Five Kingdoms

by T. A. Miles

  “I feel that Vorhaven was able to draw a thread of your knowledge of and belief in your legends from your spirit,” Shirisae continued. “I observed the presence of men and women with Fanese traits and clothing in the room Tristus and I had come to.”

  “Vorhaven also used your likeness to affect us,” Tristus added. “However, the illusion behaved very unlike you…both in my account and Shirisae’s. It was as seeing you precisely wrong, but in two different directions.”

  Xu Liang accepted the information with a nod. “Since Vilciel, I have also experienced many visions. However, unlike the untruth of Vorhaven’s illusions—meant to deter and deceive each of you in one way or another—I have been shown the possibilities of the future from the realities of the past.”

  “It is the clarity of the Phoenix,” Shirisae said at once, though not with the typical assurances and arrogance that often accompanied her words on the matter.

  Xu Liang allowed the statement to linger in the open before setting it aside with his response. “I have come to accept that.”

  Alere disliked the imposition of Shirisae’s religion and of the Phoenix onto Xu Liang’s spirit. It seemed a god, and the gods did as they liked, but it also seemed that the fire elves gave it access to unwilling hosts.

  “Where would the elder have gone in such a place as this?” Tristus wondered.

  “If there’s through access to the sea, he might be headed in that direction,” Xu Liang offered.

  “How far away?” Shirisae asked.

  “It would be a lengthy journey for him, or anyone, to make on foot. Days, at least. I would sooner anticipate that there is another access to the surface, which he plans to take or has already taken.”

  “Isn’t it also possible that he’s laid traps along the way?” Alere asked, rising off his rock now.

  “It is probable,” Xu Liang replied. “We must be on our guard.”

  The underground grew deeper and yet somehow more confined while they walked. Their careful pace provided ample time to notice the scarcely changing detail of rough walls and uneven—at times broken—floor. The entirety of it was dusted with sheets of loose rock and sand that had likely been displaced by the movement of a very large, somehow hidden creature. The lack of growth…perhaps the lack of collection of growth of either mildew, fungus—even of rock formations—made it apparent that the passages were frequently disturbed. Perhaps, Xu Liang was right. Maybe the tremors felt by residents of the city were indeed the movements of a dragon, tucked below the surface. It occurred to Tristus that if there was some route toward the sea, that maybe the dragon utilized it. It was possible that the beast fed on fish or even gulls that may have been inhabiting the potentially rocky shores. Considering such details helped Tristus to realize that it was only a very large animal.

  Unfortunately, the realization didn’t carry as far as he hoped, since the giant sleeping upon the Flatlands was only a very large person.

  A small dread wound itself at the center of Tristus’ stomach while he helplessly reminded himself how much of a challenge the ice giant had been, and to all of them. They had all very nearly died. And the Swords…

  Tristus shook away memories of being within the dome of Pearl Moon while the giant beat upon it.

  “What’s troubling you?” Alere asked just then.

  “Something I refuse to believe isn’t troubling you,” Tristus answered.

  “I’m troubled by it,” Alere told him.

  His tone inspired the slightest of smiles—all that Tristus could muster under the circumstances. “You show it very differently.”

  “You show it very actively.” As if to punctuate his statement, Alere gave a look over his shoulder at Tristus.

  The elf was rather unbelievable, and in his way quite charming to Tristus. “Have you never learned mercy?”

  “I found it a useless lesson,” Alere replied.

  Tristus had heard enough. “I find you unbelievable, and by that I mean that I don’t believe you.”

  “Quiet lads,” Tarfan advised from just in front of them. “Let’s not rouse anything out of its nest prematurely. I think the soldiers have spotted something.”

  Tristus looked toward Guang Ci and Jiao Ren when the dwarf nodded in their direction. Somehow, the pair of them had managed to take the lead after their initial formation dwindled. There had been no need to keep it quite so tightly once they’d entered the caves. Room was not something the space lacked.

  The champion of the Sun Blade and bearer of the Night Blade were slowed at what appeared to be a crossing. Xu Liang moved ahead to see what the matter was. Tristus began to realize at that moment how beneficial it would be for all of them to have the same language. He was not opposed to the journey of learning Fanese, but he imagined it would take a considerable amount of time to manage useful conversation with anyone.

  A curious silence seemed to settle while they waited. The low voices of their Fanese hosts became a backdrop to a peculiar lack of sound. It was within those moments that Tarfan began to shift nervously from one foot to the other. Tristus looked across at Alere, who looked at him in return, confirming without words that something was amiss.

  The sensation of movement radiated through Tristus’ heels. Looking down, he noticed some of the loose earth sifting over and around the heavier rocks. He gave another glance in Alere’s direction. The elf appeared to be bracing himself and so Tristus reset his feet as well, firming his grip around Dawnfire in the moment the spear began to glow richly. The sudden light was dense enough to nearly have a texture, as if it were a flame. Tristus turned his gaze from the brightness at the center of its glow and noticed the Dawn Blade was not alone. The twilight glow of Aerkiren seeped across the space between them, and strands of the Storm Blade’s greening silver radiance stirred forward, whispering energetically. Ahead of them the three remaining Swords formed a quagmire of color—brilliant blue staining across an inky cloud, striated with golden rivulets of sunlight. It took Tristus’ breath from him, leaving him none to spare for the thunderous roll of shifting rock that shook the cave next.

  Xu Liang was quick to raise Pearl Moon and cast its shield overhead. With the combined grace of the Phoenix, what tended to be a dome unfurled above all of the bearers like the letting out of a great cloak of protection. Rocks rained upon the silver-edged blue, tumbling in a succession of rippling energy while they were redirected toward other areas of the corridor. Shirisae was fascinated by the transformation underway—the manner in which the Phoenix had been gradually integrating itself into the facets of Xu Liang and his magic. It made her aware of how ignorant she had been about her own god, even as heiress to its power. She suspected there was much of the greater cycle of the Phoenix that her mother had not revealed to her, perhaps because she had not been ready. Her ignorance had caused her to leap to conclusions and judgments that were in these moments being deconstructed.

  The shriek of the Phoenix filled the back of her mind, and it was then that the Dragon appeared. The sharply formed head of the beast lowered into view, dark amber eyes as smoldering torches in the surrounding shadow of the intersecting corridors. With breath like the roll of distant thunder, it looked upon the forms standing protected beneath it. The blue glow of the Moon Blade reflected off its deeply black scales, casting streaks of purple over its neck and chest. The intensity of its darkness was reminiscent of the Night Blade, the weapon Malek Vorhaven had coveted and which the keirveshen had gathered around. Was this gargantuan beast also one of the shadow folk?

  As if in answer to Shirisae’s silent question, the dragon drew back its elongated head and then thrust forward with a piercing bellow that reeled waves of force into the air. It formed a seam across the surface of the Moon Blade’s shield, like a lance hurtled across water. The magic sprayed outward and around the physical shape of the dragon’s cry, and, again, like water, it quickly refilled the line that had been cut
through it.

  Shirisae presumed the shield had protected them from the full force of the sound, though it was still an assault on the ears and mind to bear witness to. She imagined one struck by the force and pitch of the dragon’s breath would be badly injured, if not killed. She was not afraid, so long as the protection of the Phoenix hovered over her. She was not afraid for the mystic either, for this was not the same man who had stood with only the power of himself to contribute to his sword’s magic. This was D’Jenti, the living incarnation of the Phoenix in its rising phase.

  The dragon seemed to recognize the futility of continuing to strike. It withdrew itself from the passage opening and rushed forward in a terrible yet surreal commotion of sound and movement. Black limbs dragged its tremendous form across the cave entrance in a manner that was indeed like a bat, yet the musculature illustrated by the light of the Moon Blade bore the form and texture of a great lizard. The wings were folded as it maneuvered, tucked like a collection of dark sails taken from the masts of ghost ships on the seas of oblivion.

  Its speed was incredible, and it took only moments to relocate its massive body from where it had evidently been tucked in sleep or hiding. In its wake, the earth continued to shudder.

  Shirisae hurried forward, toward Xu Liang. The mystic maintained their protection, and when she arrived near him, he angled his head, enough for her to see that his eyes shone with the color of the Moon Blade. His expression remained his own, but she could see the fortification of the Flame behind it. She required no further confirmation as to what had transpired since the resurrection ritual, and what her mother had withheld from her.

  “The dragon is coming back,” he said to her. “We must not face it here.”

  That was all the inspiration she needed to act. She turned from him and took quick steps toward Tristus, Alere, and Tarfan. “We have to return to the surface. Now.”

  Behind her, she could hear Xu Liang relaying orders to his fellows in Fanese. Alere, Tristus, and Tarfan were already turning around when the sounds of Guang Ci and Jiao Ren’s footsteps came. Shirisae took only a few steps with the others before turning back to Xu Liang. The mystic had pulled the shield forward, facing it against the mouth of the corridor, which disgorged boulders and chunks of earth against it. With nowhere to go, the rocks piled into a wall. It would likely not delay the dragon long, but perhaps long enough.

  “Xu Liang!” she called, when it seemed the mouth was sufficiently blocked.

  The mystic took steps back while debris continued to fall, withdrawing when the heaviest pieces seemed to be done. A rain of gravel clattered against the floor, but it was neither heavy nor consistent enough to do much harm to anyone. Xu Liang moved quickly toward her and she found herself again holding her hand out to him. Their hands met only briefly. Xu Liang’s hold transferred to her arm instead while he ensured that she fully turned to run after the others.

  Just ahead of them, Tarfan and Tristus were already on the slope leading up, the knight and dwarf helping each other to keep their footing. Alere followed with Jiao Ren not far behind. Guang Ci waited at the base of the slope to receive his master, who ushered Shirisae toward the incline ahead of him.

  At the far end of the corridor, the earth erupted with force. A tide of shadow rushed in.

  Emergence of Chaos

  It was indeed a dragon. It had been a dragon the entire time, moving the earth beneath the city. The traps set in the temple had merely been a deception, Jiao Ren felt. All along, Han Quan had been luring the Empress to a trap, one that would bring down the Imperial City.

  He urged the outsiders ahead of him to hurry. Though they would not understand the words, the tone would be clear. They could not be caught in the tunnel or within the temple when the beast emerged. As well, he wanted at least a moment to brace the troops for what was coming. He would rely on Xu Liang’s experience and wisdom to devise a strategy, though it could only be a hasty one. A living siege ram verged on coming through the floor of Jianfeng. Both the city and the Empress would have to be protected. He prayed to the ancestors that the spear in his hands would be enough.

  Tristus put a hand out to steady Tarfan while the dwarf scrambled with tremendous haste back to the surface of the temple. Once the dwarf was safely out and moving toward the exit as fast as his stout legs would carry him, Tristus turned to offer a hand up to the next body. Alere accepted and hopped easily onto the broken floor. They stood on opposite sides of the hole and offered assistance to Jiao Ren, who emerged speaking words in his own language, which were passed over his shoulder to Guang Ci, and ultimately down to Xu Liang. The young general hurried from the inner chamber afterward and Tristus and Alere exchanged the merest glances while in the process of ushering Guang Ci from the pit. Shirisae followed with Xu Liang last. The quick succession of hands drawing allies out felt like a first success in the battle to come, no matter how small. The circumstances precluded him from reveling in it.

  “Leave the temple,” Xu Liang instructed. “Quickly.”

  No one delayed action.

  The floor shook beneath their feet. A single, jarring crash threw them from it. Alere dropped and slid to avoid falling outright. Shirisae leaped over him with all the grace of a doe, while Tristus was simply thrown forward. He curled in flight and tumbled against the jade wall, which Xu Liang had managed to avoid altogether. Looking, Tristus noticed the mystic had avoided being thrown at all by casting a spell that allowed him to take several steps over the air itself. In the instants it was happening, it appeared that Xu Liang had manifested an invisible bridge, which arced neatly over the disrupted floor, as well as both Tristus and Alere. The mystic stepped down on the other side of the wrought partition beside Shirisae, and gave his hand to Tristus while Shirisae assisted Alere. Tristus took the mystic’s hand, and felt an unexpected strength in his grip that dismissed any notions that he might harm Xu Liang or drag him down with his own weight. It filled him with optimism, as did the fact that Alere did not blatantly refuse or avoid Shirisae’s efforts to ensure he was able to stay on his feet while the floor continued to quake.

  With all of them unharmed, they continued toward the temple doors. Behind them, the floor was careened into again, and there came an alarming sensation of success on the dragon’s part with the sounds of cleaving stone and heavier impacts following. The beast was breaking through. Tristus anticipated it crawling swiftly after them, perhaps accosting them again with its disruptive wailing, only this time there would be no shield from Pearl Moon. He imagined that their bodies would be utterly wrent by such an attack. He determined not to look back, only to run with his companions.

  The doors were open and waiting for them. Guang Ci had only just passed through. The rest of them followed. On the stone walk, Tristus did look over his shoulder. There was only falling debris behind them, and a terrible rending noise, accompanied by a great shadow.

  Someone shouted in Fanese, and everyone began to duck down. Tristus did as well, on sheer instinct. Wood, shingles, and other bits of structure plummeted onto the bridge and into the water, disrupting the growth atop it while it scraped and in some places broke off portions of the bridges. The sound of what could have been canvas tearing open against the wind sent a spasm of terror through his body. He knew it was the wings. A gravelly roar of protest followed, and then the ghastly cry.

  A nearby pavilion erupted into mere shreds of its previous form, scattering about the yard. Bodies flew in the wake.

  “Dear God,” Tristus murmured, daring to look up when the shadow over the ruined temple moved.

  The dragon was in the air.

  Xu Liang was crouched down not far away, also watching it. The beast appeared enraged and looked to be making a wide path away from the temple. That in no way meant it would not circle back. Still, in the moments it was distant, the mystic turned back to them, hurriedly instructing them. “Cross the bridges. Gather with Jiao Ren and his men!”


  Tristus nodded, though it went unseen by Xu Liang while the mystic moved to act on his own orders. The four of them hurried away from the sundered temple. Partway across, Guang Ci had been hovering over Tarfan’s crouching form. The guardsman rose and headed for the stone yard when he noticed the rest of them coming.

  Jiao Ren motioned for them to hurry with his free hand. The other had a grip on the Sun Blade which Tristus found familiarly urgent, if not desperate.

  The shadow of the dragon slid across the city, like a storm cloud pushed by the winds of a hurricane. It made a low path, dark wings outstretched. The beast drew back at the neck, mouth opening…

  Tristus planted his feet the moment there was stone beneath them. He started Dawnfire’s spin, raising the weapon up while it formed its disk of gold. The dragon was bearing down, the intensity of its wail beginning. Beside Tristus a great light came into being. It swelled beside him, as if a fire had been struck. In the corner of his view it appeared oddly as a bulb of flame, which blossomed fantastically, seeming to join with the Dawn Blade’s spinning heat. It could almost have seemed that the disk plucked up the bulb—coming, he realized from the Spear of Heaven—and twirled it open. Petals of flame spread outward with the motion, catching the physical force of the dragon’s cry, shooting both it and the combined fires of the Dawn and Sun Blades at the dragon.

  The beast of shadow disliked the assault. It flinched back, adjusting its path to avoid the full force of the fire. Light and smoke plumed off its form, trailing after the great length of its tail as it carried itself upward.

  Tristus had only a moment to glance at Jiao Ren, who seemed somewhat stunned. Tristus reached a hand out and briefly clasped the young general’s arm before moving off to keep the dragon within his sights.