by Dante King
“I’ll have to keep an eye on him,” I said.
“My brother can be. . . difficult,” Kumi said. “But thank you for sparing his life.”
“Should have killed him,” Vesma stated plainly as she shot a sideways look at the princess.
“I’m glad you didn’t,” Faryn said. “Otherwise, I would have thought all your lessons had been for nought.”
“It would have been dishonorable?” I asked.
Faryn shook her head. “No. You had every right to take the prince’s life. It was a duel to the death, conducted in a city with such customs.”
“Then why are you glad I didn’t kill him?”
“Because it would likely have caused you to fail in your mission. Tensions between the clan and guild are only increasing. Guildmaster Xilarion sent you here with a purpose, and you have yet to complete it.”
And now I’d just made an enemy of the clan’s prince. My interactions with Labu felt a whole lot like my interactions with Hamon Wysaro. I could handle myself, but if Labu showed any sign of wanting to harm my friends, then I’d be the one to ensure he stopped breathing before he got the chance.
Mission or not.
Well, it seemed like the Seven Realms had changed me. On Earth, I would never have failed a mission for any reason. But things were different now.
Chapter Eleven
The tension in the palace courtyard abated after Labu and his friends vanished down the stairs to the city. Blood ran down my arm, dribbled from my fingers, and peppered the muddy ground beside the pool.
I sheathed the Sundered Heart and clutched my hand to the wound in my shoulder. The pressure of my palm against the injury sent a fresh wave of nauseating pain through me, and I wobbled on my feet. My blood ran from the wound in scarlet rivulets, even with my hand clamped against it.
My head was starting to spin as the exhaustion of the fight and the blood loss took their toll. My knees gave out under me, and I half sat, half slumped onto the ground.
“Well, this is fun,” I muttered as black spots danced across my vision. “Most people have to blow their money on tequila shots to feel light-headed and sick. If I’d known I could do it this way, I could have made a fortune back home. Hot new life-hack—blood loss instead of beer.”
“What are you rambling about?” Faryn asked as she appeared at my side.
“Not sure I could explain. You guys don’t even have memes.”
“Are those some sort of monster?” Kumi asked, sinking to her knees at my other side.
“Yeah,” I said with a grin despite the pain. “They’re a sort of time-sucking vampire.”
“Then, we should fix you up before they get here.” Faryn rummaged in her satchel and pulled herbs from it. “I can clean the wound, stitch it up, and add a salve. But you’re going to need to rest while your body recovers.”
“No rest.” I shook my head and found my drained Vigor pool. “I just need a second.” I channeled along my fresh sap pathways, and Sunlight Ichor flowed from my fingers. The sticky substance oozed over the wound, but the lack of sunlight would mean it would take some time for the wound to heal completely.
“I’ll help,” Kumi said.
She chanted and wove her hands through the air in a complex pattern. Strands of water rose from the pool and shimmered with sunlight and Wild Vigor. Most of her liquid ribbons settled on my shoulder and formed a cool, soothing mass over my flesh. The rest spread out across my body and touched my forehead, chest, belly, and limbs.
The water took on a deep blue glow as Kumi continued to chant. The water seeped into my body, and my aches and pains receded. New energy surged through me.
The wound in my shoulder twitched as torn muscle knitted back together and blood vessels rejoined. I took my hand away in time to see the skin close and take the sap magic with it. Our combined efforts left only the faintest line of a scar. The last of the water ran from me onto the pavestones as the magic faded away.
“How does that feel?” Kumi asked as she rested a gentle hand on my arm.
“Much better,” I said. “Thank you.”
“You should thank the heavenly spirits,” she said. “It’s through their blessing that I have the Wild power.”
I wondered how true that was. Religion played a much larger part of the culture in Qihin than Wysaro City. I was reminded of religious people back on Earth thanking God for the skills and good fortune he had blessed them with. Tolin had once taught me that powerful spirits like Nydarth had their own plane of existence. Did they wander the human plane and turn up from time to time to give people Wild Augmenting power?
“Where’s the best place to thank them?” I asked. “Where’s the center of worship in Qihin City?”
“The Temple of the Deep,” Kumi said.
“Is that the same place where we fought the monsters?” I asked.
“No. That was only a minor shrine. The Temple of the Deep is far larger and contains many holy relics. It’s where the priests honor the arcane heart of the Vigorous Zone and where the influence of the divine court is most strongly felt.”
“Then that’s where I’ll go,” I said.
I had a mission to complete, but I’d earned a little R&R, even if it would only be for a few hours. Besides, I was curious to see how the religion of the city worked. It clearly played a more important part here than it did at the Radiant Dragon Guild, where I’d only entered a shrine at the request of Jiven Wysaro’s message. I figured showing respect for religion might help me to understand the Qihin.
“As much as I’d like to visit the temple, I’m going back to the lower city,” Faryn said. “The locals still need to heal and recover from this attack, and I’ve plenty of herbs and poultices from my travels through the lands of the Qihin. With your leave, Princess Kumi?”
“Our people will be honored to benefit from your skills, Master Faryn,” Kumi said with a small bow.
The elf peered at my shoulder through the torn cloth of my robes, prodded the wound with her fingers, and nodded.
“That’s good work.” She smiled at Kumi. “You should let it rest, mighty Swordslinger.”
“No promises,” I said. “Trouble has a way of finding me.”
“It really does.” Faryn shook her head and turned to leave. “I’ll see you later--hopefully in one piece.”
Kumi led the rest of us out of the courtyard and through a large gate to the north. At the edge of the rock on which the palace stood, a stream ran out over the edge and formed a waterfall that plunged down to the city below. There was no sign of stairs to the peak of the mountain.
“Step into the water,” Kumi said. “It will take you down.”
I peered over the drop at the hard ground 40 feet below. “Won’t that just be gravity?”
“Trust me.” Kumi laid a hand on my arm again and smiled. “I’ll show you.”
She stepped into the stream where it frothed and plummeted over the edge. The water rose up to form a disk beneath her feet. It went with the flow of the water, over the edge, and Kumi sank slowly from view.
I took a deep breath and followed her lead. I expected my feet to get wet as I stepped onto the water, but instead, the water formed a rubbery platform beneath me. There was a brief, dizzying moment of fear as I went over the edge. The fight-or-flight instincts in the animal recesses of my brain constricted around me. Sweat flooded my palms, and I meditated to calm myself.
The fear faded slowly as I continued to inhale and exhale. My mind cleared, and I could enjoy the view as an invisible elevator carried me to the bottom, with the waterfall crashing around me. The disk fell away as I reached the bottom. Water streamed over my head as gravity took hold and water soaked my clothes from above. I laughed, stepped out of the waterfall, and shook like a dog drying itself.
“You could have warned me about that last part,” I said.
“What, you’re afraid of getting a bit wet?” Kumi asked with a smile. “A warrior of your skill and bravery? I hardly believe it.”
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“I prefer to know what’s coming.”
“Sometimes, there’s pleasure in the unexpected. And novelty. In this case, I’m rather enjoying the view.”
Her gaze ran up and down as it took in the way my robes clung to my body. I returned the favor and enjoyed the droplets of water still running down the bare skin of her shoulders and across the swell of her breasts. Her skirts plastered themselves to round hips and shapely legs. She bit her lip and gave me a sparkling smile.
“Any reason why we didn’t take this waterfall elevator to get up to the palace? It would have been a lot faster than climbing the mountain path.” I didn’t add that it might have saved the lives of her father’s bodyguards.
“I’m not sure what an elevator is,” the princess answered, “but the aqua-disc only travels down. Allowing it to transport people upward would provide a weakness in the defense of the palace.”
Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped the monsters from reaching the palace.
“Wet, wet, wet!” Kegohr said as he emerged from the waterfall. Vesma followed a moment later, and she scowled as she twisted the water from her hair.
“This way,” Kumi said before she led us off through the streets.
The princess asked the others about their backgrounds and the powers they had gained through Augmenting as we walked. She listened intently and asked more questions about Radiant Dragon, clearly in awe of what we could do. To a Wild water Augmenter, the power of tamed fire Augmentation was something extraordinary.
“And to combine that with other powers,” she said, looking at me. “Your sap healing technique on its own would be amazing, and that’s just one facet. I can’t wrap my head around it all.”
Kegohr laughed. “That’s just part of the parcel with our mate Effin.” He slapped me on the shoulder with so much half-ogre strength that I almost fell over. “He always defies expectations.”
Our route took us through the upper reaches of Qihin City toward the towering rock formations of the rear wall. Rivers and streams still gushed between the houses, but the rapids distinguished them from the steady streams in the parts of Qihin City I’d seen earlier.
The Temple of the Deep stood at the base of the rock formations between the churning waters of two rapidly flowing rivers. The outer walls gleamed with a layer of magical ice that spiked up toward the mountain with polished points. A layered pagoda tower with curved roofs rose above the walls. Water sluiced from its layered ceiling and added to the roar of racing water. A grand gateway in the shape of a dragon’s mouth, with glittering gems for eyes, stared down from the gatehouse above.
“You mentioned relics earlier,” I said to Kumi as I looked at the temple. I couldn’t help but think of the Sundered Heart and the spirit within the weapon. Or of the powerful scroll Xilarion had given me that could summon a fire golem.
“Objects of power that have been in our line since the clan was first formed,” Kumi explained. “It is watched over by the dragon spirit, Yono, known by some as the Guardian of Crashing Waves.”
“Friend of yours, Nydarth?” I silently asked the sword.
She snorted. “You think just because I’m a dragon spirit that Yono is my friend? Not all dragons are fire creatures, Ethan. Some take to other elements. I’ve heard of this Yono, but I’ve never met her properly.”
Fishfolk guards stood to either side of the gate. Their blue and green uniforms were trimmed with a silver brocade that matched the sheen of their scales. Each carried a trident and a tower shield embossed with the likeness of the dragon statue above their heads.
“Your highness,” a guard said as we approached the entrance. They both bowed their heads to Kumi and turned to evaluate us with tense, expectant expressions.
“Were you here when the monsters attacked?” Kumi asked.
“No, Your Highness,” the nearest guard said. “We only just relieved the others’ watch.”
“And did they face much trouble?”
The guard looked uncomfortably at his companion and back to Kumi. “Better for you to see for yourself, Your Highness,” he said as he stepped aside to let us through.
I watched the guards as we walked past. None would meet my gaze. One looked at the floor, and I followed his eyes. Dark stains were visible in the gaps between the flagstones, blood that they hadn’t had time to wash away.
Something about them rubbed me the wrong way.
We emerged from the confines of the gatehouse into the open space of the courtyard. It was every bit as impressive inside as it was outside.
Ice encrusted the walls and shifted slowly as wisps of fog drifted from them. Patterns of frost formed and reformed over a layer of blue-gray stone. The white of the ice created images of storm-tossed oceans, of people swimming with fish in the deep and a dragon cresting the waves with wings spread wide.
“What do you see?” Kumi asked me, clearly proud of the magic.
People emerged from the sea onto land, worked with the water they found there to feed crops and built homes amid the rivers, streams, and lapping tides. It was like watching a hauntingly pale cartoon on the world’s biggest widescreen TV.
“The story of the Qihin people and this city,” I said.
“There’s more,” the princess said as she gestured for me to continue.
For all their wonder, the shifting walls were just the frame for the focus of the courtyard. Statues like those I had seen around the city rose up 20 feet high and towered over us. Each one was clearly a figure of legend, equipped with some marker of who they were and what they stood for. There was a man clutching a net from which an endless tide of fish flowed and became the pedestal on which he stood; a woman in close-fitting armor with a trident raised high with a jeweled circlet on her head; an androgynous figure with the wings of a dragon who carried a set of scales in one hand as coins ran from the other.
We crossed the courtyard and moved in and out of the shadows of these divine beings until we reached the grandest statue of all: a vast, winged lizard with its tail coiled in long, snake-like loops. Surrounded by burning candles, the dragon’s body reared up as if it was about to spring into flight. It bared rows of ice-frosted teeth as its wings swept back in mid-flight. One claw was stretched toward the sun.
“Yono,” Kumi said, bowing her head. “Guardian, guide, we thank you.”
The rest of us bowed our heads respectfully to the impressive figure.
“Is Yono a living spirit?” I asked. “Or a creature from the past?”
“That’s a complicated question,” Kumi said. “Yono is said to have lived among the Qihin in the first generations of the clan. They taught us how to tame the waves both around us and within us, to become as one with the flow of the tides. They left after their great battle with Ordath the Burning Brand, when they had been wounded in defence of the Vigorous Zone and those who lived around it. Some say that the wound was fatal, and the divine Qihin passed from this realm. Others say that they survived but moved on, as we could now protect ourselves and others who were in need. Whichever it was, Yono’s spirit still guards us, providing the courage and the wisdom we need to face a turbulent world.”
The princess took a handful of incense sticks from a pot near the base of the statue, used a burning candle to light them, and placed them in a pot amid Yono’s coiling tail. The smoke was sweet yet earthy and made me feel as if I could take on the world.
I recalled the shrine to Nydarth on the mountain path outside the Radiant Dragon Guild House. It was nothing like this mighty space dedicated to Yono.
“Do you have a temple like this somewhere?” I asked Nydarth silently.
She snorted. “If only.”
Behind Yono’s statue lay the doors carved from large pieces of salt-encrusted driftwood. The individual planks were mismatched in color, texture, and shape. They made something that worked seamlessly together, framed in highly polished bronze.
“This is the inner shrine,” Kumi said as she opened the doors.
I ente
red a room lined with blue and white tiles. They merged into an artistic mural of waves and gave the impression we were surrounded on all sides by the sea.
Only the ceiling was different. A huge carving of snow-blown icebergs spiked with real icicles hung down and cast a scattered collection of curved and pointed lights that spun over the walls. Mighty statues of the ancient Qihin guarded the walls and items displayed on pedestals. An ancient and much-mended net, a gleaming blue-green orb, and a series of glowing scrolls shimmered when the flames from burning braziers touched them. The far end of the chamber was illuminated by a single beam of sunlight that focused on an empty plinth.
Kumi gasped and ran over to the empty pedestal. She searched frantically on the ground behind it and turned to us.
“The Depthless Dream!” she shouted. “It’s been taken!”
One of the statues shifted suddenly and jumped down from its pedestal. Sunlight gleamed from a body of frozen plates joined together by sinews of water. The ice golem stood 10 feet tall, clutching a massive icicle in its hand and glaring at us with cold, unfeeling eyes.
“Is that meant to happen?” Vesma asked.
“I don’t think so,” Kegohr answered.
I unsheathed my sword as the golem thundered over the carved floor toward Kumi, its icicle held out like a spear.
“Kumi!” I yelled as I raced to get between her and the animated statue.
As the golem jabbed its spear down, the princess moved aside, and the weapon struck the pedestal. Its tip shattered against the stone in a shower of ice.
Fire flared along the Sundered Heart as I called forth my Vigor while sprinting at top-speed. The golem stabbed at me, but I parried the blow, and there was a hiss of steam as fire and water collided.
Kumi ran toward the doors. “Guards!” she yelled. “Guards!”
The guards we’d seen at the front gate appeared. They took hold of the shrine’s doors and slammed them shut. Kumi reached them and hammered on the wood just as the thud of a bar being forced into place sounded from outside.
“What are you doing?” she shouted through the door. “I am your princess; answer me!”