Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  Lu Bei stuffed himself into Turesobei’s satchel and transformed. Kahenan knelt within a protective circle. He placed his legendary white-steel longsword, Yomifano, in front of him, still in its bamboo scabbard decorated with Zhura-ink runes. Only white-steel, made from ore fallen from the bright moon Avida, could truly harm demons and spirit creatures. Normal weapons might temporarily disrupt or injure them, but they couldn’t cause permanent injury.

  White-steel was so rare that the Chonda Clan had only four swords composed of the metal, three more than most clans: one each for King Ugara, Prince Chien, High Wizard Kahenan, and Turesobei. But Yomifano was the finest, the most pure, because the High Wizard had the greatest need for cutting through spirits. All the white-steel swords were centuries old, brought over from Tengba Ren. The art of successfully blending white ore into steel was lost.

  Turesobei knelt within the protective circle closest to the summoning pentagram and placed Sumada, the white-steel short sword he had inherited from his father, in front of him. He chanted the ritual of summoning entities. An hour later, after completing the first phase, he was able to take a short break. His throat was parched. As he sipped watered wine he mentally reviewed his work so far, wincing at all the mistakes he’d made already. Each one would have to be patched with his own energy. Worried that the ritual would take more than he could afford to give, he glanced at his grandfather. Kahenan winked, obviously pleased.

  Confidence restored, Turesobei started the next phase. This part was unique to the entity sought, in this case a mulkiki. It had taken him three days to memorize the obscure summoning. Two more hours of chanting passed before anything happened. A gust of wind flickered the torches. A faint howling echoed in Turesobei’s ears. His gut wrenched. What had once been a trickle of energy to power the spell became a torrent rushing out of him. There was enough. Even without drawing on the storm energies, there was enough. He was relieved.

  A tear in the world opened within the summoning pentagram, as if a wound had been cut into reality, revealing the Shadowland. Sulfur and mist swirled out. And in the midst of that, a demon roared into life. Orange-scaled, it had a fat body with stubby legs, absurdly long arms and giant hands. A bulbous head topped a skinny neck. Its eyes shone solid blue.

  The mulkiki glanced around and angrily hissed a green vapor. Turesobei gripped the hilt of Sumada.

  “What do you want from me, wizard pup?”

  “To fight in battle against our enemies.”

  The demon coughed a laugh. “I can do this. Easily.”

  “I’m sure you can.” Turesobei picked up an iron bracelet etched with binding runes. The bracelet had taken him days to prepare. “But only when we wish it.”

  The mulkiki screeched. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Turesobei chanted the ritual of greater binding, a binding powerful enough to last for two months. This was the hardest part. It would drain him to exhaustion, and would only work if he could win a battle of will with the demon. Even the best wizards failed more often than they succeeded when trying to bind demons.

  “I know about your secret, boy.”

  Turesobei ignored the demon.

  “I know about your girlfriend, too.”

  He couldn’t pay the mulkiki any attention. It was trying to distract him.

  “So close to death. They stalk her. They are relentless.”

  Turesobei lost his focus, and the spell weakened.

  Grinning malevolently, the demon said, “They will find her and she will die. Poor little k’chasan girl.”

  “What danger?”

  The demon wagged its finger.

  “Let me go and I will tell you. My word.”

  Turesobei dropped the binding attempt and quick-casted the spell of compelling obedience, tapping all his reserves to do so. He stood and drew Sumada.

  “I demand you tell me.”

  “You can’t compel me to speak of them.”

  Turesobei decided to open the channel to the storm sigil, but the demon roared and erupted in green flame, breaking free of the summoning, though not the pentagram. The mulkiki disappeared back into the nether reaches of the Shadowland from which it had come.

  Turesobei collapsed. Tears welled in his eyes. He was physically exhausted, especially after the quick-cast compel. But that didn’t bother him.

  “Iniru,” he whispered.

  Grandfather Kahenan approached, shaking his head.

  “You know what you did wrong.”

  “Iniru. She’s in danger.”

  “Why would that be surprising? She is a qengai. She is going to be in danger all the time, don’t you think? The demon probes your mind, finds the name, figures out what she is, then tells you something to distract you so it can break free.”

  “How did it probe my mind? And how could it resist my compel?”

  “A greater mulkiki is much too strong for you to compel. He was playing mind games with you.”

  “That was a greater mulkiki? The ritual was labeled for a normal mulkiki.”

  “That’s not right.” Kahenan frowned in confusion. “Why would you use a normal ritual to summon a greater entity?”

  “You gave me the instructions.”

  “Did I? Forgive me, Turesobei, that could have been very dangerous. I must have picked up the wrong page when I was copying the ritual for you.”

  “I summoned a greater mulkiki with a ritual of summoning entities? It should have required a ritual of summoning greater entities.”

  “Very impressive, but it was doomed to failure. A powerful demon summoned with an inadequate ritual and managed with a lesser binding. My fault. Get some rest and we’ll do it again day after tomorrow. With the right version.”

  Turesobei sighed as the weight of his grandfather’s mistake sank in. He was too tired to pile another worry on his shoulders. “What does the prince want with such a demon anyway? We’re not at war yet.”

  “Top secret scouting mission. If there’s trouble, he will release the demon.”

  “He would only be able to control it for a minute at best.”

  “Desperate times, desperate measures. I never helped you on that one, by the way. Good work.”

  Turesobei nodded, accepting his grandfather’s praise without thinking. He didn’t care about the effort or the failure.

  Iniru was in danger.

  Chapter Five

  A fire blazed in the hearth. Sitting lotus, Turesobei held his kavaru up and turned it to catch the firelight. The semi-translucent amber stone was oval-shaped and the length of his thumb. He never took the kavaru off. He couldn’t. Every time he tried, he failed. How, he wasn’t certain. Other wizards could remove their kavaru. But if he even thought about it long enough, he got terrible headaches.

  The firelight flickering through the amber mirrored his turbulent emotions. “She’s in serious danger.”

  Lu Bei groaned. “So you’ve said. A dozen times. I was there. I heard the demon. I’ve heard a lot of demons. Know what they all have in common?”

  “They’re evil?”

  “What? No. That’s nonsense.”

  Turesobei snapped his head around. “You don’t think they’re evil?”

  “Evil’s a choice. Demons are simply a whole lot of bad by nature. Like hurricanes or disease.”

  “So what do they all have in common?”

  “They lie. With passion. Especially when they spot a wizard with a weak spot who wants to bind them. And you’ve got a big old weak spot for Iniru.”

  “What of it?”

  “I agree with Lord Kahenan. Even if the mulkiki told you the truth, Iniru’s always going to be in danger. Get used to it. Accept it.”

  “I — I’m okay with the danger,” he lied. “I have accepted it. But there was something about what the demon said. I believe him. She’s in extra bad trouble.”

  “The word demon might as well mean to lie. Come to think of it, I don’t know what demon really means …”

  “I should have tried harde
r to convince her to stay here.” He knew that was a load of denekon crap.

  Lu Bei yawned. “You’re hopeless. I’m going to sleep now.”

  “Whatever.”

  Lu Bei halfheartedly stuck out his tongue, curled up against Turesobei’s leg like a cat, and fell asleep. One snore, two snores, three snores … a book again. Clockwork.

  Enashoma’s latest paper crane tapped at the window. He brought the letter in and opened it. Sighing, he sank to the floor.

  Have you changed your mind yet?

  He clutched the page against his forehead. Iniru was so far away. But they could chat. They could be friends, if never anything more. He missed her. At least he’d know she was okay.

  He scrawled his reply.

  Yes. Come to the tower first thing in the morning.

  * * *

  Birds chirping. Turesobei rolled over on his sleeping mat. The sky was brightening but the sun wasn’t over the horizon yet. A little more sleep. He drifted off.

  Bang! The sliding panel thumped back. Enashoma hurried into the room. Turesobei shot up from his sleeping mat and groped for his sword.

  “Relax. It’s me.”

  Turesobei rubbed his swollen eyes. “Do you know how early it is?”

  “Aren’t you ready to get started? Aren’t you excited? I am!”

  Lu Bei popped out and hugged Enashoma.

  “You said to come over first thing.” She looked to Lu Bei. “He did.”

  “I know, Lady Shoma, I know. Master should mind what he says. But Master’s hopeless.”

  “Big talk,” said Turesobei, “but who went to sleep first last night? I did all the research on my own. You didn’t even come out when I called.”

  “I thought you just wanted to mope, master.”

  “You did not. You didn’t want to help me write Iniru.”

  Lu Bei shrugged.

  “Did you figure it out?” Enashoma bounced on her heels. “Can you boost a creature enough to reach her?”

  “With my storm energies, I think so. But I can’t guarantee it. I haven’t really tapped into the storm sigil. I don’t like to mess with it.”

  Nothing good would come from the power. It was a curse he had to live with.

  “What made you change your mind?” Shoma asked.

  “I miss her and … I’m worried about her.”

  “Why?”

  “Because … it’s just a feeling she’s in big trouble.”

  “She’s going to be in danger all the time.”

  “That’s what Grandfather said. But it’s more than that. There was this demon that—”

  “Lied to him,” said Lu Bei. “And master bought it. Like a hungry fetch in a fruit stall.”

  Enashoma poked him in the belly. “You don’t eat!”

  “I could.”

  “No you can’t,” Enashoma said.

  “Well, I would like to. How about if I said a tea shop?”

  “You make your own tea mixtures.”

  “I could buy tea in a shop,” said Lu Bei. “I most certainly could.”

  Turesobei got up and dressed.

  “The thing is … the demon … oh, let’s not go there. I’m super worried. I’ll leave it at that.”

  “I understand, but Sobei, weren’t you already worried about her? I was.”

  “I’ve been busy. I could avoid it. I could pretend.”

  “Got your note composed?”

  Turesobei pulled out a nice sheet of ivory paper. On the back side, it held spell inscriptions of preservation, protection from the elements, speed, and strength. Most importantly, the paper held inscriptions of the spell of enhancing artistry and the spell of heaven’s breath, which was a powerful wind spell.

  On the front side the parchment read, in tiny, precise characters:

  I was thinking of you. I wish I could see you. I’m doing well. I hope you’re safe and happy.

  Enashoma read the letter and frowned. “It’s weak.”

  Turesobei sighed. “I spent two hours on it.”

  “Boys. If it’s the best you can do, it’s the best you can do. She knows you’re lame. She’ll understand.”

  “Hey! That’s not—” No, that was exactly what Iniru would think. Oh well, she’d know it was really him. “You going to add something?”

  “Not this time. She’ll know I helped. That’s enough.”

  Enashoma took the paper and sat at Turesobei’s desk. She wrote Iniru’s name and drew the special sigils with the magic brush, taking longer than normal since she had to find space amongst the spell inscriptions. She also had to leave Iniru room to write her reply.

  Lu Bei surged forward. “Wait!” He dipped his paw in ink and stamped a corner of the page. He nodded proudly. “There.”

  Turesobei clenched his eyes shut and shook his head. “Was that necessary?”

  “Yes, master. I wanted to say hi, too.”

  “You only want to taunt her.”

  Lu Bei grinned. “So? What’s wrong with that?”

  Enashoma folded the paper into an exquisite falcon. It took her nearly an hour. Finally she handed the creature to Turesobei.

  “I hope this works.”

  He cupped the falcon in his hands and uttered the activation commands for the spells he’d placed on it. He nodded to Shoma.

  “Fly, little one. Fly swiftly.”

  If the falcon could travel far enough, it would find her. The origami creatures somehow always located their recipient. The brush was amazingly powerful, if limited.

  Lu Bei opened the window. The paper falcon flapped its wings twice, then zipped out of Turesobei’s hands and zoomed out into the sky.

  Chapter Six

  For three days, Turesobei lived in a haze of nerve-shredding worry and constant distraction. He shoved food around his plate but hardly ate. Sleep was plagued by nightmares, his imagination inventing horrible fates for Iniru. But staying awake was nearly worse. Turesobei tried losing himself in studies and spell casting, but even that failed him. Careless errors he would never normally make botched everything but the simplest of spells. Kahenan scolded him and delayed the big summoning ritual. In his current state, Turesobei was likely to get them both killed. Weapons practice only resulted in more bruises than he had gotten since before his adventures, and Arms Master Kilono yelled at him until he lost his voice.

  On the fourth day after sending the note, he awoke to find Lu Bei crouched down in front of his face.

  Lu Bei slapped him.

  Turesobei lurched backward. “Ow! Watch it!”

  The fetch surged forward, slapped him again, and fired a spark into his face.

  Turesobei shoved him. “What in Torment’s wrong with you?!” He grabbed his singed nose. “That hurt!”

  “Could’ve been worse, master. Have I got your attention?”

  “If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask.”

  “Could’ve fooled me, master. You haven’t been listening to anyone the last three days. You haven’t acted like this since Zinzei left you.”

  “Who?” Probably someone Chonda Lu knew. “Never mind. Go back to being a book.”

  Lu Bei crossed his arms stubbornly.

  “Transform. That’s an order. Stay that way until I call you out.”

  The fetch stuck out his forked tongue and swirled into a small cloud of energy and condensed down into a book.

  Turesobei went to the dining room downstairs. A servant brought him a bowl of rice and a fillet of smoked trout. He picked at it for an hour before giving up. He returned to his room to prepare a spell, but he kept screwing up the runes. Finally, he couldn’t take the tension anymore, so he summoned Lu Bei.

  “Well, what is it?”

  “I don’t understand you, master. You want to be a great wizard? You want to save your clan? To live up to everyone’s expectations? To be worthy of Iniru?”

  “Of course I do!”

  “Then get back to work.”

  “But I—”

  Lu Bei in
terrupted him. “What would Iniru think about all this pointless worrying?”

  Turesobei sighed. “She’d tell me I was being an idiot.”

  “Right. The best thing you can do for her is to be the best wizard you can be.” Lu Bei crossed his legs and hovered, his wings beating rhythmically. “Look, master, the demon scared you bad, and you miss Iniru. You want her to be safe. I get that. But the Turesobei I know … and love … would have responded by throwing himself back into his studies. Because that’s who he is. But you’re exhausted. You haven’t let yourself rest in months. You pushed and pushed until you had nothing left to give. There’s a line between working extremely hard and working yourself to death. You crossed the line.”

  “It’s not just the expectations that wore me down.”

  “The nightmares?”

  “You know about those?”

  “Sometimes I like to sit in the window and watch the stars. And you are kind to let me come out whenever I want, master. I see you tossing in your sleep. Muttering, sweating, shaking.”

  “I have these nightmares where I become the Storm Dragon. Not Naruwakiru, but … something like her.”

  “So you’re afraid of the Storm Dragon energies?”

  “That’s why I won’t use them. That’s why I won’t use any of the lightning spells Grandfather keeps wanting me to try. I’m not even practicing spells that would normally call on storm kenja. The energy I invested in the paper falcon was the first storm kenja I’ve used, and I called on as little as I could. I’m afraid if I open the channel, I won’t be able to contain it. That the Storm Dragon energy will overtake me.”

  “Maybe it’s better not to hold back. It’s part of who we are now. You must be yourself, whatever your self is at the moment. You can be no more. You should be no less.”

  “But the nightmares … it’s like when I was injured and recovering. I dreamed I was a dragon flying amongst the clouds. And maybe I was. I don’t know. But I barely made it back to my body.”

  “You’ve got to face it, master. You can’t let fear beat you. The storm energies are a blessing. You are approaching the sort of powers you used to have — I mean, that Chonda Lu had. At least with anything storm related. In fact, you’ll probably exceed him in those areas.”