucked the talisman away in his ragged tunic.
“But you others also deserve well of us,” the dragon went on. “Did not my daughter promise to grant you each a wish if you aided her in her quest to return through the Dragon’s Gate?”
Jin Hao looked embarrassed, but confessed that she had, rashly, made that promise. ”And I intend to keep it, as best I can… while I cannot grant wishes, as such, I can… um…” she seemed at a loss for what she might offer as a substitute. “Perhaps I can do as you have done, and offer them each a scale to summon me at great need…”
“No!” her mother said emphatically. “It is a generous thought, but you are still not yet ready to be let loose on the world, however much you’ve grown. Patience, Daughter, such a time will come. But I think another test might convince me that time is sooner than I have thought…
“You have known these humans for a time, and as our kind can do have read their souls, have you not? Then show me what you have learned of them, and of draconic wisdom. You may select from my treasury an item for each, based on what you belief they truly need. Need, mind you, not necessarily want…
“And while my daughter ponders her task, I invite you to make yourselves at home here for a time.” She nodded her head, and looked beyond the group of humans. They turned to see the two mules, with all their gear, ambling through the short canyon from the falls. Between them and the mules a large table had appeared, filled with an abundance of foods and pitchers of drink.
The dragon invited them to dine, and joined them at the head of the table, though she herself did not eat. She was a courteous host, of course, and asked to hear of their travels, and of their time with her daughter. Jin Hao remained absent, and so missed the very first rendition of The Ballad of Carrying the Carp, improvised by Snow Crow on the spot. It was a brilliant piece, and Fa Zhon thought even the great dragon was impressed — she asked for a second hearing!
After eating they set up the tents and bivouacked that night in the serene safety of Jin Zhi’s outer courtyard, Fa Zhon politely declining Snow Crow’s offer to share a bedroll. He chose to sleep under the stars, which appeared overhead as the obscuring mists faded with the sunset, with Temu company enough. He realized that it might take some time to get used to being around people again…
The next morning the two dragons appeared again, along with a rather lavish breakfast. After all had eaten their fill (the dragons excepted) Jin Hao presented the Wanderers with her gifts, in lieu of her promised wishes.
To Sujia she gave a large, lustrous pearl with eight sigils delicately carved across its surface. One was slightly larger than the others – the mark of the Immortal Goddess of Healing. The other seven sigils were the marks of the Three Celestial Dragons and the Dragons of the Four Quarters.
“This a Pearl of Greater Healing,” she explained. “Touching a sigil and invoking the associated name will allow you to restore one being to perfect health — a gift you may also bestow on yourself. Seven of the sigils will not restore the dead to life, however… but that of the Immortal Healer Herself will, if invoked within a day of death.”
To Khatia she gave an amulet, intricately carved in gold in the shape of a dragon, with sapphire eyes. It was hung from a simple thong of black leather.
“This is an Amulet of Dragonscale Protection. When worn it increases the protective value of any other armor already worn. Even simple cloth will be imbued with a certain level of resistance to damage. Wear it well, and may it protect you from harm as you strive to protect others.”
Snow Crow received a beautiful cloak, the fibers of which seemed to shift in color and hue on one side, and to be a neutral gray on the other. A clasp of carved jade set in gold fastened it at the neck.
“This is a cloak created my the famed Xing-hazhi [Zing-ha-SHEE] weaver Yujinu [YOON-gee-new] over two hundred years ago. If you wear it with the colorful side out, when you touch the clasp and invoke the weaver’s name, it will blend in with any environment where you find yourself. It is no cloak of invisibility, but it makes its wearer very difficult to spot, if they are careful and do not draw attention to themself.
“When you reverse the cloak, and display the neutral side, it becomes a sort of armor when the clasp is touched and its power invoked. It makes the wear more resistant to damage from blade or club or claw, and especially from flame. Not immunity, to be sure, but it may turn enough damage to make the difference in a dire situation. With the hood up, only your face, forearms, hands and feet remain unprotected. Self-healing too, if left in full sunlight for a few hours.”
To Viroj the dragon gave an earring, a simple loop of entwined threads of silver and gold.
“This is a Fortress of Will, a powerful ward against possession of any kind. It also increases the power of its bearer’s native will, providing increased defenses against psychic intrusions of any kind. It should prove invaluable to one who hunts demonkind for fun and profit.”
Edain was last, and to him Jin Hao gave thick disk of chased silver, of a size to fit in the palm of a hand. It was adorned with strange, sinuous symbols that seemed to shed the eye unless one focused carefully on them, and was cleverly hinged— when a catch was released it opened like a clam shell to reveal a mirror of silvered glass in one half, the other half of highly polished silver.
“This is a unique and powerful artifact, known as the Mirrors of Harinal. Its precise origin is unknown even to Mother, but it is very old. When it is held up and one looks through the mirror of glass, any illusion present will be revealed to the bearer. Conversely, if one gazes into the mirror of metal and focuses the minds eye on what one wishes to look like, an illusion of seeming is cast over the bearer. They appear to the world as the person they envisioned, a seeming that lasts until the bearer gazes into the mirror of glass or falls asleep.
“There is said to be a third power the Mirrors posses, involving divine revelation of absolute truth, but that is something you may have to discover for yourself, Pona Hanni.”
Once the gifts were given, and gratefully received, the companions prepared to deapart. As the others loaded the mules and organized everything Sujia approached Jin Zhi where she sat watching from atop her fountain platform.
“One thing that still bothers me about all this, noble dragon,” she began after polite greetings, “is why the Imperial Rangers were so set on murdering all survivors, at Laketown and especially at Songxi.”
“A very good question, little one, and one I have pondered during my seclusion, as I endured my daughter’s exile. I suspect it was on the orders of Lord Qing Hai the noble engineer whose brain child this the endeavor of the dam and fields was.
“He is a haughty man, full of himself yet fearful, as such men often are. To lose the favor of a Guardian Dragon, within her own realm, would mean a tremendous loss of face to him — especially in the eyes of the Emperor, who was his direct patron. I believe the fool panicked and ordered the silencing of all who might have known that the Guardian of Loushang Mountain, as he believed it to be, had destroyed his dam in her wrath. Better to have no survivors than risk his standing at Court, in his twisted mind.”
“But I think very few had any idea where the storm and earthquakes came from,” Sujia objected. “Possibly no one, as it all happened in the middle of the night. Even Fa Zhon wasn’t certain of exactly what happened.”
“Oh, my child, to men such as he even a small chance of losing face is too much, and worth any price to avoid. He may well have felt it better to leave no survivors to complain to the Emperor — and easier to cover up that way, too.”
“Cowardice is the enemy of true vision.” Sujia sighed.
“You are very wise little monk, especially for one so young,” the dragon said, peering down at her with sudden intensity. “I sense a depth in you greater than that of many an aged sage. But also a darkness… let that wisdom in your soul guide you, child.”
With that the dragon took to the air, vanishing into the mists that once again hung over the bowl of the alpine meadow.
“We are but guests visiting this world,” Sujia murmured to herself as she rejoined her companions. With Jin Hao’s promise to build a monument to the lost souls of Songxi at the site of the former village ringing in their ears, they moved down the short canyon toward the falls. A heavy mist obscured the way, and it seemed to her that they had already travelled several times the length of the canyon. As she was about to speak up, the mist lifted quite suddenly, and she saw that they were well down the steep valley that led up to the Dragon’s Gate!
“Dragon magic,” she said with a shrug to Khatia, who was walking beside her. “I shouldn’t be surprised… and I was wondering how we were going to get the mules back down that waterfall…”
