“I’m waiting.”
“I’m sorry,” Kurine muttered.
“Me too,” Iniru said.
Motekeru set them down and stood between them. “Get the muck off you while it’s raining, then go to your rooms.” He noticed everyone staring at him. “I had eight teenage daughters.” He said nothing more and stomped out of the room.
Awasa sighed regretfully and rubbed the bits of plant and gunk off her, using the rain as a shower. The others did the same, though Iniru and Kurine occasionally stopped to glare at one another. Rig and Ohma raced and frolicked around the room. Lu Bei turned back into his fetch form, flew out of Enashoma’s hands and shook himself off.
“You could’ve broken them up,” Enashoma said to him.
Lu Bei whispered, “Sometimes a fight is the best thing.”
“You don’t know anything about girls, do you?”
“I know everything,” Lu Bei said indignantly.
Enashoma rolled her eyes then looked to Turesobei.
“I tried.”
“You failed,” Enashoma said, “and you got me wet.”
The rainstorm petered out. Using a minimal amount of power, Turesobei cast the spell of the fiery wind blast. The effect was similar to standing near a bonfire on a windy day. After a few minutes of being struck by a hot breeze and squeezing water of out of their clothes, they were merely damp. Turesobei released the spell then studied his companions to see if anyone was injured. Fortunately, other than a busted lip, some scratches and quite a few nasty bruises, everyone had fared well.
Zaiporo headed toward the door, but Hannya called him back. She had remained quiet throughout the girls’ scuffle. Turesobei had forgotten she was still in the room.
“Line up. All of you.”
They did so, with Kurine standing at one end of the line and Iniru at the other. Hannya paced up and down the line, glaring at them.
“That was pathetic! If that had been a real fight with Turesobei incapacitated, then he would now be dead. And the nakija-kagi you fought today are a joke compared to the heart stone guardians you will face.”
She clenched her eyes shut and her face creased as she restrained her anger. Then she released a deep breath. “Iniru and Kurine, I do not give a damn if you like each other, but you must learn to work together.”
They nodded meekly.
“As for the rest of you…you must learn to adapt when things go wrong. Zaiporo, a good captain communicates continuously during battle.”
“Yes, Lady Hannya.”
“Turesobei, when your companions lose focus, you must get them back on track.”
He nodded his assent. He had no idea how to refocus his companions. In fact, he seemed to be making it worse.
Hannya sighed heavily, as if a deep weight rested on her shoulders. “My lord will be most displeased with your efforts today. Pray he is in a good mood when I tell him what occurred here.” She walked away but paused in the door leading to the hallway. “Work harder on your teamwork and continue your training. You will be tested again soon.”
Iniru gave Turesobei a sheepish look then hurried away. Kurine moved toward him, noticed his irritation, then rushed out as well. Zaiporo patted Turesobei on the shoulder and departed. Awasa smiled at him then almost chuckled as she walked away. He was glad she found all this amusing.
Lu Bei frowned at his wings distastefully. “So much nasty mud.”
“You look clean,” Enashoma said.
“I don’t feel clean.”
“A good cup of tea might make you feel better,” Enashoma said.
“That most certainly would hit the spot. You are a genius, Lady Shoma. Master, let’s go have tea.”
“You can have your tea,” Turesobei said. “All I care about is getting a bath and forgetting all about what happened.”
“The former is attainable, master. The latter not so much.”
Enashoma started to leave but he caught her sleeve. “Shoma, I love you. I’m sorry for avoiding you and getting mad and taking risks, and—”
She hugged him. “It’s okay. I understand.”
“So that fight….”
“I don’t know what you’re going to do about them.”
“Crap. I was about to ask for advice.”
“I know.” Enashoma shrugged. “Sorry, I haven’t a clue.”
“But you’re a girl. Surely you have some insight.”
She laughed. “I’m not that kind of girl.”
“How would you feel if another girl moved in on Zaiporo?”
“I’d kick his ass, not hers. That’s what I don’t get. If I were them I’d be hitting you instead.”
“Oh, thanks. Very helpful.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck.”
Chapter Fifty-Two
As he climbed the steps to the gate platform, Turesobei braced himself. He expected an orange- or scarlet-eyed Lord Gyoroe to unleash his anger about the training debacle. But he found the emerald-eyed Gyoroe who enjoyed teaching.
Turesobei bowed. “Master.”
“I am disappointed in your companions’ lack of teamwork.”
“Of course, master.”
“The nakija-kagi are nothing compared to what they will face in the realms.”
“I understand, master. We will do better in the future.”
Turesobei expected Gyoroe to say more, but he merely gestured at the platform. Turesobei sat cross-legged and Gyoroe knelt across from him.
It couldn’t be this easy. Gyoroe couldn’t be this relaxed about it. There would have to be hell to pay eventually.
“I’m ready and eager to learn, master.”
“Good. Because this will not be easy.”
For hours, Lord Gyoroe explained the science behind the gates and their construction. After the tenth hour, Turesobei wished he was with the orange-eyed Gyoroe so he could ask to be physically tortured instead. He hardly understood what Gyoroe was saying and didn’t see why he needed to know it.
During the fourteenth mind-numbing hour, when the topic turned to realm creation, Turesobei realized the point. He didn’t need to understand any of this to operate the gates. It was just that Gyoroe hadn’t had anyone new to brag to in centuries, and so few could understand even half as much as Turesobei did.
The lesson continued until well past dawn. By thinking about Iniru and Kurine and frequently pinching his leg, Turesobei managed to stay awake until the lecture ended after twenty-five hours.
“Take the rest of today off from wizardry practice. Let what I have said sink in. Tomorrow, we will begin your training in opening the gates.” Gyoroe stood and drew from his sleeve a scroll. “This is the spell you will need for teleporting between the gates and the heart stone locations within each realm. Begin studying it.”
“Only one spell for all the realms?”
“The final line varies depending on the realm. You will find all eight final lines on the scroll. Memorize it perfectly. You will not have a chance to practice before getting there.”
* * *
Turesobei staggered into his room, collapsed on the sleeping mat and woke to Lu Bei pestering him about eating dinner.
“I’m not going. I’m mentally exhausted and I’ve got more studying to do.”
Lu Bei handed him a steaming bowl of black tea. “Oh no, master. You’ve got to go. Avoiding them will only make things worse. We’ve proven that already.”
“I wasn’t avoiding them.”
“And I don’t have wings.”
“Fine, I’ll go. But for all you know, that might make things worse.”
“You have to try to keep the peace, master.”
Turesobei stepped into the hallway. Awasa stood there waiting for him. She glanced both ways. The coast was clear but she shoved him back into his room.
“Not yet.”
“What?”
“You need to arrive at the Dining Hall after Kurine and Iniru.”
“Why?”
“Because otherwise they will fight o
ver who gets to sit next to you.”
“You think they’d fight over that?”
Awasa nodded. “And if you get one on each side, you’ll be whipping your head around like a weathervane. Also, be careful to give them equal time.”
Turesobei groaned. “When did this all become so difficult?”
Awasa patted him on the cheek. “You were born cute and sweet. You can’t help it.” She sighed. “Oh, how I wish I’d taken advantage of those qualities when they did something for me.”
“It’s so frustrating.”
“You just have to walk on glass with them for now, master. After they calm down, you can find a more pleasant equilibrium.”
“If I thought it’d do any good I’d break up with them. Until we got out of all this mess.”
Awasa and Lu Bei laughed.
“Master, if you had it in you to break up with them, you wouldn't be in this situation to begin with.”
Lu Bei flew out into the hallway.
“Thanks for helping me with this, Awasa.”
“I owe you for all those times I embarrassed you back in Ekaran. And you know, what are friends for?”
Lu Bei darted back in. “They’re both in the Dining Hall, master. You’re good to go.”
Turesobei entered tentatively. Iniru and Kurine were sitting on the same side of the table with Zaiporo and Enashoma in between them. He smiled and said hello to Iniru, then Kurine immediately after.
Awasa walked over between Iniru and Zaiporo. “Make room.”
“Don't we already have more than enough people on this side of the table?” Enashoma asked.
Awasa winked at Turesobei. “Nope.”
He understood. He knelt on the empty side of the table, across from Zaiporo. That put him an equal distance from both Iniru and Kurine. It seemed like he was facing an audience, but that was better than showing preference.
While they waited on their food, Turesobei stared down into his wine bowl. Everyone was quiet. He couldn’t take it anymore. Someone had to say something. He’d hoped Awasa would break the ice, but she seemed to be waiting. It was going to have to be him. Whatever he said would set the tone for the rest of the evening.
“Zaiporo, have you given any thought to tactical plans? We’re going to need a standard deployment strategy along with plans for dealing with masses of enemies, giant monsters and flying creatures. And contingencies in case one of us gets injured or knocked out.”
Zaiporo’s eyes lit up. “I’ve been sketching out some ideas. I was hoping to go over them with you. Because I realized I have no idea what you can do now that you’ve learned new spells.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that. I should’ve been telling you all what I can do now.”
Until the food arrived, Turesobei discussed tactics with Zaiporo, naming off and describing all the new spells he could do now. “It will probably be easier if I make a list for you with a sentence or two about what each spell could do.”
“That would be a big help,” Awasa said. “Maybe the fetch could copy the list for all of us.”
“I can’t write,” Lu Bei said.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Kurine said. “How can a wizard’s assistant not write?”
Lu Bei shrugged. “Master didn’t think I needed to write, I guess.”
“And you can’t learn?” Iniru asked.
“I tried teaching him before we left Ekaran,” Enashoma said. “You might as well try to teach a cat to write. He can’t do it.”
“He’s faking,” Kurine said.
Lu Bei held up a hand. “I swear, madam, that I can’t. Ask Motekeru. He’ll back me up.”
“I can help you make copies, Sobei,” Iniru said eagerly.
Kurine started to reply, but Awasa interrupted her. “I’ll do it. I need to work on my writing skills and I’d like to know the spells better. I may be able to boost some of them using my mudras.”
Turesobei doubted that was true. He appreciated the save, though.
As they ate Kurine, tried several times to make small talk with him, but Awasa interrupted her each time. And whenever Iniru tried to add to the discussion, Awasa did the same to her. Both of them noticed, since Awasa wasn’t subtle with it, and got irritated. But it kept them from arguing, and it was better for them to focus their irritation on Awasa than each other.
Dessert arrived and Turesobei stood up. “I need to go. I have a lot of studying to do.” He said goodnight to them all and hurried away.
As soon as he was in his room, he groaned, “Lu Bei, I can’t keep this up.”
“Things will get better soon, master.”
Turesobei laughed. “The girls, the Blood King or the missions to the realms. One of these things is sure to kill me.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
The next morning, a bright blue-eyed Gyoroe droned on for seven more hours about his genius and the wonders of gate magic. It still barely made sense to Turesobei, and he couldn’t care less about Gyoroe’s accomplishments. He shifted whenever he could and frequently dug his fingernails into his legs to keep himself awake.
Gyoroe’s eyes finally changed to emerald.
“Now I shall begin instructing you on how to operate the gates.”
Turesobei barely restrained a sigh of relief.
“While the energy activations and visionary runes are the same for all of the gates, each requires a different song you must sing. And it must be absolutely perfect.” Gyoroe drew a scroll from his belt and handed it to Turesobei. “These are the runes you will need to envision while singing. Study them tonight.”
Turesobei unfurled the scroll. Stunningly complicated characters with intricate, interweaving lines covered a page divided into thirds. “Please tell me these aren’t three-dimensional.”
“They are not.”
“Why is the page divided into thirds?”
“You must envision the characters within each section simultaneously.”
Turesobei winced. “Each section?! Why didn’t you give me this weeks ago?”
“You can handle characters of this complexity. What is the problem?”
“I can envision each of these in turn easily enough, but not in big groups like this. I have never held more than five characters in my mind at once, and those were simpler than these.”
Gyoroe frowned. “It never occurred to me that you might find that difficult.”
Turesobei rolled up the scroll and tucked it into his belt. “I will start working on it tonight. It may take me a while.”
“I am sure you will master it quickly enough,” Gyoroe said. “Now I shall demonstrate the song for opening the Autumn Gate.”
Gyoroe had a deep, melodious voice. The heavy tune was melancholy and appropriate for the realm Turesobei’s people called the Land Ever Fading. So much power and emotion coursed through the song that Turesobei, with tears welling in his eyes, leaned toward Gyoroe. After only a minute, the song ended. The runes on the gate lit up then flashed. And then…nothing. Whatever the Shogakami had done to neutralize Gyoroe had worked.
“Alas, that is far as I can go.”
Turesobei was breathless. He had never before heard anything so hauntingly beautiful.
“I can’t sing like that. Not even close.”
“Not everyone can sing as well as I can, and that is okay. The important part is to hit all the notes and their subtle intonations perfectly. I am certain you are capable of that.”
“If you say so, master.”
“The impossible part for most would be manifesting the energy required. A human wizard could never wield enough energy to work a gate unless they first used a powerful blood magic ritual.”
“But I can do it because of the Storm Dragon?”
“As well as your own nature,” Gyoroe said. “Efficiency will be key. You do not want to enter a realm exhausted. The more precise your work, the less energy the spell will require from you.”
Gyoroe recited the song for the Autumn Gate. Turesobei repeated the w
ords accurately. Then he worked on the tune itself. He didn’t have any trouble singing it in key and hitting all the notes, but his version was nowhere near as haunting or beautiful as Gyoroe’s had been.
Gyoroe made him repeat it several times then sighed. “That will do for today.”
“Did I not hit all the notes?”
“You are missing the subtle intonations. Given that the song is new for you, I suppose that is understandable. We will work on it further tomorrow. Now we shall move on to channeling the energy.”
Hours passed as Turesobei learned the energy activations required for working the gates. The method was unusual but not difficult.
Gyoroe created a simple proxy spell to simulate activating the gates then summoned a floating bubble the size of Lu Bei. The spell was purposefully inefficient to make Turesobei use more energy than should otherwise be necessary. But if he channeled the energies correctly, in the same fashion required by the gate spells, and used enough force, the bubble would burst. For now, he only had to use a small fraction of the kenja required for opening a gate.
“Give it a try.”
Turesobei channeled the energies and nothing happened.
Gyoroe shook his head sadly. “Again.”
After his fourth failed attempt, orange highlights appeared in the Blood King’s eyes.
“I don’t understand why I’m failing. I’m doing everything correctly. And it’s not that difficult. If I can do the teleportation spell, this should be easy.”
“You are making subtle errors. So either your heart is not in it, or you are afraid.”
“I want to succeed. I want to—”
Lu Bei patted him on the back. “Master, I think you’re trying too hard.”
Turesobei relaxed. “You’re probably right.”
“Being right, that’s my job.”
The Blood King rolled his eyes. “How you put up with this creature I will never understand.”
“I have always been beyond your comprehension,” Lu Bei said with a smile of feigned politeness.
The Blood King’s eyes shifted to scarlet.
Turesobei cursed silently. Why did Lu Bei have to antagonize him?
Surprisingly, the eyes returned to emerald. “I will not let you distract me so that your master gets a break. Continue, apprentice.”
The Blood King’s Apprentice Page 26