Storm Phase Series: Books 1-3

by Hayden, David Alastair

Chapter Thirty-Six

  For the next several days, they pushed on as hard as they dared, over increasingly rough terrain with jagged rocks, sudden gullies, and sloping hills. But with no sign of Awasa and the yomon, they eventually slowed to a more reasonable pace that wouldn’t kill the sonoke. The only good thing about this region was how sparsely populated it was, so they didn’t have to worry about the yomon tearing through any villages. This also meant game was plentiful. Unfortunately, most of it was able to fight back. Periodically, Turesobei would cast the spell of the baby’s breath to blow snow and debris over their tracks. It was the first wind spell an apprentice learned and was normally sufficient only for blowing out a candle across a room. Here, its effect was considerable.

  Turesobei was settling down for the night in the snow house with the others when Iniru appeared at the entrance.

  “I’m coming in.” By the time Narbenu could start to complain about the impropriety of it, she was already inside. “Turesobei is needed in our snow house.”

  “He can’t go,” Narbenu said, “and you can’t stay here any longer.”

  “His sister needs him,” Iniru said in her screw-you voice.

  Narbenu frowned. “I don’t think —”

  “Motekeru is there, so is his sister,” Iniru said irritably. “We’re not going to do anything improper.”

  “I’m going to check on my sister,” Turesobei told Narbenu authoritatively. “I’ll be back.”

  “Sobei,” Zaiporo said. “Tell Shoma … tell her … tell her I said … hi.”

  “Um … okay,” Turesobei said, and he stepped outside, following Iniru.

  “What’s wrong with Shoma?” Turesobei asked.

  “She’s cracking under all the pressure. She’s exhausted, and seeing Awasa, I think it really shook her up. I tried to comfort her, but she’s mad at me.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because I flirted a bit with Zaiporo a few times. Several, maybe … I think.”

  “You flirt with a lot of people; it doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

  “Yeah, but he flirted back and … it’s just … you know how it is.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Well, you probably don’t.”

  “I feel like I don’t know what’s going on between us all anymore.”

  “Well, if we could share the same snow house, we’d all communicate better, and you’d get to see Shoma more. That would help. If Narbenu wasn’t such a prude. I’m really not fond of him.”

  “Narbenu’s a good man, Niru. He saved my life and took me in. He risked his neck to help rescue you, too. He’s just trying to do what he thinks is right. He feels responsible for us.”

  “Maybe so,” Iniru said, “but I don’t think he’s that simple. He has a slave. Good men don’t keep slaves.”

  “And you’re an assassin. Good people don’t kill other people.”

  Iniru spun on him. “Oh, yeah?”

  Turesobei shrugged. “I’m not holding it against you. Just saying the world isn’t that simple. And things are different here. Just like they’re different for k’chasan qengai and k’chasan families. Kemsu’s paying a blood debt, and if he’s okay with that, then so am I.”

  “Well, I can see Kurine is good for one thing.”

  “Wait … what? What does she have to do with anything?”

  “You were a lot easier to manage when you had less backbone,” Iniru said with a sigh. “Still, it has to be a good thing in the end.”

  “What makes you think Kurine has anything to do with me having more backbone? I’ve always had backbone!”

  “Before her, you never thought of me as anything but wonderful. I was magical … perfect. It was a good feeling. Now, I’m an assassin … though an excusable one, at least.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek and stroked her hand down his neck. “Reality had to set in eventually, I suppose.”

  With that, she ducked inside the girls’ snow house, leaving him to stand in the cold, utterly bewildered. Kurine had given him backbone? He thought of all the times he’d stood up to people, dared the unknown, faced dangers deemed insurmountable, done things his way. He’d faced down the Storm Dragon and was still himself. How, by the love of Kaiwen Earth-Mother, could he not have backbone already? It just didn’t make any sense.

  He shook his head. No sense in pondering it. If Shoma, Kurine, and Awasa didn’t make sense to him, there was no way he’d ever understand Iniru. He entered their snow house. Motekeru sat in the corner with Enashoma cradled in his bronze-jointed, wooden arms. Enashoma was sobbing, her head against his chest. Turesobei paused, overwhelmed by the absurdity of that image.

  Kurine popped up from the side and gave him a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. She gave Iniru a seething glance then said, “Enashoma’s been crying for an hour now. I did what I could … but she doesn’t really know me and …”

  “It’s okay,” he responded. “Thank you for trying.” He turned to Iniru. “Thank you both.”

  He knelt beside Enashoma. She spun into his arms. Motekeru nodded to him, and Turesobei nodded back.

  “Shoma, Shoma, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  “I’m … I’m fine,” she sobbed.

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “I don’t want to trouble you, Sobei. You’ve been through so much. And seeing Awasa … you must be —”

  “I’m fine,” he said.

  “You’re lying.”

  “I’m trying not to think about it.” That was a lie. He thought about Awasa all the time while riding, even more now that he’d seen her. That was the problem with riding in the cold all day long as fast as you could, bundled in thick furs with your face covered: there wasn’t much chance for conversation. He and Zaiporo had long ago run out of things to talk about, and talking between mounts was difficult. Even Kurine had largely given up, now that the terrain was rough.

  “Awasa … is that what’s bothering you?” he asked.

  “Yes … no. It’s everything. This isn’t what I set out for. Freedom, a little adventure — that’s what I wanted. I miss our world. I miss warmth. I miss home. I miss Grandfather … hot meals … tea … even Mother. Life was easy at home … Home was okay, I just wanted to be myself … to marry who I wanted … see a little of the world.”

  “I know. I failed you. I’m sorry. I wish I’d made you stay.”

  “I don’t want to end up like Awasa. I’m okay with dying, but not that. Never that. If something like that happens to me, kill me, okay? Don’t hesitate. Don’t wait because you’re going to try to save me. Just end it.”

  “Shoma —”

  “Promise me.”

  “I’ll do better than that. I promise I won’t ever let it happen.” He held her for a while, letting her cry. Then he kissed her tenderly on the nose. “I love you, Little Blossom. Be strong. I’ll get you home yet.” He sat back and smiled at her. “Now, I have just the thing to cheer you up. Lu Bei!”

  A few moments later, the fetch flew into the snow house, circled the room three times, sticking his tongue out at Iniru and Kurine with each pass, and landed before Enashoma. He swept one hand out and bowed before her.

  “My lady,” Lu Bei said. “Most Wondrous Blossom, Fairest of All. I have come to bring happiness. Which, of course, means that I have come to serve you tea.” In his other hand, he held a tin bowl.

  “We don’t have any tea,” she muttered through sobs. “And no fire.”

  “Tut. Tut.” Lu Bei shook a finger at her. “Such negative thinking.” He held the bowl out. “Water, please.”

  Kurine grabbed a canteen and poured clean water into the bowl. The water was nearly frozen. The only way they could keep it liquid was by storing it with the star stones. Lu Bei flicked his hand out, and suddenly, between his fingers, he held a sachet filled with herbs. He dropped the sachet into the tin bowl. Jasmine — Turesobei picked out the scent immediately, along with …

  “Tea buds!” he said. “You have white tea buds. You were holding out.”

&nbs
p; Enashoma clapped and laughed.

  “Desperate times call for special teas,” Lu Bei said. “I’ve always got something good stashed away, for just the right moment.”

  “Where do you stash anything away?” Kurine said. “You’re naked.”

  “Madam!” Lu Bei said, folding his wings around to cover himself. His amber cheeks darkened. “We do not point out such things. We also do not question the magic of tea storage. Are we clear?”

  “Um … okay … sure,” she responded.

  “Good.” He stuck his tongue out at her. “Now, master, if you would so kindly warm the tea. Friend Motekeru, I think master could benefit from a bit of assistance.”

  “For Enashoma,” Motekeru said. “Of course.”

  Turesobei cast a fire-wielding spell and held a hand out toward Motekeru, who spat a small flame into it. Turesobei held his hand under the tin bowl until steam began to rise from it.

  “You can hold fire!” Kurine said.

  “It’s a simple trick. Just a minor talent and a bit of focus. I couldn’t walk through fire, just to be clear. That would require serious magic.”

  Lu Bei dipped a finger into the bowl. “Ahhh … perfection.” He passed the bowl to Enashoma, but she handed it to Turesobei, wiped away her tears, and took Lu Bei into a hug, squeezing him tightly.

  “Oh my, I cannot breathe, my lady. Cannot breathe. I shall perish!”

  Laughing, she let him go and took the bowl. She drank from it and sighed with pleasure. “Oh, it’s like a bit of home. It’s perfect.” After a while, she handed it to Turesobei. “Have a sip. But just one. A small one. The tea is mine.”

  He took a sip, and it was like tasting home. Enashoma let Iniru take a sip next, and she too sighed with pleasure. Enashoma took the bowl to Kurine. “Try some.”

  “Are you sure?” Kurine said, almost blushing. “It’s your tea.”

  “You are my friend now. We’re almost sisters now, I guess. I want you to try it.”

  Nervously, Kurine tasted the tea. “It’s … it’s sort of bitter and tangy. The herb is nice. Sorry, I didn’t mean to — it is tasty. We don’t have anything like that.”

  “I know,” Enashoma moaned.

  “I am reminded,” said Lu Bei, “of the Ballad of the Man Who Could Not Taste Tea. Have you heard that one?”

  None of them had heard it, of course. Lu Bei recited the tale, delighting everyone, especially Shoma. Turesobei suspected the fetch was making up the tale as he went. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Enashoma was a little bit better.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  As they continued on, the land ceased to be barren, and they were forced to bypass a region of hot springs that hosted dozens of villages. After that, the terrain leveled out again, and they picked up speed, soon returning to wild, unpopulated areas. They encountered few problems, and the yomon remained out of sight, as did their reitsu pursuer, if he still followed them. Turesobei hadn’t detected him since the blizzard. Lu Bei and Narbenu were both certain the yomon needed little if any sleep, and their stride was long, which would allow them to cover much distance. So if the yomon picked up the trail, they would close in fast.

  As they crested a hill, sunlight sparkled along lines on a flat plain in the distance.

  “What is that?” Turesobei asked.

  “The Glass Sea,” Narbenu replied.

  “What are those lines?” Zaiporo asked.

  “The lines,” said Narbenu, “are the result of sailing ships traveling across the ice, pushing aside the snow that has fallen onto the smooth surface.”

  An hour later, they stood on the shore. The sea was solid, glassy on top, with a dark gray color underneath. And it was wrong, all wrong. Turesobei was standing on the edge of a sea, and there was only the faintest scent of salt in the air, as if he were yet leagues away from the shore.

  Zaiporo walked out onto the sea and began to slide around, despite the treads on his overboots. “Whoa, it’s slick.”

  “That’s how come ships can sail on it,” Narbenu said. “The sails catch the wind, and the skates glide along the surface.”

  “Sailing on ships with skates underneath, that I would like to see,” said Lu Bei.

  “The ice isn’t going to break beneath us, is it?” Enashoma asked.

  Narbenu shook his head. “They say that even the thinnest patch of ice on the sea could hold the weight of ten goronku. I’ve never heard of ice cracking or breaking on the sea. Never heard of anyone falling in. Many people fish the sea, despite the dangers out here. They drill holes through the ice to do so. I’ve heard they have to drill ten feet in most places to reach water.”

  While everyone took a short lunch break, Narbenu scanned their surroundings, searching for some marker to get their bearings. It was hard with a plain of barren ice behind them and a frozen, barren sea ahead. And he had never been here before.

  “With the treasure you took from the pool in the cave, we could afford a ship to transport us there,” Narbenu said. “If we could find a port.”

  “I didn’t think we needed a ship,” Turesobei said.

  “It’s not necessary, since our mounts can handle the ice,” Narbenu replied. “But there’s less traction, and they will travel much more slowly across it. A ship would be a lot faster. I never mentioned it before because we couldn’t afford one. We could also use some precise directions on where the Forbidden Library is on the sea.”

  Turesobei knelt. “I’ll see if I can detect any presences nearby, anyone that might help us.” He extended the spell out as far as he possibly could, but didn’t pick up any signs of people or beasts. “So what now? Skirt the coast and look for a port, or just take off across the Glass Sea?”

  “It’s your call,” Iniru said, “but I think we should try to find a port first. We just can’t take too long doing so.”

  “Are there many ports?” Turesobei asked Narbenu.

  “I’ve heard that there are a number of tiny villages, and ships visit them regularly, but there aren’t many ports.”

  Turesobei considered their options. The ice should inhibit the yomon as much as them, if not more. But a ship would let them outrace the yomon completely. “Let’s ride along the coast and try to find a village, at least to get more info about the Forbidden Library. Anyone have a problem with that decision?” No one did. “All right then, east or west?”

  “How about east?” Kurine said. “The rising sun always brings hope.”

  “How is that?” Turesobei asked.

  “Our sun has faded,” Kurine said. “We always fear that one day it will go out and never rise again.”

  They struck out east, riding along the shore, and found nothing that day. They made camp fifty paces away from the shore as the sun set. Turesobei decided they’d try one more day before giving up and riding out onto sea.

  As they did every night, Turesobei, Lu Bei, and Motekeru stayed outside for one final check before tucking in. Darkness had set in completely, and the night sky overhead was moonless. Thousands of stars twinkled. Turesobei stared up at them, steamy puffs of breaths coming from his mouth.

  “They’re all a bit wrong, the stars,” Turesobei said. “Like ours but a little out of place.”

  “The stars change over time,” Lu Bei replied. “Like the planets and the moons. They just move very, very slowly. I don’t think Satsupan was lying. I think this very well may be a version of our world that’s in the far future. Though I can’t explain the whole crossing the barrier into oblivion aspect, or how a copy of one section of our world could be moved and put into another place.”

  Motekeru stomped away, making a big circuit around the camp. Lu Bei circled overhead. His eyes were good in the dark. Turesobei knelt and cast the sensing spell one more time. He was doing it so much, three or four times every day, that it was becoming routine. Several dozen presences immediately sparked in his mind: coming up from the sea and heading toward them fast. He leapt to his feet.

  “We’ve got incoming!
Motekeru, guard the mounts. Lu Bei, they’re coming from the sea. Keep watch.”

  Turesobei turned to warn the others, but they were already rushing out of the snow houses.

  “What is it?” Iniru asked.

  “Kagi of some sort. Haven’t encountered them before. Should we crowd into a snow house and block the entrance? Or should we run? They’re moving fast.”

  “If we block ourselves in, we’ll lose our sonoke,” Narbenu replied.

  “I can guard them, master,” Motekeru called out.

  “Risky,” Iniru said. “You’re not invulnerable, big guy.”

  “My flames will scare off whatever they are.”

  Turesobei still had his sensing active. He focused and searched out for the creatures again, so he could count how many there were, but the creatures were gone.

  “They’ve vanished! Lu Bei, do you see anything?”

  As he continued to circle overhead, Lu Bei shouted down. “Nothing, master.”

  “How could they vanish?” Enashoma said.

  Narbenu glanced everywhere. “I can’t think of anything. We should stay on our guard. Better yet, let’s move on. Can you do the mirrors?”

  “I’ll do them gladly. Everyone get your gear and mounts. Let’s get out of here.”

  Kemsu darted into the boys’ snow house. “I’ll get the blankets and pack our supplies while you all get the mounts ready.”

  “I’ll do the same,” Kurine offered, and she ducked inside the girls’ snow house.

  Turesobei pushed the sensing spell back, reducing its strength temporarily, while he cast the spell of the moon mirrors. As soon as the mirrors were active, he picked up the kagi again. Coming in fast, and they were almost right on top of them. But that didn’t make any sense, because they hadn’t spotted them. Were the kagi invisible? The beasts had disappeared from his sensing, and then —

  He looked down at his feet.

  “They’re coming up from underneath us!” he shouted. “They went too deep for me to detect, and now they’re —”

  From inside the girls’ snow house, Kurine screamed.