Their Spirit Unbroken (Relentless Book 3)

by Ryan Kirk

  Bai had no interest in watching the woman at work. She stepped out of the shadows and delivered a blow to the back of the man’s head that knocked him immediately unconscious.

  The woman barely flinched. Bai hadn’t been this close to her before, but now the proximity made her hair stood on end. Not from danger, but from a sense of wrongness.

  The woman didn’t care one bit a gifted stranger had ambushed her in her own room. From her lack of reaction, she’d expected it. Her words confirmed as much. “I didn’t think you’d come so soon. There was no need for that,” she said as she gestured toward the man on the ground.

  “What did you do with Hien?” Bai struggled to keep her voice calm.

  The woman waved her hand dismissively. “No need for dramatics. She’s being held in some shed outside of town.” The woman walked over to a small desk and returned with a piece of paper. She held it out to Bai as though begrudgingly giving money to a street urchin. “Directions.”

  Bai stood, open-mouthed, staring at the woman. She opened the paper and held it up to the reflected moonlight coming in through the window. Detailed directions were indeed written on the paper. The woman had even expected this encounter.

  The gall of it agitated her.

  Bai imagined hitting this woman, making her suffer for her acts. But when she looked into the woman’s eyes she saw only emptiness. Bai wasn’t sure she even had the ability to reach whatever remained of this woman.

  One fact was clear, though: if the woman had been waiting for her, the monks would be, too.

  The fact didn’t bother her. She looked forward to exacting vengeance.

  “Could you leave, please? I need to call someone to clean this up.” Bai bristled at the lack of care in the woman’s voice.

  She brought a sliver of power into her fist and drove it into the woman’s stomach, sending her crashing to the ground, gasping for breath.

  It had been pointless.

  But it felt good.

  The shed was a trap. The woman in the brothel hadn’t even pretended otherwise. The prepared paper was evidence enough of that.

  The directions took her well off the main road that connected Jihan and Windown. The ground here was flat and covered in prairie grasses, browning in the dry autumn weather. Off in the distance a herd of cows contentedly chewed through the tall grass.

  She figured life as a cow must be unbearably dull. All they did was stand around all day, chewing. Bai knew a few people who would have considered that a dream, but to her, such inactivity was a nightmare. She wished the herd well as she passed.

  She spotted the shed easily enough. It matched the description on the paper exactly.

  Bai didn’t bother to hide in the tall grass. Out here in the open prairies, even a young monk could sense Bai’s strength. Weak as it felt to most monks, without other people to hide it, she stood out.

  She stopped, though, and considered the ambush. They knew who she was and probably had some idea of her gifts. One group had tried attacking her directly. She didn’t think these monks would make the same mistake twice. Even monks eventually learned.

  If she was in charge of the ambush, only one solution made sense to her.

  Archers.

  Bai chewed on her lower lip. A typical monk would cast a shield to protect themselves from projectiles. She had no such skill.

  Where would the archers be? If they were ambitious, the monks might have stationed archers out in the tall grass, waiting day and night for her. Bai accepted the possibility, but found it unlikely. Such waiting was a lot to ask from hired help. She’d remain wary of other ambushes, but her instincts told her archers would hide within the shed.

  They would fire from inside, from the shadows.

  Bai continued on toward the shack, eyes darting left and right, watching for any movement that might be an archer or other warrior hiding in the grass.

  She also walked a few feet off the beaten path, bearing the slight difficulty of walking through higher grass in exchange for avoiding any snares left upon the packed dirt.

  When she was several hundred feet away from the shed, the door opened. Though the man didn’t wear the robes of a monk, Bai could sense a little of his strength. He was gifted, even if he didn’t wear the symbol of his status.

  He pushed Hien out in front of him. Bai’s friend’s wrists were tied behind her. She’d been beaten, and beaten well. Bruises covered her bloody face, and from the looks of it, the woman could barely stand on her own. Her left leg kept giving out on her, forcing the monk to hold her upright.

  Bai fought the urge to sprint toward Hien. More than likely, that was exactly what they wanted.

  Bai stopped well over a hundred paces from the building. She still hadn’t seen movement in the grass, but she summoned power all the same.

  If her guess was right, they would want her to approach closer so the archers had an easy shot. How would they convince her to do so?

  The monk pulled hard on Hien’s hair, exposing her neck. Even though the move had to have hurt, Hien didn’t make a sound. A knife appeared in his hand. “Surrender, or your friend dies.”

  Bai held up her hands.

  “Come closer.”

  Subtle. Bai almost laughed. Did the monk believe he was fooling anyone? She felt like she was engaging in a battle of wits with a toddler.

  Still, she was too far away to do anything, and once she got closer, it would spring the trap.

  Before she could act, chaos erupted, as it often did with Hien in the mix.

  The warrior’s hands suddenly came free, sunlight glinting off steel in her hand. Before the monk holding her hair could react, she drove the blade into the side of his neck.

  Distracted by the action, Bai’s barely noticed the sudden movement from within the shed.

  Bai slid to the side, power filling her legs as she ducked and weaved toward the building. Two arrows hissed wide past her.

  She felt a sudden swelling of power. A moment later the door blasted off the shed, slamming into Hien and knocking her to the ground.

  Another monk stood tall inside the shattered doorway.

  She could feel his strength.

  Nothing else moved outside the building. All her enemies remained in the shed. She knew she faced at least two archers and one monk.

  The archers were her true threat. Bai angled toward the shed, moving away from the two open windows in the front. Another pair of arrows searched for her, but her speed and distance made her a difficult target.

  The monk stood tall in the doorway, summoning a powerful attack. Bai suspected he was trying for the fifth two-handed sign. An impressive accomplishment. No doubt he assumed his power would be the one that finally overwhelmed her gift.

  But even the fifth sign was utterly useless against her.

  The blast of energy struck her twenty paces from the door.

  The world slowed as her body absorbed the immense energy.

  She saw the arrow leap from the shadows behind the window, then tilted her head as it whizzed past her ear.

  Her punch, powered by the monk’s own energy, collapsed his rib cage. He died with his eyes wide with shock.

  Then she was in the house. The two archers weren’t gifted like the monks, but their aim was true even in the confined spaces of the house.

  Bai twisted to avoid one arrow, but the other grazed her torso.

  Both archers dropped their bows and drew daggers.

  But Bai still had power to spare. She attacked before they could even set their feet against her. She showed them no mercy, ending the battle in a moment.

  Bai paused to look around. Her heart pounded in her chest and she battled tunnel vision. In such a state she could easily overlook an important detail.

  She saw blood in the corner, but otherwise the house was barren. This had only served as a temporary hideout.

  Bai gazed cautiously out the window, looking for assailants she might have missed. The grasses were quiet.

  When she
was satisfied it was safe, she ran to Hien. Up close, Hien’s injuries were worse than Bai had thought. No doubt, the blood in the corner had all belonged to her.

  And Hien had still surprised them.

  Hien gave Bai a weak smile. “They never even searched me.”

  Bai shook her head. “A shame none of them lived to learn from the experience.”

  “A real shame.”

  Hien wasn’t unconscious, but her awareness drifted in and out. Bai didn’t think any of the warrior’s wounds were fatal, but she needed care. She took a moment to search the bodies for clues that might lead her on, but the monks had carried nothing. She saw the tattoo on one monk that indicated he was a wraith, but that was a slim surprise.

  For now, her investigation could wait.

  It was time to take Hien home.

  11

  The monks left the monastery at Two Bridges two days after the pyre was lit.

  Several would have left sooner, but they all had responsibilities that could not be shirked. Food needed to be prepared. Possessions needed to be packed. And although the damage to the monastery couldn’t be repaired in a day, they all felt an unspoken desire to clear the rubble and leave their home presentable for those who came after.

  The whole monastery left at sun’s first light. Ping’s invitation had found fertile ground among the grieving monks. Delun guessed that some traveled for vengeance, but most traveled to Jihan simply to be with other monks, to build a new community.

  They walked the road in their traveling clothes. As a large group, they probably fooled no one, but Ping insisted the choice of clothing would keep them safer.

  Delun spent most of his traveling time with Ping. The young monk was the head of their small expedition, and he took a deep interest in Delun.

  In many ways the two men were opposites of one another. Delun had twice as many years on him as Ping, and the difference in their experiences separated them. Ping angered quickly. The young man brimmed with enthusiasm for the change he sought to make in the world. Barely a mile would pass in silence before he’d launch into another long-winded speech about the rights of monks and the fight ahead.

  Delun bore the monologues with patience. The monk’s earnest manner prevented Delun’s cynicism from rising much. He considered the young man a fool, but a well-intentioned one.

  The others latched onto Ping’s enthusiasm, though. Ping’s leadership was natural, an extension of his youthful exuberance and unwavering determination. Ping drew followers like spilled honey drew ants.

  Delun saw no hypocrisy in the young man. Ping trained daily, waking early in the morning to hone his considerable skills. He asked nothing of others that he didn’t expect from himself.

  Despite their differences of opinion, Delun slowly reached the conclusion that young Ping might be a monk worth following.

  They debated frequently on the road. Both monks wished to see the monasteries imbued with more authority than they currently possessed. Delun’s aims were more modest. He believed the monks should have a seat on the emperor’s ruling council, the small body of lawmakers that ran the empire day to day. Ping wanted to see monks exempt from every law of the land and dreamed of a day a gifted warrior sat on the throne of the emperor.

  By the time they reached Jihan, Delun’s opinions of the wraiths had changed. He remained concerned the monks demanded too much, but Ping impressed him.

  Ping had another quality in his favor, one that colored the rest of Delun’s perceptions.

  He supported Delun’s self-proclaimed quest to root out and destroy the Order of the Serpent. Several times a day, Ping reassured him that once they reached Jihan, their hunt for the criminals could begin.

  A day outside of the city, the fellowship split into several smaller groups. Ping worried about passing through the gate in large numbers, alerting the guards to the flood of monks settling in Jihan.

  Ping asked Delun to join him, to wait until the other groups had all passed the gates and made their way to the monastery or to various safehouses. Delun agreed. They passed the extra time in yet more conversation. Ping had no shortage of questions and thoughts to discuss. Delun rarely met young warriors who thought so deeply about so much. He admired the trait, but worried that someday Ping might think himself into an early death.

  Eventually they received word that all the monks had safely entered Jihan. Ping and Delun resumed their journey and passed through the massive gates of the city without a problem. Delun turned to walk toward the monastery, but Ping stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “My master has set up his command in another part of Jihan. The monastery is watched too closely.”

  A pang of regret seized Delun, but he shoved it aside. Ping said Jihan’s monastery had also been attacked in the Harvest Festival explosions, and Delun had several friends within he wanted to check on.

  But there would be time. As soon as the walls of Jihan had come into view, almost all of Delun’s thoughts had turned to vengeance.

  Ping led him to a rather nondescript house, one of many unremarkable homes in a section of the city Delun had never visited before. Delun paid careful attention to their route, but wasn’t certain he could find the place again. As they approached the door, Delun sensed two monks inside.

  Ping entered without knocking. Delun followed, passing a monk standing guard inside the door. The guard gave him a glare meant to be intimidating, but it slid off Delun. Ping led Delun through the first room in the house to one in the back, where another monk kneeled at a desk shuffling through piles of papers.

  Delun didn’t recognize the monk, and nothing about his outward appearance gave Delun a sense of danger. He’d rarely met someone so perfectly nondescript. The man was gifted, there was no doubt of that, but not nearly so strong that Delun feared for his safety.

  Ping bowed. “Master Chao, this is Delun.”

  Delun’s name served as introduction enough. Chao smiled, but his gaze was calculating. “It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Delun. Stories of your deeds have spread far across the empire.”

  Some aspect of the man’s demeanor made Delun’s hairs stand on end. His appearance might not be fearsome, but Delun recognized a dangerous man all the same. Delun bowed, choosing to remain silent.

  Ping continued, “Delun survived the attack on the monastery above Two Bridges. After speaking with him I offered him an opportunity to join us.”

  Delun noticed the sharp eyes behind Chao’s relaxed face. “I see.” He paused, considering. “Ping, you may leave us. Thank you for bringing Delun.”

  Ping looked surprised, but bowed and left without question. Chao’s authority wasn’t questioned here. Delun realized he wasn’t just standing in front of a local authority for the wraiths. Chao led the movement. For years Delun had searched for this man, and now Ping had brought them together.

  The two men each took the measure of the other. Chao spoke first. “Given your history, it seems unlikely that you would join us. You have punished several of our sworn brothers.”

  “Our goals aren’t as far apart as our methods. They broke their vows to serve the empire.”

  Chao didn’t appear offended at the challenge. “You believe your methods are effective? I know you are no fool. I know your past. You’ve traveled all over the empire for, what, fifteen years now? Twenty? You produce results. But are you any closer to your goal than you were when you started?”

  Delun shook his head, unable to speak, not wanting to show Chao how deeply the words cut at him.

  “So what is your grand plan, Delun? It is easy to criticize another, but if you truly believe what you have been doing matters, explain how. What is this deep strategy that will free our brothers from the chains that envelop them?”

  “My way doesn’t kill innocents.” Half a dozen instances of wraiths going too far surfaced in Delun’s memories.

  “A noble sentiment. One I agree with, though you may find that difficult to believe. Those you’ve punished deserv
ed their fate. But again, I ask, specifically, what would you do to give monks the authority we both believe they deserve?”

  Delun had no answer. He’d thought on it for years, but had never created a realistic answer. It was another reason he preferred taking orders. Such problems were beyond him.

  “I respect you, Delun. You’ve done more than most to protect the monasteries. Certainly more than most understand. But you haven’t gone far enough. For all your efforts, you have not given us freedom, and our freedom is all that matters.”

  Delun, unused to being berated, turned the question on his host. “What do you propose, then? Shall we kill all our enemies until the empire lays at our feet in tatters?”

  Chao smiled, as though that was the exact question he had been waiting for.

  “Did you know that Guanyu approached me when he first started planning his little takeover of Kulat?”

  Delun frowned, both at the fact and the sudden change of the conversation’s direction. In the brief time he’d known Guanyu, the rebel abbot had never mentioned Chao’s name. Delun still didn’t know who Chao was. The wraith wasn’t an abbot, but that was as much as Delun knew.

  It didn’t surprise Delun that Guanyu reached out for support. Even the rebellious abbot hadn’t been so proud that he believed he could have conquered the empire by himself. But why Chao?

  Chao continued, visibly enjoying the opportunity to relate a secret history. “I didn’t join with Guanyu for one simple reason, the same reason so many coups fail: force is a temporary solution. Lasting change happens in the hearts of people, and hearts are rarely changed through coercion.”

  Delun’s eyes shot up. This was the last thing he had expected to hear from the leader of the wraiths.

  Chao rolled up his sleeve, revealing the all-too-familiar tattoo. “Do you know why our symbol is a blade embedded in the ground?”

  Delun shook his head.

  “It represents two key beliefs. The first is that the monks serve as a sword to bring justice and peace to the land. But it is vital that this sword springs from the ground. Our roots must be deep, and we must work with the land to rule.”