Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  “That’s the one. We fought him hard. I have the scars to prove my part of the tale. Anyway, the kagi are awakening again.”

  It was like an icy hand had gripped Turesobei’s heart. “Do — do you think it’s Nazyraga coming back?”

  In all of Okoro, two beings were feared above all others: Makazi Keshuno, the Shadow Dragon who ruled a fierce, zaboko-only nation in the South; and Nazyraga, wayward sibling of the other Shogakami, who had tried to kill all the baojendari and conquer Okoro.

  Lu Bei shook his head. “No way, master. He cannot return.”

  “What about you and me, book? We’re back. Anything is possible.” Aikonshi turned to Turesobei. “So I guess you’ve never heard of me?”

  “I have, actually. But I didn’t realize it.”

  Lu Bei spun. “What?! How? When?”

  “I have my sources.”

  “How much do you know?” she said.

  “Not much. Just a reference that I didn’t understand until now.”

  Lu Bei nodded in understanding. Turesobei knew who and what she was because of Chonda Lu’s grimoire. Chonda Lu had made her. The ritual was recorded in the grimoire, though it was coded and ridiculously complicated. Why Chonda Lu had made her, he had no idea.

  “Do you find me beautiful, Turesobei?” Aikonshi asked.

  “I suppose so. But honestly, I’m not really into fangs and red skin.”

  Aikonshi reached out and touched his kavaru, normally an insult. Her caressing it made him uncomfortable, but he understood. The magic from this stone had made her what she was.

  “Sorry, but I haven’t seen the kavaru in so long. So you know that Lu Bei and I are siblings …”

  “Hardly,” Lu Bei proclaimed. He puffed out his chest and turned his chin up into the air. “Cousins at best.”

  “Did you know Chonda Lu and I were … together … for a while?”

  “Don’t listen to her. She was a mistake. Master, you should not have trusted her as you did. She was too unstable.”

  “Those days are gone, Lu Bei, long gone. Can we not let the old arguments go?”

  Lu Bei grunted dismissively and folded his arms.

  “Life is good for me now. Hakamoro and I are a perfect match. And I’m hunting again. I have purpose. Now, if none of you mind, I’m going to nap.”

  She curled up against the bluff and began snoring instantly.

  “Is she okay?” Enashoma asked.

  “She fought a battle and ate an enormous meal,” Hakamoro said. “Wouldn’t you be sleepy? I’m going to go get our mounts and yours. We might as well make camp here, I think.”

  “I’ll go with you!” Zaiporo said.

  Turesobei poked Lu Bei in the chest. “We need to talk later.”

  “Of course, master.”

  They rested until Hakamoro and Zaiporo returned. Then they made camp and got a fire going. Awasa silently stared into the fire. Her tears dried. Maybe he’d been too harsh. She had no experience doing anything more than making clothing and jewelry, enjoying tea and small talk. But Turesobei couldn’t bring himself to apologize.

  He bandaged a cut on Enashoma’s head. Judging from the knot he found on her scalp, he figured she had a concussion, but thought she’d be fine. Zaiporo had bruised ribs and scrapes, but nothing worse.

  When they started eating, Aikonshi woke from her nap and sat with them. She kept looking at Turesobei and frowning.

  “So, I don’t think you are heading to Yumisi Shrine,” Hakamoro said. “You don’t have permission to leave your clan, I’d bet. At least not the ladies, that much I’m certain of. So what are you up to?”

  Turesobei chewed on a strip of fish jerky. “We’re heading to the Monolith of Sooku.”

  “It has fallen,” said Aikonshi.

  “We will restore it,” Lu Bei said.

  “What are you seeking?” she asked.

  “I’m going to rescue a …” He glanced at Awasa. She didn’t even look at him. “A close friend. She’s in danger. I can’t locate her. I know only that she’s trapped in the Lair of the Deadly Twelve. But she’s sharp, she’s a k’chasan qengai. She might still be alive.”

  Hakamoro coughed. “You — you’re going to attempt a rescue mission against the Deadly Twelve?!”

  Aikonshi laughed uneasily. “You’re joking, yes?”

  “No.”

  “You’re courting death,” she told him. “You cannot defeat the Twelve Who Are Three and One. You don’t have a chance.”

  “You know who they are?” Turesobei said with hope. Finally, some answers.

  Aikonshi pointed at Lu Bei. “What, he didn’t tell you?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Lu Bei started to flutter away. Turesobei grabbed him by the wrists.

  “Not so fast.” He held him up, face-to-face. “You knew? All this time?”

  “Sobei, don’t hurt him,” Shoma pleaded. “I’m sure he had a good reason.”

  “Of course he knew,” said Aikonshi. “Chonda Lu’s diary would most certainly know all about the most deadly cult of assassins the world has ever known. Assassins the Jade Emperor banished to Tengba Ren.”

  “Master, please forgive me for not saying. But these cannot be the Twelve Who Are Three and One. They can only be the same in name. Somebody is copying the idea.”

  “So you did know?”

  “I told you that you couldn’t trust that filthy little demon,” Awasa mumbled absentmindedly, still staring into the fire.

  “I am sorry for not telling you, master, but these aren’t the original twelve. They simply can’t be.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because you killed them, master. Chonda Lu killed them, I mean.”

  Aikonshi stepped in close. “What? When was this?”

  “Seven months before he died. It was … I don’t like to talk about it. Those were bad times.”

  “Well, now you must,” Turesobei growled. “You have deceived me.”

  Lu Bei wailed. “Master, I can’t. Don’t make me. Please.”

  “Lu Bei. Tell me. Now.”

  Tears spilled from Lu Bei’s eyes. “Master, they — they killed you.”

  “The Deadly Twelve killed Lu?” Aikonshi stalked around, running her hands through her white hair. “That’s can’t be true.”

  “The records say he died fighting against an uridisi-ga the Gawo summoned,” Turesobei said.

  “An uridisi-ga?” said Lu Bei. “Phaw! What a load — as if.”

  “So the record is wrong?” Turesobei asked.

  “You — I mean, Chonda Lu — left the world after beating the uridisi-ga. It was a violent fight yes, but the monster didn’t mortally wound him like he let everyone think. Master was already dying. Seven months of physick and sorcery and he couldn’t counter the special poison the Twelve had struck him with. They must’ve spent years working on it.”

  “What happened?” Aikonshi asked. “Why were the Twelve after him?”

  “She — you know the one I mean — summoned the Twelve and agreed to their price. Master escaped them the first time, but you know the Twelve never stop. So we set a trap for them. All of us, except you.”

  “Why didn’t he call me? I know we weren’t on good terms, but I would’ve wanted in on that.”

  “Master didn’t want you there.”

  Aikonshi cursed. “Arrogant old—”

  Lu Bei broke free from Turesobei and zoomed up to her face. “You will not say anything bad about Master. I don’t like you. I’ve never liked you. But Master loved you. He didn’t want you there because he didn’t think any of us would survive. Including himself. And he didn’t. Whatever that poison was, once it was in Master’s blood, that was it. He couldn’t cure it, not with all the magic and knowledge he possessed. But at least we finished them off. I saw it myself. So I know it cannot be the same ones.”

  “She paid the full price then?”

  “I would assume so.”

  “Well that’s a relief.”

&n
bsp; Turesobei didn’t know what these two were talking about half the time. “Who is she?”

  “You really don’t want to know,” Aikonshi said. “And it’s complicated. Book, what about Isashiara, Tochibi, Hasuferu, the sentinels, and …” She shivered. “Motekeru?”

  “The sentinels were destroyed. All the rest were dying at the end. Badly wounded against the Twelve, but saved by Master. But … he dispersed their energies personally before he died. I was the only one he left behind.”

  Her features fell. She clenched her eyes shut and sighed. “He could’ve let them continue on. He didn’t have to do that.”

  Lu Bei shrugged. “I was the never the same after. Lost most of my powers.” He fired a spark into the night. “That’s all I can do now, other than record things. And only because of this lightning bolt on my chest.” He sighed. “You betrayed him, Shi. You never should have left.”

  “Do we need to have that argument again?” She gazed up at the stars. “I wish he’d told me he was dying. I would have wanted to see him one last time.”

  “He was not himself those last months.”

  “He sent me a letter. He told me he was weary of the world. When I heard about his death … that there would be no rebirth through the kavaru, by his orders … I thought maybe that’s why he had fallen to the uridisi-ga. I know how Kaiaru lose their will. Even in my six hundred years, most of them asleep, I’ve come to know the weariness of existence.”

  Lu Bei settled onto a rock and gazed at his hands. “I wrote the letter, Shi.”

  “You?!”

  “Like I said … Master wasn’t in his right mind. And … I knew … I knew you’d need to know … something … before he left.”

  “It had his signature. I know his signature.”

  “Because I told him to sign it. As the months went on, he became incoherent except in small bursts. Mostly prophecies. Instructions for what I was to do once he was gone. I came back too soon, apparently. Or Master’s prophecies were off.”

  “Maybe they were wrong,” she said.

  “Master was never wrong.”

  “Lu Bei … thanks for sending that—”

  He lifted his hand and shook his head. “I don’t want to hear it. The letter … I didn’t want to do it. It was for Master.”

  Aikonshi nodded and dropped it.

  Turesobei shifted uncomfortably. Maybe it was time to change the subject.

  “So, who were the Twelve originally?”

  “Baojendari sorcerer wraiths,” Aikonshi said. “Some said Kaiaru, but I don’t think they were.”

  “Master said they were like Kaiaru, but different. He never explained any more than that to me.”

  “They appeared only to those who called on them,” Aikonshi continued. “They didn’t take jobs like a common assassin would. If they answered, you named the one you wanted killed, plus eleven other victims. One victim for each of them. They would kill them and bring their heads to you. Then they claimed your life, as well. Only the desperate summoned them. Their need was to feed, like me, but they could feed only off blood spilled in vengeance. Whereas I can feed only on the life force of monsters.”

  She smirked. “Chonda Lu’s generous gift to me when I was a dying sixteen-year-old girl wanting vengeance of my own. But that was as much my fault. I asked for this life. He warned me.”

  “How did someone summon them?” Turesobei asked.

  “There was a ritual,” said Lu Bei. “Most wizards knew or had access to it. Once the Twelve killed, they would sleep for a decade. But they would pursue their targets for many years if necessary. They never failed. Many summoned them, more than you would think, and when they awoke from hibernation, they chose only the hit they deemed most delectable.”

  “If this ritual still existed,” said Enashoma, “couldn’t we try to summon them and deal with them now? If they were the same ones.”

  “When you called them, they merely listened,” said Aikonshi. “They only came to you physically if they accepted your request. I’m sure they had a lair here, but I have no idea where it was.”

  “Master searched for their lair,” said Lu Bei, “but he could never find it. Doesn’t really matter. This is some group of human assassins taking on an old name.”

  “You don’t think they could be back again, just like you and Aikonshi?” Turesobei said. “It’s a rare name. Kahenan had never heard of them, and there wasn’t a single reference in the library. Maybe someone worked some sort of powerful magic to bring them back.”

  “Anything is possible,” said Aikonshi. “If it is the same Twelve, you have no chance of beating them. Think about it. Chonda Lu bested them, the first to ever do so, but he was a Kaiaru. And he died.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  While Lu Bei and Aikonshi kept watch, everyone else slept in the next morning, having agreed not to push on without adequate rest. No matter how much Turesobei worried about Iniru and wanted to get there fast, he knew he’d never make it if he pushed too hard after having his brain messed with and his body crushed under the foot of an earth monster.

  He went to sleep angry at Lu Bei and remained angry when he woke. He didn’t buy Lu Bei’s excuse for not telling him about the Deadly Twelve. Lu Bei had actively tried to hide knowledge from him. And if they hadn’t happened upon Aikonshi, he would never have known. Of course, she presented a cartload of further questions.

  Turesobei stood, stretched, and took a swig from a canteen. Aikonshi was nowhere to be found. Everyone else was still asleep. Lu Bei landed on a rock beside him.

  “Where’s Aikonshi?” Turesobei asked.

  “Off scouting. She barely slept. What she learned upset her. She was once close with Master.”

  “She’s not the only one upset.”

  “I know, master. Do you forgive me?”

  “I don’t know. I guess. Maybe.”

  “You want the truth?”

  “There’s more?”

  Lu Bei nodded. He began to speak. Turesobei woke up moments later.

  “You see? I cannot tell you everything. I’m not always sure what I can say. As for the original Twelve, it’s a painful subject for me, and I truly didn’t think it would help to know about them. Besides, I was afraid knowing about them would deter you from saving Iniru.”

  “Since when have you ever cared about Iniru?”

  “I care because you care, master. Doesn’t matter whether I like her.”

  Lu Bei had sent the letter to Aikonshi on Chonda Lu’s behalf. Lu Bei often cared more than he let on.

  “Well, that was informative.” Arms crossed, Aikonshi leaned against a stubby tree.

  Lu Bei bared his fangs. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

  “I could always sneak up on you, little book. And I knew you’d spill more of it.”

  Lu Bei growled at her.

  “Relax, I figured as much. I would expect nothing less from Chonda Lu. He may have been a fair and forward thinker, but he had his machinations and prejudices like any Kaiaru.”

  She put a hand on Turesobei’s shoulder. “You have my sympathy.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t tell you. But on the bright side, if you’re chasing the Deadly Twelve, even someone pretending to be them, I don’t think you’ll live long enough for it to be a problem.”

  “You were close with Chonda Lu,” he said. “You’re a monster hunter. You’re good in a fight.”

  She laughed. “You want me to come with you?”

  Turesobei nodded at his sleeping companions. “We could use you. We don’t have a lot of —”

  “Help? No, you don’t. These children should be home.”

  “I tried to come alone. I couldn’t ditch them.”

  “You could run away and abandon them.”

  “And leave them to their own devices? Enashoma doesn’t want to go back. Zaiporo can’t, and won’t, go back to his old life. Awasa, she has ruined her reputation. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Zaiporo i
s tough, and your sister looks capable. She will find her way in time. The other one, the hopeless one—”

  “My betrothed.”

  Aikonshi cackled. “Wait. You’re off to save your girlfriend, and your betrothed is along to help? That’s … that’s wrong in so many ways.”

  “Will you help us?”

  “We must go our own way. We have our own quest and monsters to hunt.”

  * * *

  After breakfast, Enashoma cheered up Lu Bei, who then regaled Hakamoro with an old tale about Aikonshi. Turesobei tended to his mount, not paying attention to the story, lost in thought.

  Aikonshi slipped up behind him and reached around his waist. His face flushed, his heart raced. He wasn’t sure if he liked this or was terrified she was about to bite into his neck. She reached into his spell pouch and drew out a strip. He started to say something but she shook her head and put the strip in his hand.

  He cast what she’d chosen, the spell of the wall of silence. How had she drawn the correct one like a wizard could?

  He followed her into a grove of trees. “If you’re trying to hide what we’re saying from Lu Bei, it won’t work.”

  “You forget I know him far better than you do. He was never allowed to hear anything that was said or done between me and Lu. Since you have the stone …”

  “No wonder he doesn’t like you.”

  “That wasn’t the half of it. Look, you do understand what’s going on, at least a little, right?”

  “You mean Chonda Lu and the prophecy? My mind gets fuzzy when I even think about what I might know.”

  “Let’s try this … I have an important question for you. I believe the prophecy ultimately hinges on it. Though you may not be able to see how … what do you think Lu Bei’s purpose is? Yes, he can scout and fetch things. He’s the perfect assistant, and a patient and lively companion for late nights spent working boring rituals. And he does, I admit, make the best cups of tea. But still, why would Chonda Lu need a diary? He had servants. He had others who could keep him company or scout for him.”

  It was a good question. He hated to admit he’d never thought about it. “I guess in case he forgot something.”