The Killing Fog (The Grave Kingdom)

by Jeff Wheeler

  “Will you answer it, Wuren?”

  He rubbed his jaw, looking up at the stars. Then he leaned back against the post more firmly and, still gazing off in the distance, answered, “There are families in Sajinau who are discontented with his reign and have managed to stay beneath the notice of the Jingcha, my father’s spies. These people want to see change happen. They know what they’ll get under my brother.” He chuckled darkly. “Little. If I return to the kingdom with enough force, then it will compel a discussion with the king’s council. Civil war? I don’t think it will come to that. I wouldn’t murder my father, if that concerns you. I don’t want his blood on my hands. He would live comfortably the rest of his days.”

  Again she smelled his honesty. He wasn’t lying to her. That was blatantly clear. Budai knew of Bingmei’s ability to discern a person’s intentions, although not how she came by it. He also knew she had Kunmia’s trust. Clearly Prince Rowen had anticipated he could not deceive her. He was laying out his plans. The knowledge of which, if sent to his father, could ruin him.

  “What about your brother?” Bingmei asked.

  She felt a sharp scent, one that stung her nose. Jealousy, like fresh-cut onions. His expression, his casual bearing, belied it. But the odor was overpowering.

  “I don’t think he’ll relinquish his position,” Rowen said softly. “I wouldn’t in his place. He thinks he’s doing what is best for the realm.” He sighed. “But if we do nothing, here’s what will happen, Bingmei. If the Qiangdao unite, even temporarily, they can destroy any single kingdom. It almost happened to Wangfujing! I know I am right. Why wait as the enemy gets stronger? We must unite our strength and attack them in the mountains. It will take . . . years.” He looked directly into her eyes. “This is a task for the young. My father lacks the will to start something he doesn’t have the strength to finish.” What he left unsaid implied to Bingmei that he believed he did. “Call me Rowen, Bingmei. I want you to call me by my proper name. Will you be my ensign?”

  His words intrigued her. His promises tempted her. But she would not swear her loyalty so easily. She wouldn’t commit herself to a cause she wasn’t sure she believed in.

  “Maybe,” she answered.

  His eyebrows knit. “Maybe,” he said, then chuckled softly. “That’s better than a no.”

  And it was also quite far away from a yes.

  When dawn came to the abandoned town, Bingmei awoke near the steaming coals of Quion’s fire to the sound of seals barking. She stirred slowly, enjoying the warmth of the fur blankets wrapped around her. Other members of the ensign were already beginning to stow their gear. When she sat up, she saw Prince Rowen talking in low tones to Damanhur. The prince noticed her rousing and nodded to her, offering a pleasant smile.

  Damanhur, seeing his reaction, turned and looked at her. “Good morning, Bingmao!” He greeted her with a smirk.

  She restrained herself from glaring at him. Not reacting was the best course when someone was deliberately trying to provoke a reaction.

  Quion was gone, and his pack too, so she assumed he’d gone to look after the boat. The fisherman, Keyi, was also missing. She rolled up her blankets, tying them with leather straps, and packed them away. She’d slept with the sword in her grip, worried that the prince might try stealing it in the night. Even though she’d spent part of the night on guard duty, sleep had been long in coming. She’d lain awake, thinking about his offer. There was no denying it had tantalized her emotions. Then again, that had no doubt been his intention. She would not be rash in making such a decision. And she would certainly counsel with Kunmia about it.

  After they finished packing, they followed the noise of the seals back to the boat and found Marenqo and Quion laughing and throwing fish to a group of seals that had come up on the dock. The creatures were so odd looking, with their spotted hides and long whiskers, they made Bingmei smile. When one of the seals yawned really wide, she laughed along with the others.

  Kunmia stood at the dock, gripping her rune staff, and spoke to Keyi in hushed tones. The sky was void of clouds, the weather favorable again. When the rest of the ensign arrived, they began boarding the fishing boat. Bingmei stood by Kunmia, letting the others go first.

  “If we take the inland passage, it will take us ten days to reach the point where Keyi found the artifact,” Kunmia told her. “The farther we go along the rim, the fewer settlements we’ll pass.”

  Bingmei turned and looked back at the ruins. “I wonder how much time has passed since people lived here?”

  Kunmia shrugged. “The buildings are ancient, but they have fallen apart. No one knows how to build like that anymore. We should go.”

  “Wait,” Bingmei said. “I would like to talk to you. About the prince.”

  Kunmia’s brow wrinkled in concern. “Did he offer to buy the sword?”

  “No,” Bingmei said. “He wants me to join him. He intends to rule Sajinau.”

  Kunmia gave her a knowing look. “Wanting to rule and being fit for it are two different things.” She smiled. “It’s always easy counting cowry shells before they’re in your hand. This mission may prove fruitless, Bingmei. Fusang may be nothing but a dream.”

  Bingmei smiled in return and nodded in agreement. “We will talk later, then. I value your advice, Kunmia.”

  Kunmia hefted her staff. “I value you as well, Bingmei. And I trust you.”

  The warm comforting smell that came from her master was one of her favorites. Bingmei climbed aboard and found her place. Marenqo finished feeding the seals.

  “Why you’d waste a fish on them is a mystery,” Damanhur told him after he arrived.

  “We had plenty to spare,” Marenqo said as he jostled through the group to find his place. “The boy filled the net this morning.”

  The evidence of it was there in the boat, a net bulging with the catch. The smell of the sleek fish overpowered Bingmei’s senses, but all were delighted they had so many. Quion was the last to board. As he untied the ropes from his position on the dock, the seals barked and wriggled, as if pleading for more of the catch.

  Quion laughed, showing them his empty hands. Then he finished with the rope and held it while Keyi barked orders with his usual impatience.

  The seals’ complaints grew louder and more intense. Bingmei looked at them more closely. There were a lot of them on the dock, probably twelve in all.

  Something heavy slammed into the side of the boat, making everyone lurch and gasp. Bingmei gripped the edge, watching in alarm as the water sloshed up the side of the boat, and she saw something huge and black in the water. A white stripe marked its eyeline.

  The sailboat smashed into the dock, crushing the timbers and spilling the seals—and Quion—into the murky cold water.

  A ni-ji-jing.

  A fish that hunted men.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The Glacier

  Icy water splashed into Bingmei’s face, blinding her. The boat rocked as it was struck again, and she heard Marenqo cry out in warning that he had seen another ni-ji-jing. Quion was in the water, amidst the debris and the seals, and she felt a pang of desperate resolve surge through her. She couldn’t let him die. He was her friend, and their friendship meant something to her.

  “Grab my hand!” It was Damanhur’s voice, calling to Quion.

  “You’ll swamp the boat!” the fisherman yelled. The boat reeked of terror. Bingmei’s stomach wrenched as the floor shifted beneath her. The fishing boat had been struck and was spinning, the current yanking it away. A black dorsal fin sliced through the water near her, the creature’s sleek body, black on top with a white underside, gliding past. Then she saw the other one, and her heart shivered with fear. The ni-ji-jing were huge creatures, about as big as the fishing boat if not larger. They preyed on seals, which, she realized, was why they’d sought safety on the broken docks.

  She couldn’t see Quion, so she rose on shaky legs. Damanhur was leaning out over the side of the boat. He tried to grab something she couldn
’t see and missed.

  “He’s under the boat!” Damanhur shouted in warning.

  “If one of the ni-ji-jing breaches, it could kill us all!” Keyi whined.

  “Look for him!” Kunmia ordered. She was crouching in the boat, her staff held defensively, ready to use it against the man-eating whales. “Where is he?”

  Bingmei’s heart leaped in her chest when she saw his head bob up from the water. He looked frantic, his hands groping for the hull.

  “There!” Bingmei shouted, pointing. She shoved past Mieshi and lunged to reach his hand, but Marenqo grabbed her from behind and pulled her back.

  She saw a third dorsal fin appear on the surface of the inlet river, coming straight toward the boat. Straight toward Quion. Bingmei screamed in anger and terror. Marenqo clambered over one of Damanhur’s disciples and leaned over the side of the boat. He was taller than her, had a longer reach. He grabbed Quion’s hand and arm and started pulling him. Waterlogged and flailing, Quion kicked, his feet churning water. He was so close to safety, but the ni-ji-jing was coming too fast.

  Bingmei watched in horror as the one in front surfaced, opening a mouth full of long, sharp teeth.

  “Get him in the boat!” someone screamed.

  Suddenly, Kunmia pushed her way to the front. She swung her staff up and over the edge of the boat, striking the ni-ji-jing on the snout. The great whale jerked and went another way, missing the boat and Quion. Prince Rowen stepped forward to help, and he and Marenqo grabbed Quion’s coat together and hauled him on board.

  Quion was pale with fear and cold, his teeth chattering, his hair dripping in his face. Bingmei helped pull him away from the edge of the boat. One of the ni-ji-jing struck the side of the boat again, making it spin even faster as the current caught it. She could see the mess of the dock and hear some of the seals barking.

  Keyi was frantically trying to regain control of the boat as they spun toward the other side of the river, where sharp boulders were waiting.

  “Are you hurt?” Kunmia asked, leaning over Quion with a worried look.

  He shook his head no, but he was shivering so much he couldn’t speak.

  “Untie the sail! Untie the sail or we’re all doomed!” Keyi shouted. He was struggling with the tiller, but the momentum was too great. The chasm of the fjord loomed before them.

  Quion’s hands were trembling much too badly for him to be of help, but Bingmei had seen him tie the knots for the sail, so she hurried into position.

  “Untie them, quickly!” Keyi pleaded.

  Bingmei’s fingers felt clumsy, but she managed it. Keyi dashed forward, trampling on someone’s foot before reaching her. He quickly worked the sail, and thankfully there was enough wind to catch it. The sail billowed out, and the boat jerked in response.

  “They’re coming after us!” Zhuyi warned.

  Bingmei turned and saw a dorsal fin surface again. Keyi grimaced with determination and shoved against the bar, angling it so that the wind was pushing them away from the ni-ji-jing. The boat ceased its reckless spinning and lunged against the river.

  “Duck!” Keyi told her, and suddenly swung the sail in the other direction. She was able to crouch just in time.

  Then they were gaining speed, faster and faster. The ni-ji-jing gave up the chase and ducked under the water.

  “Bingmei,” Kunmia said in a tone of command.

  She turned and approached her master. Quion was still shivering, although Kunmia had draped a fur blanket over his shoulders. Marenqo sat next to him.

  “We need to get him warm again,” Kunmia said. “Both of you should be under the blanket with him. That should reverse the cold. Come.”

  Bingmei and Marenqo sat on either side of him, and Kunmia wrapped the blanket around them.

  “That was terrifying,” Marenqo said. “I thought about going for a swim myself this morning. I’m glad I did not.”

  Bingmei gave him an incredulous look, and he smiled. Marenqo did like to joke. Quion’s trembling lips tipped into a smile too. Bingmei grabbed his hands and squeezed them. He looked and smelled like relief. The scent of fear was dispersing.

  As she nestled against Quion, she realized that perhaps she was not as selfish as she’d thought. He was someone she would have given her life to try to rescue.

  There were some people worth saving.

  The days passed slowly as they worked through the inner maze of the fjords and waterways, staying away from the open sea as much as they could. There were plenty of provisions to keep them from going hungry, and Keyi and Quion’s knowledge of sailing allowed them to travel at night.

  The voyage continued for days. The inner passage felt like a maze. Bingmei was absolutely lost in the chasm of the fjords, which all began to look alike, but the view of the rugged, harsh land was impressive. Enormous glaciers had broken apart the mountains, leaving the debris of enormous boulders along the rough coastline. Bears roamed the rocky shore to feed on the abundant salmon that were spawning in the spring, and eagles flew gracefully above the snow-capped treetops. As the days passed, it grew warmer, and she could see the edge of snow receding up the mountains, creating giant waterfalls that rumbled and roared. Smaller boats could be seen now and then, some working huge crab cages while others used nets to catch the fish converging at the inlets to swim upstream.

  They no longer needed so many layers. Quion asked Bingmei about her scorpion pendant, which she wore above her shirt. She explained that she liked it because scorpions might be small, but their sting was excruciating. She felt that described her well enough. He said looking at it made him hungry to go back to Wangfujing.

  Through the journey, she enjoyed the moments of respite when they would beach the boat on a sandbar and walk around and stretch their legs. She worked on her dragon straight-sword form, and it felt glorious to exercise again. When she used the Phoenix Blade, she no longer felt compelled to call upon its magic. Every day it felt more and more a part of her, which lessened her fear of how the blade affected her. Clouds scudded across the sky, the weather often temperamental within the span of the same day.

  It took them about ten days to reach the bay where Keyi had found the fragments of sculpted stone. They had to take a winding river through a narrow gorge into the mountains, which emerged into a vast lake. They could catch no wind in the passage, and so they had to take turns rowing to bring the boat against the current. The glacier was an enormous mound of ice that touched the edge of the lake with its teeth. Snow had receded up the sides of the surrounding cliffs, but the mass of ice was thousands of years old and had carved a valley into the mountains.

  Adjacent to the glacier was a wide sloping waterfall that flooded down the side of the lower portion of the abutting mountain. The melting glacier clearly fed it, and the sound of the churning water could be heard from a distance. There was a sandbar at the base of the waterfall, touching part of the glacier. The graying chunks of ice from glaciers could shear off suddenly, so it wasn’t wise to venture too close to the edge.

  “Now that we’re here, where did you find the stones?” Kunmia asked Keyi as the boat glided closer to the waterfall.

  “By the edge of the glacier,” Keyi said, pointing. “I camped on that sandbar right there. Drank from the waterfall. There are lots of fish in this lake.”

  “Any ice bears?” Damanhur asked.

  Keyi nodded. “But plenty of fish for all. They left me alone.”

  “Let’s stop at the sandbar and look around,” Kunmia said. They sailed to the edge. It was getting late, and there wouldn’t be much time for exploring that day, but at least they could wander a bit. Bingmei was excited by the grandeur of the place. It felt almost familiar, although she wasn’t sure why. She’d seen dozens of glaciers before, but this one looked different.

  When they beached the boat on the sandbar, Quion asked if he should start a fire. Kunmia shook her head, not wanting to attract attention with the smoke, but asked him to gather firewood with Marenqo. Bingmei walked along the
edge of the sandbar, admiring the view of the glacier. The beauty was almost painful to behold.

  Chunks of ice floated along the edge of the lake. She hugged herself, feeling the waves of cold coming off the glacier. It would be cold when the sun set. Bitterly cold.

  She made her way over to the waterfall. The water rushed down the angle of the mountain, crashing into the lake. She smelled fish and wondered if Quion was nearby, but she didn’t see him. The wind shifted, and she smelled Prince Rowen coming up behind her. She turned as he came to a stop beside her. He watched the waterfall for a moment, arms folded across his chest.

  “What a savage land,” he said.

  She wondered why he’d chosen that moment to approach her. “One must be a little savage to survive,” Bingmei replied, gazing at the waterfall. The wind shifted again a few moments later, coming down from the mountain. The stench stung her nose, and she realized that there were people hiding behind the waterfall, watching them. She knew the smell, the stench of the Qiangdao. Memories from her childhood struck her. This was a familiar smell, one she’d sought for years. The smell of her parents’ killers.

  “They’re here,” she breathed, feeling fear spasm inside her heart.

  “Who?” Rowen asked.

  And from behind the hidden veil of the falls charged a band of Qiangdao, weapons raised, screaming in challenge as they closed in on her and Rowen.

  The others were too far away to help.

  The Phoenix Blade shot straight up from her scabbard. She felt the magic of the blade surging through her, invoked by its own command. Aghast, she stared up at it in terrified wonder. When the pommel swiveled down, she felt the instinct to reach up for it. It settled into her hand as if summoned by her.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Chosen

  Bingmei felt the magic of the blade ripple down her arm as she dropped into a pose from dragon straight sword. Her blood felt like fire in her veins, but she felt no fear. She felt only calm determination. She smelled Prince Rowen’s sudden flush of fear, but he drew two long daggers from his belt and set his stance to defend. Some cries of warning sounded from the others gathered around the boat.