Six Celestial Swords (20 page)

AS THEY MOVED away from Nidwohlen, the companions began to feel the wind, seeping through the edges of the Hollowen, rustling the branches and stirring the shadows as the lanterns Tarfan and four of the bodyguards held up swayed in their grasps. Most of the company walked, since four horses had been the fee for boarding the
Swimming Dragon
back in Sheng Fan. Four imperial horses may have seemed exorbitant to some, but Xu Liang insisted, after the owner of the fishing junk had agreed to perform the service to the Empress without cost, having guessed as to Xu Liang’s station through his dress, manner and rumors fisherman often heard of the sorcerers in service at the Imperial City. The man stood to miss a day’s fishing and since it would be burdensome to travel with eight horses aboard ships and through mountains, it seemed adequate compensation for the journey and the humbled man’s silence.

Tarfan, who was used to long treks on foot, lead the way with the ever-alert Guang Ci close behind him. Two more guards with lanterns walked just after them. In the middle of their small caravan, Xu Liang rode upon the one of their horses that could not have been sold, a gray steed named Blue Crane, given to him by the late Emperor shortly before his passing. Gai Ping rode beside him to his left and to Xu Liang’s right, Taya sat upon what had previously been Guang Ci’s mount. At the rear, one bodyguard walked the horse bearing most of their equipment, flanked by the last two men, who also carried lanterns.

Of course, the light did nothing in the way of covering their passage, but it enabled them to travel faster. The guards were trained for long marches and little sleep. A veteran like Gai Ping had endured far worse than this. As to Xu Liang, riding upon such a fine animal as Blue Crane, who walked with a smooth gait and rarely panicked—the darkness over Nidwohlen was an unusual occurrence—he was able to concentrate on his meditation. The longer the journey lasted, the more he would come to depend on it, and on Blue Crane. Once he returned to Sheng Fan, it would take considerable time and caution to resume a normal habit of living. An event such as what had taken place aboard the
Pride of Celestia
was a danger he could not afford again. He should have listened to Fu Ran and stayed well away from danger, but he could not, on good conscience, abandon the others to those who seemed determined to be his enemies.

Thinking about the Fanese giant made Xu Liang think about his younger years at the Imperial City. He recalled himself at just eighteen, arguing duty with Fu Ran, who only aggravated the situation by constantly grinning and making light of what his friend –and master, at the time—believed were exceedingly wise words. Even Xu Liang suffered a stage of youth where his ego had swollen to almost unbearable proportions, and he realized now that because of it, he may have been the primary cause for Fu Ran’s flight from his homeland.

Before he’d matured enough to truly possess wisdom, and to become an advisor to the Emperor, Xu Liang had only knowledge and a blind love for the Empire and its sovereign, like so many others in his position. Fu Ran’s rogue nature at the time frustrated and angered him, as no one nor anything ever did or ever could. Not even the loss of the Emperor, whom he’d grown to trust as a father, inspired anger in him. He recalled feeling only sadness then, and again with Song Lu’s death. In both instances, especially Song Lu’s assassination, Xu Liang had duty to overwhelm any emotions and keep them safely at bay while he focused on keeping the Song in their rightful place.

Gai Ping’s voice pulled him from the memories. “My lord, the air grows colder by the moment.”

Xu Liang answered the unspoken question without looking at the elder. “I’m all right, Gai Ping. I apologize for concerning you.”

“You...seem distracted,” the guard ventured.

Xu Liang nodded. “A little. Perhaps.”

On his other side, Taya joined in, unknowingly repeating what Gai Ping had just said in Fanese. “You look bothered by something. Is it what that old gypsy woman said to you?”

“No,” Xu Liang replied patiently. “I am aware of my own mortality, so it does not disturb me to have someone reveal my death to me.”

“Do you believe she was telling the truth?” the young dwarf asked. “Do you think she really knows about such things?”

“I cannot say. Truthfully, it does not matter. The telling was so vague that it would be impossible to recognize the moment when it came.”

Taya seemed to disagree. She said flatly, “It was fire. The old woman said you’d die in a fire.”

Xu Liang glanced at her sidelong. “Did she? A fire would be bright, but what fire can consume a body without burning it? Perhaps she meant that a fire would surround me, that I would be trapped somehow and die slowly choking on the ash and smoke. Perhaps she only used the word fire and meant something else entirely, as is often the case with oracles.” Xu Liang sighed. “Or perhaps she meant nothing at all and it was, as your uncle calls it, inane babble.”

Taya looked at him for a long, thoughtful moment, then said, “You don’t believe that.”

Xu Liang shook his head. “No. I believe that it meant something, but I choose not to dwell on its meaning. There are other matters that concern me more.”

“Like the Swords.”

“Yes. Like the...”

Xu Liang didn’t finish his statement, drawing Blue Crane to an easy halt and calling to the others to stop as well. The wind was growing steadily stronger. Soon it was blowing the lanterns almost horizontally in the bearers’ grasp. Xu Liang had decided to carry
Pearl Moon
at his belt once they started into the wilderness. He watched now as it began to cast its pale blue glow with such intensity that it bled through the scabbard. “Tarfan, something’s coming!”

The dwarf was already on his way back, struggling on his strong, short legs as the sudden gale tried to push him into the horses. “I sense it, too! It feels like a blasted dragon!”

“We should douse the lights!” Taya suggested, holding tight to the reins of her mount as her dark hair was blown out of its binding in the wild wind. She turned her head to protect her eyes from bits of dirt blasting her eyes at it blasted her skin.

“The moon’s begun its descent! We’ll be in pitch darkness,” Tarfan argued.

And then the flames in the western style lanterns went out, and left them no choice. Blackness tumbled over them as if a god had thrown down a blanket over the world, granting them a heart-stopping instant of true night before
Pearl Moon
’s glow came through, highlighting traces of the world around Xu Liang as the eerie lighting hovered around the boundaries of his vision.

The wind died, and all was suddenly quiet.

Xu Liang held his breath, feeling his uneasy heartbeat but not hearing it. He could not see the others, only vague outlines of what was immediately near him. He kept thinking of the gypsy seer’s word for Yvaria’s evil: Keirveshen. Keirveshen, in the traditional Yvarian tongue—that of its oldest inhabitants—meant ‘shadow folk’, people of shadow.

Sound slowly returned to the forest, but it was no sound any of the companions delighted in hearing. It was the shuffle of many feet, the clacking of many thin objects upon the branches, and a chorus of sporadic flutters. Xu Liang thought of birds settling on perches, or bats...hundreds of them.

Chaos has come on black wings...

Xu Liang thought frantically, but this was no way to find him at his best. He served the Empire with study and planning. He could not fight what he could not see. Certainly, he could cast no winds without the risk of harming one or more of the others. Whatever had come had done so on its own wind besides, and would likely be unaffected by a spell that could never match the intensity of such a gale without many weeks of meditation. A spell such as that would probably have been Xu Liang’s last, even preparing for it. His only recourse was his blade, but there was only one
Pearl Moon,
and maybe hundreds of the enemy. Hundreds that would overwhelm his blind companions before they even realized what had come at them. His hand rested on the hilt of the Celestial Blade, his thoughts reeling.

“
Keirveshen! Ellum lathar Aerkiren!
”

The voice rang out of the darkness, pure and confident, a resonance like nothing Xu Liang had ever heard. It carried an almost physical force, one that calmed at first and then inspired action in the next instant. The mystic drew
Pearl Moon
and held the glorious sword skyward, forming a beacon with its glow. The light filtered down the magic blade, illuminating the bearer and forming a shimmering dome around all in his company.

In the seconds that followed, the shadows stirred. Forms threw themselves at the dome and were deflected, just as
Pearl Moon
would deflect another blade in combat. Ripples of magic radiated throughout the dome where winged attackers struck, like stones dropped in water. However, this water could not be penetrated. Xu Liang and the others were safe for now in the soft, protecting glow of Mei Qiao’s robes.

Outside, hoof beats pounded through the deeper darkness beyond
Pearl Moon
’s radiance. The unknown rider was illuminated in sporadic blinks of violet light as his weapon painted swaths of magic upon the shadows. Creatures shrieked and died, and fled in terror—what little they knew of it. Their child-sized humanoid shapes danced in the light of the dome and writhed in the lightning strokes of the other blade...a Celestial Sword.

They had found one, in the shadow of the dragon’s spine.

D
AWN BROUGHT THEM to the edge of the Hollowen Forest, where they took rest and waited. At some point during the night,
Pearl Moon
had ceased to glow and Xu Liang knew the threat had gone, but so too had the other Celestial Blade and its bearer. They would wait for him, as long as was necessary.

TARFAN WAS BEGINNING to worry. The mystic sat at the edge of their camp with an eerie possessedness about him as he stared back into the woods that had disgorged them in a heap of fright and confusion. All but Xu Liang. After the sword spell, he had one focus; the foul Hollowen. Not the forest itself, Tarfan knew, but the ghost that had passed through it and frightened away the devils. The mystic claimed it had been a sword, one of the Celestial Blades he’d devoted so much of his life researching. Maybe, in that respect, he ought to know, but no one else had seen anything. One instant they were in sightless blackness and the next they were trapped beneath an overturned bowl of sorcery, praying the fiends left outside wouldn’t claw their way through. Under the mystic’s shield, Taya had had the presence of mind to relight a few of the lanterns, and once the sword’s spell lifted, they bolted.

And now, here they sat, too close to the very woods that had tried to kill them the night before.

Tarfan sighed, gnawing disinterestedly on a tear of dried venison while Taya slept and the guards organized themselves and the gear. When the oldest one walked past him, heading toward Xu Liang, Tarfan stopped him by grabbing his elbow. The man, carrying a small bowl in both hands, looked down at him without expression, managing to make Tarfan feel two feet smaller in the process. Still, with gruff confidence, he detained the man and said, “Is that some of the mage’s holy water? I’ll take it to him.”

The guard continued to stare, silent. He frowned with disapproval when Tarfan made a careful reach for the bowl. The dwarf sighed. He hated to offend anyone, but resorted to the crudest most understandable form of communication he could think of. Indicating the bowl with one hand, he patted his chest with the other, then pointed toward Xu Liang.

The man’s almond-shaped eyes narrowed. Tarfan’s insides clenched and all he could think of was the swift, sudden movement that had taken the gypsies down at the Inn of the Howling Wolf.

And then the guard spoke, bending to offer the bowl. Tarfan didn’t understand the words, but the man gesticulated as he spoke in such a way that he understood he was being warned not to spill the dish’s precious contents. Tarfan promised with a nod and thanked him, and proceeded to take slow, cautious steps toward the mystic.