The Blood King’s Apprentice

by David Alastair Hayden

  Kemsu let go of her hands, slouched back, and sighed. “And what if he can’t bring you back?”

  “The boy I love is the one fighting to bring me back?” A jolt of happiness lit her up from within.

  “You—you don’t even remember his name, do you?”

  “I remember that he loves me, and I still love him.” She stood. “That’s all I need to know.”

  “And if—”

  Kurine crossed her arms. “Enough if’s. I’m staying here until he comes for me. If I forget everything, then I forget everything. It’s my choice.”

  Kemsu stood and smiled weakly. “You were always so stubborn. If you need me to stay here with you, I—”

  Kurine hugged him. “You need to go on to the next world. It’s your time—not mine.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Now, let go. Be happy. We’ll meet again someday. And to you it might be no more than the blink of an eye, even if fifty years should pass for me.”

  Kemsu nodded bravely and began to fade. His face brightened. “Oh! It’s so beautiful.”

  Within a heartbeat, he was no more than a wisp of transparent cloud. “Kurine,” he said distantly as he faded away, “Turesobei. His name is Turesobei.”

  Kurine waved goodbye. She understood his passing should be heartbreaking. Her oldest friend had just died. But being so close to death robbed the feeling of loss from her. It was no more than a simple goodbye, as if Kemsu were only going away for a few days.

  “Turesobei,” she said, enunciating every syllable carefully. “Turesobei.” She repeated her name and then his, again and again, as she wandered off. She stopped periodically to write her name in the dust and scribble his with a childish approximation. She didn’t know how to write his correctly. The characters were too complex for her.

  At dusk, she killed three solitary demons that sped toward her, chanting her name and Turesobei’s all the while. She couldn’t forget his name again. She wouldn’t.

  The madman stepped through the mists into view. She understood the demons’ speed now. They were the remnants of a pack he’d hunted down. Her muscles tensed in preparation to run from him, but she didn’t stop chanting Turesobei’s name. The armored man paused, stood upright and saluted her. Then he spun and departed. She shrugged and continued on.

  All that night she maintained her mantra without pause.

  At what amounted to dawn in the Shadowland, a pack of tentacled demons charged her. She readied her war hammer and prepared herself. But before the demons reached her, they all exploded into a cloud of dust.

  She sensed a presence behind her. She spun around to face the strangest woman she had ever seen. She wasn’t goronku, not even close. She was slender and tall with shadow-blue skin, like the sky just before twilight’s end. Her fiery eyes were a deep crimson that was darker than the ruby embedded in her navel. What the stone was, Kurine had no idea, but she could feel the warmth and power of it. The woman’s dress was like smoke and it hid very little. She had oddly long fingernails and fangs that protruded onto her lips. Sparkling vermilion hair fell down her back, like fresh snowfall lit by a bright red sunset.

  Kurine pointed her hammer at the woman and tried not to show she was afraid. Whatever this woman was, she was no demon, yet she was clearly dangerous and powerful. “Who are—”

  A sharp pain lanced deep into the right side of Kurine’s chest. She dropped the war hammer and fell back, gasping. This wasn’t the usual pain that came after a battle. This was something new and terrible. She grasped at her chest, expecting a wound pouring blood, but there was nothing there, just excruciating pain.

  The ruby in the woman’s navel shimmered, and high above, a black cloud blossomed into the shape of a tremendous dragon. Kurine blinked and it was gone. A shiver ran through her, but pain overwhelmed her fear.

  “What…what have you done…to me?”

  “I have not harmed you, child. You were bitten by a demon known as an orugukagi. Its venom almost killed you. I believe your shoulder probably still hurts where it bit you, yes?”

  Kurine nodded. “And this new pain?”

  “You are being cured.”

  “Why does it hurt so bad?”

  “It is, necessarily, a painful cure. The pain will get better in a moment.”

  “Will I wake?”

  “The toxin must first be drawn out of you. Then you must be healed. But that is not a simple thing. The toxin was in you too long. Your organs, and your brain especially, were damaged.”

  “Is that why I have trouble remembering things?”

  “Perhaps. But the Shadowland also steals the memories of those who tarry here in the hope that without memory, their passion will fade. Some, like you, have passion that endures beyond memory.”

  “Love sustained me.” The pain started to subside. “I could have stayed here for years if necessary.”

  The strange woman bared her slender fangs in a pitying smile. “And you would have become like the others stuck here.”

  “What others?”

  “All those demons you fought. Few were trapped here because of love but all of them are here because they clung desperately to the living world out of anger or jealousy or a desperate will to live.”

  “They—they were once people…like me?” Her breath caught and tears formed in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt them! I didn’t know. If I had—”

  “They were human no longer. Do not pity them. You did them a favor. By killing them, you sent them to Oblivion and freed them from their obsessions. You spared them from a pitiful existence. That is a good thing, yes? It is not like you had a choice anyway.”

  Kurine nodded and tried not to think about how many demons, how many lost souls, she must have destroyed.

  The ruby stone in the woman’s navel flashed.

  “Turesobei has one of those,” Kurine said, suddenly remembering. “It’s what lets him do magic.”

  “Your memories are returning. That is good. This is a kavaru stone. It houses my soul. Turesobei and I are much alike. I am Kaiaru and he is…part Kaiaru, you could say. I am also a dragon, and he is part dragon.”

  “Who are you?”

  “I am Lady Hannya. Turesobei freed me from a sword called Fangthorn, which was imprisoned deep below the Forbidden Library.”

  “So he made it to the Library,” Kurine said with delight. “Did he make it home too?”

  Hannya shook her head. “With my help, Turesobei left the Ancient Cold and Deep and entered the Nexus of the Realms. That is but the first step. He has a long way to go, and there is much he must learn and many dangerous things he must do before he can go home.”

  “Then why are you here?” Kurine asked. “Have you come to guide me back to the world of the living?”

  “In a manner of speaking. My master, the Blood King, is healing you. No one else could have repaired the extensive internal damage you suffered. In that you are fortunate. However, there is a terrible price you must pay, Kurine of Aikora. Otherwise, it is highly unlikely your beloved Turesobei and his companions will have even the slightest chance of returning to the home they know and love.”

  “Then name your price. I will do whatever I must to help Turesobei. I didn’t fight off all these demons for nothing.”

  “Understand that if you do not do exactly as I instruct, or if you fail to do so—for it will not be easy—then you, your beloved and all his companions will suffer a fate worse than death.”

  “I understand.”

  “What I am going to tell you, it is essential that it remain secret. You can tell no one, not even Turesobei—especially not Turesobei.”

  Kurine scowled. “I don’t keep secrets from those I love.”

  “You must keep this one.”

  “Why?”

  “You will understand once you know.”

  “He will want to know what you said to me….”

  “He will not, because he does not know that I am here. No one knows, for I am not actually here. This is just a…let’s cal
l it a memory…that has been stored, for a short while, in a blade that has—” she smirked devilishly “—grown quite attached to you.”

  “I have no reason to trust you.”

  “Nor should you, but once I tell you the price you must pay and why, you will understand, and you will agree to do exactly what I say.”

  Kurine nodded. “Okay, then tell me.”

  Lady Hannya touched two fingers to Kurine’s forehead. “I will hide the knowledge deep within your mind. You will not remember until you have recovered completely.”

  Scarlet light flashed and Kurine’s brain swirled as Hannya told her all she needed to know. Only she couldn’t make out any of the words. It was all gibberish.

  Hannya disappeared and the bleak landscape of the Shadowland vanished.

  There was darkness.

  And then Kurine woke up.

  Chapter One

  A Few Minutes Earlier

  Heart hammering, bile rising into his throat, Turesobei choked back his fear and tried to stay calm. He wanted to run. He desperately wanted to do something, anything, but he couldn’t make himself move. It was hard enough just to breathe. He felt like a tiny, insignificant fly trapped in amber.

  He stood, alongside his companions, in a long, rectangular room with cedar walls and polished floors. Lacquered columns held aloft a spectacular ceiling of crisscrossing beams from which hung blazing lanterns. Smoke issued from incense burners and filled the room with the scents of jasmine and sandalwood. At the end of the chamber, a staircase led up to a high dais crowned with a throne of jade.

  On this throne slumped a Kaiaru with sea-dark hair and skin the pale color of fog. He wore an undecorated gray robe, belted at the waist, as if he were a simple monk. Though a Kaiaru should be bound to one stone, one soul, this Kaiaru somehow had nine kavaru stones embedded into his skin. The robe hid all but the one on his forehead and the two on his hands. But Turesobei knew the others were there and could feel their presence. The Kaiaru’s eyes were closed, but his chest heaved up and down with regular breaths.

  Hannya, the Earth Dragon in human form, had told them there was something they must see and led them here. She knelt. “Blood King of the Nine Realms, I beseech you, awake and rise again!”

  “No!” Turesobei shouted.

  Eyes alight with blue-white flame opened. Their color turned to orange with specks of gold then a fiery, flickering vermilion. A sinister laugh rumbled from parched lips. The laugh died and his eyes shifted to a soft green.

  “Hannya, my sweet betrayer,” the Blood King drawled in a deep, languid voice. “I knew one day you would return. Your spirit may be rebellious, but your love for me endured, as I knew it would.”

  “My love…my king,” Hannya said. “Forgive me. I was rash and foolish. I should have trusted you. I should never have aided the Shogakami. It was a mistake for which I suffered, for fifteen thousand years, trapped in that blade.” She pointed to the rune-carved, dark-steel sword called Fangthorn, which was in Iniru’s hands. “Know that I never stopped loving you. And now that we are together again, I shall make everything right.”

  Turesobei’s companions looked to him, their eyes wide with fear. He knew he should act, but he was stunned by Hannya’s betrayal and didn’t know what to do.

  In the depths below the Forbidden Library, Turesobei had experienced Hannya’s devastation after the Blood King abandoned her. The visions of those events had almost killed him. And based on all he had seen, this didn’t make sense. How could she do this? The Hannya whose life he had experienced would never willingly return to the Blood King. But the thousands of years trapped alone in the sword had nearly driven Hannya mad. She didn’t have to make sense anymore. And with Naruwakiru dead, Hannya could pretend, or perhaps forget, that the Blood King had betrayed her.

  The Blood King leaned forward in his throne. His eyes shifted to the palest blue. “And how, my sweet betrayer, will you make everything right? Even if you could open the way out of the Nexus, I could not follow you out. Your power added to mine is not enough for me to break free of this prison.”

  Hannya swept an arm toward Turesobei. “Ah, but I have brought a powerful gift.”

  The Blood King’s face twisted into a curious expression and he stroked his narrow chin. With yellow, cat-like eyes, he glanced at each of them, starting with Turesobei.

  His eyes settled on Iniru.

  “I see a k’chasan girl, a qengai assassin by the looks of her, a follower of that idiot Notasami and his book of prophecies. I doubt she has stained her blades more than twice. What is your name, girl?”

  Iniru’s nostrils flared, the tips of her ears turned down and her red-brown fur stood slightly on end. Turesobei knew well the signs of her anger, even if he rarely understood what triggered it. In this case, though, it was obvious. Iniru had devoted her life to the prophecies in Notasami’s Codex. How the Blood King had figured out she was a qengai, he had no idea. Like Turesobei and the others, she was still dressed in a thick coat of sonoke fur with no sign of her uniform.

  “Iniru of Yasei-maka,” she hissed.

  The Blood King shrugged. “I have no use for an assassin.” His eyes went next to Rig and Ohma, the two amber-pelted hounds that had belonged to Turesobei’s ancestor, Chonda Lu. The hounds had magically appeared along with Motekeru minutes before Turesobei fought the Deadly Twelve. The Blood King’s eyes shifted to emerald and his voice shifted to one of soft tones and curiosity. “Dogs preserved centuries by magic? Interesting, but also useless.”

  His eyes returned to yellow and fell onto Motekeru, a mechanical marvel with the soul of one of Chonda Lu’s enemies enslaved inside. Motekeru had a body of petrified oak, reinforced with bronze plates on his forearms, shins, thighs and chest. He had a tail of bamboo cable with a spiked ball on the end. His entire head was bronze, with a jagged, crudely-cut mouth that was eternally locked in the same terrible expression. Continuously blazing with amber energy, his misshapen eyes were slanted and curled up on the ends. His joints and the long claws that could extend and retract from his hands were made of steel.

  “Now that is most intriguing.” The Blood King’s eyes changed to scarlet and his voice quaked as if were restraining a deep anger. “The craftsmanship is astounding.” He gripped the arms of his throne. “You are Motekeru, yes?”

  Motekeru didn’t reply.

  “Is it true that you can breathe fire?”

  Motekeru still wouldn’t answer. It was true that he could but he didn’t currently have enough power to do so, having used it all up fighting the yomon. It didn’t surprise Turesobei that the Blood King had heard of Motekeru.

  “Well, you are a true marvel,” the Blood King said, eyes flickering between scarlet and emerald, between restrained anger and curiosity. “I am the world’s greatest sorcerer, yet even I have no idea how you were made.”

  “World’s greatest sorcerer? Hah!” Lu Bei, who had been hiding behind Turesobei, darted forward and pointed at the Blood King. “You are nothing compared to Master.”

  Turesobei cringed. Perfect, the fetch was antagonizing the deadliest being in the world. But the Blood King wasn’t angry. His eyes turned to a dazzling violet as he smiled and almost laughed.

  “Chonda Lu’s flying book! I am surprised to see you here, though I guess I should not be, given the legendary Motekeru’s presence. Have you put on weight? You do appear to have grown.”

  Lu Bei was a lot more than a flying book. He had two forms. In his natural state, he was a diary with a polished leather cover, bound with silver wire and embossed with strange runes. In his fetch form, he had amber skin that matched Turesobei’s kavaru and bat wings of a darker shade. He was as big as a house cat, but only because he had grown after absorbing storm energy when Turesobei had destroyed the Storm Dragon’s Heart. That’s why Lu Bei had the Mark of the Storm Dragon on his chest: a lightning bolt spiking through a storm cloud in a circle of black, matching the same symbol on Turesobei’s cheek.

  Lu Bei narrowed his sol
id black eyes and exposed his tiny fangs in a grin. “You may not be surprised to see me, but I am surprised to see you…all nine of you.”

  Everyone turned toward Lu Bei.

  “Ooloolarra didn’t tell us exactly who you are, which means she didn’t know, which probably means no one knows anymore. Well, except for me.”

  “I know,” Motekeru said. “I killed several of him.”

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Lu Bei said. “Silly me. You did kill several of him, didn’t you, big guy?” Lu Bei smiled innocently at the Blood King. “Nice try pretending you’d never met Motekeru before. Did you really think we could have forgotten you?”

  Chapter Two

  The stunned, wide-eyed expression on Hannya’s face was clear. Lu Bei’s revelation was news to the Blood King’s former lover and chief lieutenant.

  “You are not one of the Council of Nine, but you have all of their lost kavaru,” Lu Bei said. “So who are you? Or perhaps I should ask: what are you?”

  The Blood King didn't reply, but his eyes burned scarlet and the veins in his neck and forehead swelled and throbbed.

  “I searched a long time for those kavaru,” Motekeru said, with a hint of irritation in his voice. “We never guessed you would sail off into unknown waters.”

  “A clever escape,” Lu Bei said. “But only because he lucked out and discovered Okoro.”

  “I knew exactly where I was sailing,” the Blood King said.

  Confusion rippled across Lu Bei’s face. “No one in Tengba Ren knew this land was here.”

  “Obviously I knew,” the Blood King said.

  “How?” Lu Bei asked.

  “I do not wish to share that knowledge with you.”

  “Fine then, but just know that your Kaiaru names are not so secret.” Lu Bei splayed out nine of his ten fingers and then touched one. “Let’s see, the first member of the Council was—” Lu Bei continued to move his lips but no sound came forth. After a few moments, he huffed. “Oh, bother. Big guy?”