Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

  “Great Master, we have brought fresh sacrifices. Many of them. Some of them … they are unique.”

  Leaves rustled. Branches bounced and creaked.

  A figure stepped out and walked along a limb all the way to the edge, his steps so light that the increasingly small branch bounced only lightly. He stepped onto the tip of the branch that brushed the shore, and even this delicate section held him up. The figure’s tall but thin build suggested a baojendari man. His features were refined. He had long, brown hair and tanned skin. An emerald kavaru stone embedded in his forehead matched his eyes and his pale green robes.

  “Breaking my illusion was not polite,” he said in a whispery voice like wind through spring leaves.

  “You are not a Kaiaru,” Turesobei replied with certainty, though how he could know so surely and so quickly, he had no idea.

  “And why,” the being asked, strolling toward them, “do you think that I am not a Kaiaru? For I certainly am.”

  Visions flashed through Turesobei’s mind. “You have the form of the Kaiaru Ysashu, who disappeared four millennia ago. His kavaru was lost. You are not he.”

  “Master?” Lu Bei asked. “How do … how do you know that?”

  “I just …” Turesobei shrugged. “I just do.”

  The being from the oak scowled. “I do not like you at all, boy. And you are wrong — I am Kaiaru.”

  “No, what you are,” Turesobei said, “is an eidakami-ga, one who has lived many centuries and acquired enormous power. These knobs are your children.”

  The ga sneered. “You are not easily deceived, are you?”

  “Not when it comes to this. I am descended from a Kaiaru. I carry the stone of one. And, unlike you, I have bonded with the stone and know how to use it. Why do you pretend to be a Kaiaru?”

  The eidakami-ga shrugged. “I like the form.”

  “How did you come across the kavaru?”

  “I found it.”

  Turesobei smirked. “I’m sure you did.”

  “May we go, please?” Enashoma begged. “My brother doesn’t mean to insult you.”

  A smile spread across the eidakami-ga’s face. “Of course your brother intends to insult me. His kind would naturally take offense toward a pretender.”

  “My kind?” Turesobei said.

  “Is it your turn now to pretend you are something else? What is your name, Kaiaru?”

  “I am not a Kaiaru. I’m merely descended from one. My name is Chonda Turesobei.”

  The eidakami-ga waved a hand flippantly. “This stone does not remember anything anymore, so I will take your word for it, Kaiaru.”

  Turesobei sighed. “I’m not Kaiaru.”

  “Then how did you know that I wasn’t? You even know whose stone this is.”

  “Look,” Turesobei snapped, growing frustrated. “Are you going to let us go?”

  “Hardly.” He grinned malevolently. “You have not asked my name … it is Satsupan.” He cast his eyes up and down Motekeru. “I like this one. The work is intricate, mostly wood.” He made a half-bow to Motekeru. “You, sir, I shall not harm. You may go if you like.”

  “What I shall do,” Motekeru said, “is rip you limb from limb.”

  “Oh, do please tell me you intended the pun,” said Satsupan. He frowned at Lu Bei. “What is your power, winged one?”

  “My power is to blast my master’s enemies,” Lu Bei spat.

  “Well, your posturing does not impress me. If you could not beat my knobs, then you cannot defeat me. This is not your complete form. Show me.”

  “Humor him,” Turesobei said to Lu Bei. The fetch turned into a book and fell into Turesobei’s hands. Then he returned to fetch form.

  “Brilliant! Simply marvelous.” Satsupan sighed with delight. “You, too, may go if you wish. I mean you no harm.”

  “I must stay near Master always. I am his fetch.

  “Pity.” Satsupan examined the others. “You three,” he said, pointing to Kurine, Narbenu, and Kemsu, “are boring.” He spent an extra moment looking at Iniru. “You’re too much like them, and I remember your kind well enough. Boring.” He pointed at Enashoma and Zaiporo. “It has been many ages since I’ve seen baojendari and zaboko as well. But again, boring. Especially zaboko. So many, for so long.”

  “How long have you been here, in this place?” Turesobei asked.

  “I have been here since before this was the Ancient Cold and Deep. When it was a larger, more prosperous land. Before it was split off from the normal world.”

  “Split off?” Turesobei said.

  “Indeed. I have no clue who did it or why, but a portion of Okoro was copied and split off and tossed into … whatever this truly is. In the Ancient Cold and Deep time passes, but the world does not evolve. It does not change. And it is an old world. You’ve seen the red sun … dying … casting the world in eternal winter.”

  Satsupan bent down and strummed his fingers through the water, sending bright ripples through the room. “All my brethren died. Only those trees that could grow along the hot springs survived. But I had something special: a taiotsu.”

  Turesobei craned his neck to peer down into the water. “A sun stone?”

  “A fragment of the sun in its brighter days, fallen from the heavens, as with lumps of white or black ore from the moons, but so rare, so incredibly rare, that you’d think white ore was nothing more than copper. The taiotsu gives me warmth eternal. The knobs brought it down into the cavern and then, to survive, I reversed my growth. And believe me, that was not easy. But nutrients … alas, I have drained the soil these many years. I require nutrients, and my knobs cannot go far into the world because they cannot easily endure the cold beyond the caverns. So when something comes along … something of physical worth … well, it must be sacrificed so that I may continue. That means all of you, naturally, except the machine and the book.”

  “That’s not acceptable,” Turesobei said.

  “Do you wish to bargain with me?”

  “No,” Turesobei said.

  “That is too bad.”

  “We won’t give up easily,” Iniru said.

  “Ah, she speaks. How delightful.” He spun to look at them all derisively. “I never thought you would give up easily. But I also don’t think that you can win. You cannot overpower two hundred knobs. And if you think my power is not significant, then you are in for quite a rude surprise. I do have a proposal, however.” He jabbed a finger toward Turesobei, Lu Bei, and Motekeru. “If the three of you will perform a minor quest for me, I will let these others go without eating them. Not the sonoke, though. I simply must eat. No one has wandered in here in over a decade.”

  “What quest?” Turesobei asked.

  “Long ago, I fell in love with a nozakami. We can still sometimes communicate through dreams. She is out there, but she is bound to a statue in her old vine grove, deep in a cave. She has faded to almost nothing, but here she could thrive. Retrieve her and the statue, and bring them here. Then I will free you and your companions. However, if you do not return within two weeks, I shall assume that you failed or that you have betrayed your companions, whom I shall begin to consume — one by one, day by day — starting with the sonoke.”

  “What’s the catch?” Iniru asked.

  “Ah, clever, aren’t you? I have sent many after her before, and none have returned, no matter the enticement. I have no idea why. I presume the trek there is dangerous.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I need more than Motekeru and Lu Bei,” Turesobei said. “I need the goronku to guide me. I don’t know this land or how to survive in it. We came through the Winter Gate, from Okoro and —”

  “Oh, very well and fine. You may take the younger male goronku with you as a guide — but not the other two.”

  “I need two mounts to ride there, and I need Iniru as well. She has great skill at sneaking and thieving.”

  Iniru shot him a look, but said nothing.

  Satsupan tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I
think you are trying to save as many as possible and thus reduce your losses.”

  “The two amber hounds are bound to my kavaru. Enashoma is my sister. Kurine is … my betrothed. If you do not think that I care for them …”

  “Fine. You may take the k’chasan with you.”

  “You will not harm any of them for three weeks.”

  “Two was what I offered. And you have my word.”

  Turesobei pointed at him. “Say it again, and recite the Vow of the Ga.”

  Satsupan stamped his foot. “I will not!” The limbs of the tree creaked and groaned; leaves shivered and rattled.

  Turesobei strained a smile. The eidakami-ga was not just bound to the tree. He was the tree. What they saw before them was a manifestation of energy made to appear human. This was possible for some ga, but impossible for a normal eidakami. Satsupan had probably spent centuries mastering the form he now took.

  “Then I will not seek the statue for you,” Turesobei said. “I will stay here, and you can kill me.”

  Satsupan stalked over and stared him in the eyes. “I would not regret that.”

  “I would not regret fighting and killing more of your knobs, of unleashing Motekeru’s full power against them — or unleashing mine. You have no idea what you are dealing with. See this sigil on my cheek? If I become desperate enough, I can become the Storm Dragon.”

  “Like Naruwakiru?”

  “I ate Naruwakiru’s heart. Her power resides in me.”

  “That — that is impossible.”

  “Touch the mark on my cheek and see.”

  Satsupan tentatively touched the mark with his forefinger. He drew back and stepped away. “Why have you not become the dragon already? You could have stopped the knobs from bringing you here.”

  “I did become the Storm Dragon once, and I nearly became the dragon permanently. I don’t wish to do it again, but I will if I have to, to save my companions. You will wait three weeks. Take the vow.”

  His face ashen, Satsupan spun around and faced his tree. Long moments passed without him saying anything.

  “You do remember how to make the vow, don’t you?” Turesobei asked.

  Satsupan spun and cursed at him. Tears welled in his eyes. “You are the most insolent creature I have ever met.” Satsupan stuck his fingers in his mouth and drew forth a golden cord of energy which he wrapped around his neck. “I hereby vow by Kaiwen Earth-Mother to not harm anyone here present nor allow the knobs to harm them, until three weeks have passed or the statue I desire is brought here to me. I reserve the right to harm in self-defense. I swear this on my life.”

  Turesobei half-bowed. “Thank you.”

  “Leave now!” the eidakami-ga shouted. “Leave the way you entered. A thousand paces past the cavern entrance, you will find a blind in the canyon wall. If you take it, you will find a path that climbs up out of the canyon. It is much faster than taking the long way out. Travel due north for two days until you reach the crumbled tower, turn east and travel for a day. You will come to a stone formation the shape of a fan. A thousand paces further north, there is a cave entrance behind a stone door. Enter and retrieve the statue.”

  Turesobei looked at Enashoma, holding a hand over her broken, bleeding nose. “I must rest a while and see to my friends’ injuries.”

  “I want you gone,” Satsupan said. “I can heal them. I swear that I will. Just go.”

  Tears streaked down Kurine’s face as they prepared to leave. Turesobei hugged her. “We’ll be back.”

  She squeezed hard and sobbed. “Promise?”

  “I promise.” He peeled himself free, and kissed Shoma on the cheek. “You’ll be safe, Little Blossom.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’ve heard Grandfather talking about the vow before. I’m more worried about you.”

  He whispered in her ear. “I know it’s a trap, so I’ll be okay. Did you see his face? He’s afraid I might actually succeed. Explain this to the others. Be brave.”

  The knobs escorted them to the edge of the cave. It was nearly midnight. Only a light, fine snow was falling now. At least his storm had diminished.

  “You certainly were antagonistic back there,” Iniru said as Turesobei cast the spell of the moon mirrors.

  “I know how to deal with a kami-ga, especially one that old and proud. He hasn’t been challenged in ages.”

  “Maybe, but I also think that the storm sigil on your cheek is giving you a lot of confidence,” she added.

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asked.

  “Not yet,” Iniru replied.

  “I just wish I could’ve done more. If I’d had a prepared strip for banishing spirits, I could’ve gotten us out of the cavern …”

  “No spell strips, no white-steel sword, too many enemies,” Motekeru said flatly. “You did the best you could.”

  “So this is a trap, right?” Kemsu said.

  “There’s a reason no one comes back,” Lu Bei said. He was in fetch form, but only had his head sticking out of Turesobei’s pack. He was wearing his knitted hat. “What I don’t understand is why we’re being sent at all. What purpose does it serve?”

  “You don’t think there’s a chance that he’s sincere?” Iniru asked. “Maybe he really does want the statue and is in love with the girl, only it’s guarded.”

  “Love can make someone do strange things,” Kemsu said distantly, like he was thinking of something entirely different.

  “I guess it’s possible,” Turesobei said. “But then why not keep just Enashoma and send all the rest of us? Why not let us go and offer a reward? Maybe he’s sending us to someone who has control over him … as tribute. We’ll find out.”

  “Why didn’t you just threaten him with the Storm Dragon to begin with?” Kemsu said.

  “He would’ve called his bluff,” Motekeru answered.

  “How do you know?” Kemsu asked.

  “Like Master said, he’s a proud old ga, and all his knobs were watching. Bad enough he had to make the vow in front of them.”

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Turesobei said. “I knew if I could get him to make the vow, we’d have a chance of getting through this without me turning into the Storm Dragon.” He looked to Iniru. “I promised I would try to avoid doing that.”

  It wasn’t easy in the dark, but Iniru spotted the blind. The slope up the steep canyon wall had clearly been cut into it long ago, when people still lived here.

  “Master,” said Lu Bei, “about you recognizing which Kaiaru’s stone he wore and all that … were you actually offended by it?”

  Turesobei glanced back at the fetch. “I honestly don’t know what came over me, or how I knew. I don’t really want to talk about it, because I suspect if I did I’d just end up passing out.”

  Chapter Thirty

  After they had traveled a league beyond the canyon, Turesobei pulled on his reins.

  “We need to stop. We have three weeks to do this. There’s no reason to run ourselves into the ground. My mount seems irritated to be moving at all. Let’s camp early and get plenty of rest.”

  “How can you be so calm about all this?” Kemsu asked as they dismounted and prepared to set up camp. “I’m too nerve-wracked to sleep.”

  Turesobei gave him a half-smile. “This isn’t my first time rushing off to save someone I love with little assurance of how much time I had or whether I could get past the dangers I’d face. But this time it’s easier.”

  “How so?” Kemsu asked.

  “The eidakami-ga cannot violate his vow. So I know they’ll still be alive, if we can return. When I went to rescue Iniru … well, we figured she would be dead by the time we got there.”

  Iniru kissed him on the cheek. “But you came anyway.” He started to smile, but then she shot him a look. “Don’t think that I’ve forgiven you for picking up another betrothed to replace the last one.”

  “At least this one’s much nicer,” he said, though he immediately regretted saying it.

  Lu Bei slapped Tures
obei on the back of the head, and turned back into a book. Kemsu shook his head in wonderment.

  Iniru sighed. “Sometimes you make me feel so … oh, never mind. Let’s build the snow house.” She looked at both of them. “And if either of you think I’m sleeping in a snow house by myself to meet some moral code the people of this land have, you can forget it.”

  Motekeru set the final block in place. “I would stay with you, my lady.”

  “My lady?” She snorted. “Just call me Iniru. Please.”

  “No. It would not be proper to do so.”

  Turesobei chuckled silently. Iniru didn’t give up a fight easily, but Motekeru wasn’t easy to argue with. The lack of facial expressions was worse than his intimidating build. He didn’t inflect his voice much, either. It was hard to judge his moods.

  Iniru eyed Motekeru cautiously, and then shrugged. “Oh … okay. Thank you for the offer, but I’d rather snuggle up for warmth.”

  “As you wish,” Motekeru said.

  Turesobei smiled, until he noticed Kemsu was smiling, too. Then they both frowned at one another.

  With the snow house finished, they climbed in. As they did, Turesobei noticed Iniru wince.

  “You’re injured,” he said.

  “I was about to say,” she replied. “Honestly. Do you have the strength to heal me?”

  “I always have strength enough for you,” he said.

  Iniru slapped him lightly on the cheek. “Aw, is that why you’re trying to marry another girl?”

  They stretched the sleeping furs across the floor of the snow house. With the wind blocked out, the star stones glowing, and their body heat trapped, the warmth inside grew steadily. By morning, it would be an almost tolerable cool. Narbenu claimed a proper snow house carefully made was almost as warm as their village underground, but Turesobei found that difficult to believe. After a small meal of cheese and dried sonoke strips, Turesobei meditated for an hour, blocking out his worries and drawing in kenja to replenish himself.

  “Okay, I’m ready. Who has injuries?”

  “Take care of yourself first,” Iniru said. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you’re indispensable. You can do things no one else can do.”