Their Spirit Unbroken (Relentless Book 3)

by Ryan Kirk

  Bai gestured to the camp. “Why are you camped out here? I planned on finding you at the palace this very day.”

  Shu looked pained. “When we arrived, we reported to the palace. Yang was supposed to lead us. Although we possessed a sealed letter, the guards did not allow us entry without Yang.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a question we have all asked ourselves. Regardless, we did not feel that staying inside Jihan was wise. The situation is far too tense, and we are not welcomed by other monks. I decided it was prudent to remain outside the walls. I’ve sent messages to Yang and others, hoping to resolve the situation. Until then, we wait.”

  “Leaving the princess unguarded.”

  Shu grimaced. “We do what we can. I go into town every day to sense if monks approach the palace. Others do what they can, limited as we are. Our precautions helped us to find you.”

  Bai had wondered about that.

  “Would you care to break your fast with us?”

  That had been Bai’s other pressing question. Her body hungered for sustenance. Fighting and following Rong had taken much out of her. “I’d be delighted.”

  As Rong introduced Bai to the remaining students, Bai returned to the thought that had kept her spirits high since Rong had introduced herself.

  She no longer fought this war alone.

  17

  Delun returned to the safehouse where he now lived with a handful of other wraiths. The evening had been long and uneventful, but at least the morning sun promised rest.

  The past few weeks had been relentlessly calm, much to Delun’s dismay. He had hoped that his impromptu raid and murder of the guards would shake the bees from their hive. Chaos created fertile ground for enemies to make mistakes.

  The captain of the city watch, if he was the head of the Order of the Serpent, made no such errors. Wraiths had carried out the black powder the same night Delun struck. Others then watched the house for a week after.

  The bodies were discovered within a day by other watchmen visiting the house.

  Delun had waited for another attack. Wraiths quietly guarded potential targets, but the days and nights passed without explosions, raids, or any other sign that Delun’s capture of the powder had worried the Order.

  News of the murder of two watchmen spread throughout the city. Delun prepared for a public backlash against the monasteries, but none came. The watch treated the killings like any other. Watchmen combed the neighborhood, asking those who lived nearby if they had seen or heard anything suspicious. Posters went up offering rewards for information.

  Delun knew the Order had to suspect what had really happened. But if they did, they gave no evidence of it.

  After all his efforts, Delun found himself at a bit of a dead end. He had no new leads to follow up on.

  Delun himself helped watch the captain, but never had his time been spent so fruitlessly. The captain, by all appearances, was a paragon. His men loved him. After his shifts ended, the captain went home and rarely left. He had two young sons he trained in various martial skills. The captain never met with shadowy figures or spent his nights drinking in taverns.

  In short, he was the most uninteresting man Delun had ever tailed.

  The only gap in Delun’s observations was the man’s headquarters. He kept his command post in the middle of the city watch’s fortified barracks. No admittance to the grounds was permitted unless one was a member of the watch. The hours the captain spent within his post were largely a mystery to Delun.

  Delun’s fruitless observations left him with two possibilities.

  The first was the simpler of the two. The captain was exactly how he appeared. Delun had either misheard or misunderstood the watchmen in the house. He chased after imaginary enemies.

  Otherwise, the captain was the most devious of enemies Delun had faced.

  The evidence strongly suggested the former possibility was correct. Delun hoped for the latter.

  Regardless, he couldn’t continue on for much longer without something to show for his efforts. The other wraiths had been called to other duties. Delun continued his investigation alone. He lay in his bed feeling the weight of failure sitting on his chest.

  Exhaustion soon took him.

  He woke to the sounds of conversation outside. He wiped his eyes and rolled himself into a sitting position. Judging from the position of the sun, he hadn’t slept for very long. He rarely did anymore.

  He stepped into the main room of the house. Chao stood there, talking with some other residents. When he saw Delun he finished his conversation. He gestured to Delun’s room, and they both entered.

  Delun remained impressed by Chao. The man seemed to have his fingers everywhere in the empire, yet Delun had never seen him overwhelmed. His calculating eyes never wandered, and Delun suspected the man played a game much deeper than anyone realized.

  Even more frustrating, Delun couldn’t dig up who Chao was. The leader of the wraiths was a monk, but he possessed no noteworthy strength. Delun would have passed him without a second thought in any monastery in the empire. Yet here he was, coordinating the wraiths with strategic purpose and the force of his considerable belief.

  “How goes the investigation?”

  Delun glanced down at the floor. “Not well.”

  He didn’t need to say more. Chao kept a close eye on the activities of every wraith. He knew the problems Delun’s investigation faced.

  “Perhaps you need a break.” Chao handed Delun a folded piece of paper.

  Delun unfolded it. The paper contained a detailed sketch of a face he hadn’t expected to see again. He closed his eyes, knowing Chao’s request already.

  “Watchers at the gates recognized her entering Jihan several days ago. Our informants believe she is here to track down wraiths and kill them. She killed a handful a few weeks ago in Windown.”

  Delun opened his eyes and studied Chao. The man had spies everywhere, it seemed. Delun only caught bits and pieces, but he believed Chao knew virtually everything of importance that happened throughout the empire. His information probably rivaled that of the questioners.

  Delun had pried, once, about a week ago. Chao told him in no uncertain terms that where the information came from was Chao’s alone. The secrecy made sense. Information was power, and Chao’s information gave him considerable leverage.

  The more time Delun spent with the wraiths, the more he understood the value of Chao’s information. The wraiths possessed more knowledge about troop movements, watch schedules, and the comings and goings of vital personnel than any monk normally would. Perhaps that network, more than anything else, gave the wraiths the advantages they enjoyed.

  Delun had no cause to doubt Chao’s information. The leader of the wraiths hadn’t misled him yet.

  “Why me?”

  “Because you have faced her before. Her skills are unique. Every monk I have sent against her has failed. Somehow, I do not think you will.”

  “And my investigation?”

  “Our brothers will have their justice. I trust your instincts, and I am seeking information to use against the beloved captain. I only need time.”

  Delun studied Bai’s sketch in his hands. Over a decade had passed since they had parted ways. They had never been allies, exactly, but they hadn’t been enemies either. Delun had long suspected how Bai had spent the intervening years. Other monks spread rumors of a monk-killer. Delun assumed if the rumors were true, Bai hid behind them. In all his years, he’d never tried to track her down, though.

  He told himself it was because she had rendered him aid in Kulat. Without her, the rebellion would have set half the empire ablaze.

  Seeing her again, even as a sketch, made that story a lie. Chao was right. He had prepared to fight her, knowing that someday he might have to. If nothing else, the intellectual challenge had been worthwhile.

  But he had hoped never to use the skills he’d practiced.

  He respected her. In the short time they had known each
other, she had acted with dignity and respect. Many monks could stand to learn from her.

  Chao’s piercing gaze never left him. He had little choice in the matter. Taio deserved justice. They all did. If he was going to deliver it, he needed the wraiths and Chao’s information. Killing Bai was the price.

  He nodded. “I’ll do it.”

  “Good. And one more challenge. It must be done two nights from now.”

  Chao turned and left, leaving Delun with the piece of paper and more questions than answers. Delun stared at it.

  He thought of the view of the mountain from the walls of the monastery. The wild still called to him.

  He had no allies to turn to, no one he trusted.

  He would give his life for the monasteries, but he had no one to rely on.

  Delun crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a corner of the room. If Bai was in town, she was most likely the closest person he had to a friend.

  And he would kill her.

  18

  Jihan was not the same city Lei ran from so many years ago. He felt constantly disoriented, the familiar blending with the new, lost in a place he once knew well.

  Over thirty years had passed since he had last been here. From where he currently stood he could see the tall tower where he and Fang had fought their final destructive battle. It still stood, a silent testament to Lei’s victory that night. The sight of the tower brought back memories of that fight, of Fang’s submission at the end.

  Lei didn’t feel regret, exactly. He wished events had unfolded differently, but once he’d passed through the gates of Jihan he’d done his best. For as many times as he’d relived the experience, he couldn’t imagine better decisions than those he’d made.

  Lei wondered, as the guards watched him and Daiyu enter the city, how they would react if they knew who he was. Would they try to kill him, or would they flee in terror? As they passed the gates without incident, he was glad he didn’t have to find out.

  Since his fight and subsequent escape, the city had rebuilt and grown, eating up old buildings and constructing new ones. Even the gates were in a different place than they had been before, the wall torn down and rebuilt to accommodate the ever-expanding city. The symphony of hammers, saws, and blacksmiths could be heard at every intersection.

  Lei figured their return was poetic, in a way. When they’d last been here, they’d been running away from the monastery in Jihan, beginning their lives together. Now it seemed their mutual journey would end in the same city.

  They wandered the streets aimlessly for a time. Traveling lifted Daiyu’s spirits as it wrecked her body. They had been content in their little village, but their journey reminded them how many wonders the world contained. Even little details, like the items for sale in local markets, were unexpected treats. Daiyu walked from stall to stall, lost in exploration, while Lei watched the streets with a wary eye.

  He hadn’t seen any monks since passing the gates, a fact for which he was grateful. The news heard from other travelers was that the attack on the monastery had convinced the monks to remain firmly behind their walls. The Heron wasn’t located near the monastery, but it eased Lei’s heart to know he wouldn’t happen randomly across many monks. His strength wasn’t easy to find in a crowd, but Shu’s demonstration of her ability in Kulat made him nervous.

  He felt the tension in the streets, though. The events of the past few weeks weren’t enough to bring commerce to a halt, but Lei expected the markets to be busier. Merchants glanced constantly around while patrons walked quickly to their destination. The market was busy, but it felt empty.

  Lei assumed Daiyu noticed. Her perception was sharper than his, but she made no comment. Her joy at shopping Jihan’s markets drove away most of Lei’s nerves.

  They brought enough gold for a comfortable stay in Jihan, although not enough for opulence. Daiyu bought a necklace that highlighted her eyes, and Lei was reminded again how fortunate he was to have her in his life.

  That afternoon they arrived at the Heron. They were shown to a room, and Lei marveled at how similar the place was to his memories. For all Jihan had changed, the Heron had remained the same. No doubt the building had endured multiple renovations, but the effect was one of agelessness. They ate that evening in the skywell where Lei had found Daiyu all those years ago, and Lei felt at peace with the world. The troubles of Jihan seemed far removed from their meal.

  As night fell, Daiyu took a turn for the worse. Perhaps they had been too active that morning, but Lei said nothing. The experience had been worth it, for both of them. As she lay in bed recovering her strength, she turned to him. “You could seek out Yang’s students. There’s no need for both of us to be stuck in this room.”

  “I’m here with you.”

  She shook her head, as though she was arguing with a fool, but she didn’t complain.

  The next day dawned bright, the sun driving away autumn’s chill. They visited a well-regarded tea house, then walked along a canal, discussing their past history with the city. Daiyu had lived in Jihan for a while, back when she worked for the triads. Lei had only ever visited on random occasions, but often enough he felt familiar with the labyrinthine streets.

  Jihan made him feel his age. Some was the same, but his memories were of a different place. The city had gone on without him. It would continue on long after his spirit joined with his ancestors.

  For lunch they returned to the Heron, where Lei found Bai waiting. He swore softly, and Bai hurried to explain.

  “I made contact with Yang’s students. Shu sensed you as you came into the city yesterday. After how much you two spoke of the Heron, I figured I would find you here.”

  The reunion was sweet. Bai looked worn, and she carried a fresh set of bruises, but she smiled easily as they caught up with one another. The meal passed quickly, most of the time disappearing as Bai regaled her hosts with tales of recent adventures.

  Despite the interruption of his time with Daiyu, Lei enjoyed the company. He almost couldn’t see the young, fearful woman he had trained anymore. She was older now, confident in her powers. He was glad he had taken a chance on her so long ago when she’d shown up in his village.

  They sipped at wine as they finished their meal. The Heron never disappointed. Lei almost thought they might finish the meal without problem, but Bai’s concern for Daiyu broke the unspoken truce.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked Daiyu.

  “Weak,” Lei’s wife admitted.

  Bai gave Lei a pitying look. Lei imagined she meant to hide it from Daiyu, but his wife noticed it anyway. “My time is coming. I’ve made my peace with it. I expect you to keep an eye on Lei after.”

  Daiyu’s voice was calm, but Lei saw the effort she hid from Bai. Daiyu accepted her fate, but she wasn’t at peace, not yet. As it did every day, his heart broke knowing their remaining time together was so limited.

  Bai smiled. “Knowing Lei, he’s going to end up looking after me.”

  The resulting silence was surprisingly awkward for people who had known each other for years. Bai didn’t seem to know how to speak with the dying. Lei had felt the same way for some time, before he realized no change was necessary.

  Bai turned to face Lei. His stomach twisted in knots, knowing what was coming. “We could really use your help.”

  Lei felt his muscles tense at the suggestion, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and relax. “I don’t want to hear it. I’m here to be with Daiyu.”

  Bai sighed, knowing him well enough to be sure that nothing she could say would change his mind. He knew she was frustrated, but they all tried to move forward. They finished the meal with that gentle tension sitting between them.

  Daiyu and Bai had a protracted exchange after the meal. Lei gave them some distance. They were saying goodbye, again.

  He didn’t know how accurate Daiyu’s sense of her illness was. The healers hadn’t been able to say exactly how long she had, but she was convinced she didn’t have many weeks left.
She’d done the same in the village before they’d left, saying goodbye to everyone for the final time. She didn’t plan on returning.

  Though he’d watched a dozen similar exchanges, each still tugged at his heart. They were just another reminder of his approaching agony. Another reminder that there were battles he couldn’t win.

  That afternoon was quiet. Daiyu napped for a time, but in the evening they took to the city again, finding a restaurant Daiyu remembered. The fish and rice were superb, and the meal passed quickly.

  “Do you wish we would have done more of this?” Lei asked.

  She finished her last bite. “No.”

  Lei grinned. “I was always surprised you seemed content in our little village.”

  Her smile matched his. “The same could be said for you.” She paused. “Although I imagine you enjoyed not having to look over your shoulder every minute.”

  He conceded that point. They’d only been in the city for two days, and already his constant vigilance exhausted him. Peace of mind was a priceless commodity.

  She changed the subject on him again. “Bai was disappointed you didn’t join them.”

  “She’ll be fine.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m with you.”

  She sighed softly at his refrain. “The empire needs you.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” He watched the subtle play of expressions over her face. “Why is this so important?”

  She clasped her hands and bit her lower lip. Whatever the reason, Lei realized she wasn’t entirely comfortable sharing it. He waited patiently.

  “I’ve had a strong feeling, one that’s been growing lately.”

  Lei frowned. Already this didn’t sound like Daiyu.

  “I can’t explain this, so please don’t ask me to, but I feel certain that you are the one who will shape the next generation of the empire. When you insist on accompanying me, I fear you will miss your destiny.”

  Lei leaned back. Daiyu didn’t usually believe in fate. Still, her confession didn’t change his mind. He reached across the table and held her hands.