Chapter Sixty-Seven
Turesobei’s spirit slammed back into his body. As he stood, a whirlwind kicked up around him. Lightning flashed in the sky. Thunder boomed, loud enough that the mountain shook and rocks tumbled in the distance. A lightning bolt speared down from the heavens and struck him on the sigil. Raw power flowed in without harming him. Another boom followed, loud enough to shake the mountain. A section of the shelf near the cave collapsed and tumbled down the mountainside.
“Yesssss!” Lu Bei shouted. “Let’s go, master. Let’s —”
The storm mark on Lu Bei’s chest, which matched the sigil on Turesobei’s cheek, ignited with electricity. Lu Bei screamed and began to change shape. His face elongated into a snout. His wings spread wider. His body grew longer, as did his claws. He became a miniature storm dragon nearly as long as Turesobei was tall.
The storm energy enveloped Turesobei like before, but this time it expanded much further and took on the shape of the Storm Dragon, six times as long as Turesobei was tall and much, much thicker. Blazing eyes formed over a snout. Antlers of electric fire sprouted from the forehead, and a tail grew to match. Wings of cloud unfurled. Legs with charged claws gripped the rock. The storm energy increased in density, as if an entire storm cloud were compressed into a small area, with lightning threading through like veins of blood flowing through a body. Turesobei floated up into the center of the body, curling up by instinct into a fetal position. He himself became the heart of the great Storm Dragon reborn, as the jade orb he had broken had been the heart held aloft inside Naruwakiru.
Turesobei’s senses shut down and became those of the Storm Dragon. He saw not out of his own eyes, but out of the eyes of the dragon. He flexed his wings and claws, clapped his tail against the mountainside, and roared into the sky.
Seeing this, the yomon, the Warlock, and the Spider stopped fighting — for the moment, they were amazed. The Wolf was dying, first cut by a yomon’s sword, and now with Motekeru’s hands locked around his throat. The Poisoner’s head was stuck on the end of a yomon’s spear. All the clones were gone. Turesobei’s companions had all backed away, except for Aikonshi. She stood over Hakamoro who was wounded. With Zaiporo’s help, she moved Hakamoro back toward the still-blocked tunnel. So far, the yomon had mostly focused on the Deadly Twelve. That would not last for much longer.
Awasa was kneeling, exhausted. She climbed to her feet, stabbed the white-steel sword through the chest of the nearest yomon, and fell back down. The yomon screamed and disappeared.
Turesobei focused his intent. It wasn’t easy. He wanted to fly away. He wanted to say this battle was no concern of his and leave to soar through the sky in his element. But he stayed. His friends were here. More importantly, his enemies were here. He had the power to defeat them now. Anger filled his mind; rage took over.
His dragon eyes locked onto the Warlock, who still fought against the yomon-ga. Turesobei puffed electric fire from his nostrils. The Warlock glanced over and spotted Turesobei in dragon form. His eyes flared wide, and he started to run. He wasn’t nearly fast enough. Turesobei shot a lightning blast from his dragon mouth that incinerated Barakaros the Warlock and knocked the yomon-ga flat.
The Spider ran toward the gate, trying to escape into the Ancient Cold and Deep. Storm Dragon Lu Bei dove onto her and ripped her with his claws. A yomon swiped at him, and he slipped away. Turesobei pounced on the Spider as she tried to stand. He bit her head off, and then breathed lightning onto the nearest yomon, frying him into a charred husk.
Nearly a third of the One Hundred and the Eight had made it through the gate, but now most of them fled: some toward the edges of the deep shelf, trying to find some way to climb down. Others headed toward the tunnel entrance, hoping to tear through the webs. A few even tried to retreat into the Winter Realm, but they ran into their brethren who were still trying to leave.
Turesobei would not let any of these devils escape into the world. He would send them back into Winter and destroy them there. He opened his jaws wide and breathed a tremendous blast of lightning into the portal, incinerating several yomon and knocking others back from the portal.
“You will stop now!” bellowed the yomon-ga.
Understanding their speech now, Storm Dragon Turesobei whipped around. The devil had barreled into his companions, scattering them, except for two. He held Iniru up by the neck in one hand and the Winter Child in the other.
“Stop or I will snap their necks.”
“You will not stop me!” Turesobei bellowed. “I am the Storm Dragon now. I am all powerful.”
“I will kill them,” the yomon-ga said with worry creasing his face.
“And I will kill you. What do I care about two mortals?”
No. Those words weren’t right. Remember yourself. Remember who you are, what you’re fighting for.
“Don’t kill them!” Turesobei said, hastily. “I will — I will let you return alive to Winter.”
“We’ll never return to our prison!”
“Then I shall send you back.”
Turesobei summoned onto the mountain shelf a cyclone with its boundary along the edge of the shelf and the wall. The winds whipped and howled along the edges of the shelf and against the mountainside. The yomon trying to climb down over the edge were hurled back onto the shelf. He drew the cyclone inward, making it narrower and narrower. The yomon and his companions were hurtled into the center. The yomon-ga was dragged along, his feet sliding along the ground as the winds tugged at him.
“I mean it!” the red devil shouted. “I will snap their—”
Storm Dragon Lu Bei shot down through the eye of the storm and fell upon the yomon-ga, biting deep into his neck, his fangs shooting sparks into the devil’s body. In shock, the devil dropped Iniru and the Winter Child. The swirling winds caught both of them, and they spun around through the air without landing. Lu Bei dug his fangs in deeper. Turesobei punched his claws into the yomon-ga’s stomach. The devil gurgled fiery blood and died.
The closing winds pulled Enashoma and Zaiporo off their feet into the air, spinning them around with Iniru and the Winter Child. The yomon grasped at the ground, trying not to get caught up. The winds picked up speed and closed in further. Awasa, Hakamoro, and Aikonshi were ripped up into the air along with the last of the yomon. Bodies collided against one another.
“Sobei!” Iniru shouted. “Remember yourself! You’re going to kill us all. We’re not your enemies!”
He remembered. But he had to close the gate. He had to get the yomon back into the Celestial Realm of Winter. This was the only way. He had to defeat his enemies. He was the Storm Dragon, and they had dared to oppose him.
The winds tightened around him, and he began to force them toward the gate. As soon as he focused the cyclone’s bottom onto the portal, the energies locked. The cyclone turned sideways and formed a wind funnel that pulled everything toward the gate. Yomon zipped through. Awasa, sword in hand, swinging it still, tumbled into the portal.
“Sobei!” Iniru cried as she was sucked into Winter.
Enashoma and Zaiporo, holding hands, went flying in. Dragon Lu Bei’s wings were not powerful enough — the cyclone drew him in as well.
Aikonshi leashed Hakamoro with her shadow tendrils, then locked them onto the Spider’s webbing at the tunnel entrance. She cried out, straining to hold them against the howling winds. Motekeru snatched the Winter Child out of the air and planted his feet. Even with his great weight and strength, he was slipping toward the portal.
“The portal, child!” Motekeru shouted. “You must close the portal.”
“I can’t close it from this side! That’s not how it works.”
Motekeru nodded and, shielding the child in his arms, he charged into the portal.
Aikonshi held onto Hakamoro, but he was only feet away from the portal and her tendrils were strained to breaking. The last of the yomon lost the battle and were sucked in.
I am the Storm Dragon. I am Turesobei. The portal must be clo
sed. I must save my friends … from the devils on the other side. His lightning eyes locked onto Aikonshi. She’d be sucked in, too, if the winds continued. He couldn’t control the winds anymore, but maybe if he went through the portal, the winds would go with him.
Aikonshi shouted at him. “By the gods, go, you big dumb dragon! Your companions will be eaten alive in there!”
Turesobei snaked around and squeezed through the portal into the Realm of Winter.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Turesobei squirmed through the gate into the Ancient Cold and Deep, a land of endless snow as far as he could see. The child had opened the gate at midnight in Okoro. But here, in the distance, a strange red sun set slowly into the ice.
The cyclone had followed him, its polarity now reversed. Locked onto the gate, it pulled things on this side toward Okoro. Here, the gate sat at the top of a steep ridge covered in ice. The cyclone had blasted everyone, human and yomon, down the slope.
At the base, the yomon had recovered and surrounded Turesobei’s unarmed companions. Unarmed except for Awasa, who kept them at bay with the white-steel blade — for now. Dragon Lu Bei zoomed around, coughing lightning at the yomon, helping Awasa hold them off. Motekeru joined them. Aikonshi and Hakamoro hadn’t come through. They were still on the Okoro side.
The winds of the cyclone tugged at everyone, but the winds weren’t strong enough to pull anyone that far up the slope. Storm Dragon Turesobei strained at the energies until the cyclone refocused on him.
Remember who you are. You have friends. You must save them from the yomon, from your enemies ….
You must crush your enemies.
With a booming roar that thundered across the land, Turesobei unleashed a crackling web of lightning into the yomon, incinerating some and breaking their ranks. He landed amongst his battered and exhausted companions. The hurricane-force winds encircled them in an empty eye and blasted the yomon back, kicking up a snowstorm around them.
It wasn’t easy to protect them and not fight the yomon. It wasn’t easy to speak. He faced the Winter Child.
“You must close the gate.”
“I know. And I will.”
“I can fly everyone up to the gate. Once the others are through, you close it, and I’ll rush you through before it shuts. Have to hurry. Don’t know how long I can manage all this power or stay myself.”
She shook her head. “I am the Winter Queen. This is my realm. I have to stay here. I cannot go back. You must leave me behind. Don’t argue about it. Just go. When I speak the words, the gate will—”
The tip of Sumada punched out through the Winter Child’s chest. Awasa withdrew the white-steel blade and sneered.
“The will of the Warlock shall be done in Okoro. Winter will spread forever. His vengeance is mine!”
The child’s frightened, ice-blue eyes locked onto Turesobei. He nodded, understanding what would now happen. She let out a piercing wail of song in Ancient Zaboko. Broken and gurgled as it was, it held power nonetheless. She was the Winter Queen. This was her realm. The Winter Gate, glowing bright as Avida, flickered and went out. The child coughed blood and died.
He closed his eyes. Bright flashes flickered through his body. Anger, hopelessness, regret … more anger. They were trapped in the Ancient Cold and Deep. Forever. If the portal could be opened from this side, then surely the yomon would’ve done so ages ago.
Screaming, Awasa leapt toward Turesobei and clipped his dragon-form in the side. The white-steel cut through the energy flesh as if it were his own. He screamed in pain. The storm winds faltered.
Motekeru shouldered into Awasa, knocking her back. She scrambled to her feet — nose busted — blood smeared over her face. She spat teeth and dove for the sword. She gripped it and was up on her feet before Motekeru could reach her. He backed away.
Struggling to keep the winds going, Turesobei drew the eye in closer on them. The yomon hadn’t given up. They hurled themselves against the wall of wind, trying to break through.
Stuck here … against most of the One Hundred and the Eight. He might not be himself much longer, and if not, who then would protect Shoma and Iniru? The wolfhounds, Lu Bei, Zaiporo, and Motekeru? That wouldn’t be enough. He had to get them all away from here safely — and fast.
He gathered the storm winds in until they formed a tight column around his companions. He shaped the base of the cyclone and lifted them all from the ground. Everyone huddled together, while still facing off against Awasa. The wolfhounds didn’t complain. Magic, no matter how grand or strange, didn’t faze them.
“I will … carry you … safety,” he said.
He strained to talk now. His thoughts became jumbled. He was losing himself to the dragon. Every moment he used the powers, his will to remain Turesobei within the Storm Dragon broke down.
Only a few feet off the ground, Awasa swung the sword, carving an opening through the cyclone. She fell.
He tugged at her with the winds, but she swatted with the sword again, severing the connection.
“Awasa, come with us!” Shoma called.
“Never again!”
It was hard enough for him to use the winds to carry along the white-steel sword unsheathed, with the blade cutting through the energies, but it was impossible with Awasa swinging it.
“Awasa … please …”
She glared at him and swung the sword into the cyclone wall. “I hate you! I hate you!”
He couldn’t maintain this much longer. He couldn’t carry her. Lu Bei dove at her but missed. The winds made it too hard for him to maneuver. Lu Bei tried a light blast of lightning, but she held the blade up in front of her and the energy split against it. She was getting better with the sword, moment by moment, despite her fatigue. Turesobei didn’t know what that meant, but it wasn’t anything good.
There was no more time. She would have to face the yomon on her own.
He had to let her go.
With a sad roar, he beat his wings and flew off, carrying the funnel cloud with his companions in it beneath him. He rocketed far over the icy landscape — league after league of white, with no discernible features.
Anger burned through him. The thoughts that were pure Turesobei became fleeting. He had to put them down safely and get away, and soon. At last he saw a village. There was no way to know whether it housed anyone friendly, but it was the best he could do for them. He released the bottom of the cyclone and dropped them into a snow bank a league away from the village. Bringing the winds back into him, he shot back into the sky. Their cries to him faded swiftly.
The dragon raged, a swift thunderstorm that scoured the land with blizzards and lightning and thunder. He tried to think of those he loved.
Contain it. I must contain it. I could harm people.
But he raged on.
My friends need me: Iniru, Shoma, Zaiporo, Lu Bei — all stranded here. The yomon are out there … possibly demons and beasts, too. They need me.
Iniru and Shoma. Iniru and Shoma. Focus on them.
The two girls. Don’t let their faces out of your mind.
The two … their faces …
The power is mine. This land of ice will bow to me. I am the Storm Dragon. Though I am more than that. I am … I am …
Another dragon flew beside him, a much smaller Storm Dragon.
“Master, remember yourself!” This dragon’s eyes blazed amber. “Think of the kavaru on your chest. That is your true soul. Not this storm. The kavaru. Your true soul. You are more than Chonda Lu’s heir. You are Chonda …”
A brilliant amber glow poured out from his kavaru. His thoughts turned fuzzy. Spots danced in his vision.
“I am Chonda Turesobei.”
The dragon form exploded away from him in midair. The wings and snout and body and tails disappeared in a burst of wind and thunder.
They plummeted. Lu Bei, small and bat-winged once more, grabbed him by the collar and beat his wings, slowing the fall and steering them. He had no hope of keeping them aloft.
They crashed into a snow bank that wasn’t nearly deep enough, and struck the ice.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Turesobei awoke shivering in a mushy puddle of melted but refreezing snow. Scorched, scratched to Torment, and bruised all over. Everything ached from his skin to deep in his bones. Blood trickled from a cut down his side, matching the cut Awasa had slashed into his dragon form. He moved his left hand and grimaced — the wrist was broken, forearm too, maybe. But he wouldn’t complain. That fall could’ve killed him, probably would have without Lu Bei’s help. The book lay beside him. He touched a finger to the spine. A pulse of magic still ran through Lu Bei. The fetch had taught him that trick after they’d returned from Wakaro.
The setting red sun stained the icy landscape with an eerie cast. A large shadow passed over him.
He turned around. Three burly forms, with their broad backs to the sun, loomed above him. Because of the shadows he couldn’t make out their features. They seemed to be wearing furs like the yomon had, but he didn’t think they were yomon. The yomon had disturbed the kenja currents in a tangible way, and these beings, while big like the yomon, weren’t quite as tall and their proportions were different.
A deep, growling voice said, “The Ancient Cold and Deep is not a good place for a human. Not even one who can turn into a dragon.”
Turesobei scooted around so he could see them in the light. He gasped and shuffled back in surprise.
“Easy, son. I’m neither yomon nor kagi. Not quite everything here’s evil.”
These beings weren’t baojendari or zaboko or k’chasans or anything he’d ever heard of. Well, they were somewhat like k’chasans. Except where k’chasans sort of resembled cats, these beings resembled cave bears … with yellow-tinged and white fur. And they were a lot more bearlike than k’chasans were catlike. The bear-men had giant hands, round ears, beady black eyes, broad shoulders, wide feet, and fat bellies. The one who spoke wore a blue scarf, a leather breastplate, and a gold kilt. He carried an enormous axe slung over his shoulder.
Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3 Page 62