by Will Wight
But he’d been the one to promise that disciple a duel in the first place. Jai Long was glad he didn’t work for the Arelius; that family must treat its disciples lives as tinder for the fire.
Thanks to Jai Long and Gokren, the Jai clan had been forced to lighten its grip on its enemies. Jai Lowgolds had a curfew now, and the clan had distributed valuable communication constructs to carry word of any suspicious sightings. Most of the clan had retreated to the very peak of Shiryu Mountain, living as close to their Underlord as possible, and a Highgold had been assigned to every house.
Not that it would do them any good. Jai Long had broken through to Truegold weeks ago.
At this point, draining Lowgolds of their Remnants did virtually nothing but replenish his core. Only Highgolds or better would help him advance, and Truegolds were the best.
Which was why he was here, crouching on the roof of one of the Jai clan’s lesser palaces, waiting for the first Truegold patrol of the night. The sun was dropping behind the mountain, casting long shadows over Serpent’s Grave, so it would be harder to see now than in the middle of the night.
Ordinarily, the streets outside the Jai clan homes would be packed at sunset, but the curfew required everyone except designated clan guards to be inside a safehouse before dark. None of the palaces in this district were secure, so they would be empty. Defended only by a Truegold at the beginning of a long patrol.
He gripped the case for the Ancestor’s Spear. There would only be one opponent this time, so no need to capture a Remnant—he could drain the elder dry right there on the street. No witnesses.
Gokren and two Sandviper Highgolds waited nearby, ready to provide backup if Jai Long encountered any difficulty. He was powerful enough now to rank in the top twenty or thirty of the Jai clan, but a true elder had been practicing the sacred arts since long before Jai Long was born. Who knew what crafty tricks they might have prepared.
As Jai Long slowly cycled, keeping his spirit calm, he felt it: the approaching force of a Truegold soul.
He hadn’t needed to scan the target directly to confirm that it was a Truegold, because they weren’t bothering to hide their power. There was a slightly muffled feel to it, as though they’d tried to veil themselves but had given up halfway. Maybe it wasn’t intentional; nerves could interfere with cycling. Perhaps they feared the attacker in the shadows.
If that was true, they would try to flee and sound the alarm rather than doing battle. Jai Long would have to strike so hard that they never had the chance to shout.
A white-clad figure with pale hair strode by beneath him, hands clasped behind the back. Through the shadows, Jai Long couldn’t make out if it was a man or a woman, but the force of a Truegold radiated from them.
Jai Long leaped off the building, Ancestor’s Spear shining in his grip. Stellar Spear madra ran through his muscles and bones, Enforcing him for the landing, bracing his body for the strike.
The Flowing Starlight technique settled in as he fell, until the wind seemed to whip past for long breaths of time. The white-haired head tilted, and Jai Long prepared himself for impact.
Then dark eyes swiveled up to meet him, showing no surprise.
An invisible fist gripped Jai Long’s heart and squeezed.
Jai Daishou, Underlord of the Jai clan, took a single step to the side and let his rebellious descendant crash to the ground.
Less than half a year had passed since Jai Long arrived in Serpent’s Grave; he’d expected to have months more before Jai Daishou personally acted. By then, he would have had more leverage.
He’d underestimated the Underlord’s insight, or overestimated his pride. Either way, the bill had come due long before Jai Long was prepared to pay.
Just like that, his revenge was over.
The impact of landing shocked Jai Long’s entire body, rattling his bones, and the bricks of the street cracked beneath him. The pure white shaft of his spear was driven two feet into the ground, and he’d landed in a crouch.
But slamming into the earth was nothing compared to the force of seeing Jai Daishou here, staring at him with the icy strength born from a hundred years of absolute rule.
A corrosive Truegold aura moved closer: Sandviper Gokren. He would have heard the crash, sensed the flare of Jai Long’s madra, and known that the trap was triggered. He’d never seen the Jai Underlord before; he would assume that Jai Daishou was just a Jai elder who had gotten the better of Jai Long.
He would try to help.
Jai Long’s stomach twisted, but he forced himself to meet the Underlord’s eyes. “This humble junior greets the Patriarch,” he said, his voice firm. He might have been about to die, but at least he didn’t have to show fear.
Jai Daishou turned to regard him head-on, his wrinkled face a mask, and Jai Long could no longer suppress his body's trembling. The old man's gaze was placid, like a frozen lake, but Jai Long shook as though he stared down a hungry dragon.
“You have killed sacred artists of your own clan,” the Patriarch said. “For quite some time now.” His tone remained neutral.
“Let the punishment fall on me alone,” Jai Long said, through clenched teeth and a burning throat. The words tasted bitter; he longed to spit defiance and die trying to shove his spear into the Patriarch's heart.
But if the Underlord had known about Jai Long’s activities, it was best to assume he knew everything. Including Jai Chen’s presence in the city.
If the Underlord grew too irritated, he could wipe her out with a motion of his hand.
There was nothing Jai Long could do to prevent his own execution, but if he had to bow and scrape with his last breath to save his sister, he would shame himself a thousand times over.
Jai Daishou nodded. “Humility is a virtue, when you face a stronger force. I am pleased to know you've learned to swallow your pride.” One slow, shuffling step at a time, he made his way over to Jai Long. The pressure built with every step, until he stood only a foot away. It was like being within arm's reach of an earthquake.
The Patriarch extended one hand and waited.
Jai Long knew what he wanted, so he forced his pride to bend even further. As though it weighed a thousand pounds, he slowly extracted the Ancestor's Spear from the earth and held it out, presenting it with both hands.
The Underlord lifted it with a more pleasant expression than Jai Long had ever seen on his aged face. He held it in one hand and ran the other over the weapon, feeling the script. The spearhead looped in one slow arc, tracing a line of white in the air, as Jai Daishou closed his eyes and savored the sensation.
“I have your sister already,” Jai Daishou said, eyes still closed, and Jai Long’s heart crumbled to ash and blew away. “My men picked her up hours ago. I had intended to use her life to stop you from throwing your life away in a suicidal charge, but you have at least a spark of wisdom.”
He had known it was a mistake to take her out of the Desolate Wilds. He had known it, but where could he have left her? Where could an Underlord not reach?
Jai Long prostrated himself, scraping his cloth mask against the sandy bricks. “She knew nothing of my actions. Please.”
“You have cost me twenty-three Lowgolds, eight Highgolds, and three Truegolds. So far. More importantly, you forced me to stop my actions against Eithan Arelius, which has given a servant family the opportunity to surpass our rank and join the great clans of the Empire.”
Madra flared like the rising sun, and Jai Long jerked his head from the tiles in time to see Jai Daishou disappear in a flash of white.
An instant later, he was back, holding Gokren from the back of a fur-lined collar. The Sandviper’s gray hair was mussed, and his left leg looked broken. He tried to choke out a word, but the Jai Underlord released him, and he collapsed in a heap on the ground.
“You will repay me everything I have lost,” the Underlord said, and Jai Long knew neither he nor Gokren were escaping with their lives. He owed the Jai clan three Truegolds, and here were two, ripe to b
e plucked.
But Jai Chen still had a chance to survive.
Jai Long lowered himself to beg again, but the Patriarch held up the Ancestor’s Spear like a scepter. He regarded the weapon, lips pursed as though he’d bit into a lemon. “Regrettably, I do not have much time remaining. Five years at most, they tell me. And in the entire clan, I have found no one else who can replace me in that short span of time.”
Jai Long's breath came faster. He'd known the Patriarch was reaching the end of his lifespan, but if he said five years, that meant it was more likely two or three. The old man had always been one to exaggerate facts for his benefit.
“Even with the spear?” Jai Long asked politely. For his sister’s sake, he resisted the urge to laugh in the Underlord's face. There were hundreds of thousands of loyal Jai clan members, and he couldn't find one among them who measured up to Jai Long.
He hoped the regret burned.
“The spear is a wonderful tool, but a tool is all it is. Advancing to Underlord requires an element of insight, of inspiration, that no weapon can provide. Increasing and purifying your madra will take you to the limits of Gold, but no further.”
The old man spun the spear at minimum speed, agonizingly slow, but every motion fluid and perfect. Centuries of training engraved their habits deeply.
Neither Gokren nor Jai Long made a single sound between them. Every second he wasted was another breath for them to live.
“If any of my elders could replace me as Underlord, they would have already,” Jai Daishou said as he danced with his spear. “The Ancestor’s Spear will not allow them to bridge that gap. I once had many possible successors, and one by one, they have failed me. So I come back to you…with my help, you could be Underlord in another year.”
A tiny hope joined anger, despair, and humiliation in the war inside Jai Long's heart.
“You will only guard the clan in my absence, of course, you will not succeed it. You are a stopgap measure, a deterrent to keep the jackals at bay until a true heir can be raised from the Path of the Stellar Spear. Swear your soul to my control, utterly and completely, and you are a tool that can be used.”
He came to a stop, swung the spear up to rest on his shoulder, and looked down on Jai Long. Waiting.
“My sister,” Jai Long grated out.
“As the only sibling of our clan guardian, of course she will have access to the very best treatment the Jai can produce.”
Jai Long inclined his head. “On my soul and my power,” Jai Long said, “I swear to take no action against the Jai Patriarch or the Jai clan, to follow the orders of the Jai Patriarch absolutely, and to act always in the best interests of the Jai clan.”
His soul tightened, restricted by his words, but a true oath always had two sides.
Jai Daishou spoke immediately. “In return, I swear on my soul and on my power to protect Jai Long and Jai Chen as my own children, so long as their loyalty remains true.”
This was a flimsy shield, but a shield nonetheless. Far more of a protection than he and Jai Chen had ever had on their own in the wilderness.
All his madra tensed, as though a knot had been tied around his soul, but then the sensation eased. Jai Long let out a breath.
Though a voice in his head cursed him as a coward, he shook with relief. His concern for his sister had drowned out everything else, but he hadn’t wanted to die. At least living as a Jai clan dog would lead to a cure for Jai Chen.
Jai Daishou tucked the Ancestor’s Spear under one arm. “You’ve gotten enough use out of this. It won’t raise any Underlords, but I can always use more Truegolds.” He glanced down at Sandviper Gokren as though regarding something he’d tracked in on the tip of his shoe. “Now then. That was sensitive information you just witnessed.”
A cloud darkened Jai Long’s relief. He had been so focused on the discussion that it hadn’t occurred to him to think about their audience.
The Patriarch crooked his finger, and Jai Long staggered to his side, pulled up by a compulsion so strong it was almost physical. “Underlords may be blessed by the heavens, but we are far from saints. When it becomes necessary, we must dirty our hands.”
The old man clasped his hands behind his back and turned toward the light disappearing over the peak where the sun had died. He said nothing else.
Jai Long gathered his madra and looked down at Gokren. The Sandviper’s skin had paled, and there was fear in his eyes.
Fear and resentment. He had never seen his son avenged.
“Let him swear loyalty,” Jai Long said. It was a stretch of his luck, and Jai Daishou might strike him down for sheer impudence, but he had to try. It was the least he could do for the man who had risked the existence of his sect to follow him here.
The Underlord half-turned and showed Jai Long a cold smile. “Exercise your own judgment and do as you wish. But I will not be burdened by the weight of extra oaths.”
Jai Daishou turned his back again, long metal strands of hair swinging behind him. “But hurry,” he said. “I have a task for you.”
Jai Long spoke before the Patriarch could change his mind. “Sandviper Gokren, I swear on my soul and on my power that I will have you executed…if you repeat a word of anything that happened here today, or betray us to our enemies.”
Gokren brightened, straightening his back. “On my soul and my power, I swear not to divulge a word of your conversation with the Jai Patriarch, nor to provide any information or assistance to your enemies. I offer my life as forfeit.”
The oath tightened, and Jai Long bowed to the Jai Underlord’s back. His role now was to wait for instructions.
“Eithan Arelius’ disciples are challenging the Blackflame Trials,” Jai Daishou said.
Since the fall of the Blackflame family, their Trials had been used to train students from many Paths. Those with the proper access keys could activate the Trials even without Blackflame madra, and the course would challenge any Lowgold, not just one on the Path of Black Flame.
The Naru clan only permitted a handful of disciples to use the Blackflame Trials each year, but the Arelius family kept the course defended and maintained. It made sense that they would have access, though using the Trials without permission sounded unwise.
Most Underlords would never defy the imperial family, but Eithan Arelius…
“The Arelius Patriarch acts on his own whims,” Jai Long said. “Unless…is one of his disciples a descendant of the Blackflames?”
If so, that was truly chilling. A new sacred artist on the Path of Black Flame would be a scandal to shake the Empire.
Jai Daishou turned back and regarded his descendant with scorn. “Certainly not. The only Blackflame they have is that insane turtle, and he’s too old to form a contract. But the truth is bad enough. If Eithan Arelius thinks it is worthwhile to risk Naru displeasure by opening the Blackflame Trials, then he must believe his student has a chance against you.”
Jai Long tried to fit that information into any form that made sense, but failed. Wei Shi Lindon was an Iron. Even if they fed him scales instead of food and elixirs instead of water, they could at best advance him to Jade. If the heavens themselves descended on his behalf, perhaps he could make Lowgold. Jai Long wouldn’t retreat from a duel with ten Lindons.
“I will not risk a future Underlord in a duel that the opponent has any chance of winning,” Jai Daishou said calmly. “That would be an absurd gamble with nothing to gain: you earn us no respect if you win, and endless shame if you lose.” Gokren’s face twisted in rage, but he bottled it up before he got himself killed.
“Patriarch, I am far more than—” Jai Long began, but the Underlord cut him off with a smug smile.
“I have another plan. Recruiting you was my final step, and now we can begin.” He turned to walk away, gesturing for Jai Long to join him.
Confused, Jai Long walked after him, Gokren trailing after.
The Jai clan built their homes in this position on Shiryu Mountain for the view. A curving wall of st
one a hundred feet high blocked the wind and sand from behind them, while Serpent’s Grave stretched out before them, far below. From this high up, you could get a sense of the majesty the dragons had left behind, their skeletons stretching from one end of the city to another. A single skull made up an entire residential district, and looked as big as Jai Long’s hand, even from this distance.
Jai Daishou walked out past the houses, to the edge of the cliff, looking down at the city. The sun had long set behind the mountain, casting darkness over Serpent’s Grave. Cold wind tore at Jai Daishou’s robe and blew between the gaps of Jai Long’s mask.
“It is difficult to deal with an Arelius Underlord,” the Patriarch said. “They see all your hidden weapons, hear all your plans. You can’t make any preparations. You can’t say a word. Only when the Underlord leaves for months at a time, forcing the one other blood member of the Arelius to go after him…then you can make your plans.” He held up a finger.
“But you can’t strike. He has left the city defended in his absence, arranged for countermeasures. Your preparations lie dormant for weeks and months, as you wait until all the pieces to fall naturally into place.”
The full scope of Jai Daishou’s words hit Jai Long like a falling star. The Jai Underlord had collected his family together in safe houses. Not just to protect them from Jai Long, but to gather his fighting power in a way that the Arelius family wouldn’t find suspicious. With the clan’s forces marshaled, there was only one remaining variable: the enemy who had struck at them over the last several months.
Jai Long shivered. He’d been trying to cut off a spider’s legs, only to find himself caught in a web. If he hadn’t surrendered instantly tonight, Jai Daishou would have torn out his heart. The plan was already in motion, with no room for delay.
The Underlord raised his white spear into the sky. “And then, having never spoken a word to alert the watchers…you strike.”