by Ryan Kirk
But he couldn’t find the anger inside him. His emotions were a murky blackness, calm and still.
He opened his eyes wide one last time, the effort taking everything he had. Delun still sat there, calmly watching.
Then Lei closed his eyes and couldn’t find the strength to open them again.
31
As evening approached, the monastery became a hive of quiet, purposeful activity. Despite their promises of assistance, the monks refused to leave their walls after the sun set. The evenings now belonged solely to the wraiths. Bai didn’t blame them, as much as she wished for a different situation. Ever since the attacks several nights ago the wraiths had become more bold. They stalked the streets with impunity. Rumors claimed the city watch had tried to enforce the curfew twice against the rebel monks.
Both times they’d been beaten aggressively.
The wraiths had decided to assert their control over the city. They held the dominant position.
The monks from the monastery went out in groups of four to walk the town, seeking the princess. During the day, the wraiths hadn’t attacked the monks, although there had been several confrontations.
However, the night after the attacks, one nighttime encounter had ended the monks’ evening searches. A pair of monks had come across a group of wraiths. When the wraiths discovered the monks refused to join them, they’d attacked. The poor monks from Jihan hadn’t been prepared, and from their reports, they’d barely escaped with their lives.
A tenuous peace held, but Bai didn’t think it could last much longer. For one, they were nearing the completion of their search for the princess. Thanks to the help of the monks within the monastery, they’d scoured the city several times over. They’d never sensed her.
That left only three possibilities. The princess had escaped the city, been killed, or was being held in the warehouse where monks from across the empire trickled in.
Bai didn’t think it was either of the first two. Killing the princess now made no sense. The emperor had heard no demands, and why go to the trouble of kidnapping the princess if one wasn’t going to demand concessions?
The questioners also insisted the princess hadn’t left the city. Bai didn’t trust the questioners. She didn’t trust any information she hadn’t acquired on her own. A questioner came every day to the monastery, always in a different guise. The questioner met privately with both Shu and the abbot, ostensibly the two leaders in the monastery. The visits made Bai uneasy. But the questioners hadn’t led them astray yet, and the information mirrored what Bai felt in her own gut.
If the wraiths gathered in the warehouse, the princess would be there also. Why keep such a valuable prize anywhere but in your most secure stronghold?
Even now, halfway across the city, Bai could feel a hint of the power. More monks lived in that warehouse than Bai had ever seen in one location. The power radiating from the building intimidated even her, and if the princess was there, no one in the world would be able to pick her out.
All of which led to one question. If the princess was in the warehouse, what should Bai and the others do? To that, they had no clear answers.
The abbot had called a meeting tonight to address that very question. For an hour Bai had wandered the grounds, hoping to find some solution she could present at the meeting. All she came up with was a dozen ways to get herself killed.
She was the last person to arrive, and from the commotion coming from the room, she figured the discussion had started without her. Several monks were present in the room, as well as Yang’s students. From the way they’d positioned themselves, Bai could tell Rong and the abbot were arguing against everyone else.
The division of Yang’s students didn’t surprise her. Of them, Rong was the least influenced by the abbot’s particular breed of enthusiasm and idealism. Rong saw the world how it was, not how she wanted it to be.
Bai was curious how Rong and Jihan’s abbot ended up on the same side of what appeared to be a losing argument.
The commotion died down when Bai entered. Many in the room turned to her.
Shu spoke first, asserting her authority within the gathering. “Bai, I’m glad you could finally join us.”
Bai chose to ignore the pointed remark. “What’s the argument?”
Rong stepped in, pointing her finger at the other side. “They want to attack the warehouse.”
Bai’s gaze traveled over to Shu. The leader of Yang’s students nodded. “It is absolutely vital that we attempt to rescue the princess. With our unique gifts I believe that a surprise attack will work.”
For a moment, Bai found herself unable to respond. Did Shu really believe that? The idea seemed outlandish, but she appeared to have no small degree of support.
Bai couldn’t imagine the attack. She knew her own strength, and confident as she was, she also knew there was no chance she could break the princess out of that warehouse. “I believe that is unwise,” she said.
“It can work,” Shu asserted. “With my gift, if we can get close to the warehouse I should be able to locate the princess. You and Rong can break your way in while the others provide cover. Perhaps if we set some sort of distraction nearby that would also help.” Shu spoke with absolute conviction. “I believe that we are the princess’s last chance. Even if the odds are slim, we must take this opportunity. We can teach the wraiths the error of their ways.”
Many of the monks nodded along in agreement. They were tired of being cooped up in the monastery. They saw Shu’s plan as the path to freedom.
Bai shook her head. “Against such an overwhelming force, I do not see how such a rescue is possible. Not even Rong and I are that gifted.”
Shu looked at them both, stubborn. She knew she had numbers on her side.
Bai turned to the abbot. “What do you think?”
The abbot spoke carefully. “I agree that we need to take action, but like you, I can’t see any way that an assault, even a surprise one, could work.”
The two sides seemed set in opposition to one another. If she didn’t propose an alternative, Shu might simply lead an attack with everyone who was willing.
Bai wished Hien was here. Of all the people she knew, the sly warrior would be the one most likely to come up with a plan that had some odds of success.
Thoughts of Hien triggered another thought within her, a plan Hien would be proud of.
“I have a better idea. Let’s turn the wraiths’ strategy against them.”
Shu swiped at the air as though she could bat away the idea. “What are you talking about?”
Bai warmed up to her idea the more she thought about it. “Consider this: Any attack on the warehouse poses tremendous risk. There are just too many wraiths. But the wraiths aren’t just in control of the warehouse. They are trying to control the city. I think we can stop them.”
“What do you mean?” one of the monks asked. He seemed interested. Bai realized the monks didn’t care much what course of action they took, so long as they actually did something.
“We set ambushes throughout the city. If Rong and I have support, we can take out three, maybe four wraiths at a time. We interrogate them and search for weaknesses, but we make them react to us. They’ll either need to commit more forces to the city to hold it, or they’ll retreat back into the warehouse, giving us the city. Either way, we fight them back.”
“But it will take too long,” objected Shu. “Every day that passes is another the princess is in danger.”
“And your idea is always there if we need it. But we can change the course of this fight without risking everything. And they haven’t used the princess yet. Whatever Chao is planning, I think he still needs time. Let’s make them react to us, and let’s ruin these plans. If we can force them into a corner, we can get them to make a mistake.”
Now it was Shu’s turn to look around the room. She saw her supporters switching sides. As eager as they were to get out of the monastery, Bai’s idea gave them a way forward that risked far less
. Bai saw the play of emotions on Shu’s face. The woman was disappointed, but more deeply than Bai expected. When Shu conceded the argument, Bai thought she looked like she was giving up on something much larger.
Bai didn’t understand, but with Shu’s concession, she’d created a much larger problem. Everyone in the room now looked to her, expecting her to tell them what to do. Even the abbot of Jihan waited for her to speak.
Despite her best efforts, she had taken over the leadership of the battered monastery and the survivors sheltered within.
32
Delun cursed Lei and the man’s final words. Even safely out of the way, Lei caused him no end of trouble.
Delun detested doubt. He didn’t consider himself a zealot, but he was a man rarely troubled by deep uncertainty. Over the course of his life he had seen hundreds, if not thousands, of selfless acts committed by his brothers. He believed that the strength and discipline forged in the crucible of monastic training was crucial to the attainment of excellent leadership.
Because of that, the violence he had engaged in to protect and promote the interests of his brothers had never bothered him. Pacifism was for idealists. The world responded to strength.
Lei’s comment about the princess had watered the seed of doubt Delun had been ignoring.
His actions toward Lei didn’t help. Strangely, though he had shown the old warrior mercy, he suspected he would have felt better had he fought Lei face to face. Poison was a dishonorable way to remove an opponent. But Delun was no fool. Had he fought Lei, he wouldn’t be breathing today.
The justification didn’t ease his conscience. He’d betrayed the man who had shown him nothing but respect, and he did it on behalf of a cause he didn’t fully understand.
He’d heard nothing from Chao since. Delun wanted to challenge the man, to find out what his whole plan was, but he hadn’t been around the warehouse lately. Ping was the most visible leader, and he only told Delun that Chao would return soon. Delun spent his days idling around the warehouse with nothing to do.
The lack of activity gave him time to think. Thinking led to doubt.
While Delun wandered the small space aimlessly, more wraiths continued to appear in response to Chao’s summons. The warehouse was always warmed by the number of bodies moving around.
Despite his daily exposure to the rows of sleeping monks, Delun had expected a larger turnout. At the last census there had been over a thousand monks throughout the empire. For as many bunks as were filled, there were that many that lay unoccupied. One night, Delun had tried counting the wraiths. He suspected there were about a hundred total. An impressive force by all accounts, but not even close to a majority of the monks.
If he doubted, he was one of the only ones. The others didn’t see the empty bunks. They saw only how many had gathered. Only Delun questioned why the turnout was so much less than Chao expected.
The first possibility was that there were far fewer monks than estimated. He didn’t know how devastating the Order’s attacks had been against the monasteries. Perhaps they’d killed more monks than Delun realized. If so, the monks here were a much larger part of the whole community.
The other possibility, which elicited less despair but more uncertainty, was that Chao overestimated how powerful his message would resonate with the other monks. The vast majority of the monks had remained away.
Delun suspected the latter. Certain trends were becoming obvious the more time he spent among the wraiths. The first was that he was among the oldest of the wraiths. The movement attracted the young monks far more than those of Delun’s generation.
In his wandering he had listened in on dozens of conversations. Most of them were driven much more by hot emotion than cold reason. He enjoyed partaking in conversations he felt comfortable with. Unfortunately, that number was less than he would’ve liked.
Delun did not feel any particular fellowship with many of the other wraiths. His fame had worn off, and the differences between them reasserted themselves. Most of these young wraiths saw change as an inevitable process, not something that needed to be worked towards. Whenever Delun urged caution, he received condescending looks that made him feel twice as old as he was.
With all these new worries, one nagged at him more than any other: Lei’s claim that his brothers had kidnapped the princess.
As much as he wanted to deny the charge, it simply made too much sense. If the princess possessed gifts similar to Bai’s, the wraiths would find her very existence blasphemous. They would have no problem treating a member of royalty with such disrespect. Delun feared for her life, if the rumors were true.
That chain of thought was the one that caused him to fidget endlessly and to keep glancing back at the rooms where he had felt another presence after his last meeting with Chao.
There was one way to know. No one had explicitly told him he couldn’t go there, and as far as he could tell, no one paid him any special attention. Eventually, his curiosity overwhelmed caution. He had to know the truth.
He stood up from his bunk and walked toward the rooms. He had little difficulty locating the same place from where he had felt the power emanating.
Unsure of proper etiquette, he knocked softly on the door. He heard no answer, but now that he was close he could feel the faint energy from within. It felt a little like Bai’s, but not quite. Whoever was inside was gifted, yet not in the traditional sense. Delun felt the energy moving around the room and so he took the risk and stepped inside. Delun had never seen the princess before, but he’d seen her likeness plenty, and it matched clearly what he saw in front of him.
But it wasn’t just her face that identified her, it was her character, revealed both in the way she held herself and in her raised eyebrow at his uninvited entry. This was a woman used to deference.
Delun bowed, not wanting to offend unnecessarily. “Princess, I am sorry for the intrusion.”
She didn’t look like she believed him. “What do you want?”
The question was asked almost as a formality, as though she had asked it a dozen times before and never received a satisfactory response.
Delun wasn’t sure. Coming here had been a whim, a flight of fancy. He hadn’t actually expected the princess to be here. Now that she was, he had no idea what to do with that information. As always, when Delun encountered a problem he didn’t understand, he reverted to naked honesty. “I heard a rumor that you had been taken hostage. I desired to see the truth of it for myself.”
“And?”
“I’m disappointed to find that it is true.”
That focused her attention. “You are not part of the leadership here?”
Delun shook his head. “My name is Delun, and I am not that trusted.” He realized, as soon as he spoke, that was the heart of his discontent. After all he had done for the wraiths, Chao still hadn’t trusted him enough to tell him this.
Her eyes widened at his name. “The Delun?”
“Yes.”
“I’m surprised.”
Delun imagined she would be. If she knew anything about him she would know about his attack on Kulat and possibly his role as a monk tracking down other monks. The fact that she had heard about him at all surprised him, though. It would make her quite well-informed.
Before he could speak more he felt a presence approaching. He’d spent enough time around the man to recognize him.
Ping.
Delun bowed one more time to the princess as the door opened and Ping stepped in. He looked between Delun and the princess, his expression unreadable. After a moment his gaze settled on Delun. “Chao has returned. He would like to speak with you.” Delun nodded and followed Ping. Part of him worried that he had overstepped his bounds, but he suspected he was safe. Chao had a plan for him that wasn’t completed yet.
Delun met the princess’s eyes as he turned to leave. Her curiosity was piqued, but she said nothing. Ping closed the door behind them, then the two of them completed the short walk down the hallway and turned into
Chao’s headquarters. Somehow, Delun suspected that Chao already knew he had visited the princess.
His guess was confirmed moments later. Chao skipped straight to the point. “Does her presence change your ideas about us?”
Delun shook his head. His mind raced. He didn’t actually know how he felt about the princess being here. A suitable answer came to mind, though, a question that had troubled him when he had only suspected the princess’s presence. “I am surprised. If we have the princess, why has there not been a greater effort to retrieve her?”
Chao focused his gaze on Delun, and Delun knew that once again he was being weighed and judged. Chao wasn’t deciding whether or not he trusted Delun, he was deciding exactly what information to provide Delun. More than ever before, Delun felt like another piece under Chao’s guidance. He would only be allowed to know so much at certain times. The information would manipulate his decisions.
Chao came to his conclusion. “There hasn’t been any effort to find her because the emperor doesn’t want her found. He wants her dead. We actually saved her life.”
Delun’s head spun. He couldn’t keep track of this game any longer. “What?”
Chao waved Delun’s confusion away. “For now, you will have to trust me. I am certain the emperor was about to kill his own daughter. We saved her and are protecting her. Her presence limits the emperor’s options. But that isn’t why I asked you here today.” Chao dove straight to the point again. “You let Lei live.”
“You asked me to remove him. I did so. I am certain that he will no longer interfere with your plans.”
Chao clenched his fists. For the first time, Delun saw the anger inside the man. “Who are you to know what plans I had? I meant that he needed to be killed. Do you have any idea how much your mistake has cost us?”
Delun defended himself. “Then you should have been more clear. I do not think Lei will return. Whatever you have planned in Jihan will continue without his interference.”