“I know very little,” she corrected. “The first history of the Tomes was written by someone who treated words like a miser would gold. It’s very abbreviated, dry as dust, and low on details.”
Shunlei’s head came up and he studied her with curiosity. “Truly? Then perhaps I should take time and write up what I remember.”
“Speaking for myself and all future Tomes, we’d be eternally grateful.”
Flashing her a quick smile, he agreed, “I’ll work on that. In my spare time.”
“We’ll be barely able to find breath in our spare time,” Mei Li grumbled, resuming her own sewing. “At least in the near future. But I’m still holding you to that. How much do you remember?”
“My memory’s quite good. I remember the events and the many, many missions I took on with the Tomes over the centuries. I do not remember much about the human magic involved,” he said with an apologetic glance up at her. “Apologies. I wish I had paid better attention, but I was understandably never involved in the magical end of things. My duty has always been to transport people there, and to either physically subdue something or serve as a distraction until they can get the barriers in place.”
“Ah. Makes sense, I suppose. And knowing that you can’t work magic, no one thought to tell you anything anyway.”
His shoulders lifted in a wry shrug. “Usually, that is the case.”
“Idiots,” Mei Li muttered, stabbing the needle through the cloth with more force than necessary and almost jabbing herself in the process. “Why tell the person who’s going to outlive us all the details? Oh nooo, better to write it down only once, so that if we lose the single copy, we’re all screwed.”
“I sense some bitterness on this topic. In my defense, I did tell them to keep duplicates elsewhere.”
Mei Li grimaced at him. “Because you’re a sensible person. It’s the rest of them who are idiots for not listening. The argument’s always been time and space. We have over three thousand volumes of records as it is, so if we had a duplicate of every copy, it would mean finding a space to put them all in. And no one wanted to go through the effort of copying every single record. A Tomes would have to do it, considering how encrypted the records are. I understood the argument, but do you know how many times Abe’s almost destroyed a record because he was eating while reading? Or knocked over a mug of tea? I almost had multiple heart failures as a teenager because of that man.”
Eyeing her with amusement, Shunlei offered, “My wife had the same sentiment. I’ve no doubt that with you as Master of Tomes, you’ll put the practice into place.”
“You’re absolutely right, I will,” she agreed fiercely. “Because we’re going to learn from this mistake. Assuming we all survive it.”
“You’ll be fine,” he promised her, the words low, his expression enigmatic for a moment. “I’ve already lost you once. You’ll not be lost again.”
That promise really did make her feel better. Coming from the man who had survived everything this mad world had thrown at him, it had more weight to it. “Thank you. Out of curiosity, what was the worst situation you helped with?”
“Hmmm…” He sat back for a moment, hands stilling as he thought. “Perhaps Kovel Below.”
The oldest cities, the ones with the richest magical heritage, had not only a city on the surface, but one that existed below it. Rather like an iceberg. Like time trapped in amber. Or it might be more accurately described as a mirror. There was magic, and creatures, and a sort of darkness to the Below cities.
Cities Above moved forward in time and as it went, it dropped pieces of itself along the way. The pieces fell Below, to the underside of the iceberg, as it were; a parallel city that existed underneath and between the brickwork. Bygone days and long-dead people still lived down there, as echoes and shadows. Frankly, Below cities gave Mei Li the creeps.
She made an encouraging noise and Shunlei continued, eyes still lost in the past. “When cities reach that point, where a Below starts forming, it’s very chaotic. Whole pockets of the city started dropping, or blending in with the older version, and we were losing people constantly to Below. It took a good month of disappearances before anyone properly realized what was happening, which only made it worse. I flew in with two flights of dragons, heeding a desperate call for help. In the end, I called three more. It wasn’t so much the dangers—it was rescuing people, evacuating a whole city in order to properly seal Kovel Above from Below. It was tedious, nerve-wracking, and dangerous all in the same breath. It took us months of dedicated effort. We were praised and publicly awarded for our efforts later, but really, the best reward we had was the first night after the cities were sealed. We could finally sleep a solid twelve hours without interruption.”
Working non-stop for months on end? That did sound brutal. “Shunlei, I hate to tell you this…but I think Kovel Below is due to be re-sealed.”
His expression was perfectly appalled. “Are you joking?”
“You’ve not heard anything about it?”
“No, but I only get monthly reports, and sometimes they’re delayed with the winter weather.” Shunlei whimpered pitifully, somehow managing to give her puppy eyes. “Mei Li, are you sure?”
“Very, very sure. Sorry. I’m not looking forward to it any more than you are. If it’s not cracking in the next two months, I’ll be surprised.”
Muttering imprecations, he went back to stabbing a needle through leather.
Mei Li felt the same way about it.
The leather carrier Shunlei made for her was a box. No getting around that. It looped around his neck at the top, with two other loops at the base that stretched around each of his legs. Another large loop reached around his chest. With four straps, the box stayed tucked in tightly against him, allowing little wiggle room, which Mei Li appreciated. The box was just large enough to hold two at a squeeze, and she could turn inside it once, or spread out a bit. It left room for her three new outfits, traveling cloak, magical supplies, and the thick stack of reports Shunlei had given her the night before. Mei Li should have been the one to gather the necessary paper, ink, brushes, and cloth to create talismans with, but when she’d opened the pouch Shunlei had given her, it contained everything she needed. It surprised her, as he’d been quite frank about how little he knew of magic. His basic knowledge covered the supplies a Tomes needed, however; that was clear.
Since she couldn’t really speak to either dragon while in flight without shouting, Mei Li took advantage of the relative peace to read all the reports. Shunlei had them organized first by country, then in chronological order, with the latest report on top. Each was in a stab-bound book, likely for easier reference and organization. If there was anything she’d learned about Shunlei in the past two days, it was that he liked to be organized.
She lay on her side with a lamp charm stuck to the top of the lid above her and picked up the country of Horvath’s first, as it harbored the two demons she was most concerned about. Mei Li started at the back and worked her way forward, the crease between her brows growing deeper with each report. Cracks in the ground radiating out from the sealed rock? Cracks in the rock itself? Strange noises at night? People becoming violent if they got more than a stone’s throw away? That didn’t sound good at all. Oh dear. And that was for both Zaffi and Jingfei. If the demonic couple broke their seals at the same time….
Mei Li shuddered. It didn’t bear thinking about. The last time those two were loose, they’d destroyed half the country and slaughtered their way into another. No one had an accurate death toll for them, but it was somewhere in the tens of thousands.
The Master of All Dragons had personally helped subdue them for a reason.
Feeling a little sick to her stomach, Mei Li grimly reached for the next set of reports, this time Tanguay. The Sea Walls of Tanguay might as well have been called the Paper Walls of Tanguay, apparently. (That was, in fact, the report writer’s exact words.) The magic was so thin people could poke hol
es in it with their fingers—ye gods, why would you try that?!—and no one was sure how the walls kept the harbor’s shape at this stage. They were just grateful it was still working. Barely working.
Mei Li nearly wailed in despair. The Walls were that bad and this report was three weeks old! Worse, it would take another two days at least for her to even be in the right area to do something about it, and even then she wouldn’t be able to act immediately. Mei Li didn’t have the magical power necessary to tackle something like this herself. She doubted any one mage could. The Sea Walls were huge in size and made with complex magic, after all. It would take at least eight mages to re-do the Walls. Two mages studied them now, but according to this last report, they had no idea how to re-do them and were instead focused on ways to lock down the docks so they could evacuate, if it came to that.
Mei Li didn’t quite roll up into a ball and cry, but it was a near thing. The stress of the situation pitched and rolled, twisting her stomach into knots. She’d never done this alone before. Abe had been right at her side with every magical problem until this moment. She was being handed all the responsibility with no transition and she honestly didn’t know how she’d bear up under the strain.
Being a Tomes Master was not a position anyone took on lightly. The safety and protection of the world was literally on your shoulders for the rest of your life. Mei Li had been taken in for basic training at six. She’d passed the necessary tests to be an apprentice at nine. Of course, the adults had explained to her what she would do, the responsibilities it would entail, but what nine-year-old could really comprehend it?
In fact, until this moment, she hadn’t fully comprehended it. Mei Li’s twenty-year-old self wanted to go back in time and punch her nine-year-old self for being an idiot. Being able to read books all day was not worth the stress of dealing with ancient, evil things on a regular basis.
“Calm down,” she told herself, panic eating away at her mind. Her breathing became a little painful and strained. She put a hand against her heart, forcefully moving her lungs up and down. “Deep breaths, there you go, calm down. You’re not doing this alone. You’ve got lots of help, right? Shunlei, and Rone, and other mages who are already on their way. You’re not alone. Breathe, girl. I need a cookie. All the cookies. Not that it would help anything, but it’ll make me feel better. I swear, I’m never boarding a ship ever again. Being lost at sea is just…no.”
“Mei Li?” Shunlei asked, his voice booming out over the rush of the wind outside of her leather carrier. “Are you unwell?”
It’s fine, I’m just having a minor panic attack, was not the answer she could give him in this lifetime. Opening the top flap, she peeked her head out and almost instantly regretted it. The interior of the box might be a bit stuffy, with no air flow, but it was significantly warmer than the exterior. They didn’t have snow clouds to contend with, but it was only for a lack of the right conditions. The air was more than cold enough for it.
“I’m fine!” she called back in Long-go. “These reports just worry me!”
“Yes, they are quite worrisome,” he responded, his tone a touch lower now. “But no problem is insurmountable.”
Did he mean that, or was he trying to reassure her? Either way, she took heart from it. It didn’t completely ease her concerns or tamp down the butterflies duking it out in her stomach, but she could focus on the end goal instead of all the problems in between. “I wish we’d been able to send word ahead.”
“And miss their surprised expressions?” Shunlei let out a low chuckle. “Nonsense.”
That had not been the reason why they’d not sent word. In truth, no courier would have been able to beat their speed. Elders flew faster than most young dragons could, and neither Shunlei nor Rone had wanted to send a fledgling out with winter storms threatening on a regular basis. It had been an entirely practical decision. Not that Shunlei was above milking the situation for all it was worth, apparently.
Shaking her head, she went back to the rest of the reports. He’d chosen to focus on the most troublesome possibilities, the seals closest to breaking. Just that was quite the list. Odom, the fallen deity who activated volcanoes in Horvath, was awake enough now that one of the volcanoes was active and puffing out smoke and ash on a regular basis. If they didn’t get him sealed soon, they’d have three active volcanoes.
Lost Souls Bridge was now in plain sight, tempting the unwary traveler—mostly traveling families, since the locals and professional tradesmen knew better. Anyone who had disappeared in there had not come back out. Mei Li didn’t even want to think about staging a rescue. She knew how to, of course, but the logistics of getting people safely in and out was just…ugh. It gave her a migraine.
Oh, and look, Ghost General’s Sword was rattling in its scabbard, deep within the depths of the Summer Wind Temple, calling for people to pick it up and wield it. Because wholesale slaughter was always a fun thing to do. (Look, a magical sword was in every sense overkill. Possessed magical swords were just ridiculous.) Mei Li smacked her forehead with a palm, the mild pain welcome. If it hadn’t meant releasing the demonic energy trapped in that sword, one of her predecessors would have likely melted that thing down by now.
And these were just the major problems! The “minor” ones—and Mei Li used that term very sarcastically because, in her world, there was no such thing—such as Acala’s Flute, that liked to put whole villages to sleep, weren’t even reported on a regular basis. Mei Li had to wonder if Shunlei even knew about them. After all, it was the duty of the Tomes Masters to keep track of it all, not anyone else.
Mei Li carefully turned on her back, setting the reports aside, and tried to think of the logistics on how to handle all this. Did she have the time to hit the minor ones on the way in between the major problems? Surely so. The minor ones were, by their nature, easier to deal with. Easier to reseal, to settle. It would be the work of a few hours, perhaps an afternoon. At the worst, a full day. Sometimes, though, those few hours or day made all the difference. She might have to make judgement calls on this on the fly.
One thing was for sure. There would be no chance for rest the next several years, and if she were to study anything, it would probably be en route to another problem. Aish.
Mei Li considered who to call for help. She definitely could not tackle all this alone and didn’t even want to try. She’d made friends with some of the mages over the years as she’d followed Abe around the world, both learning the trade and solving problems. She’d need to reach out, find who was already on top of matters, and who she could recruit. Someone who could send messages for her would be ideal, as Mei Li’s magic was abysmal in that regard. She barely had enough power to be a qualified mage and certainly fell far short of the average mage’s ability. Any lower, and she’d be considered a shaman—with only the power to invoke talismans and call upon spirits—and nothing more.
Hence being stuck in a backwater village for two years. She grumbled in renewed vexation.
It would be nice, too, to see some of her friends. Mei Li still felt overwhelmed by the task facing her, even with Shunlei and Rone’s dedicated support. It would be lovely to have a familiar face at her side as she sloughed through it all. When they set down for the night to rest, she’d try to find someone to send some messages out for her.
“Mei Li,” Shunlei called over the wind. “We’re setting down!”
“Alright!” she called back, appreciating the warning. Mei Li quickly double-checked that the top flap was strapped firmly on—just in case—then put the reports into the bag, not wanting them to knock about as they landed. She was surprised so much time had passed, but grateful for it as well. Her legs were cramping in this position.
Shunlei landed carefully, touching down as lightly as possible, wings spread out and hovering for a moment before he settled fully onto the icy paved road. “Mei Li, it’s safe to unload.”
“Thank deities for that.” She unhooked the top and slid out, not enti
rely gracefully.
Shunlei turned his head to watch her, concern on his face. Mei Li didn’t need a mirror to know she looked a bit mussed, her hair not in the tidy half-bun it’d been in this morning, her belt slightly askew and skirt twisted. She straightened herself out with a huff, then snagged her cloak out and whirled it on, shivering. “Oh my. That’s Tri-River City? It’s grown quite a bit since I saw it last.”
“Yes, this area has experienced considerable growth.”
“Which means they have decent inns to stay in and yummy food to eat,” Rone put in as she joined them. She was in human form now, hair looking windblown around the edges, but respectable in her dark grey dress. “Shunlei, are you going to stay in that form until we’re at the inn?”
“The carrier will be too awkward to carry otherwise,” he explained.
“I wish I’d thought of that before I got stuck carrying both our bags,” Rone groaned theatrically.
With a knowing look at her, Shunlei sank down to not quite on his belly. “Throw them into the carrier.”
“You’re such a gentleman,” his friend teased as she hefted both bags inside.
“One of those is mine, after all.” He clearly didn’t mind.
Mei Li was still getting her full measure of this man. He had such a grand reputation that one would think he would only be interested in doing the heroic, epic things—not something as mundane as being a luggage mule. But she’d not once seen him avoid a task, no matter how unpleasant or simple, doing it all with a pleasant attitude. His attitude proclaimed Shunlei didn’t find any work beneath him.
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