by Dave Gross
It was with that motive in my heart that I approached Master Li days before our departure from Dragon Temple.
The aged monk raised a silencing finger before I could speak. In his other hand he held the simple bamboo pole that I had seen him carry over his shoulder every day since we met at the outer gate to the temple. He sat upon a flat rock jutting over the edge of the pool that lay between the first and second gates.
I waited until he lifted the pole for another cast.
“Master—”
Again he gestured for silence. He motioned for me to sit beside him, and I obeyed.
So near to spring, the swallows had returned to rebuild their nests. The mated pairs called to each other as they took turns gathering twigs and dead grass before returning to their chosen tree.
I contemplated the pool. It was not truly a pond but a tiny lake fed by the same stream that ran through the temple grounds. The water was perfectly clear, the bottom clean and sandy. As if brought to life from a painting, it was the ideal of a tranquil pool. Yet there was something missing. With a start, I realized the omission.
“Master Li, there are no fish in the pool.”
The old man made no indication that he had heard me. He cast his line again. There was no bait upon his hook.
A squabble broke out in the branches above us. A sparrow intruded upon another’s territory, or perhaps two solitary birds quarreled over a mate.
“When I came to Dragon Temple, I thought myself quite old,” said Master Li. “I was nearly twenty-three.”
While I had yet to see an elf, much less another half-elf, since arriving in Tian Xia, I knew our kind were not unknown in these lands. Master Li had to understand that I was decades older than he, but I suspected my longevity was not the thrust of his argument.
“I became a monk because I quarreled with my brother over a woman. Only by forsaking our worldly passions could we find peace, he as a guardian of Iron Mountain, I as an instructor at Dragon Temple.”
Silently I awaited further detail.
“A young man believes the Wheel of Heaven encircles his every desire. Whatever he perceives, he understands only in relation to how it flatters his vanity. To the young man, that which thwarts his desire is wicked. That which exceeds his understanding is a puzzle to be solved. A young man is not content until all the world is arrayed about his feet that he may look down upon it.”
I contemplated his words as the Wheel of Heaven turned invisibly around us. Before I felt the slightest glimmer of enlightenment, Master Li rose and affixed the hook to the base of his fishing rod. Only then did I realize we had sat silently for hours, not the few minutes during which I had been aware of the outer world. I followed him back into the inner gate and bowed. As I turned to join my brothers at supper, Master Li spoke once more.
“We are all young men.”
From that moment my need to share my suspicions with the masters waned.
Still, I considered confronting Kwan directly. His royal status did not awe me, not here in Dragon Temple, where princes and fishermen and brawlers and counts of Cheliax were brothers. And there was something meaningful to that leveling of status. If a “foreign devil” such as I felt it, how could Kwan, prince or peasant, not feel it too? Whatever differences lay between us, I had no fear of confronting them man to man. Yet beyond demanding an explanation I felt he would not yield, I could think of no effective method of interrogating my crafty peer.
Instead, I concentrated on instructing my brothers in the rudiments of wizardry. Through the early months of spring, they rewarded my efforts by proving apt pupils. Soon all nine were capable of casting the available cantrips and one or two spells of substance. We had even begun to discuss simple tactics for coordinated casting when Master Li announced it was time to depart for Iron Mountain.
We left Dragon Temple the next morning, pausing only to allow Master Wu to remove talismans from secret compartments on the sentinel statues flanking the outer gates. He placed one on a cord around his neck and gave the other to Master Li, who did the same. Much as I longed to know more about the amulets, I dared not disturb the equilibrium I had felt since my silent interview with Master Li.
We marched for ten days before reaching the Valley of the Flying Mountains, where the procession paused so the leaders might consult on the matter of the oni war band. After the discussion at the palanquin, Master Wu signaled the resumption of our march.
It was he who had organized us into nine groups of six. One group included the swiftest runners and the foremost practitioners of the Six Subtle Weapons of Irori. They were our scouts, shuttling back and forth with reports of what lay ahead.
Six other squads supplemented the twenty royal guards in defending the royal emissary. Secretly I wished to be among them, especially when Kwan enjoyed the honor of Elder Brother in his group. His proximity to the princess kept me ever aware of his location.
The remaining two squads were our reserve units, including all of my students of the arcane and two others. One of these was Mon Choi, who took it as small consolation that I treated him as my unofficial lieutenant. Like me, he gazed frequently at Kwan, although the nature of his longing could not have been more different from mine. Despite his many kindnesses to me, he longed to stand beside the great hero of Dragon Temple, not the foreign devil.
Brother Deming led the other group of wizard-monks. We consulted at every opportunity in deciding which spells were best suited to our mutual defense. While my preference was for the often spectacular evocations for which wizards are known and feared throughout Golarion, my students preferred spells allowing them to strike an unerring blow or to jump higher than even Brother Kwan. Heeding the advice of Brother Deming, I agreed that the others should be allowed to enhance their physical prowess at the expense of preparing a wider array of spells. It fell to me to prepare a variety of spells, and so I filled my sleeves and sash with flying scrolls.
A couple of hours before noon, the scouts reported an enormous animal carcass ahead. We did not vary course. A few dog-sized mammals fled as we approached the body.
The remains more resembled a rhinoceros, albeit a specimen closer to the size of an elephant. The other significant variance was a bifurcated horn at the end of its snout. The creature had died recently. Its wounds already teemed with carrion insects, but they were obviously the result of steel blades, not the teeth and claws of a rival predator. I turned to say as much to Master Wu, but I saw from his expression that he already comprehended the evidence.
A deep rumbling shook the ground. Previously silent birds cried out and flew east.
From the west I heard the sound of a man running through the forest. I signaled the direction to my brothers. A moment later, they heard it also.
As the royal guards closed ranks around the palanquin, Jade Tiger stood tall in his stirrups and peered into the distance. I signaled my men and cast the first of my preparatory spells, trusting that Deming had done the same.
The sound of approaching thunder increased. Far above, the treetops shook. Closer still, I heard the scout’s body slapping fronds and branches as he ran toward us. He cried out a warning that only I could hear. I repeated it for the others. “The oni come!”
Everyone heard the scream that followed. Above the scout a dark shape leaped through the trees. Beside me, Mon Choi shifted as he saw movement from another direction. Then the trees began to fall toward us, and the first oni burst out of the forest.
Astride a gigantic two-horned rhinoceros, the leader raised a huge glaive above his head and bleated a challenge. Six more brutes with enormous maces ran beside him. They crashed through two squads before we reserves intercepted them. My brothers sweetened their weapons with spells and stabbed deep into the hide of the riding beast.
I loosed a beam of fire upon the rider. The oni bellowed and slapped the flames from his cloak, ob
livious that seconds later he would feel the fiery candle of his greasy ponytail.
To either side of the leader, hulking oni swept into the defenders. Two monks wielding hammers stood fast against the charge. In an instant, the pendulum of an ogre-thing’s mace lifted one and flung his ruined body into a tree. In the next, another oni trampled the second to moist pulp.
I set another scroll to fly above the oni. Its magic fell upon them like honey rain, stiffening their joints and slowing their charge.
A sharp cry drew my attention back to the palanquin. Still mounted, Jade Tiger snapped his fan. The royal guards returned their spears to point outward. Whatever they had struck fell in a dark clump of silk and black feathers. A glimpse of yellow talons and a long dark beak reminded me of tengus, the raven-headed assassins of Tian Xia.
All around, the unmistakable voices of goblins rose in ululating song. They scurried in after the oni-wreaked carnage. Most soon fell to the staves, fists, and other weapons of my brothers. One shrieked in crescendo as Yingjie hoisted him on the point of his snake halberd.
As my brothers pulled the oni from the dying rhinoceros, second and third waves of goblins and tengus ran howling into camp. Mon Choi roared as his hammers plunged down to pulverize the rider’s head.
I threw a scroll to send a serpentine line of fire through the charging monsters. The goblins blackened and perished in an instant. A tengu leaped the barrier with a bark of triumph that soon turned to alarm when the rising flames ignited its feathers. It shrieked out its last moments thrashing on the ground.
A few swift attackers darted past the outer ring of defenders and rushed the royal palanquin. Flinging another scroll, I struck three goblins and a tengu with missiles of pure magic. All faltered, but none fell until they approached the circle of royal guards.
The goblins leaped in a vain attempt to climb the spear shafts. Despite their bravado, none had even a fraction of Kwan’s alacrity. Only a few of their severed limbs made it past the barrier of blades.
A few timid goblins balked at the sight of their comrades’ fate. The tengus paused long enough to hurl throwing stars at the guards. As the spearmen dodged, the bird-men dashed under their blades to stab with their daggers and sharp beaks.
The princess swung out of the palanquin window and onto its roof, the guqin in her arms. She sat in a perfect lotus posture, the instrument upon her lap.
“Your highness!” cried Jade Tiger. “I beg you to return to cover.”
Lanfen ignored his plea. She struck a dissonant chord across the guqin strings, drawing the attention of every combatant, monk and monster alike.
The nearest tengus scrambled up the bodies of the royal guards, too close for the men to strike with their spears. They leaped above the palanquin, daggers poised.
Princess Lanfen’s hands lashed the guqin, each stroke evoking a chord more terrible than the last. Witch-fire emanated from her fingers, and the strings flung the magic out in all directions. Where it struck the tengus, only black feathers floated down to the earth. The goblins it rendered into steaming piles of fat and bones.
I stared in awe of her power for only an instant, but an instant is all it took for the enemy to pounce.
A pair of goblins fell upon me, clawing and stabbing. I let myself fall under their weight, rolling as I kicked one away and struck the other a stunning blow to the throat. My momentum brought me back to my feet, where I grasped the Shadowless Sword, struck twice, shook off the blood, and returned the blade to its sheath.
The goblins clutched their throats, gurgled, and died.
The action was complete before it had formed in my mind. Some small portion of my heart wished to relish the moment, but instead I turned in a circle to evaluate the course of battle.
Master Wu fought a horned and painted oni clutching an iron scepter in one hand and a tattered scroll in the other. The surly monk calculated his strikes to stifle his foe’s every utterance and arcane gesture. I took a step toward him, but then I saw Runme and three others run to his side to finish off the oni.
On another side of the field, six of my brothers defended Master Li as he pressed his healing hands against the bloodied neck of Lu Bai. Briefly I saw the translucent image of an enormous qilin surrounding Master Li. At that point I understood something of the nature of the talismans the masters had taken from the temple guardians.
The monks of Dragon Temple scattered the remaining attackers. Without exception, their discipline kept them from chasing the defeated foes. Instead they returned to defend the royal procession and tend the dying.
Two of the palanquin guards had fallen. The survivors closed ranks around the vehicle. Above them, Princess Lanfen stood upon the roof, her magic guqin at her feet.
“Help them.” She pointed to a few groups of monks still fighting goblins.
The guards hesitated, looking to the eunuch for confirmation.
Jade Tiger shook his fan, indicated six of the guards, and sent them off to reinforce the monks. I began to follow, but out of the corner of my vision I saw Kwan sprinting toward the palanquin. He moved so swiftly that no one else had yet marked his approach.
“Princess!” I realized my mistake as soon as I cried out. She turned to me, away from Kwan, completely unaware of his charge.
I ran, knowing as I did that I would never reach her before Kwan. Unless, I realized, I spared a moment to enchant myself. I threw the scroll that gave me speed.
Combined with the spell that made steel coils of my legs, my magic let me fly far above the guards’ spears. I drew the Shadowless Sword as I descended toward the palanquin. I reached the princess just as Kwan’s shadow fell upon her face. She saw him then, turning with excruciating slowness as he thrust his staff like a spear.
In that final instant, I understood Kwan’s true intention. I too saw the blurred image of a fat, orange oni descending toward the princess.
Jade Tiger snapped his fan toward us.
Kwan’s staff deflected the monster’s trident from its intended target, the princess.
With only the briefest thought, I moved the line of my blade away from Kwan’s breast and pierced the oni’s eye.
Both Kwan and I flew past the palanquin, landing outside the ring of guards. The oni fell heavily among the guards, who stepped back to plunge their spears into its body.
The last decisive blows fell upon the defeated oni, and silence blanketed the battlefield. Standing with my hand upon the sheathed Shadowless Sword, I felt all eyes turn toward me and Kwan. I looked to him and saw two wounds upon his torso. As I watched, blood streamed down his belly in a growing torrent.
Kwan seemed unaware of the injury. Instead, he stared at me, his eyes widening.
Only then did I feel the eunuch’s darts within my own belly, their razor edges cutting deeper into my intestines with every breath.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The Hell of Dead Heroes
There he is.” Judge Fang pointed his walking twig at a corpse hanging from the great black tree. Its noose had slipped down the branch, letting the body lie upon the trunk. Its flesh and clothing had melted together and tanned like a strip of rawhide. I couldn’t tell the strips of shriveled meat from the scraps of moldering cloth, but I knew somehow that it was much older than it appeared. There should have been nothing left of it but bones.
It was one of many bodies hanging like rotten fruit.
Some had fallen apart, leaving bones and rusted weapons lying on the ground beneath their dangling skeletons. Others had vanished, leaving behind only frayed nooses of braided bark. Only a few still had meat on their bones. Dark fluid seeped out of their wounds and across the bark as the frost thawed.
The smell was too foul even for the carrion birds. The day before we had seen dozens of condors picking over the remains of a village that had been ravaged by an oni war band,
but none dared follow us. Where we were going, Judge Fang said, there were much more dangerous things.
The rocky forest was different from the others we had traveled. It stretched along the base of mountains whose snowy tops had begun to melt. I thought of the cold water we had drunk from the many brooks we had passed. It tasted so sweet and clean.
Smelling the dead bodies made me want to run back and bathe my tongue in the streams, but I hid my fear. Judge Fang often told me I had to look brave to help the others find their courage.
They were all afraid. Even the mighty Four-Waters Turtle lowed like a nervous bull, even though alone he had nearly killed all the rest of us.
The Turtle had been reluctant to join our quest. After a long search in which Judge Fang read many maps to lead us across the land, we found a hilly island in a steaming lake. When the Hopper turned his all-revealing eye upon the island, we saw that what we had mistaken for a hill was really an enormous turtle shell atop a mound of coins.
Even though it had been springtime for weeks, it took hours to wake the gigantic creature from his hibernation. The grumpy Turtle told us to go away until summer, but I told him we needed to reach Iron Mountain in time for the Dragon Ceremony.
Judge Fang asked me to step aside as he filled his tiny lungs and began his recitation. His speech on the virtues of national service put the Turtle back to sleep. I shouted until he woke again, and we took turns persuading him to help us.
The Phantom Virgin played songs on her flute while the Hopper and Courtesans danced to amuse him. Still the Turtle would not stir from his hoard.
The Goblin spat and scooped handfuls of treasure into his pants. At the sound of jingling coins, the Turtle awoke in a fury. We had to fight back.
Gust made a typhoon in his cave, and the Phoenix boiled the underground lake. The Four-Waters Turtle slurped up the wind and the fire and spat it back as steam.
The Whispering Spider tried catching the Turtle in a web, but she could not spin fast enough to cover his cottage-sized shell.