“Yes, Grandfather.”
“Hmph. Not well enough it seems.”
Grandfather Kahenan cast a spell and all the lanterns within the library blazed to life. He held his hand up to the light and frowned. The bleeding had stopped, though the punctures looked deep.
“How did you know I would be here?”
“I am not a fool, Turesobei. Why would you request that I open the library tonight, tired as you were, if you were not up to something? Besides, you were asking some rather strange questions.”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“I am old, but not crippled, and you took forever with that leaping spell.”
“You were watching?!”
Grandfather Kahenan ignored him and circled Lu Bei, examining him carefully. Kahenan’s eyes were glowing white, which meant he was using his kenja sight to examine the energy that Lu Bei was made of. The technique would also show any spells that were active in the area.
After a few minutes, Kahenan’s eyes returned to normal.
“Lu Bei, you will now answer the questions I ask of you.”
“I obey only my master,” Lu Bei snarled.
“Sobei?”
“Please, do as my grandfather requests, Lu Bei.”
“I don’t know….”
“That’s an order,” said Turesobei.
“Yes, but is it in your best interests?”
“Yes.”
Kahenan fingered his white-steel sword, Yomifano. Lu Bei’s eyes darted down to it. A white-steel sword could cut through and destroy a kenja being such as Lu Bei.
“It is in your best interests, that much is certain.”
“Aha! Well then. Um…what would you like to know?”
“Everything. Starting with your bite. Is it poisonous?”
“No.”
“Who fashioned you?”
“Chonda Lu. The next answer is two thousand, four hundred thirty-eight years ago.”
“How did you come here?”
“Well, I have always been here, in a pocket of the Shadowland that follows….”
The room went silent. Yet Lu Bei’s lips were still moving. And Grandfather Kahenan was nodding in response to something Lu Bei had said.
Before he could mention the problem, Turesobei could suddenly hear again.
“Yes, he made me before he came here to Okoro,” Lu Bei said. “I was to help him record everything he experienced. Obviously, it’s easier if your diary can see and hear everything around you. Beyond that, he’d only need to tell me his thoughts and I could record them.”
Turesobei knew what they were discussing. Chonda Lu, his long-lived Kaiaru ancestor, had been the first baojendari from the Eastern Continent to sail to Okoro. His arrival had unintentionally set the course that would lead the baojendari to invade and colonize Okoro.
Grandfather Kahenan’s eyes were wide, his mouth was open. He stammered, “That…that is amazingly clever. Do you still retain all this information?”
“Oh, yes, yes, of course. I remember everything master ever told me and everything I’ve ever seen or heard. That’s my purpose. I am my master’s second memory.”
Grandfather Kahenan’s smile creased his whole face. “The knowledge you must possess! We have only a simple account of that voyage.”
“About forty-seven pages long, would you say?”
“Exactly. In terrible penmanship, I might add.”
“Sorry, I wrote those for master. He was terribly busy and couldn’t do it himself. I wrote a longer one, too. You must have lost it.”
Kahenan shook his head as if he still couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing or hearing. “It must have taken years for him to create you.”
“One hundred and eighty-seven,” Lu Bei said proudly. “Two hours each day.” Even for a potentially eternal Kaiaru that was a long time.
“Astounding! The spells that must have gone into it, all that work and dedication….” Kahenan’s eyes narrowed. “Why would he do this? No offense, but surely you must have served some additional purpose.”
“Master enjoyed the effort in making a spirit construct, his own fetch. Not summoned, created. Then imbued with a personality he chose carefully. But you’d need master to explain the process to you. My memories begin when he first woke me, at the completion of all his long rituals.”
Lu Bei looked at Turesobei who simply shrugged his shoulders.
“Will you tell me why else he made you? Why he needed everything to be recorded perfectly?”
“Oh yes, you see—”
Silence again. They were both still talking but Turesobei could hear none of it.
Turesobei interrupted them. “Grandfather, are you trying to keep me from hearing? Would you like for me to leave? It would make it easier.”
Grandfather Kahenan turned to him. “You cannot hear what we have just said?”
“Not at all. I’ve been missing large parts of your conversation.”
“Interesting. That explains why you did not react as I thought you might. But this is not surprising given—”
Silence again.
“You did not hear that, did you, Sobei?”
“No!” Turesobei said with exasperation.
“Alas,” said Lu Bei. “It is not the time. I am early.”
“Early?” Kahenan asked.
“Yes, when Chonda Lu decided to—”
Silence yet again for several minutes.
“Sorry, Sobei. I know you are frustrated but this is simply not something you are intended to hear at this time.”
“Yeah, well this is worse than the ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older’ bit adults usually say.”
“I am sorry. Oh, and Lu Bei, how careless of me.” Grandfather Kahenan swiped his hand and the bindings around Lu Bei disappeared. The fetch fluttered down to the table.
“Truly amazing. No one could equal Chonda Lu. I wish I could cast a silence spell as effective as that.”
Lu Bei began to talk but soon there was silence again. Turesobei ignored them because he had just noticed that there was light flickering within his kavaru.
He hadn’t thought of that. The silencing spell had to originate from somewhere. He’d just assumed that it had to do with Lu Bei directly. But Lu Bei might not be able to cast spells, and his grandfather’s sapphire stone was dark and cold.
Turesobei concentrated a moment and activated his kenja sight. He scanned the surrounding area, looking for a strong flow of energy. Lu Bei, being magical, obviously glowed. But none of his energy flowed toward Turesobei. The only other magic was the energy flowing from Turesobei’s stone and enveloping him.
His own kavaru was creating the silence effect, and without his command or knowledge of it!
Turesobei tried to take the kavaru off, which he almost never did. He slept with it on, ate with it on, fought with it on. After all, a wizard would be nearly useless without it. He couldn’t even remember the last time he hadn’t worn it.
Turesobei grasped the chain and tugged. Or he intended to tug, but his hands wouldn’t move the chain.
Clutching the kavaru, he grunted and strained, but he couldn’t take it off. No matter how he tried, no matter how strongly he exerted his willpower, he could not bring himself to remove the stone.
He noticed then that Lu Bei and his grandfather were looking at him. Each said something to the other, but Turesobei couldn’t hear them.
A thought occurred to him then. A ridiculous thought. Because it just could not be. There were no others in all Okoro. And yet…little bits said over the years…things only he could do, things maybe even his grandfather couldn’t do….
“Lu Bei,” Turesobei said. “Grandfather. Am I a…” Turesobei chuckled nervously. “This may sound silly, but I have to make sure. Am I a kai—”
The world darkened and bright specks floated in Turesobei’s field of vision. “Am I….” Weak and nauseous, he slumped toward the floor. “Must know if—”
* * *
L
u Bei was fluttering over him, tugging at his collar. “Master, master are you okay?”
Turesobei awoke; his head was fuzzy, ringing. “What happened?”
“You fainted,” Grandfather Kahenan replied. “Likely from fatigue.”
Turesobei sat up. “I was about to say something…only now I can’t remember what it was.”
Kahenan chuckled. “You will find that a common occurrence when you are my age.”
“It wasn’t important, master.”
Grandfather Kahenan reached a hand down and helped him up. “I will help you get home, Sobei.”
“Lu Bei,” Turesobei said. “Probably best if you turned back into a book now.”
“Yes, master.”
Moments later, the fetch was a diary again. The change made Kahenan’s eyes dance. They left the library, and slowly Turesobei’s strength returned, though he was more tired now than before.
“Keep Lu Bei out of sight,” Grandfather Kahenan said as they neared Turesobei’s house. “Especially do not let your mother see him in the house. Do not overuse him for now. He must take energy from you, or some other source you provide.”
“How did he remain a fetch while I was passed out? He said I had to focus on the book to summon him and that he couldn’t stay unless I was aware of him nearby.”
“He will not fade instantly, and I doubt he had many minutes left before you woke up.”
They reached the steps and Kahenan paused. “Tell your mother it is my fault you are late. And get some extra rest tonight. Show up an hour later than you normally would.”
“I don’t have to do the extra work tomorrow?” Turesobei said, with as much excitement as he could still manage.
Grandfather Kahenan laughed. “No, Sobei. You must still learn your lesson about being disrespectful. Just be thankful for the extra rest first. You will be up late again tomorrow, I fear.”
Turesobei entered the house quietly, but before he could make it to his bedroom, his mother intercepted him.
“You’re three hours late,” she said with a slur. Her breath smelled faintly of wine and her hair was disheveled. “And I don’t care if it’s your fault or your grandfather’s.”
Turesobei groaned. She was going to use up his extra hour.
Chapter Seven
A hand gently shook Turesobei awake. He shoved it away and drifted off again, but the hand returned with a little more force. Turesobei opened an eye halfway and peered at his grandfather.
“What is it?” he grumbled.
“It is time for you to wake,” Grandfather Kahenan said with a cheerful gleam.
Turesobei sat up and rubbed his eyes. As promised, his grandfather had worked him hard. He had inscribed practice spells until his hand cramped so badly that he couldn’t flex his fingers anymore. Then, with drooping eyelids, he curled up beside the writing table and went to sleep. He had thought Kahenan would be angry about it.
A light wind blew in through the windows. Rain pattered outside, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Turesobei stretched his arms. “What time is it, Grandfather?”
“One hour until midnight. Your father has arrived.”
“Where? When? Why didn't you wake me sooner?”
“Now is soon enough.”
At that moment, the giant oak door at the bottom level of the tower creaked open, then slammed shut. The sound echoed up the staircase and into the workroom.
Turesobei paced, smoothed down his hair where it was slipping loose from its queue, and straightened his robes. Finally, he stood erect and tried for a proper, serious demeanor. He had not seen his father in nine months. He wanted to appear strong and mature to impress him.
Noboro's heavy footfalls reverberated with increasing intensity. He was a large man. Turesobei had inherited his height, though not his bulk. Instead, he was willowy like his mother, though he hoped that might change in time.
“He had best hurry up,” Kahenan mumbled. “I have a ritual to finish.” Though Noboro wandered all Okoro, he rarely moved in a hurry. Or perhaps because he was always moving at a steady pace, he never saw a need to rush.
“You're not scripting the howler summoning tonight are you?” Turesobei asked.
“Someone has need of it sooner than I had thought,” Grandfather Kahenan said in his careful manner that always meant he was keeping a secret. “Besides, I had nothing else to do with you asleep and Noboro arriving late.”
“I didn't mean to fall asleep.”
“I know. You were exhausted. I hope you learned your lesson.”
Turesobei was about to insist that he had when the door slid back and his father entered. Rain dripped from Noboro's battered cloak. His clothes, green cotton pants and a brown shirt, bore the stains and scars of long travel. He had removed his shoes at the main door. Weapon strikes had left deep scratches on his leather breastplate and forearm guards. A broadsword hung on his back. The giant curved blade rested in a battered leather sheath that seemed older than Noboro himself. A thin saber in a scabbard hung from his belt. This much smaller sword, named Sumada, was forged of precious white-steel.
Turesobei and Kahenan bowed, and with a sly grin Noboro returned the greeting.
“Father,” Noboro said formally. “Turesobei. It warms my heart to see you both well.” He scanned Turesobei. “You've grown. You'll be as tall as me soon.” Noboro narrowed his eyes. “You are eating enough aren't you?”
“Oh, he does plenty of that,” Grandfather Kahenan said. “He just takes after his mother a bit too much.”
“Well, he does look more like her than me. And that, I think, is a good thing.”
Turesobei was becoming embarrassed. “How was your expedition, Father?”
“Good, Sobei. Very good. I found an artifact that I have sought for a long time now. It was very difficult to track down and even worse to recover.”
“What was it?”
Noboro scratched his cheek through his bushy, barely-kept beard. His father looked like a savage compared to all the refined clan nobles. “I think that I will have to tell you later.”
“Please, Father. At least tell me how you came about finding it.”
“Not tonight. I need to speak with your grandfather about some rather important matters. I'm not going to be here long, I'm afraid.”
His voice cracking, Turesobei said, “You're staying through the festival though aren't you?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, Sobei.”
“But you have to!”
“I would love to, but I truly can't stay, son. I need provisions and a few guards and then I'm off. I raced to get back here as soon as possible, and I must race back out again.”
Turesobei’s eyes filled with tears and he sighed. He didn't know why he had gotten his hopes up. It was always like this with his father. Something else was always more important than his family.
“Noboro,” Grandfather Kahenan said, “I have a ritual sequence that I must finish now. It will take me about an hour.”
“That's just as well. I need to take care of several matters and store….” He glanced suspiciously at Turesobei. “Something in the vault.”
“Of course. Wait for me in the Dairen Pavilion.”
“Why not in the tower? I should think it much more secure.”
“After I finish this ritual, here will not be a good place. Your presence may disrupt the carefully balanced energies within the tower. Besides, I have demons here. Should any of them break loose, they would immediately rush to tell your enemies all the secrets they might have heard.”
“Those aren’t the real reasons, are they?” Noboro asked.
As Kahenan went back to his worktable he replied, “They could be.”
Turesobei walked downstairs with his father.
“Are you coming home?” Turesobei asked, seemingly without interest.
Noboro slumped his broad shoulders. “I suppose I must, but not until morning. If your mother is up, tell her not to wait for me.”
“Yes, father.”
/>
“It's good to see you, son.”
Turesobei smiled meekly. “It's good to see you, too.”
Turesobei trudged home and found that his mother, Wenari, had gone to sleep hours ago. He wasn't surprised. His parents' arranged marriage lacked anything resembling love or friendship. They had never grown close. Partly because Noboro traveled all the time. But Turesobei also suspected that Wenari didn't really like her rebellious husband and had expected greater things of him.
Turesobei often worried the same would happen to him. He tried to meet Awasa's expectations, but she refused to even think of him as a friend. She was only fourteen, of course, and she might change her mind yet. Turesobei certainly hoped so.
After rolling out his sleeping mat, Turesobei removed the new satchel from his back. The satchel was just big enough to carry a single large book and a set of basic writing implements. Kahenan had given it to him for carrying around Chonda Lu’s diary. Kahenan thought it best that Lu Bei stay with Turesobei at all times.
Turesobei couldn’t bring himself to go to bed. He was disappointed and restless. His father’s return had been nothing like he had hoped. Noboro wasn’t going to stay long, and he wasn’t going to do anything special with either of his children. Turesobei had hoped his dad would teach him something about…anything, really, and regale him with tales of his travels. Maybe Turesobei could even tell him what he had been learning, what he had accomplished in the last several months.
Turesobei pulled the book from the satchel and ran his hands along the cover. The runes shimmered but Lu Bei didn’t appear. Turesobei had asked the fetch not to appear unless called for.
“Lu Bei,” Turesobei whispered.
In a moment, the book transformed and Lu Bei wheeled around the room before landing on the sleeping mat.
“Did you need me, master?”
“I was just lonely. Wanted someone to talk to.”
“Not a good night, then?”
“I’ve had better.”
Lu Bei patted Turesobei on the hand. “I’m sorry, master.”
In response, Turesobei tried to smile. “Can you hear what happens around you when you’re a book?”
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 5