Adventures of the Twin Tails

The Airship Lost Campaign, A Divine Blood Story by Branwen Gillen

Chapter One – Amaya’s Birth

No, no, no, no, no…

It’s ok, I’m here.

Something’s wrong. I’m not supposed to be like this.

I know. It’ll be ok, I know what we can do…

#

“I hate you, Yukimura!” Setsuko screeched at the top of her lungs, flinging two kunai at her de facto husband’s head.

Yukimura Hayato squeaked, ducking behind the doorframe moments before the throwing knives whizzed through the air where his head had been before embedding themselves in the hallway wall opposite. “Why do you hate ME?”

“This is all your fault!” she shouted back, whipping her tails at him as she wheezed through another contraction.

“Oh, no, don’t peg this one on me,” he replied, gingerly peeking around the corner, “you got yourself into this all by yourself!”

“You said you’d take responsibility!”

“For the child, yes!”

“Setsuko!” Dr. Minoru snapped. “It’s a bit early to be making foreplay! Concentrate and breathe, please!”

“Don’t think this is over! I’ll remember this, Hayato!” Setsuko snarled one final time before getting to the business at hand.

“Don’t I know it,” he sighed, wiping his brow. Walking over to the kunai, he had to grip them with two hands to pull them out of the wall. “Where the hell does she hide these things, anyway?”

Looking over at the two old men smiling beatifically at him from the bench next to the main entrance of the Yukimura family home, their bushy orange tails waggling excitedly, he shook his head. Walking over to hang the kunai on his coat rack, he tried to ignore Setsuko’s screaming and cursing. Not much I can do in there but get in the way or get stabbed, he thought to himself, bewildered and overcome.

Setsuko, the three-tailed kunoichi, his wife. A retired warrior, too stubborn for her own good. He asked himself again what a woman like that saw in the single-tailed accountant son of a rice farmer. She didn’t need him to provide for her child… their child, he corrected himself. Again, he resigned himself to never knowing.

The sound of a baby crying snapped him out of it but it was the short, sharp, cry of Dr. Minoru and set him running. Bursting through the doorway, he found the doctor standing a few feet away from the bed, staring at the baby. Hayato also stared at the tiny little girl, lying on her back with her arms and legs curled, little hands balled into fists. “Doctor?”

“Is something wrong?” Setsuko asked.

Dr. Minoru shook herself out of it, stepping forward to grab the swaddling clothes but remaining strangely quiet. “Doctor!” Hayato snapped, kneeling next to the baby to look at her.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Dr. Minoru finally said. “Hayato, you can help me.”

Hayato gasped, seeing what was wrong the moment the doctor picked the little girl up. At the base of her spine, she had two tiny, cute, wiggling, stubs. Once she was swaddled, he cradled her in his arms and sat gently down on the edge of the bed next to his wife. Setsuko was still white and sweating, but she managed a smile, reaching up to tickle the girl’s cheek with her pinky. “Hey, little one, what’d you do to get the doctor and my silly husband upset?”

Hayato glanced at Dr. Minoru. “Uh, it’s not important…” He stopped the moment his wife frowned. Whipping her hand out, she grabbed his ear and twisted. “OW! OW! OW! Honey, you’re hurting me!”

“What are you not saying, Hayato?” she asked sweetly.

“She’s got two tails!” he finally said, giving in. “She’s already got two tails!”

Her fingers went limp as her eyes widened.

“I’ll… go…” Dr. Minoru murmured. “The elders will want to know her name.”

“Amaya,” Setsuko told her, “Yukimura Amaya.”

#

“A two-tailed baby!” Nakamura Kuro, town elder, exclaimed, pacing the council chambers. His four tails swished around him in agitation.

Kato Shinobu tutted over her knitting. “You’ll wear a hole in the carpet, Kuro,” she admonished, “calm down.”

Feeling childish, he finally stopped. “This is beyond anything in my experience! How does such a thing happen?”

Dr. Minoru shrugged. “I don’t know, I’ve never heard of anything like it. I’ve left a message with my old teacher, confidentially of course.”

“I’ll say what nobody else here wants to,” Yoshida Riku interrupted. “What if the child is already Kumiho?”

Shinobu sighed and threw her knitting down into her lap. “Think before you say things, Riku! How would that even work?”

“I’m old enough to know better than to trust every outsider that comes into our village!” he snapped back. “What do we know about Setsuko? She turned up in our village, claiming to be a retired Psyche agent, shacked up with my great-grandson in our ancestral home no less and decided to have a child of her own flesh and blood rather than his! Humph! In better times, she’d already be out on her ear.”

“Your own gripe with Setsuko aside,” Kuro growled, “she had the proper papers from Psyche. And, this has nothing to do with baby Amaya. I’ll need some proof before we start throwing the word ‘Kumiho’ around so casually.”

“I’m saying she could have fed her child a soul or two,” Riku said. “Or maybe the child is some wretched abomination trying to trick us. We can’t ignore the prophesy of the Ten-Tails…”

Shinobu snorted. “Really? We’re going to bring up ancient legends too, now? Shall we prepare bomb shelters just in case the hundred-and-one calamities strikes this year? It hasn’t for the last ten millennia, maybe it’s due any day now.”

Riku scowled at her, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m warning everyone, woman,” he said, pointing one of his five tails at her accusingly. “I won’t let this village be destroyed over one little wailing brat!”

“Has the baby done anything to merit such a reaction?” Shinobu asked Minoru calmly. Minoru shook her head. “See, Riku dear? Why don’t you calm down until this becomes an actual emergency?”

“I agree with Shinobu,” Kuro said, “let’s calm down and wait. We need more information and, if the child is somehow malevolent, it shall become apparent in due time.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn the two of you,” Riku grumbled.

#

Hayato dashed from door to door, window to window, checking locks. He cursed the thin rice paper doors of his ancestral family home. Why couldn’t he have bought a nice, modern, home with a nice, modern security system. Maybe gun turrets and electric fences too.

Setsuko hummed to herself happily as she played with little Amaya, deftly arranging her new diaper while holding safety pins in her teeth. “Husband, why don’t you settle yourself and have some tea?”

Pausing mid-dash down the hallway, he glared at her, aghast. “Need I remind you that there’s an unruly mob of townsfolk led by ‘bring back the noose’ Riku carrying torches coming up the road?”

“I know, seriously, who uses torches in the current age?” Setsuko scoffed. “They’re really going to have problems setting this old place ablaze unless they have some kind of accelerant.”

“Did you hear me? They could be coming to kill us! And Amaya!”

Finishing the diaper, Setsuko made sure little Amaya was gurgling happily to herself before turning to her husband. Reaching up, she cradled his cheeks in her hands and kissed him on the nose. “Honey, if they want to try to do that, there’s not much we can do about it now. If you really want to help, remain calm, greet them when they arrive and remind them that I’ll kill anyone who steps across your threshold tonight.”

Her smile was the scariest thing Hayato had ever seen.

Nakamura Kuro was puffing when he threw open the front door and let out a surprised chirp when a kunai embedded itself into the doorframe next to his head, ducking for cover. “Setsuko! It’s me, Kuro! I came running as soon as I could!”

Hayato ran over to help the old Kitsune up to his feet. “I’m sorry, elder, my wife is a little on edge.”

“Pardon me, elder,” Setsuko said, giving him a curt bow before returning to care for Amaya.

“Riku’s riled up most of the village,” Kuro informed Hayato as the younger man helped him to the bench. “Nobody knows how or why Amaya was born with two tails and they’re assuming the worst, as always. You should take your wife and child and run, at least until this blows over.”

“Have you met my wife?” Hayato chuckled, trying to put a brave face on for the elder. “If you want to try to convince her to run with Amaya, be my guest.”

Kuro looked to the doorway from which Setsuko’s merry humming could be heard. “Is she all right?”

“I ask that a lot myself,” Hayato admitted, “but I wouldn’t have married her if I didn’t have faith that she knows what she’s doing.”

“Then what are you going to do?”

Hayato shrugged. “What my wife says, go out there and have a chat.”

Helping the old man up again, Hayato lent him a hand as they walked out onto the front porch. The torches were plainly visible, bobbing as their bearers tromped down the road towards them. It wasn’t until they were a few feet from the gate that Riku noticed the two men and called the mob to a halt. “Kuro? Get out of there! We’re taking Amaya into custody!”

“Eh, sorry sir but my wife may have something to say about that,” Hayato called back, scratching the back of his head.

“Shush, boy! Get down from there this instant!”

“What? Why? You’re all free to come in if you like,” Hayato said, casually picking some wax out of his ear. “I can’t promise that you’ll be able to leave, though. I’m not the strongest guy in this village and some of you look way too heavy for me. Besides, what are you going to do, great-grandfather? Burn down our ancestral home?”

“Better one house than a whole village!”

“You’re right! What’s one house of many? One parent of many? One baby of many? Why bring the whole village with you when just one child-killer would do?”

Several members of the mob shifted uncomfortably. “We’re not here to hurt the baby!” Riku insisted. “We’re going to put it where it can’t hurt anyone!”

“It? Where do you get off calling Amaya an ‘it’?” Hayato demanded. “Taking a child from her mother, you should all be ashamed of yourselves!”

“Even if she’s just an innocent, somehow, she’s a risk to all of us! If the other races discover our secret...” Riku left the threat hanging unspoken.

Hayato was about to reply when a burning yellow streak shot over the mountains, arcing down to impact in his front garden with enough force to shake the patio. Once the dust cleared, a small blonde figure leapt forward, hugging Hayato fiercely. “HAYATO! Look at you, all fatherly and grown up now!”

Frozen, Hayato cringed away from the far-too familiar thirteen-year-old girl. “Uh, do I know you?”

Jumping up, she lightly smacked the back of his head. “Oh, silly! Of course not! We’ve never met before!”

Riku trudged forward, kicking in the gate to clear his path. “Now what the hell is this? Who are you?”

Stepping to the edge of the porch, the girl’s amber aura blazed to life, a halo of nine tails emerging from her form accompanied by a peal of thunder. “I am Yakyou, Setsuko’s master and Godmother of Yukimura Amaya.”

The entire mob took a step back as Riku’s face turned white. “Yakyou? The Uncounted Calamities?”

Smiling, Yakyou leant forward, reaching out to pat the old man on the cheek. “You’ve gotten old, Riku. Why don’t you go yell at some clouds or something?”

“Sensei, is that you?” Setsuko asked placidly, holding Amaya in her arms as she stepped out onto the porch. Yakyou span about with an excited yip, skipping over to coo over the baby girl. “Awwww, she’s so cute!”

Amaya giggled, reaching out to grab Yakyou’s finger in her iron grip. “That’s right, I’m your Godmother, little one,” Yakyou told her earnestly, “we’re going to have so much fun together!”

Hayato felt a chill go down his spine.

Kuro coughed. “Great Yakyou, maybe you can clear something up for us on the matter of Amaya.”

Yakyou’s left ear flattened to the side of her head while her right cocked up curiously. “Oh?”

“How can it be that a Kitsune could be born with two tails?”

“Ooooooh, is that what this is all about?” Yakyou glanced at the mob still fidgeting beyond the fence. “Wow, have you all really forgotten so much of our history here in the sticks? That’s easy, it just happens.”

Riku spluttered. “But how? It can’t ‘just happen’, she’s two people!”

Yakyou held her face with her free hand for a moment. “You’re lucky my therapist is trying to get me to cut down on massacres. Sometimes, like every other species, Kitsune are conceived as twins. Even more rarely, those twins become so synchronised with one another that they merge, not into a single body and soul such as occurs in humans, but as twin-tailed foxes.”

Murmurs broke out through the mob. Several shouted angrily before dousing their torches to stalk back down the hill. “No! Wait!” Riku called out desperately as his support crumbled. “She’s still a danger to the entire village! What will the rest of them do if they learn about the merger?”

“I came here to protect my own against a Kumiho!” someone shouted angrily.

Kuro stepped forward. “Please, all of you return to your homes! I understand that you have your concerns and I promise that they will be addressed in legal counsel. There is no danger here, please leave this happy family in peace!”

Once the mob was dispersed, Kuro picked Riku up off the grown and hoisted the old man’s arm over his shoulder. “Come on, you old fool,” Kuro sighed, “let’s go get drunk together, like in the old days.”

While the women chatted excitedly as they moved back into the warmth inside and the elders began the long trek down the hill, Hayato felt the tension drain out of him, sinking into a curled heap on the porch. “What did I do to earn a life with this much excitement?” he asked the empty air plaintively.

Chapter 2 – Childhood

“Get back here this instant, Akiko!” Ikeda Rokurou screeched, chasing the six-year-old twin-tails as she ran atop the fence, clutching a bushel of apples to her chest.

Akiko! Please stop! Amaya cried while her sister giggled compulsively.

“Don’t be such a stick-in-the-mud, Amaya!” Akiko chided, swishing her white tails as if the wind would give her an extra boost. “It’s just a few apples! Rokurou’s got a whole orchard!”

“How do you think I earn a living?” Rokurou puffed.

“Ok, old man, here,” Akiko said, throwing an apple over her shoulder. The apple landed underneath Rokurou’s foot and the farmer catapulted face-first into the dirt. Akiko continued to laugh as she hopped down off the end of the fence and slipped into the underbrush.

Akiko, that was mean, Amaya accused her sister.

“Eh, a farmer shouldn’t be so out of shape, he needed the exercise. Besides, I didn’t hear you complaining when I suggested we climb up and nab a few of these beauties.”

I was hungry, Amaya muttered, and I thought we’d only take one or two, not a whole bushel. Besides, you know Rokurou’s just going to make father pay for all this, then we’ll really be in trouble.

Akiko settled under a bush and took a bite out of one of the apples. It was delicious. “Mmmm, I’ll say this for him, Rokurou grows some nice fruit. Don’t worry, sis, Dad’s a soft touch. Just flash him the doe-eyes, you know he can’t resist those.”

A large hand shot through the bushes, grabbing Akiko by the scruff of and hoisting her out of her hiding spot screeching and kicking. “Care to repeat that, Akiko?” Hayato growled, farmer Rokurou a few steps behind him.

“Um, no,” Akiko said before retreating back into Amaya’s subconscious. Her hair and fur darkened to blue-black with ice-coloured tips on her ears and tails and Amaya found herself facing her father’s angry red glare.

“Father! I’m sorry,” Amaya squeaked. “I only meant to take one!”

Hayato snarled. “Oh, no you don’t, you’re not getting out of this one, Akiko! Get back out here this instant!”

Yeah, no, that’s not happening, Akiko scoffed.

“She’s not going to come out, Dad,” Amaya admitted sheepishly, flinching away from his wrath.

Scowling in frustration, Hayato let Amaya down gently. “All right, just gather those up, give them back to Rokurou and say you’re sorry. I’ll pay for any that were ruined but you’re in a great deal of trouble, young lady!”

“Yes, Dad.”

Yes, Dad, Akiko mocked.

Amaya slapped herself on the side of the head.

Ow! That hurts both of us, you know!

#

“I can’t keep dealing with this,” Hayato ranted as he paced the living room floor. His wife was placidly sewing, repairing a hole in one of Akiko’s short kimonos. “Every day she’s causing trouble!”

“She’s a spirited young girl,” Setsuko agreed, “much like I was at her age.”

“Times have changed,” he grumbled, “the Community doesn’t need kunoichi anymore. The two of them are so different, how did they ever synchronize?”

“Amaya might be more level-headed but don’t think for a moment’s she’s blameless,” Setsuko said. “If she wants something, all she has to do is plant the idea in Akiko’s head.”

“This is all Yakyou’s fault,” he accused, waggling his finger at his wife. “I should never have agreed to let her into our daughter’s lives.”

“Sensei Yakyou can be difficult but believe me when I say that there’s meaning behind her apparent madness. I genuinely think she can help us.”

“Oh, no! Not again! Not after last time! Kyo’s cats haven’t been the same! I’m not going to let that perfidious, antisocial, sociopathic, immoral, lecherous, evil witch anywhere near our daughters ever again!”

There was a long pause as Setsuko stared flatly at him, her three tails braiding themselves together as the awkward silence continued.

“You’ve already called her, haven’t you?” Hayato asked.

Setsuko nodded, her ears bobbing slightly with the motion.

“And she’s standing right behind me, isn’t she?”

His wife nodded again.

Slowly turning his head, Hayato felt sweat trickle from his brow. “Yakyou! What a pleasant surprise!”

Before he could go any further, Yakyou kicked him in the face, sending him sprawling across the floor. “I heard everything you said, you little weasel!” Yakyou growled, flaring with bright amber light as her nine tails swished angrily, one hand balled into a tiny fist.

“Pardon him, Sensei,” Setsuko apologized while she picked her husband off the ground. “He’s merely concerned for our daughter’s welfare.”

She harrumphed, folding her arms across her chest. “I keep telling you, there’s nothing wrong with Amaya and Akiko. They’re just a bit precocious. Of course, if you’d let me train them…”

“No, I’m not just going to hand my daughter over to your ‘training from hell’!” Hayato said, stomping his foot. “The world has changed and the Community has changed with it, like it or not. Our daughter has to live in this new world and learn its rules but even Kuro is worried that we won’t be able to keep the Kitsune’s secret for much longer. If Amaya or Akiko make a mistake, they could be blamed for the consequences.”

“Kitsune only merge with willing people,” Yakyou countered. “Kumiho are criminals, plain and simple.”

“Sensei,” Setsuko interrupted. “We understand the ethics but you have to admit, the other races we share this world with won’t see it the same way. Also, I love my daughters dearly but would you trust a child with the responsibility of the merger? None of us know how long it might be before she’s ready to merge again, what if she rushes into it for all the wrong reasons?”

“Have you talked to Amaya and Akiko about this?” Yakyou asked. The two parents looked at each other guiltily. “Just as I thought. If you don’t mind, I’m going to go play with my goddaughters for a little while.”

Leaving Hayato and Setsuko to argue, Yakyou gnawed her lower lip as she crept through the house, following her life-force sense to Amaya’s bedroom. The little dark-haired girl was busy playing with her dolls, though her ears were flattened and slightly droopy, indicating sadness. Closing the door behind her, Yakyou skipped over to her goddaughter’s side and sat cross-legged next to her. “Awesome! What are we playing?”

Amaya smiled despite herself. “Witches and monster hunters. The heroic witches have trapped a mob of murderous hunters who’ve kidnapped an innocent vampyre.” She paused for a moment before flinging herself into Yakyou’s arms, unable to hold back her tears.

“There, there,” the nine-tailed kitsune stroked her goddaughter’s hair comfortingly. “What’s wrong?”

“Akiko’s not talking to me,” she sobbed, “and the village is talking about sealing her away. I don’t want her to leave, it’s not fair to keep her locked away.”

Yakyou sighed. “Akiko? Come on out, auntie’s here.”

Amaya’s sniffling stilled as her hair turned from black to white, the tips of her ears and tails flaring scarlet. Pulling away from her godmother, Akiko wiped the tears away and crossed her arms defiantly. “I didn’t do anything really bad this time, I don’t know what the fuss is about.”

“Me either,” Yakyou agreed, scratching the back of her head. “Best thing I can say is that your parents are scared for you. That you might hurt yourself. As for the rest of the village, they’re a bunch of spineless wimps.”

“You think Mum and Dad will let us go train with you?” Akiko asked hopefully.

Oh, please, can we? Amaya echoed hopefully.

“I think that’d be for the best but I doubt either your parents or the village will agree that’s the best thing for you,” Yakyou sighed. “Being the Uncounted Calamities has a downside. You know my training will be harsh, don’t you? I’m not an easy mark like your father and I’m not going to be as soft on you as your mother will be.”

I don’t think a teacher should be soft on their students, Amaya said. And we don’t really get along with the other kids at school. Most of them can’t even do illusions or change yet. Plus they get creeped out with Akiko and I being two people.

“I see,” Yakyou grumbled. “I’ll have a talk with your parents and old man Kuro and see what I can do. Besides, we’ve got a vampyre to save!”

#

“The council has decided,” Kuro sighed heavily as he sat down with Hayato and Setsuko. Yakyou was dozing in the sunlight on the porched, curled up inside her bright yellow nest of tails. “Akiko is to be sealed at least until Amaya comes of age.”

“I was afraid of this,” Setsuko said. “However, Akiko is also my child and I don’t think this is the best for her. The council is dictating what is expedient for the village, not the best for her.”

“It is my opinion, after reviewing the reports from her teachers and the many police reports, that Akiko is as much a danger to Amaya as she is to herself or the other children. Naturally, the elder’s ongoing concerns about Akiko exposing the secret of the merger to the Community at large is also a heavy factor in our decision. I’m sorry but if your family is to remain here…”

Kuro paused as Yakyou stirred. When the nine-tailed kitsune failed to awaken or move, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’m sorry, Setsuko, I have to agree with the council’s decision,” Hayato said.

“You can’t think this is the best for her,” Setsuko replied. “What will happen to her personality if she’s sealed? Amaya will grow up without her and when the seal is removed, she’ll still be a six-year-old girl.”

“Amaya will be strong enough to maintain control then,” Hayato asserted. “She’s the more level-headed of the two anyway. She’ll be sad to lose her sister for a while but it won’t be forever.”

“Setsuko,” Kuro said, “one retired warrior to another, you know that sometimes we must make sacrifices for the good of the many. I don’t like this either, not one bit, but your daughters are a problem that we need to solve. Sealing Akiko is risky and, even though I’ve been asked to lead the ceremony, I admit that I’m not sure what the outcome of the ritual will be. If you were to choose to flee the village with Amaya and Akiko, I would understand.”

Yakyou sat up suddenly, startling the three kitsune inside. Drowsily rubbing her eyes, she rolled inside, springing up into a cross-legged sitting position like a spring-loaded board. “You’re all a bunch of morons,” she observed sleepily.

“Please stay out of this,” Hayato grumbled, “we’re Amaya’s parents, it’s our right to decide what’s best for her.”

“What’s best for her or what’s best for yourself?” Yakyou asked, turning to spit onto the tatami mat beside her. The spittle smoked and fizzled as it ate its way through the woven straw. “Maybe now you idiots will listen to my proposal. Let me take Amaya and Akiko on as my student. Setsuko can vouch for me.”

Setsuko looked away from Yakyou as all eyes turned towards her. Taking a deep breath, but unable to look her master in the eye, Setsuko shook her head. “I’m sorry, Sensei, but I don’t want my daughter to have the life I endured. I retired to the village to leave that life behind.”

“Is that what John wants?”

“Yes,” she said, finally turning to look Yakyou in the eyes.

“So you’re happy sacrificing your daughter for your own happiness too,” Yakyou accused, her eyes narrowing. “You disappoint me.”

A heavy silence fell over the group. Hayato took his wife’s hand to comfort her. “It’s ok, we’re doing the right thing for Akiko,” he reassured her, glaring at Yakyou. “No matter what she thinks.”

Yakyou smiled viciously, showing off tiny fangs. “You’re a brave man, Yukimura Hayato. Stupid, but brave. Perhaps stupidly brave, or maybe just stupid. No, wait, I’m right. It’s just that last one. Do you really think you can seal Akiko away safely, Kuro?”

Kuro wiped his brow. “Yes.”

“How reassuring,” Yakyou purred. “Well, it looks like none of you need me anymore. Don’t come crying to me when you find you’ve broken your pet and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life.”

With that, Yakyou disappeared. Kuro held his breath as he swiped his hand through the air where she’d been sitting a moment before. “Is she really gone, Setsuko?” Kuro asked.

“I-I don’t know,” Setsuko sobbed. “She’s never done that to me before.”

“It’s ok,” Hayato reassured his wife, hugging her while looking at Kuro. “We’re better off without her. Right, Kuro?”

Looking down at his feet, Kuro wondered if they were really doing the right thing. But he nodded, just to reassure the couple.

#

Amaya was sobbing as Setsuko led her into the middle of the circle, hugging her doll. “It’s going to be ok, all right Amaya? Elder Kuro is just going to let Akiko sleep for a while.”

“Akiko doesn’t want to sleep, Mum. Please don’t,” Amaya begged.

Forcing a smile, feeling sick to the stomach, Setsuko knelt and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t worry, she’ll be back with you before you know it.”

Kuro was sweating as he checked and triple-checked his circle. Elders Shinobu and Riku stood nearby with Hayato, who was frowning.

“Please stop,” Amaya continued to beg as her mother stepped out of the circle. “Akiko promises she won’t be bad anymore!”

“I’m sorry, Amaya,” Kuro said, sinking into a cross-legged position in front of her. “We’re not doing this to punish you or Akiko. The world’s a dangerous place and we’re doing this to protect you, so you can stay in the village and be safe.”

With that, Kuro clapped his hands together, closing his eyes to focus. “Just stay still, Amaya,” Setsuko told her daughter as the circle around her began to glow.

Amaya looked down at her doll, then up to her mother, across to her father and then at elder Kuro’s face screwed up in concentration. “No!” she cried out, hurling her doll directly into Kuro’s face. The circle’s energy crackled as Kuro’s chant slipped, snapping the elder out of his trance. “Amaya!” He cried out, reaching out but unable to move from his full lotus as the magic of the circle raged out of control. Setsuko was faster, reaching out to grab Amaya. Amber lightning arced from the circle the moment the tip of her finger crossed the threshold, throwing her across the room.

“Mommy!” Amaya called, turning around to see lightning crackling all around her. “No! Amaya! Stand still, honey!” Hayato snapped, caught between caution and leaping to his daughter’s aid. “Kuro! Drain the life force from the circle!”

“I can’t!” Kuro called out in horror, sweat trickling down the lines of his face. “There’s too much!”

Setsuko rolled onto her hands and knees, coughing. “If you don’t do it, old man, I will!”

“It’ll kill you!”

Hayato looked into his wife’s eyes and knew that look. “No!”

Reeling to her feet, Setsuko set herself, determined to run straight ahead and have the energy of the circle ground out through her. Hayato might anticipate what she was about to do, but she was still faster. Closing her eyes, she leapt forward. The circle exploded, throwing Kuro, Hayato and the other elders along with Setsuko back against the wall. “Amaya!” Setsuko shouted, coughing as she crawled toward the small crater. As the smoke and dust cleared, Setsuko’s eyes widened. Standing next to her daughter, both completely unscathed, was her master, Yakyou.

“Ugh, I’m done cleaning up your messes for you, Setsuko,” Yakyou griped, brushing dust off of her kimono.

“Sensei!” Setsuko cried, the word bursting from her throat along with her tension. “Thank you, Sensei.”

Amaya hugged Yakyou’s leg tight, burying her head in her godmother’s kimono. “Amaya,” Hayato called out to her, reaching out for her hand. “It’s ok, come here.”

Shaking her head emphatically, she shied away from her father, still clinging to Yakyou. The nine-tailed fox smirked. “I don’t think she’s going to trust you for a bit, Hayato,” she said, shrugging. “Why don’t you leave her alone for a bit?”

Hayato slumped, sinking to his knees. Kuro scrabbled over to bow in front of her. “Great Yakyou, I’m sorry. I wasn’t skilled enough to perform the sealing spell. Please, I beg your help!”

Yakyou scowled. “Really? After all this, you’re still set on this course?”

“What else can we do?” Hayato protested. “You might be older and more powerful than all of us, but we’re not like you. We need other people around us, people we can relate to. People we can work with to make something better and live in peace. Would you have all of us leap from conflict to conflict like you do? Never have a place to rest our heads? You don’t understand normal people at all anymore!”

“You’re pushing it, lunch meat,” Yakyou growled, her voice inhuman. “Distain me as much as you want, I’m the only person here who could save your child.”

“If you wanted to help, you could have done the sealing spell yourself!”

“Except that I find your plan immoral,” she retorted. “Amaya and Akiko both want to train with me, surely that’s a better solution than this madness.”

“No! I love my daughters, I won’t let you turn them into soldiers like you did with Setsuko!”

“And so you’ll attempt the sealing again? Even without me?”

Gulping, Hayato drew himself to his full height, resolute. “Yes. It’s the best thing for my daughter.”

Yakyou scowled, looking down at the wide-eyed Amaya. “If you insist on doing this, you leave me no choice. I will do as you ask but I have terms.”

“Name them.”

“I will seal both Amaya and Akiko,” Yakyou said, “until they come of age. Obviously neither you nor Setsuko can handle the responsibility of a child, and you won’t abdicate that responsibility to me. Therefore, you will send them away. The village and I will help you pay for their schooling elsewhere. You can visit but someone else will raise your child, do you understand?”

Hayato dithered, scuffing his feat. “Your terms are too cruel…”

“You have no right to speak of cruelty to me!” Yakyou shouted, her eyes flaring amber. “Forcing your own child to shoulder your burdens!”

“Hayato, stop,” Setsuko interrupted them. “She’s right. Agree to her terms.”

“Setsuko,” Hayato gasped, “we can’t…”

“We’ve done enough,” she said, pulling herself to her feet. “This is the best compromise. When Amaya and Akiko are of age, they can decide their path for themselves. We’ve abdicated our right to choose for them.”

Amaya yanked on Yakyou’s kimono. “Auntie? Are you going to put Akiko to sleep?”

Yakyou looked down on the little girl and smiled. “No, sweetie. I’m going to put both of you to sleep. You’ll be someone else for a while and you won’t remember any of this but when you wake up, you and Akiko will be together. You’ll also share all your memories from until then. Does that sound so bad?”

Amaya shook her head. “No. We trust you, Auntie Yakyou.”

“Good girl. Now close your eyes, this will be over in a moment.”

Nodding, Amaya closed her eyes.

#

Ichiro stirred, shaking her head as she got up out of bed to find her father and mother sitting beside her bed. Heyato and Setsuko looks at each other dubiously. “Mum? Is something wrong?” Ichiro asked, getting a weird vibe.

“Are you all right, Ichiro?” Setsuko asked, taking her hand.

“Got a bit of a headache. What happened?”

“Nothing, son,” Hayato lied smoothly. “You just took a bad bump on your head but the doctor says you’ll be fine.”

“That’s good, I’m still sleepy.”

Mum squeezed her hand. “That’s ok,” she said, “you can sleep. In the morning we have to talk to you about your new school. There’s a… scholarship the village is offering to Bravura Academy in Australia. If you need anything, we’ll be right in the next room.”

“Ok,” she said, the apparently human boy turning over to lie on her side before drifting off.

Outside, Hayato and Setsuko stared at each other for a long moment. “Hayato, I…” Setsuko began but she was cut off by a wave of Hayato’s hand. “No, I know what you’re going to say. I love you and I think we both need to be there for… Ichiro,” he said, finding it hard to wrap his mouth around the name. “But I can’t help but feel like I’m a failure as a parent. And I don’t think I can sleep next to you, knowing what I did. I’m going to take the couch for a while.”

“We did what we thought was right.”

“Did we?” he asked, brow furrowed. “I think you were trying to do the right thing. I’m not so sure I was. In the end, it’s like we just gave her up. I need to sleep on it. We both need to sleep on it.”

Agreeing, the couple went to separate rooms, to separate beds, not fully realizing that they wouldn’t be sleeping with each other ever again.

Chapter 3 – High School

“All right,” Mrs. Brockhurst called from the cockpit of the squat ZX-P79 upright. “I’m about to turn the ignition, Ichiro. Keep an eye on that pressure gage.”

“Roger, ma’am!” Ichiro called back cheerfully from between the upright’s legs. The ZX-P79 was thirty-three years old, built by a now defunct Chinese car manufacturer that had styled it to look like a cross between a workman’s van and something out of a 70’s sci-fi movie. The squat design, wide stance and low centre of gravity got around early upright’s problems with instability in a construction environment but made it slow and ponderous. Surprisingly strong spindly arms could unfold from the sides with a variety of attachments to aid in lifting and carrying loads safely. Altogether, it looked like a head with stubby arms and legs, combined with the sheer number of jury rigged repairs forced upon it, it’d earned the nickname Gremlin many times over. Unfortunately, the chassis was starting to rust, the panelling was dented to hell and rubber tubes were getting harder to replace. It wouldn’t be long before the school would have to scrap her, so this year’s school festival was probably her last ride.

Gremlin puffed to life, motors revving fitfully as a gout of black smoke coughed into the workshop, rising to linger under the tin roof like a storm cloud. Ichiro watched the pressure gage for the leg hydraulics rise towards the red bar. “Pumps are working,” she shouted to Mrs. Brockhurt over the noise. “It’s inching towards the redline but seems to be slowing down.”

A sudden rattle made Ichiro wince. “Hang on! We’ve got a loose fitting somewhere!” Checking the rubber pipes that snaked down the leg behind the knee, she found the loose fitting. “It’s ok, I’ve got it!”

“Do you need me to shut down?”

“No, I’ve got this,” Ichiro said confidently, drawing a wrench from her toolbelt. Taking a deep breath, she slipped the jaws of the wrench around the fitting, flicking the worm-screw several times to get a tight fit and slowly twisting the fitting clockwise. She wiped her brow when the rattling stopped. “Yes! I got it!”

Ichiro had a moment of relief before her gaze flicked over to the pressure gage which had just hit the redline. Gremlin’s orange hazard lights lit up the workshop as sirens bleared. Dogbiscuits, she thought just before the hose ruptured, hissing as oil sprayed across her face and overalls. “Ugh! I don’t got it,” she lamented, watching the pressure gage drop like a rock.

Mrs. Brockhurst powered down the upright before hopping off Gremlin to find Ichiro sorrowfully wiping her face on an oily rag. Slapping her on the back, she grinned. “Well, that’ll teach you to some caution in the future. No big deal, Mr. Yukimura, we’ll have to double-seal the fittings and maybe wrap some duct tape over the older hoses. Gremlin should be ready for the school festival parade by tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Ichiro sighed, internally wincing at being called ‘mister’. Not that Mrs. Brockhurst could know better, she reminded herself. She wasn’t exactly open about being trans.

Absently wandering over to the garage door, Ichiro leant against the frame to take in the view. The garage sat atop a hill on the edge of campus, a long, flat, expanse of grassland, sporting fields and test tracks stretching out below. Beyond the fields was verdant bushland and sprawling townships spread across rolling hills. The sky seemed huge, high, white, clouds drifting leisurely overhead. A single skyfreighter could be seen near the horizon, headed south from Darwin to Alice Springs.

Ichiro felt an ice-cold stab in her back, which made her jump. Chuckling, Mrs. Brockhurst handed her the soft drink fresh from the fridge she’d just been poked with. “Drink up, you’re dehydrated. Can’t help it workin’ under the tin roof,” she said, sipping her own drink.

Nodding, Ichiro cracked the can open and took a sip, suddenly feeling the thirst she’d been ignoring during work. Mrs. Brockhurst, noting that the teacher was an inch shorter than her. It was easy to forget with her stocky frame and musculature, in her mind’s eye Ichiro always saw her as a giant. “Lovely view,” she commented with a smile. “One of the reasons I took this job at Bravura. Peace and quiet. Well, when we don’t have kick-ass racing power frames screeching around the track at a gazillion kilometres per hour.”

Ichiro put on a grin she didn’t really feel for her teacher. “Minaba thinks the prototype will be ready for trials by the end of the holidays. Well, assuming she’s out of hospital in time. Unfortunately, I won’t be here.”

“Oh? Family vacation?”

“Yeah,” Iichiro answered sheepishly. “First vacation time Mum’s gotten since, well, ever. Dad’s new book’s doing well, so we’re going to meet up in Tokyo and see if they can stand each other for a couple of months. Leaving for Darwin in the morning.”

“Hell of a thing to be caught between. Hoping they’ll get back together?”

“Not really,” Ichiro admitted. “Maybe back when I was younger, I wanted that. What I think I really wanted back then was stability but I can’t really remember a time when Mum and Dad weren’t fighting or looking guiltily at each other. I reckon something happened that they don’t want to tell me or talk out. Nah, they’re better off separated, some couples just aren’t meant to be.”

“Mature of you but at least they’re trying. What sort of books does your Dad write?”

“Marriage counselling and parenting guides.”

Her flat stare said everything she was thinking. “Aren’t you an only child?”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve been in boarding schools since…”

“Since I was six,” Ichiro finished for her. “Yeah.”

She shook her head and chuckled at the irony.

Finishing her soda, Ichiro glanced at the digital clock on the wall over the workshop office door. It was only quarter to four, plenty of time to get back to the dorm before curfew. Then realization struck her, her Community Studies class began in town at four and it was a twenty-minute ride. “Ah! I have to go!” Ichiro cried, unzipping her overalls while hopping towards her book bag as she attempted to get the legs over her boots. “Nakamura-sensei’s going to kill me if I’m late again! Sorry, I’ve got to go!”

Mrs. Brockhurst watched her with wry amusement as Ichiro scrambled to make sure she had everything she needed. Just as she was about to sprint out the door, the teacher threw her a set of keys. “Go on, borrow the scooter. And if you’re still late, tell Nakamura I kept you.”

Nodding in thanks, Ichiro grabbed the handles of the refurbished old Vespa from the corner of the workshop and kicked it into gear. “Thanks, Mrs. Brockhurst!” she yelled, waving behind her as she raced down the paved footpath and onto the road, wind whipping through her hair.

Ichiro tried to keep to the speed limit and not rush just in case but she still caught herself going too fast several times. The town of Vollstahl was a few hours south of Darwin, a relatively tiny, remote, town. The perfect home for Bravura Academy, boarding school for the weird and wonderful from psychics and mages to stranger people besides. Vollstahl also had a fair Community presence, though the existence of non-humans was still a secret to the world at large.

Community Studies was an extracurricular course designed to give kids with unusual backgrounds a grounding in the Community and its culture. The course was funded and run by the Psyche, a foundation dedicated to the advancement of the Community, and provided extra credit to Bravura Academy students. Nakamura-sensei looked down his nose over his glasses as Ichiro burst into the room, puffing. “Sorry, Sensei, Mrs. Brockhurst said to tell you we ran a little overtime working on Gremlin.”

He checked his watch. “Not at all, Yukimura, you’re right on time. But you’re still the last person to class, again. Take your seat.”

Ichiro flopped into her chair and pulled her notebook and pen out of her bag. Crystal gave her a withering look from where she sat to Ichiro’s left. “Undisciplined akira,” she mumbled low enough for her to ear but not the teacher. Ichiro sighed. Akira was a derogatory term for a psychic who didn’t bother training their talents. It wasn’t that Ichiro wasn’t interested in training her talent, there was just so much else she was doing. Motor shop, robotics club, home economics, cooking at the food stand, cosplay club, video games… Not enough time in the day. But to an overachiever like Crystal Eldred, a member of one of the Breholm families, Ichiro was the lowest scum.

“Well, since we have my fellow countryman here on time today, let’s take a look at a race synonymous with Japan today,” Nakamura-Sensei said, sitting casually on the edge of his desk. “Who can tell me anything about Kitsune?”

Crystal immediately put her hand up.

“Can anyone other than Crystal tell me anything about Kitsune?”

Sighing deeply, Ichiro raised her hand.

“What?” Crystal scoffed, genuinely surprised. “Put your hand down, you don’t know anything!”

A few of their classmates tittered. “Crystal,” Nakamura-sensei chided.

“But he never knows anything!”

“I am Japanese, remember?” Ichiro asked rhetorically. “Kitsune as a whole are strong supporters of the Community despite being enigmatic and reclusive. They tend to gather in exclusively kitsune villages in remote areas and are known to be skilled illusionists. They have variable morphology, some are more fox-like than others and have to use illusions to pass in human society. The older they get, the more tails they get with nine tails being the highest number on record. A good rule of thumb is that the more tails a kitsune has, the more dangerous and eccentric they are. They’re also known to be, um, promiscuous. Which is probably based on unsubstantiated rumours, kinda like the succubi.”

“Of course you were paying attention during the lecture on succubi,” Crystal grumbled. “Boys.”

“Sensei,” Holden called from the back of the room, “maybe Ichiro’s really a kitsune!” He got some snorts and chuckles for his effort.

“No,” Crystal turned to inform him. “Kitsune are powerful illusionists that can shape reality at their whim. Ichiro can barely create a realistic figment of a pencil.”

“Wow,” Ichiro mumbled. “Getting a little cold under all this shade.”

“Come on, illusions are just parlour tricks,” Holden said, snapping his fingers to spark a fire that he held in his palm. “It’s not like they control matter and energy.”

Crystal shrugged. “My father said that illusionists can be some of the most powerful life-force users and not to underestimate them. I assume he meant those that apply themselves.”

“All right, all right,” Nakamura-sensei said, “I think we can all lay off Ichiro now. Crystal’s father was right, illusionists can be very dangerous. Highly skilled illusionists can create objects out of their imagination that are as physically real as any object that we’re used to. Ichiro-kun, if you had to call out any one thing about the kitsune’s relationship with the Community, what would it be?”

Ichiro considered the question for a moment while trying to ignore Sensei calling her ‘Ichiro-kun’, a masculine suffix. “They’re a bit of a paradox. They are some of the strongest Community supporters, known for great compassion and violence when either is called for. They’re fun-loving and gregarious, yet they keep to themselves and hide behind their illusions. It’s not just the behaviour of the many-tailed kitsune that make people call them eccentric.”

“How do you know all this?” Crystal asked.

“My godmother’s a kitsune.”

Nakamura-sensei’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t know that. Did she teach you illusions?”

“No,” Ichiro shook her head. “Mum and Dad are human illusionists, my godmother taught my mother. Mum told me that she wanted to train me too but they got me into Bravura on a scholarship. I can’t even remember my godmother but I figured I should read up on her people, you know, just in case.”

“Maybe she should have trained you,” Crystal suggested.

“Hey,” Holden called out again, “are we sure Ichiro’s not a kitsune? His parents are illusionists, his godmother’s a kitsune and he could be using illusions to appear like anything he wanted, right?”

“I told you, he can’t even produce a believable illusion,” Crystal rebuked.

“But that’s the double-blind, isn’t it? Like, he could be a really great illusionist and appear completely human, even to touch, right?”

“Why would a powerful kitsune want to hang around a school? Surely they have better things to do.”

Ichiro grinned. “Oh, no, it’s better than that, Holden. Not only am I a nine-tailz, not only is my current form a mere illusion, all of you, the town and Bravura Academy are just my phantasms.”

Crystal glared at Ichiro flatly. “What?”

“Yes, I created this entire charade for my own personal amusement,” Ichiro declared. “All of you are merely puppets, dancing to my tune.”

Andrew on the opposite side of the room put up his hand. “Is that even possible?” he asked once Nakamura-sensei had acknowledged him.

“No!” Crystal interrupted sensei before he could say anything. “We’d know if we were phantasms! Can’t you tell he’s lying? He’s a terrible liar!”

Standing up, Ichiro stretched. “If you need me to prove my power, Crystal, then I will.” Sweeping her gaze over the rest of the students, she stretched out one arm in a grand gesture. “You, Robert.”

He blinked. “What? Call me Bob, damnit!”

“Am I accurate in saying that you would never kiss me in your entire life?”

“Ew!”

“Not even on the cheek?”

“Hell no!”

“Then I compel you to come here and kiss me on the cheek! Obey me, my puppet!”

Bob struggled a little like he didn’t want to get up but some force was making him stand. Extending his cheek towards the boy, Ichiro struggled to maintain her composure as Bob approached step by laboured step, puckered his lips and laid a kiss on her cheek.

Ichiro immediately ducked under the table as Bob picked up her chair and tried to brain her with it.

#

Bob’s fist hit Ichiro’s shoulder with a dull thud. “Ow,” Ichiro said, chuckling so hard that she barely felt any pain, “gomen, gomen… I’m sorry.”

“I don’t kiss girls,” Bob growled, “but I guess the look on Crystal’s face was worth it. Plus one of your cooked dinners for free. I came this close to getting detention, Ichiro.”

They were assembled in the dorm room kitchen while Ichiro was busy preparing meals for a small army of ravenous teenagers. As one of the school’s star cooks, Ichiro was able to make a little money playing dorm mum when she wasn’t working at the food stand. All the profits went into her savings, genetic modification treatments weren’t cheap. “I’m sorry,” Ichiro apologized again, casually flipping an omelette, “I couldn’t help it and you were the only person I thought would go with the prank. Sensei didn’t give you detention? I’d go confess if it’d help.”

“Nah, Nakamura just gave me a warning. He twigged to the prank and let it go, said something about Crystal and the others needing to learn to pay attention.”

“A sensitive would probably be able to tell what was an illusion, even if it was a phantasm,” Ichiro mused.

“You surprised the shit out of me. You are a terrible liar, you know. Besides, that kind of thing isn’t your style.”

“Guess they pushed a little too far.”

“I think Crystal’s got the hots for you.”

Ichiro snorted. “She hates my guts.”

“Hey, my dad says that if a girl treats you like dirt, they like you.”

“Your dad’s been married four times,” Ichiro observed. Finishing up the omelette, she plated it, gave it some garnish and put it in front of him.

“He also knew I was gay when he told me that,” Bob sighed as he picked up his fork and began to eat. “How the fuck do you get this so fuckin’ fluffy?”

“Practice,” Ichiro said, shrugging. “I hope you all can feed yourselves without me.”

 “Wait, you’re leaving? For the whole holidays?” he asked, horror in his eyes.

“Yep, you’re all going to have to learn to fend for yourselves. Oh, who the hell am I kidding, you’ll all gain thirty kilograms from all the fast food by the time I get back. And the dorm will look like someone dropped a bomb in here. I just hope you all remember to shower.”

He didn’t argue.

Chapter 4 – Session 1: Boarding, Not Bored

“Ugh, what you got in here, kid?” the bus driver asked, barely able to hoist Ichiro’s luggage out from the belly of the bus.

Ichiro shrugged, whipping her scarf around her neck despite the heat. “Clothes, couple of books, a few tools, sewing supplies, my ceramic cooking knives…”

“Crikey, planning to get dropped off on some desert island?” he joked.

“I like to keep busy,” Ichiro said defensively as she hefted the handle and began pulling the heavy case behind her. “Thanks for the ride, sir.”

“Have a good one, kid!”

The Sol Suna hovered far above the Skydock Terminal of Darwin International Airport. Vaguely whale-shaped, the skyliner was three hundred meters long with about thirteen decks, not counting sub-levels and maintenance access. That the massive vehicle hovered above the ground at all was a testament to modern technology and engineering. Ichiro couldn’t help but gawk at the beautiful, sleek, organic contours of the massive vessel.

Trundling into customs, the security guard had to help Ichiro hoist her luggage onto the conveyor belt for scanning before checking her boarding pass, ticket and destination. Relieved to step through the scanners without anything beeping at her, she walked through the duty free stores in search of the luggage check and boarding area. Signs were few and far between and she couldn’t see any sign of her mother. It wasn’t until she finally made it out onto the open-air boarding platform that her phone beeped.

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted in Japanese, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder so she could talk on the move while hauling her suitcase.

“Ichiro, did you get to the terminal ok?” he asked in English.

Not sure what was going on, Ichiro switched to English as well. “Yes Dad, bus trip was fine. I’ve found the boarding deck but I can’t see Mum yet. Or the luggage check. The signs around here are really confusing and the last time I saw a crowd this big I was on the other side of the counter.”

“Erm, yes, unfortunately I just got a call from your mother saying she’s been called away on urgent business again. I’m afraid you’ll be on your own for the trip back to Japan.”

Ichiro felt his spirits sink. “Oh.”

“It’ll be ok, she promised to meet us here,” he said, trying to be reassuring. “And I’m sure you can figure out boarding on your own. Do you have enough money for the trip? Things to read?”

“Yes, Dad, I’ve got enough money. I brought some books and stuff, everything will be fine. It’s just… A lot of people, I guess. I’m not that great with crowds.”

“You’ll be fine. Send me a message once you’re on board.”

“Sure,” Ichiro sighed. “Take care, Dad, I’ll see you there.”

Hanging up, she concentrated on tried to make her way to the closest ramp, deliberately not thinking about her mother’s broken promise. When she got to the ramp, a steady line of people was walking down from the ship and into the terminal, with a crewman nodding and smiling to each of them at the top of the ramp onboard. Dithering, Ichiro wasn’t sure whether to try to call his attention and ask what to do or simply walk up the ramp like she knew what she was doing. Her tickets certainly said that she needed to book her bags into the luggage check and there weren’t any signs around. She was starting to regret even bringing her scarf, it couldn’t fit in her bag so she’d just worn it forgetting that this wasn’t a country you could get away with scarves in summer.

Stopping a guy in a Hawaiian shirt who looked like an American tourist, Ichiro bowed in greeting. “Excuse me, sir, do you know where luggage check is?” He looked down at Ichiro and shrugged. “Sorry, kid, I think it’s over there somewhere,” he said, pointing vaguely, “you should be able to follow the signs.”

“Oh, thanks,” Ichiro said, looking to where the man had pointed but unable to make out anything. Dithering, she got out her phone again and tried checking the airport app to find the right terminal but the website was as much of a maze as the airport itself.

“Hello there,” a woman who’d just gotten off the ship greeted her, walking up to Ichiro. “Are you ok?”

Ichiro blushed, shrinking in on herself a bit. This woman was a bit more practically dressed for the hot weather, showing off a number of tattoos. “Um, I’m just trying to find the luggage check and boarding ramp, ma’am,” she said, waving her ticket.

“Hmm,” she said, nodding as she considered the problem. Turning, she yelled up to the crewman at the top of the ramp. “Hey! Anyone up there know where the luggage check is?”

When she didn’t get any immediate attention, Ichiro raised her hand to wave. “Excuse me, sir? I’m looking to board and I’m a little lost, do you know where I should go?”

The crewman finally took notice. “Oh! Uh, one sec, I’ll ask for you,” he called back before taking out his radio to talk to someone. He was sweating a little when he leant back over the railing to call down. “Sorry for the inconvenience, sir! If you follow the terminal hallway around to the other side of the ship, you’ll find luggage check and the boarding ramp. Welcome to the Sol Suna!”

“Thank you, sir!” I called out, bowing slightly out of habit. Turning to the woman, I bowed slightly to her. “Thank you also, ma’am. I better go board. Hopefully I’ll see you on the ship.”

She smiled slightly before waving me off. “No problem, see you later.”

It was a long walk but once she knew where to go, she found the luggage check with ease. The stewardess was all smiles as she scanned Ichiro’s ticket, attached an RFID tag to the handle of her luggage and turned it over to a loading robot for processing. “Don’t worry, once your luggage is processed, a porter robot will take it to your room. If you’d like to tour the ship and get your bearings, it should be in your room by the time you’re done.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Ichiro said, bowing politely before wandering up the boarding ramp.

It was impossible for an engineer not to approach the Sol Suna without a sense of respect and wonder. It simply became more impressive the closer Ichiro came. Upon setting foot aboard, she pulled out her phone to text her father a simple ‘Hi, I’m aboard, you can stop worrying now’ before connecting to the ship’s wi-fi and downloading the passenger’s app. A few seconds later, Ichiro had her earphones on and began her first tour of the ship, guided by the app.

#

Flopping into bed, Ichiro threw her scarf across the room and let herself sink into the soft mattress. The room was small, though all of the rooms seemed to be in the cramped confines, but still had a mini-fridge, wall-screen TV, bathroom and basic necessities. Her luggage sat in the corner with a nicely printed welcome card resting on top of it. There wasn’t any way she could face unpacking right now, so she just left it there and let herself drift into a tired half-sleep.

She was roused by a bleep on her phone. Finally opening her eyes again, she noticed it had gotten dark outside. Fishing her phone out of her pocket, she checked her messages. Attention, passengers of the Sol Suna, the message read, due to an emergency situation, we are recalling all passengers. Please return to the ship to embark as quickly as possible, we are casting off as soon as possible. Thank you for your co-operation.

Ichiro frowned and sat up. There weren’t any alarms or sounds of movement outside, so she opened her door and peeked out. There were a few people moving around outside but nobody running or panicking. Stepping out, she closed and locked the door behind her and began to wander, sending a quick text to her father to let him know they were leaving early for some reason. Finding a corridor that stretched along the windowed outer hull, she peered off to the south, trying to pick out Vollstahl on the horizon. It was remarkably, distressingly, easy.

There were flashes of light coming from Vollstahl, undoubtedly explosions rocking the town. Streaks of light arcing into the sky like tracer bullets. It was strangely eerie for Ichiro to watch without hearing or feeling the booming impacts, after all she knew those buildings, had walked down those streets. Any other year she would have still been there. Her eyes slowly got wider and wider as the situation sunk in.

Looking at her phone, she put her earphones in her ears and quickly dialled Minaba’s number. “Come on, come on! Pick up!” she shouted, quietly praying for an answer. Several people stared at her as they walked past but she ignored them. Looking down, she could see passengers walking quickly towards the disembarkation ramp, it looked like they’d moved the boarding ramp there and were checking people through as quickly as possible.

She breathed a momentary sigh of relief as someone picked up the phone. “Hi! This is Minaba’s phone,” the pre-recorded messages informed jovially, “I’m sorry I’m not at this phone right now, please hold a moment while I check the next phone.”

Ichiro cursed internally. Hope spiked once again as the ring tone bleeped, only to be dashed. “Sorry, I’m not here either, checking the next phone!” Another bleep. “Well, I’m not here either! Darn! Checking the next phone!”

“Damn it, Minaba! Just pick up the phone and tell me…” She trailed off when someone picked up. “Finally! Minaba what the hell is going on over there? Did you guys launch the…”

“Hi! You’ve reached the second layer of Minaba’s phone ring! Congratulations!”

“What? Wait, is this another phone message?”

“Unfortunately, I’m not currently at this phone either right now but keep on hoping! Transferring you to the next phone…”

“No, no, don’t forward me to the next phone! Damn it…” Ichiro was about to continue swearing when she remembered. “Oh, right, Minaba’s suck in the hospital right now,” she said to herself, feeling like a complete idiot as she hung up. Looking around, she saw a girl with a video camera who abruptly turned away but she was distracted when her smartphone’s screen began to flicker and when she looked back the girl was gone.

That was when the PA system chimed a comforting melody. “Everyone, please calmly return to your cabins,” a woman’s voice came over the speakers. “Some of you may have heard that there is an ongoing terrorist attack in the city to the south. Do not be concerned, we are well away from the activity and we are now launching and moving away from it.”

The Captain’s soothing tones just made Ichiro more nervous. The sudden lurch of the ship as it went underway almost made her stumble as she grabbed the railing for balance. Nothing was fine, a skyliner like this isn’t made for sharp turns and they were taking the long way around, pushing the engines as hard as they could. Nervous, Ichiro started gnawing her lower lip, checking the schematics for the Sol Suna she’d downloaded to her phone while on the tour. Her phone was flickering more and more and she felt the hair on her arms crackle from the static in the air.

The vague sense of unease suddenly solidified into horror. Pressing her cheek against the glass, she tried to get a good look down the bow of the ship to see if she could make out anything. It was hard to see and there didn’t appear to be anything ahead but instinct compelled her to only one explanation for the interference in the electronics and the crackle of static as well as the sudden urgency of departure. There was some kind of electric anomaly up ahead, even if it were invisible to the eye and she ship’s instruments, and it was getting stronger which meant they were headed right for it.

Jogging down the halls towards a maintenance hatch, a mad plan was forming in Ichiro’s head. The halls were empty now, most of the passengers obeying the orders of the voice on the speaker. Part of her was screaming that he should let the crew handle it but the flickering of her smartphone was still getting worse. Finally finding a hatch, she took out the multitool she kept in her pocket and began unscrewing the cover. She barely got one screw off before a big hand grabbed her shoulder. She looked up to find the guy in the Hawaiian shirt glaring down at her. “Hey, kid, what do you think you’re doing?”

Ichiro was at a loss for words for a moment before panic set in and before she knew it the truth was tumbling out of her mouth. “The static interference is from some sort of electrical field and we’re heading right for it! If we pass through it, the ship’s instruments could be fried! If I can get to the anterior dorsal fin, I can turn the ship and maybe avoid the epicentre!”

He blinked at her stupidly. “Wait, what?”

They both stumbled as the entire ship shook. Ichiro grabbed the edge of the hatch for balance but the man kept his hold on her. Feeling the hair on the back of her neck standing up, she stared down the hallway a moment before a flash of green lightning rocketed down the hallway, seemingly bouncing between the walls for a split second before slamming into her chest. Launched off her feet, barely sensate, her vision was clouded by a bright orange flash that lingered as an afterimage burnt into her retina. Striking the man in the Hawaiian shirt, she bowled him over, the smell of charred cotton and ozone ushering her into unconsciousness.

#

Noise. An incoherent babble of many voices talking at once. People stomping around, moving quickly. The occasional clatter of equipment or the distinct tearing noise of sticky tape. As awareness returned, she tried to gather the confused mess of conflicting memories scrambled around in her head. Her whole body ached, but even though it hurt the pain was at least something to focus on. A lifeline to draw her back into the world. She vaguely remembered a flash of amber light bright enough to wipe everything else away, the still image of green lightning burned into her memory. The smell of burning and the jolting of being carried somewhere at speed.

Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on a hospital bed in the corner of a busy room with a warm blanket over her. A doctor was arguing vehemently with a set of rich patients who were demanding that their bumps and bruises be treated immediately. The harried doctor kept trying to explain the concept of triage to them as he was treating a poor crewman with a broken arm. There were even more patients waiting behind them. The girl with the camera was documenting the whole thing, occasionally narrating commentary into the microphone but she couldn’t hear what she was saying over the hubbub. The guy in the Hawaiian shirt was nearby but hadn’t noticed that she’d opened her eyes yet, watching the doctor at work and waiting to see if he needed to intervene. She didn’t need the sign on the wall to tell her she was in the infirmary, the antiseptic hospital smell pervaded everything.

Moving a little, trying to decide if she should call attention to herself, she stopped dead. Nothing felt right. The blanket felt heavier than it should, though she could have put that alone down to weakness from injury. One of her shoes was missing, but when she tried to shift her foot it felt like her shoe was several sizes too large. It was easier to pull her foot right out than try to keep it on. Also, her clothes felt loose, like she was swimming in them. The way her hips felt bigger than they should also didn’t help, not to mention the strange sensation of weight at her chest.

It’s a dream, she thought, screwing her eyes shut and not daring to hope. Wake up, idiot! This is just a dream! She told herself. Pinching herself, she winced, feeling her tails twitch and her ears flatten back against her head. Wait, tails? Ears? What the hell?

Slowly sitting up, she looked down at herself and stared, stunned. Her clothes were, indeed, far too large for her now but the swell of her breasts was obvious through her shirt. Her hands looked smaller and the room looked bigger. Her arms were closer together, like her whole torso had shrunk. Her two bushy tails, each curling around so that she could hug them, left no doubt in her mind. She was a kitsune now, and a girl.

A flash of memory hit her like a punch to the temple. Standing inside a circle, amber lightning crackling through it. Akiko crying out for help inside her brain. A smiling yellow-haired kitsune teenager speaking in soft, reassuring, tones. “I’m going to put both of you to sleep. You’ll be someone else for a while and you won’t remember any of this but when you wake up, you and Akiko will be together,” she said in the memory. “D-d-does tha…” The image froze for a moment before coming back to life, her tone changing from reassuring to stern and commanding. “Listen to me. I am Yakyou, your godmother. I crafted this memory when I sealed you in case of an event where the seal was broken prematurely. I apologize for the necessity, it’s inevitable now that I cannot spare you this pain. Your name is Amaya, I was forced to seal you and your sister, Akiko, away. You should be able to hear her voice in your head soon. Do not be afraid, wherever you are I will find you, though I cannot guarantee my help. I believe in you both. Survive.”

It was done in a moment, the memory of a message shoved into her brain all at once. Amaya? Akiko? My name is… My name is Ichiro, isn’t it? Why doesn’t that name feel right?

Because you’re not Ichiro, a second, languid, voice answered. She sounded like she was waking up from a deep slumber.

Amaya’s heart began to race. It was surreal, exciting and frightening all at once. What happened? How had it happened? What’s going on? Her thoughts raced and the world began to spin. The entitled passengers began shouting, demanding attention with high-pitched whines that grated against her fox-like ears. It was all too much, she wanted to scream at them to shut up. She needed to get away!

Slipping quietly off the bed, Amaya landed on her feet next to a maintenance hatch in the corner of the room. She didn’t need tools to pry this one off, it came away easily. She heard the guy in the Hawaiian shirt shout for her to stop as he leapt over the bed to grab her but she was inside the tunnel and crawling away far too fast for him to catch her in time. Once she was around a corner, she knew there was no way for him to follow, he was way too big to fit his shoulders through.

Awesome, Sis! Akiko congratulated her. We probably want to keep moving, I bet he’s looking up the schematics to try to fish us out of here as we speak.

Sis? Amaya said as she kept moving down the tunnel. Akiko, you’re back? We’re back? WE’RE BACK!

Missed you too, Akiko purred fondly, giving her sister a mental hug.

They could hear the chime of the PA reverberate through the walls of the tunnel. Amaya assumed that one of the walls must run close to a hallway. “Attention, this is Captain Fry speaking. All crew are to report to the nearest engineer to assist in making the modifications to the hull. Any and all resources you or the passengers have that may aid in making the hull air tight are hereby requisitioned by my order. This is top priority!”

“What the fuck?” Amaya said aloud. “Why the fuck do we need to be air tight?”

Maybe we sank? Akiko suggested. Crashed into the ocean?

No, if we were underwater we’d just be dead, Amaya mused as she continued moving. We’d hear the water pressure crushing the superstructure and there’d be visible signs of leaking. A skyliner’s pretty air tight to protect the passengers from pressure differential at high altitude but it’s not perfect. Also, they’d be directing passengers to evacuate to the life rafts and such, not scrambling to reinforce the hull. This is weird.

I’m just glad we’re not that idiot Ichiro anymore. Ok, so where are we going? I assume you’re not just moving because I said so.

No, they need supplies and I can help. We can help. We’ve been working on uprights and robots for nearly ten years, right? A skyliner’s got to be simpler than that.

If you say so. Honestly, I wasn’t paying that much attention.

It took some searching but it wasn’t long before they found an exit to an empty room with a bunch of machinery. Amaya quickly identified the pumps, filters and syringes full of binary epoxy resin. “Awesome!” Amaya exclaimed, jumping and clapping her hands. “This is everything we could possibly need to reinforce the hull!” As the excitement passed, however, she had to lean against the wall, feeling a little dizzy.

Are you ok, sis? Amaya asked, sounding concerned. Are you sure you’re up to this?

Doesn’t particularly matter, does it? I can’t stop now; the engineers need these supplies to reinforce the hull. If they need to make the ship air tight, then it needs to happen before we’re all dead. Godmother told us to survive, and I’m going to survive, damnit!

Pushing the dizziness away, Amaya got to work shutting down the pumps, disassembling the control circuits for portability and packing everything into a handy orange workman’s bag that she could push through the tunnels. They were back underway in a few minutes, with Amaya’s smartphone schematics to help guide them to engineering. She wasn’t expecting the guy in the Hawaiian shirt to suddenly burst through the hatch ahead of her but she slipped through his grasp with a startled squeak, grabbing the bag and scrambling away.

“Stop!” he barked. “You don’t understand! We need those components!”

“We need ‘em more, mate!” Amaya called out over her shoulder before disappearing around another corner. She could hear him swearing in the distance.

He’s persistent, Akiko commented, and he found us way too easy. Someone’s helping him, there’ll probably be an ambush wherever you’re going.

It’s ok, engineering’s just up ahead. Once the engineers have these components, the ship will be safe and they’ll be thanking me.

Shoving open the hatch to engineering, Amaya pushed the bag through before crawling out to discover the stunned looks of three engineers. They seemed to be searching the nearby supply crates and storage rooms for the parts they needed. “Hey, what the hell are you doing down here?” the guy in charge demanded, walking over to her. “This is a restricted area! Passengers aren’t…”

He stopped the moment Amaya unzipped the bag and shoved it into his arms. “Here, everything you need to seal the ship plus modify the pressure controls for the double hull.”

A quick sift through the contents of the bag impressed him. “You’re… She’s right, this is everything we need. Where the hell did you get all this?”

Amaya grinned and shrugged. “I disassembled some non-essential systems. Once I heard the announcement, I figured this was top priority.”

“Thanks,” he said curtly before he started handing things out to his subordinates and barking orders. It wasn’t long before they were running in all different directions to disseminate the parts to where they were needed.

The guy in the Hawaiian shirt walked into the room with a large guy in a security uniform who seemed vaguely familiar. Amaya greeted them with a wave and a broad, smug, grin. “Hey, boys! I got the parts to your friends, I’m sure they’re getting this ship all nice and air tight as we speak!”

The guy in the security uniform paused before her, frowning down at her. He was black, obviously ex-military and distinctly unimpressed. The badge on his chest read ‘Capt. Rudyard Holt’. “Do you know where you got those parts?” he asked in a deep, vaguely British, accent.

“Like I told the engineers, I disassembled some non-essential systems,” Amaya admitted, confused.

“Those non-essential systems were the machines that operate the ship’s climate control systems. No climate controls, no air conditioning. No air conditioning, no CO2 scrubbers. We’ve got much bigger problems losing those than it just getting too hot in here.”

Amaya stared, stunned. “What? No! I-I know what I’m doing! I’m an engineer, I wouldn’t do that, I’d know… I was helping…” Her hands began to shake and she was getting dizzy again. She couldn’t help but sniffle as tears rolled down her cheeks.

Rudyard sighed. “I’ve diverted engineers to fix climate control. They should have all the spare parts they need, it’ll just take time but I don’t know what I should do with you yet. For now, I’m not letting you out of either my sight or Detective Reynolds here. Consider yourself in custody.”

OH HELL NO! Akiko’s voice shouted in Amaya’s mind. Out of the way, Amaya, it’s MY turn!

Amaya felt Akiko’s will shoulder her aside. She didn’t mind, all she wanted to do was crawl away and stew in her own uselessness. Their body shivered as it became even more slender, hair rippling as it shifted from black with ice-blue tips on her ears and tails to white with bright scarlet tips. When it was done, Akiko grinned. “You’ll never take me alive, coppers!” she declared, diving for the maintenance hatch.

“Oh no you don’t!” Holt growled, leaping to grab her. His hands closed around her two tails while she was still halfway through and he heaved her out, dangling her in the air.

Akiko screamed and kicked furiously. “EEEEEEEE! Pervert! Hentai! Hentai!”

Focusing, Akiko looked over Holt’s shoulder and glared at a point in the wall. The image came together easily in her head, the metal suddenly ripping with an audible screech as the pressure ruptured the hull. Beyond the hole was a spinning void full of stars as the air in the room was sucked out into space. Then it happened, or rather appeared to happen, just as she imagined. It was a rough and imperfect image, as rushed as Akiko was. It felt as if the air was being sucked away but nothing moved. Despite the spinning stars, there was no feeling of movement to disorient the viewers who weren’t in on the trick.

Still, Reynolds backed away, startled and someone outside the door screamed a high-pitched wail of alarm. “HULL BREACH! WE’RE ALL DEAD! Uh, wait, isn’t that an interior wall?”

One of Akiko’s kicks finally managed to hit Holt’s arm just behind the elbow while he was momentarily distracted. It didn’t hurt but the blow was in just the right place to numb his arm, letting her slip through his fingers as he cursed. “Ha-ha! Outta my way!” Akiko giggled as she scampered between Reynold’s legs and skipped lightly through the door, nearly running over the girl who was waiting just outside the door with her camera.

“You’ll never take me alive!” she called out, grinning wickedly as a million diabolical plans raced through her mind.

You can read more about this session on Thrythlind, our GM’s, blog at: http://thrythlind.blogspot.com.au/2017/09/away-with-team-air...

Chapter 5: Session 2 – Have You Met Lydia? She’s Not the Tattooed Lady.

Lydia stretched, placing her data reader on the bedside table as she came out of her book-induced fugue. A quick glance at her clock told her that she’d been reading for more than a day, so she slid her long legs over the side of the bed and stood. A quick check of her reflection told her all that she needed to, her long blonde hair still sat perfectly in place, framing and accentuating the blue marks on her face. Her clothes were a little wrinkled but not unpresentable, after all she’d barely moved for the last twenty-four hours.

Slipping out into the hallway, she blinked as a small team of panicked engineers ran past her, huffing and puffing. Wondering what was going on, she proceeded down a branching hallway towards a babble of voices. Rounding the corner to the medical bay, she paused when she saw the small crowd haranguing the doctor.

“I demand that you treat this scrape on my arm right now!” an overweight woman wearing the most expensive designer clothes made in her size demanded. “If this gets infected, I’m going to sue the company! This is disgraceful!”

“Ma’am,” the doctor tried to explain patiently, “I have people with burns and broken bones that require treatment now. If you care to wait in your cabin, we will be around as promptly as possible to tend to you.”

“Do you know who we are?” the man standing next to her asked indignantly.

Lydia decided she’d had enough, slipping in between the doctor and the crowd smoothly. “Yes, I’m sure the doctor here is very cognizant of who you all are and your importance to the company. After all, people of your stature shouldn’t be standing in line like this! I’m sure if you wait in the luxury of your cabin, she can come wait on you at your convenience.”

It took a moment for the man to process that. “Oh… Oh, why yes, of course! Come Petunia, we can wait in the comfort of our suite, maybe get some room service.”

“Yes, let’s,” she mumbled, letting herself be escorted away by her husband. Apparently, her scrape wasn’t feeling so bad anymore.

“Thank-you,” the doctor sighed in relief. “I’m sorry but I need to get back to my real patients.”

Lydia smiled at her. “My pleasure, doctor…”

Pausing when she heard a sudden screeching noise coming towards her from down the hall, Lydia turned to find a teenage white-haired kitsune girl running at full tilt past her, yelling into a small digital camera. Behind her, tromping along at a sprint in combat boots, was a handsome black man in a security uniform with a name tag that read ‘Rudyard Holt’ and a college-age girl puffing along weakly some distance behind.

“Hey world!” Akiko yelled frantically into the camera with the screen turned to face her so she could keep herself jerkily in frame. “This is Akiko and I’m currently running towards the kitchen to record another exciting episode of REGULAR ORDINARY SWEDISH KITSUNE MEAL TIME!!! I’m not the cook my sister Amaya is but I HAVEN’T STOLEN FOOD FOR OVER TEN YEARS and MY HANDS ARE SHAKING!!! So I’m going to find everything made of chocolate, throw it together and eat it!”

“That’s my camera!” the college-age girl whined, gasping for breath.

“Get back here, you little scamp!” Rudyard growled.

Lydia looked to the doctor, shrugged and set off running after the group. It looked like they were having some kind of fun!

Coming to a corner, Akiko hopped as she felt the cuffs of her pants slipping under her heels. “Stupid boy pants!” she swore, spinning around as she rolled, pulling them off and flinging them at her pursuers. Rudyard ducked adroitly, while Lydia bobbed to one side, leaving the pants to sail far over them and hit the doctor, wrapping around her face.

“Whoops!” Akiko said, giggling as she continued to run. Hey, Amaya! she called out mentally to her sister. Where the hell is the kitchen on this glorified blimp?

Leave me alone, Amaya moaned.

You’re still sulking? Come on, anyone could have made that mistake! It’s not like we could have killed anyone, right? Akiko paused for an answer that didn’t come. Wait, sis, we couldn’t have killed anyone. Tell me we couldn’t have killed anyone!

Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Rudyard was falling behind, talking into his radio. Some new blonde girl, however, took the corner with a small leap, hopping off the wall to keep pace. Even worse, she was actually catching up on the straight.

Screaming, Akiko took a chance and barrelled through the nearest door, nearly knocking a woman in uniform over before planting her face directly between another woman’s breasts. Specifically, the woman covered in tattoos that had helped her get onboard. She felt that they were falling as the woman she’d hit let off a high squeak. Just as suddenly, Akiko felt weightless. There was a puff of smoke, a wrenching feeling of movement in a direction she’d never felt before and suddenly she was drifting in a flat grey void.

A grey void without oxygen, that stretched as far as they eye could see in every direction.

Akiko’s breath burst out of her lungs as she peddled her limbs like she was trying to tread water. Looking around frantically, she saw the tattooed woman within arm’s reach and managed to grab her, wrapping her arms around her waist to hold on for dear life. The moment they were touching, she gasped for breath and found she could breathe again. “Are you ok?” the woman asked with a kind of stray detachment.

Looking up into the woman’s face, Akiko blinked. She had red markings on her face, a lot like theirs. “Th-thank you, Sempai,” Akiko gasped, her lungs desperate for air.

“Semp…? Oh, well… Whatever I guess,” she said, turning to look over her shoulder. “I don’t want to alarm you but I think the ship might be about to hit us. Brace yourself.”

“What?” Akiko cried, looking around the woman to see the Sol Suna drifting towards them. She could see Rudyard through the window of the bridge standing next to the woman in uniform she’d almost run over while the speedy blonde woman and the camera girl stared at them in horror. Rudyard said something to the woman in uniform, who seemed confused about what intercom she should be shouting into but whatever she said seemed to work as the ship slowly ground to a halt.

“Well, that’s good. Are you ok? Why were they chasing you?” the tattooed woman asked.

Akiko sighed. “Um, well, my sister Amaya was trying to help. Something about making the hull air tight. But she made some sort of mistake and everyone got mad and now she’s sulking.”

“What kind of mistake?”

“Um, something about taking apart the climate controls? I don’t really know.”

She frowned. “Do you know if they have enough air in there for a while?”

“Air? Um, let me see if Amaya’s talking now,” Akiko told her. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on directing her thoughts to her sister. Hey, pimple-face, Amaya prodded, stopped feeling sorry for yourself yet? We’re in a pickle here.

I do NOT have pimples! Amaya snapped.

I know but at least you’re talking now. Do you know if the people inside the ship have enough air without whatever dingus you tore apart?

Amaya was silent for long enough that Akiko wondered if she were sulking again. They should be fine; the engineers should have replacement parts for the climate controls.

“Amaya says they should be fine,” Akiko finally answered.

“Oh, good,” the woman sighed. “I’m just going to take a nap, then. Once I’m rested up, I’ll get us back onto the ship.”

Akiko squeaked. “Rest? How the heck can you rest out here, Sempai?”

“What? It’s just the void between realities. It’s not like there’s anything else out here. As long as you hold onto me, you should be able to breathe… Well, unless I fall asleep, then you’ll start suffocating again…”

“What? No!”

“Oh, yes, right, that would be bad,” she mused, seemingly distracted. “My name’s Aislin, by the way. Aislin Newell.”

“Akiko. My sister’s Amaya.”

“I see,” Aislin nodded sagely. “How much do you know about magic?”

Akiko smirked. “Well, I’m a pretty good illusionist. Amaya doesn’t pay as much attention to practice, though, she prefers cooking and drawing and fixing stuff.”

Gee, I’m sorry for having, you know, interests outside of pranking people, Amaya grumbled.

“All right, we can work with this,” Aislin said. “I’m going to teach you a little bit of magic. Just enough so that you can keep the spell up that’s allowing you to breathe in the void while I nap.”

Akiko waggled her tails excitedly. “Really? Cool! You’re a mage, then? Like from the families?”

“The word you’re looking for is magus and I’m a demon,” she answered casually, like it was nothing, “but I work for the gods. It’s complicated. I guess you could call it a family but I’m not sure what that means to mortals. Not that it matters. Did your teacher manage to impart to you the basics of magic or are they just training your natural talents?”

“Um, some of my friends know magic but I never had the knack for it,” Akiko admitted, blushing. “Never was good at sensitive exercises. But I know the basics; manipulation for doing things, sensitive for sensing the world and, uh, metabolic for altering living things.”

“Right, what we’re doing here is a sensitive practice,” Aislin said, taking a lecturing tone. “Magic is the ability to borrow power from someone else, usually a god or demon. There is high magic and low magic but in this case we’re going to be dealing with high magic. Technically, a skilled magus can contact an immortal from anywhere to borrow a bit of their power but, thankfully since you’re a beginner, this will be much easier with us in physical contact.”

“Wait, just anyone can connect with you telepathically and borrow your powers?” Akiko asked incredulously.

“Well, they can borrow the, oh what’s that mortal term… Circuitry, I think? They can borrow the part of my mind that can shape my own life-force and use it to shape their own life-force into the desired effect. I can lend you my ability but you still take the pain. Not that there’ll be much effort on your part in this case, you’re just taking the energy that I’ve already set in motion and maintaining it. Close your eyes, concentrate, centre yourself then push your awareness into mine. We’re in physical contact, so that shouldn’t be hard.”

Nodding, Akiko closed her eyes and concentrated. She could feel her chakra flowing through her limbs, to where her skin came into contact with Aislin. Flowing down through the flood, her awareness slipped into the demon’s mind, which came into her mind as the image of a warm, scaly, cavern filled with brightly glowing circles and runes.

That’s it, Aislin’s mental voice encouraged. It should be easy to find the right rune, it’s the only one currently active.

She was right, Akiko could see it glowing brightly in the middle of the cavern. Found it.

Good. Hold that symbol in your mind. Copy it perfectly and hold it in your memory and keep holding it. As long as you can see that symbol in your mind’s eye, you will be able to breathe. Understand?

Yes, Akiko answered. She stared at the symbol until it was burned into her brain. Amaya’s awareness also watched, mentally tracing every line and contour until it was etched into her neurons. As her awareness came back to her own body, Akiko could see the rune in her head, burning in amber light.

“Good,” Aislin sighed, relaxing, “I’m going to nap for a bit now.”

Akiko nodded, vowing to hold onto that spell forever if she had to.

Chapter 6 – The ‘A’ In A-Team Stands for ‘Away’, Right?

Finally stirring from her slumber after what felt like hours to Akiko, Aislin looked down at the kitsune still clinging to her and marvelled. “Oh, you’re still alive. That’s good, I guess.”

Akiko glared at her, ears flattening to her crown. “What do you mean, you guess?”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to hold on to the spell that long,” Aislin explained. “Honestly I expected you to be dead by the time I woke up. So that’s good.”

“Then why didn’t you teleport us back to the ship?”

“I’ve been holding all the air inside the ship until they could get it air tight,” Ailin answered with a shrug. “Throw in the sudden teleportation and I was reaching my limit. It wouldn’t have done anyone any good if I’d just passed out once we were back on board.”

“Oh,” Akiko grumbled. “Do you have something against mortals, Sempai?”

“Hmmm? Oh, mortals! No, I don’t have anything against them, they can be adorable when they try to visualize four dimensional objects. It’s just that they’re not going to be around long enough to really matter.” She plucked a piece of paper that had been folded into the shape of a butterfly and attached itself to her jacket. Unfolding it, she read whatever message was inside.

“What’s that?”

“Butterfly paper. It’s a way to pass messages, blondie must have sent it. I didn’t realize there was a goddess on board already, that’ll make things easier. Oh dear, they want me to teleport us back to the brig, apparently a Mr. Holt is asking to have you delivered to him.”

Akiko cringed. “Well, better the brig than out here waiting to die.”

“That’s the spirit,” Aislin said, patting the kitsune on the head. “You might just prove to be interesting. If you manage to live long enough to get all nine tails.”

“Um, if she’s a goddess and you’re a demon won’t that cause problems?”

Aislin blinked. “What? Oh, no! Immortals probably aren’t what you think we are, we’re just a highly evolved species with extremely advanced technology and innate psychic abilities. The gods aren’t the good guys and the demons aren’t the bad guys, both sides have good and bad people, just like everyone else.”

Before she could say another word, Akiko felt another lurch of movement in that strange non-dimensional space before alighting on the cool floor of the security station on the Sol Suna. Kneeling she patted the ground thankfully and allowed herself to let go of the spell. “Oh, thank you, sweet artificial terra firma,” she said to the wonderfully solid deck plating.

Rudyard grabbed her by the collar of her oversized jacket and lifted her up to face him. “Remember me?” he asked in his deep, booming, voice.

“Ah-ha-ha… Sorry?” Akiko apologized, ears flat against her head as she gave him her best wide, innocent, eyes.

“Sorry’s not going to cut it,” he said, letting her down on the ground.

Looking around him at the indignant college girl waiting with arms crossed by the door, Akiko skipped playfully over to her. Placing the camera into her hands, the kitsune grinned. “Hi cutie! Thanks for lending me your camera!”

She was so surprised that she almost dropped it. “Wha…? You stole it, you little…” she sputtered.

“No need to thank me,” Akiko interrupted her with a pat on the shoulder, closing her eyes. “I’m going now, catch you later!”

The camera girl swore but managed to get her camera up as Akiko’s hair rippled, darkening to blue-black while the tips of her ears lightened to ice blue. When she opened her eyes again they were vibrant cobalt blue. Amaya blinked a few times, suddenly back in control faced with a camera lens. Looking down, she noticed she wasn’t wearing any pants and squeaked, ears flattening against her head again as she pulled down on the hem of her now oversized shirt to try to cover more of herself.

“Hey there,” a new feminine voice said, “maybe you can wear this?”

Amaya looked around to find a blonde woman smiling down at her. She had long legs, gorgeous blue eyes, perfect hair and lips that begged to be kissed. Her face had blue marks on it that looked a little like Aislin’s. She was holding out a skirt that looked like it would fit, having seemingly pulled it out of thin air. Amaya felt herself turning red, vaguely remembering this woman chasing Akiko earlier. “I, um, ah, gl… I mean… Oh gosh. Ah, thank you,” she mumbled meekly, taking the garment.

The blonde squealed. “Oooh! You’re just adorable! I’m Lydia, Goddess of Desire.”

Blushing furiously, Amaya turned the skirt around in her hands, trying to work out how to put it on. After a minute, Lydia took pity on her and showed her where the snaps on the waistband were concealed. After that, it didn’t take her long to get the garment in place, for whatever good it did. She felt more comfortable and she’d always loved skirts but her legs were still exposed.

“Aw, hell,” Rudyard sighed, holding his face in his hand. “You know what, I don’t even care. Kid, you were the one that disassembled the climate controls. As far as I’m concerned, you’re still under arrest.”

Amaya cringed, looking down at her feet. “I’m sorry, I… I wasn’t thinking straight. It was a stupid mistake and I should have known better, I really don’t know what happened. I just wanted to help so badly and I had this really bad headache. I wasn’t in my right mind.”

Rudyard grunted, pausing to consider his options. “Well you did get the parts to get the hull sealed quickly. Tell you what, we’re going to do a work-release scheme. I’m going to hand you over to the chief engineer, if you do exactly what he tells you I won’t throw you in the brig.”

Amaya looked up, her ears suddenly shooting to the ceiling. “Really? Awesome!” she exalted, hopping into the air.

“WOAH!” Aislin shouted suddenly. “Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop the airship! Full reverse!”

The woman in uniform that Akiko had nearly run down before running into Aislin looked to the demon. Amaya noted that her nameplate read ‘Cpt. Hattie B. Frye’. “I’m sorry, why?” she asked.

“Didn’t you see that? Please, order the full reverse. Don’t bring her around, just hit the forward thrusters or whatever you do!”

Curious, the captain gave the order through her radio. It wasn’t long before they could feel the ship slowing down, forces pulling them back before slowly changing direction.

The security office stood on the floor overlooking the recreational pool on the top deck of the skyliner. The ceiling itself was a large, oval, glass dome that revealed the grey void outside. Not long after they reversed, the flat, endless, grey brightened to sky blue with fluffy white clouds drifting overhead.

“Full stop!” the captain ordered through the radio. “Is that it? Are we home?”

“Doubtful,” Aislin answered. “Actually, extremely improbable. More likely we’re looking at another shard with an Earth-like atmosphere. Most known shards do, anyway. Besides, as you can see, if we move too far in any direction we’ll lose the… Oh, how can I say this so that you’ll understand. We’ll lose the ‘attunement’ to this shard if we move the ship.”

“Shards? What is that grey void anyway?”

Aislin squeezed the bridge of her nose. “The void is… Well, really this is nice and easy, the void is sort-of-proto-stuff. It’s not even really anything. But if you think of primordial ooze as not-life or something that’s not yet alive, that’s not-thing that can become thing.”

“She’s lousy at explaining things,” Rudyard mumbled.

Amaya nodded. “You should hear her bedside manner.”

“Anyway,” Aislin continued, “this is still good news. I can move small groups of people from the ship down to the shard. Unfortunately, I can only move about six people, maybe some cargo, but I can’t move the whole ship. That means I can’t get us back to Earth easily.”

“Can she help?” Amaya asked, pointing to Lydia.

“While I’d be happy to,” Lydia answered, “unfortunately I don’t have the ability to teleport yet. Much less move a whole ship through the void.”

“Shame. So this ‘shard’ is like what? Another planet,” Rudyard said.

“Not that big,” Aislin said, shaking her head.

“But the other world metaphor is still apt,” Lydia broke in. “There could be nearly anything out there. Alien ecologies, flora, fauna, immortal technology…”

“She’s right,” Aislin admitted, “there might even be maps or directions that will get us back to Earth. I wasn’t expecting to hit one of these so soon, we’ve lucked out this time.”

“Even if there isn’t, we can look for supplies,” Rudyard said. “I’ll go grab some weapons and one of my men to accompany us down to the shard.”

Aislin shrugged. “Sure, it’ll take me a bit to draw the circle I’ll need to bounce us down there. If you don’t mind, I’ll borrow Amaya to help me.”

“I’m coming too,” Lydia, said, stepping forward. “I’m a zoologist, I’d like to examine the shard’s ecosystem and take samples.”

“Oooh! Can I come?” the girl with the camera asked enthusiastically.

“I don’t know, miss,” Rudyard answered in mollifying tones.

“But I’m a journalist…”

“Um, sir,” Amaya interrupted. “If it’s going to be a scientific expedition, if there’s anything down there, Lydia will need someone to document our findings.”

Rudyard sighed. “Ok, yeah, you’ve got a point, kid. What’s your name, miss?”

“Aeryn,” the camera girl introduced herself, “Aeryn Lee.”

“Nice to meet you, Aeryn. Aislin’s taking responsibility for Amaya here. If you want to come, it’s Lydia’s job to take care of you. Deal?”

“Deal,” Lydia nodded.

#

The bay windows of the forward observation deck had a commanding view of the chunk of rock floating in the void like an island in a great, endless, ocean. The flat top of the rock was covered in greenery, forests of enormous trees surrounding patches of clear lawns and the remnants of ancient buildings. As distracting as it was, Amaya focused on drawing the circle just how Aislin had described to her. One little mistake could be fatal.

“Circles aren’t really magic,” the demon lectured, “they’re shortcuts to help us focus our life-force in the right direction. Don’t look down on them just because they’re not inherently magical themselves, though, they make doing magic far easier than having to wing it.”

“I read the theory at school,” Amaya said, “but I’ve never heard of a twelve-pointed circle before. Or anything this complex.”

Wiping her brow, Amaya looked at the three-pointed circles inscribed on the walls. The floor was covered in a large twelve-pointed circle that came close to brushing the walls of the room with another four-pointed circle inside it. The points she was referring to were the points on the circle that were joined by lines inside the circle. The classic example Amaya had learned in school was the five-pointed pentagram. Rather than being joined by straight lines, however, Aislin had insisted that the points of the circle be joined by crescents, one tip at the centre with the other tip at each of the points that defined the circle to create a spiral-like pattern or a stylized vortex.

“It’s all about the type of energy, how we need to use that energy and how long we want the circle to last,” Aislin explained. “First, the circle has to be permanent so we can’t take shortcuts. The four-point circle keys to the actual shape of the power we’re using but we’re transporting mortals as well as myself, a demon, and Lydia, a god. That means we need to be able to translate vitae, demonic life-force, mana, godly life-force, and mortal life-force. In this case chakra for you and chi for humans. So, we have to scale Lydia’s mana down by a factor of four to match my vitae’s factor of three, hence the twelve points. The three-point circles on the walls stabilize the whole system to nullify the stress of channelling life-force through the pattern.”

“And the crescents? Wouldn’t straight lines be easier?”

“I’m the Demon of Vacuum. My energy doesn’t like travelling in straight lines, it flows in spirals, like a whirlpool. We work with the energy, not against it. Remember, we’re essentially hard coding a spell into reality, like an electric circuit that we pump our life-force into to power it, but it’s also like a mnemonic. The symbolism is important.”

When they were done, Amaya felt exhausted and they hadn’t even been down to the planet yet. Rudyard was waiting patiently outside the room, double-checking the ammunition in his carbine with one of his men with him, Officer Makon Darring. Lydia, Aeryn and Captain Frye were also waiting, though naturally the captain wasn’t going into danger.

“What can we expect down there?” Rudyard asked, surveying the terrain through the bay window.

“Anything,” Lydia answered, shrugging. “A shard this small could have been built for any number of purposes. The trees are a good sign that there’ll be wildlife down there, though.”

“Built?” Rudyard asked incredulously.

“Oh yes,” Aislin said nonchalantly. “Our species do it all the time. If there’s a gate here to Nirvana or Yomi, we’re saved. It’s unlikely but possible.”

“No time like the present,” he said, hefting his gun.

Aislin shepherded everyone into the four-pointed circle in the middle of the room. “Watch out for the smoke,” she warned.

“Smoke?” Rudyard asked, moments before they were engulfed.

Amaya felt the same wrenching sensation of movement before the smoke cleared, revealing the bright, sunny, green landscape stretching out around them. In the distance high above, she could see the Sol Suna hovering in place, glistening in light that wasn’t coming from any sun. A gentle breeze cleared the smoke quickly and it was nice to breathe in the fresh, pine-scented, air.

“Don’t get distracted,” Rudyard reminded them. “Darring, watch our six.”

The security guy nodded to his boss, turning to visually sweep the forest behind us.

Pricking her ears up, Amaya took a look around. It wasn’t long before she spotted something strange in the grass. “Mr. Holt, sir,” she called, pointing at some strange rock formations near the edge of the clearing, “is that a statue?”

“Let’s check it out,” he said, waving for everyone to advance while he covered the treeline.

Amaya knelt next to the shards of stone. It had been an amazingly realistic statue of a wolf, once. Someone or something had broken it apart and left the pieces scattered around.

“Cockatrice,” Lydia muttered like it was a dirty word.

“Say what?” Rudyard asked.

“A cockatrice is a bird that can encase things in stone,” the goddess explained. “This is how they hunt. Once their prey is trapped, they break open the shell to get at the meat inside.”

Amaya shivered.

“Lovely,” Aislin said, dropping her backpack to retrieve her tattooing needle from inside. “Amaya, you need to tattoo the circle onto my back so I extract us the moment anything goes wrong.”

“Um, ok,” Amaya gulped as she was handed the electric needle.

Taking off her shirt to expose her back for the tattoo, Aislin looked up and around. “Wait, where’s Lydia?”

Everyone immediately turned to where she’d been standing a moment ago to find her gone. “Shit!” Rudyard swore, glancing to where Aeryn was still recording the stone shell. “Darring, stick with the civilians. I’ll find Lydia and bring her back.”

“Roger, sir,” he complied.

While Rudyard stalked off into the bushes, Amaya considered the soft flesh of Aislin’s back and the sharp needle of the tattoo gun. “Shouldn’t I, like, disinfect you or something first?”

“For mortals, sure,” Aislin answered while she finished drawing the circle on a piece of paper, “but I’m a demon. I can’t get an infection.”

“Oh,” Amaya said, taking the drawing and looking it over. It was much like the four-pointed circle they’d inscribed on the ship. Holding the piece of paper next to Aislin’s back, Amaya concentrated on the circle, picturing every detail. Chakra welled up from her core as she held her hand out, allowing the amber energy to flow out of her. A dimly glowing illusory amber circle faded into sight on Aislin’s back. It wasn’t a true circle, just a guide for the ink, but it was better than fumbling about as she set to work.

“Does this hurt?” Amaya asked when she was halfway done.

“Like a cat riding down curtains with their claws,” Aislin quipped.

“Oh, ouch.”

“Wait a minute,” Aeryn said, suddenly looking around, “wasn’t I supposed to stay with Lydia?”

“Actually, as the resident normal, she was supposed to stay with you,” Aislin corrected. “Don’t worry dear, you’ll likely die as a result of the mistake.”

Aeryn frowned. “Miss Newell, you really need to do better on comforting people.”

“Lydia shouldn’t have run off,” Amaya said, slowly completing the circle. “That’s on her. There we are, Sempai, all done.”

“Why’d we have to do that down here?” Aeryn asked, holding the camera on Aislin. “Wouldn’t it have been safer to do that on the ship?”

“It only works for our trip back to the ship from this shard,” the demon informed her, brushing her coat.

“Oh… But isn’t that kind of permanent? We’re not staying here, are we?”

“Eventually, my body will reject the ink. It takes a while, should be plenty long enough for us to explore this place but the tattoo will fade in time. We should track Mr. Holt and Lydia, see if we can join back up before they get themselves into trouble.”

“She wouldn’t have gone looking for the cockatrice, would she?” Aeryn asked plaintively. No-one answered her.

It only took a few moments of searching for Amaya to find Holt’s boot prints. “Over here,” she called to the rest.

“Good work,” Darring congratulated her. “Guess being part fox is worth somethin’.”

“Watch the right flank,” Aislin ordered as she walked past in the direction of the tracks. She had her hexagonal-patterned coat on again. As she walked, a snake-like thing slithered from the left cuff, inserting itself into her palm so that she could grasp it like a pistol. A similar creature slid out of her right cuff, though this one was a finely honed, organic-looking, blade.

“Yes, ma’am,” Darring said, impressed as he kept pace with her on her right.

“Amaya, watch the rear,” Aislin continued. “Aeryn, you stay in the middle.”

Amaya let Aeryn pass before following behind, keeping her eyes, ears and what little extrasensory perception she had alert for anything.

#

Holt sighed in relief when he finally found Lydia kneeling in a small clearing about ten feet across, examining the ground. “There you are, I didn’t think I’d need to tell you not to run off,” he growled.

The far-too-beautiful goddess glanced in his direction and shrugged. “I wasn’t in any danger,” she said dismissively. “More to the point, look at this!”

Rudyard leaned over to where she was holding her hand, fingers spread, in the middle of a small pothole in the ground. It took a moment for him to process that it wasn’t a pothole, it was several large indentations in the dirt, one big one with four smaller ones at the front, big enough that the tips of her pinkie and thumb only reached the edge of the pattern. Then it clicked. That wasn’t a pothole, it was a massive wolf paw print.

“Lydia,” he said in low, calm and even tones. “I think it’s time we re-joined the group.”

The low, rumbling, growl from behind him made him freeze. Slowly turning his head, he saw an enormous pair of narrow, shining green, eyes glaring at him over a bush. The giant wolf was five feet tall at the shoulder, baring fangs as long as his forearm. There were old scars on its face and its fur seemed to shift colours with the greenery around it as it bowed low, muscles bunching for the attack.

Holt knocked Lydia out of the way as the enormous wolf leapt forward, roaring. Throwing himself down on his back, he whipped his carbine up, unleashing two controlled bursts of fire as the wolf leapt over his prone body. Blinking, he tried to process the fact that the wolf barely even flinched, not even whining in pain as it landed and turned to snarl at him again.

“Watch out!” Lydia snapped, grabbing Holt’s shoulder and dragging him a foot to the right just as a transparent blur of teeth snapped at his left, missing my millimetres. Raising her hand, a four-foot-long glowing blue blade ignited from a strangely shaped bronze hilt that suddenly appeared in her grasp. “Decoy wolf! The image you can see is just an illusion!”

The image of the wolf charged again, bounding for Rudyard, but Lydia wasn’t fooled. She had her eyes fixed on the almost imperceptible blur that was the real wolf, holding her manablade between her and it. Darting forward, she screamed, loud enough to make the beast flinch as she struck, slicing her blade through the earth in front of it. Startled by the sudden flash of fire and heat as the blade ignited the grass and the unearthly screams of its prey, the wolf squeaked in alarm before turning tail and running off into the woods, its illusion disappearing moments before it struck Rudyard.

“Um, wow,” Rudyard mumbled as he breathed from his sitting position. “Thanks for the save there.”

“No problem,” she said with her usual bubbly enthusiasm as she helped him to his feet.

Brushing himself, Rudyard paused for a moment as he considered the beautiful woman before him, looking back at him with an innocent smile on her face and holding what looked like an energy sword right out of a cartoon. Then a noise intruded into the moment. “Uh, do you hear that cracking sound?”

The moment he said it, the ground he’d been sitting on a moment before caved in, spraying dust and dirt into the air. When they were done coughing and sputtering, Lydia held her manablade into the hole, revealing a metallic corridor spotted with corrosion stretching off in two directions below.

Rudyard was still staring at the hole he’d almost fallen into when Aislin and the rest of the group burst into the clearing, puffing.

“I saw a ghost dog!” Aeryn exclaimed. “It ran right through a tree! I saw it!”

Lydia winced. “That was a decoy wolf, not a ‘ghost dog’. Please don’t use that term again.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s offensive.”

“Oh. Okay, I guess.”

“Well, at least you’re both fine,” Aislin said, stepping up next to the hole with Rudyard while Darring kept an eye on the perimeter. Kneeling, she peered down the corridor. “If it wasn’t made of metal, I’d almost say it looked Roman.”

“Yeah,” Rudyard agreed, shaking himself. “Do you think we should take a look?”

“Can’t hurt,” she said, hopping down onto the rubble below. “Amaya! You’re with me, remember?”

“Right!” Amaya agreed, hopping down into the hole as well. Seeing how dark it was, she held up her hand and summoned a ball of amber light, setting it to drift around them as they explored. Immediately, they both caught sight of some writing on a nearby wall.

Brushing the cobwebs and dust away, Aislin muttered to herself for a few moments. “I can’t read it,” she said, stunned.

“Well, ok,” Amaya said, shrugging. “I mean this place looks ancient…”

“No, you don’t understand,” the demon said, wide-eyed. “I’m connected to Ashvattha, the network that pools the collective knowledge of all of the gods. If I can’t read this, no god that exists or has ever existed in the forty-thousand years of immortal civilization can!”

 

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You can read more about this session on Thrythlind, our GM’s, blog at: http://thrythlind.blogspot.com.au/2017/10/the-shiny-red-cand...

Chapter 7: Session 3 – Be Sure to Name All Redshirts

“Here’s your purse, miss,” Malcom grumbled as he handed over the expensive leather bag to a particularly cadaverous-looking forty-something woman.

“Why, thank you detective,” Ms. Bellard croaked between puffs on her cigarette, deliberately ignoring the no smoking sign behind her head. “It’s so good to find someone competent on this ship’s staff.”

“I’m not… You know what, never mind ma’am,” he sighed. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you looking for your purse down in engineering?”

“Well, when it went missing I thought one of the ne’er-do-wells on the crew had taken it,” she whispered conspiratorially. “After all, why have ‘employees only’ sections cordoned off the ship unless they’re hiding things from us?”

“Maybe so that the professionals can get on with business without passengers getting in the way?” Malcom suggested.

“Well, that’s what they say,” she replied, snorting derisively. “Tell me, Mr. Reynolds, do you by any chance know where we are at the moment?”

A chill went down Malcom’s spine. “Not exactly right at this moment, ma’am. I’m sure the Captain will make an announcement when she’s good and ready.”

“Oh, her,” she scoffed. “I’m really not sure what the owners are thinking hiring a woman captain…”

Malcom thanked whoever was looking over him the moment his phone began chiming, “Ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring, Ashvhatta phone!” “Um, please excuse me, ma’am,” Malcom apologized before fleeing the room as he fumbled with his phone. Closing the door, he breathed a sigh of relief and looked to a nearby porter, ignoring his phone for a moment. “How do you stand them?” he asked the porter plaintively.

The porter looked behind him to make sure no-one was about before answering. “Whiskey,” he admitted.

Malcom smirked as he finally answered his phone. “Reynolds, PO’d PI.”

“Yes, Malcom,” Aislin’s voice came over the line, “we need you to scrounge up some more bodies and bigger guns. Let me know when you’re ready, I’ll pop up and bring you down.”

“Trouble?”

“Oh, you know, wildlife,” Aislin mumbled distractedly, like she was listening to another conversation in the background. “Displacer wargs, cockatrice... Oh, Mr. Holt is also requesting, to quote, ‘a great big fucking gun’. He suggests asking one of his men to let you into his personal armoury.”

“Gimme twenty minutes,” Malcom told her before hanging up.

Five minutes and a brief explanation later, Malcom, Captain Frye and two of Rudyard’s guards were looking into a room that would have been the envy of any American SWAT team. Two fifty calibre heavy machine guns rested on a table in the middle of the room, freshly cleaned and ready. Racks of assault rifles, shotguns and military pistols adorned the walls, all locked away and unloaded. There were even a few grenade launchers and assault shotguns.

Malcom quickly found cupboards full of tactical gear and started putting together a field kit while Rudyard’s men selected their own carbines and a Cultural Republic of Chinese and Mongolian Peoples, or CRCMP for short, QBB-95 Light Support Weapon for Rudyard. A bullpup light machine gun, the QBB-95 featured a drum magazine between the hand grip and the stock.

“What the hell was that man expecting to face on a cruise?” Captain Frye protested, eyes bugging out at the sight of the small arsenal aboard her ship.

#

“Current immortal civilization,” Lydia explained to the mortals as Aislin arrived with Malcom and their reinforcements onto the shard. “Lilith and Vishnu took power in Yomi and Nirvana, our homeland shards, around forty-five thousand BC. That was the start of our current civilization, though we’ve only been at lasting peace since the Compact was made two thousand years ago. Technically immortal civilization stretches back millions of years. There aren’t many left who are that old, though. I know some of the symbols but they’re not arranged in any order I’m familiar with.”

“But still, neither of you can read this,” Rudyard said, mostly to himself as he was taking the information in. “So what does that mean? Aliens?”

“It’s not impossible,” Aislin answered. “There could be civilizations out here that have never had contact with Earth. However, considering the presence of the displacer warg, a species that we know about, and at least a familiarity with this alphabet, it’s more probable that this is some kind of civilization that we’ve just never encountered. Maybe an off-shoot of one of the mortal races that fled to the shards sometime in prehistory.”

While the adults were talking, Amaya was busy looking down the hallway. The ceilings and floor were made out of the same metal but the metal walls gave way to some kind of transparent material similar to glass. Beyond the glass were small rooms with door-shaped indentations in the back walls that reminded her of automatic doors from Star Trek. Without power, they were going to be a bitch to get open. Luckily, all the rooms were empty. She could see the end of the hallway up ahead, branching into a T-intersection. “These look like cages,” she said, feeling the texture of the transparent material and knocking on it. The dull thud of the knock was nothing like the sound of glass. “This feels stronger than glass, though, probably some sort of mineral-based material. This place is looking more and more like a zoo.”

“Oh yes,” Aislin said, “both demons and gods have plenty of menageries just like this one. Well, except in good working order with better security, dedicated staff and animals that are not on the loose and eating each other.”

“You guys haven’t seen Jurassic Park have you?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “We zoologists are not incompetent bunglers, thank you. Our menageries don’t have break-outs and this place is ancient and obviously abandoned.”

Amaya held up her hands in surrender. “Ok, ok.”

“Leonard, Hoffman, good to see you,” Rudyard said to the two new security guards that Malcom and Aislin had arrived with. “Brought you a party favour, boss,” Hoffman said, handing Rudyard the light machine gun. Rudyard grinned, resting the butt on his hip so that he could check the chamber while slinging his carbine over his shoulder. “More dakka, that’s what I’m talking about. I want you two to group up with Darring and keep an eye on our backs. If possible, keep the other eye on Aeryn here.”

Aeryn waved and smiled at them from behind her camera.

“Malcom,” Rudyard continued, “you’re taking point with me.”

Malcom nodded, keeping his carbine pointed downward professionally with the stock tight to his shoulder as he passed Rudyard a torch attachment for the barrel of his gun. Snapping it in place, the security chief nodded to everyone, “Let’s go.”

The branch to the right ended in one of the strange doorways that Amaya had seen in the cages. Next to it was a sign with more of the strange writing on it, this time in red with sharper angles and points. It only took a few moments consideration before everyone looked at each other and said “warning sign” simultaneously before turning around to head the other way.

Like the previous hallway, this one ended in another of the doors but the door was stuck slightly ajar and there weren’t any signs nearby. Peeking through, Amaya gasped. “I can see a feint pale green glow emanating from some circles inscribed in the walls and floor,” she said for everyone else’s benefit, “similar to the ones we built to help Aislin teleport us down here. In the middle of the circles are weird pedestals with buttons on them. Some kind of control room maybe?” Slipping her arm through the crack experimentally, she tried to assess whether she could squeeze through. “I don’t think I can get through, Akiko could though.”

Rudyard groaned.

Ha! Akiko snickered. It’s those big old milk-bags of yours, isn’t it!

Jealousy is unbecoming of you, Amaya shot back. If I let you out will you promise not to do anything too stupid?

Hey! I’m not stupid!

I didn’t say you were stupid, Amaya replied placatingly. But we’re in a dangerous situation and you’re too impetuous for our own good.

Akiko huffed. I promise to be careful.

All right then. Amaya looked to Rudyard regretfully. “I’m sorry, please keep an eye on her. She won’t have to be out for long.”

“All right,” Rudyard said, giving in.

Aware that Aeryn had the camera trained on her, Amaya closed her eyes to focus, relinquishing control. She felt herself slide into the back of their mind as their body shifted, hair shifting from black and blue to white and red as her body slimmed. Akiko grinned as she opened her amber eyes, hopping excitedly in place and stretching. “Thanks, old man Holt! Lemme see here…”

Slipping her arm through, Akiko sucked in her stomach as she shuffled gently through the gap, wiggling to inch through. Your butt is too big too. Nothing to do with squeezing through here, just saying, she commented wryly to her sister, who blew her a mental raspberry in response. Slithering through, she scanned the room more thoroughly. “Nothing living on this side,” she whispered over her shoulder, “and no other doors. Definitely some kind of control room for something, though.”

Akiko jumped when Aislin appeared next to her with an audible ‘pop’. Kneeling to run her hands over the circle on the floor, the demon pursed her lips. “Pale viridian,” she commented, “I haven’t seen life-force this colour before.”

Lydia grunted behind them as she tried to squeeze through, but she was far too big. “Oh bother!” she exclaimed, giving up. “Maybe we can force it open?”

“Yeah, take a step back,” Rudyard ordered. “Malcom, I reckon we’ve got this.”

While the boys put their backs into opening the door, Aislin finished examining the circles. “Definitely controls for this shard’s void engines.”

Akiko listened to Amaya for a moment before asking her sister’s question for her. “Amaya wants to know if she can transfer the engines to our ship?”

“Probably,” Aislin answered, stroking her chin as she looked off into space. “Heck, I can give her the designs to build one from scratch if we want. I’m more inclined to tether the airship to this shard and pilot the shard around. If we can clear away or corral the local fauna. Try not to alarm the other mortals with this information but it could take a long time for us to get back to Earth…”

Akiko’s mind wandered as Aislin kept talking. She wasn’t worried about missing anything, Amaya was paying attention to Sempai, she could give her the cliff notes if it was important. After a moment’s hesitation before crossing one of the circles, pushing back bad memories of their sealing, she found herself looking at the buttons atop one of the pedestals. WAIT! STOP! AKIKO! Amaya shouted, pulling her attention away from Aislin’s lecture moments before Akiko idly pressed a few of the buttons.

The circles around them flared to life and the facility shook as the momentum of the entire shard shifted. Aislin was on Akiko in moments, grabbing the kitsune by the front of her blouse. “WHAT DID YOU DO?” the demon demanded, eyes flaring red. “Which buttons did you push?”

Akiko squeaked. “I… Um… That one,” she said, pointing, “and maybe that one. No, wait, it was that one, yes.”

Akiko felt the strange sense of teleportation vertigo for a moment before finding herself deposited in the middle of the circle room back on the Sol Suna. Captain Frye jumped at their sudden appearance.

“Captain,” Aislin cut in before anyone else could say anything, “the shard has changed course. You need to order your pilot to correct for its new trajectory.”

Pressing her face to the glass of the forward observatory window, Akiko’s eyes widened. The shard hadn’t changed course so much that it was now rolling over along its axis, like a great, big, ponderously slow fly swatter heading straight towards them. “Um, ma’am,” Akiko called out, “you better look at this!”

The Captain took one look at the rolling landmass and started barking orders through her radio. All three of them jumped when several small explosions rocked the shard, erupting into forest fires. “I didn’t do that!” Akiko said firmly. “That wasn’t my fault!”

At the same time, Aislin began staring off into space as the annoying jingle ringtone of Malcom’s phone began playing in her head. “Aislin,” she mumbled like she was answering a phone call.

“Aislin?” Rudyard’s voice came through to her telepathically. “What the hell happened and where are you?”

“I teleported back to the Sol Suna, I’m not sure what exactly happened…” Trailing off, she looked to Akiko in askance.

The fox-girl listened to her sister for a moment before answering. “Amaya says I accidently set off something called a ‘retro thruster’, apparently those need to be in balance or something to keep the shard stable.”

Aislin relayed the information. “Good news is the shard’s gravitational field should remain constant relative to the orientation of the shard,” she added, “so nothing’s going to fall into the void. Bad news is that something else just started some fires on the surface. The Captain’s getting us on course already, I can see the shard slowing down now. We should be back with you in…”

Aislin was interrupted by the loud roar of twisting metal that made her wish she could just pull the phone away from her ear. “Rudyard, what was that?” she asked moments before the line cut out. “Oh shit.”

Chapter 8 – Too Hot to Handle

Pale green sparks of lightning flew across the room as Lydia worked on the controls, several of the circles around them burning out. “Sorry!” the goddess apologized as the ground lurched underfoot. A trickle of blood was running from her nose, blood vessels bursting from the strain of controlling the system’s life-force. “This control system is antiquated and I’ve never dealt with energy like this before! But I think I’ve got the thrust problem sorted out.”

“That’s what he said,” Aeryn snickered, busily scanning the room with her camera.

“Please just tell me those weren’t vital systems,” Malcom begged, pointing at the burned-out circles.

Lydia winced. “Um, semi-vital? I mean, nothing bad happened so they’re probably not a major issue,” she said, not knowing about the fires overhead. “The pale viridian life force in this room, however, indicates that the species that built this was some sort of evolutionary link between humans and Sidhe. The facilities have held up remarkably well but who knows what could go wrong with maintenance delayed in the order of millions of years?”

A loud crunch of something big hitting metal echoed down the hall through the open door to the control room, sending vibrations through the floor into their feet. “Sir,” Leonard called back to his boss who was on Malcom’s phone, “something’s trying to break through the door down there!”

Rudyard cut the call and handed the phone back to Malcom, who stashed it in his back pocket. Shining his gun-light down the hall, he saw the doorway bulging in, more blows rocking the door as it was pummelled by whatever was on the other side. “Right, take a few steps back gentlemen and set up. Whatever comes through the door; shoot to kill. Lydia, stand up against the wall. If it gets through the door, stab it in the back.”

“I mean, if it’s an animal, we shouldn’t kill it,” Lydia mumbled, dithering.

“I respect your convictions,” Rudyard said, “but I’m also responsible for all our lives here. That takes precedence.”

Nodding, Lydia took position. Aeryn didn’t have to be told what to do, quickly scurrying behind cover.

Several more dents appeared in the metal door at the other end of the hallway before it gave way, bouncing around the corner of the T-intersection. The scaled beast battered the doorframe aside with the large, rhino-like, horn on its snout. Thick plates and scales rippled over corded tendons as it tore its way through. “Light it up!” Rudyard ordered, opening fire. Fully automatic fire pattered off its hide like hailstones, merely scratching the enamel.

A peaceful, feminine, voice said something unintelligible from one of the consoles. Rudyard blinked when a small turret popped out of the hallway ceiling, span its barrel towards the escaped beast and fired a net of pulsing pale green energy at it. Flashes of lightning sparked from the walls as the beast roared, bucking wildly to shake the net off. Flinging the stinging projectile aside, it arched it back, impaling the turret with its horn and shredding it.

Malcom saw his chance, taking careful aim and scoring several hits on its exposed underbelly, drawing blood. “See that? Go for the… What the…?”

The gunners paused their fire as they watched whatever sort of rhino-lizard thing this was shrink itself down to the size of a house cat. Letting off a tiny ‘roar’, it bounded forward.

“Don’t let up!” Rudyard ordered, snapping off some more fire. “If it can shrink, it can grow back to full size!”

Akiko and Aislin suddenly appeared in the chamber with an audible pop of displaced air. “We’re back, she’s safe and… Why are you firing at a kitty?” she asked before her eyes narrowed. “Wait, that’s not a kitty! DIE!” Gesturing with her right hand as her snake-like gun slithered into her left hand, a sudden violent breeze whipped through the room as the demon sucked the air out of the corridor. The rhino-lizard began to wheeze as it grew back to its original enormity, bounding forward in desperation and rage.

Its shoulders hit the doorframe to the chamber, buckling the wall. With its head through the door, it took a gasp like a swimmer coming up for air. Lydia screamed a war cry as she brought her manablade down across its cheek, cutting deep. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” she apologized profusely.

Akiko grinned, summoning up her chakra. The floor in front of the beast exploded into intensely hot amber flames, only a harmless illusion but the beast couldn’t know that. Eyes widening, it screeched, pulling back into the vacuum as it tried to flee, escaping through the caved-in ceiling beyond the T-intersection. Dismissing the vacuum, Aislin shook her head, “I almost feel bad for it now. But it did have the temerity to impersonate a kitty.”

“Akiko,” Rudyard addressed the kitsune, “can you ask Amaya if she can strip this room for parts? I don’t want to be down here any longer than we have to.”

“Hold that thought, Akiko,” Aislin interrupted. “Actually, I was considering the merits of repairing this shard, tethering the skyship to it and piloting this around instead.”

“With things like that out there!” Darring scoffed.

“Actually, it might not be as insane as it sounds,” Aeryn said. “This place has clean air, water and game we can hunt. The Sol Suna’s stores can’t last forever.”

“Precisely,” Aislin beamed. “We’d have to secure the animals and get the facilities up and running. Oh, and put out the forest fires…”

“Forest fires!” Lydia screeched, turning to Akiko. “This is all your fault! You just had to go fiddling with the controls!”

That’s not fair! Amaya protested where nobody could hear her. WE didn’t blow out the circles!

Akiko glared at her, pointing at the darkened circles on the walls and floor. “I didn’t do that,” she accused. “Look, let me just put out this fire…”

She was interrupted when the soft, feminine, voice chimed in again in its foreign language. “Beeta dau. Weedub pu chini!”

Akiko blinked as several spray nozzles emerged from the ceiling and sprayed her with flame retardant foam. Wiping foam out of her eyes while everyone snickered at her, she sighed as the fire illusion died out. Shaking the rest of the foam away, she mumbled “Well, I hope you’re all happy now. Amaya, you fix this.” Slipping back into their subconscious, Amaya emerged, hair darkening to black with blue tips. “Ugh,” Amaya groaned, looking up at Rudyard with nuclear-grade doe eyes. “I’m sorry, I should have paid more attention to what she was doing.”

Rudyard and Malcom’s flat stares told her they weren’t buying it but in the end the security chief sighed, hoisting his gun over his shoulder. “Lesson learned, then. If you can get this place fixed up, you’ll have earned my forgiveness.”

“What? No, no, no, no, no,” Lydia protested. “Why’d you bring chaos incarnate down here anyway?”

“To be fair, I brought the engineer down here.”

“You can’t get one without the other and you have to punish them both to punish one of them anyway!”

“All Akiko did was activate some of this facility’s automated defence systems and accidently set of a retro thruster,” Amaya said as calmly as possible. “Your fiddling around trying to fix it caused the forest fires. Which, by the way, we have to deal with as soon as possible. So how about you get out of my face and let me work?”

Lydia spluttered. “You… You…”

Akiko could feel the goddess gathering mana and directing it towards her. Screwing her eyes shut, she braced herself for what was to come. A sudden pop and fizzle sound told her that something had gone wrong as blue sparkles ricocheted across the room. Lydia’s body shuddered for a moment before it changed, her skin darkening, hips and breasts expanding until a vision of flawless beauty stood before them. Malcom was so distracted that he dropped his gun and fumbled trying to pick it up.

“Well that’s an obscure fetish,” Aislin murmured in amusement.

“What happened?” Aeryn whispered to the demon. “She looks like Katie Sackhoff’s Arabian porn double.”

“Who? No, nevermind,” Aislin dismissed the question as soon as she asked it. “The goddess of desire here tried to become Amaya’s vision of beauty to manipulate her but she misdirected the spell to Malcom by accident. It seems that Malcom has a thing for Urd, the goddess of fate. Though I’m not sure she’d appreciate some of the exaggerations.”

“I was just thinking Urd would be useful,” Malcom protested, “not that!”

Amaya laughed while Lydia and Malcom blushed in embarrassment. “Well, that’s not really my thing but thanks for trying, Lydia,” the kitsune chuckled. “You’re still pretty hot, though!”

“Beeta dau,” the feminine voice said again. “Weedub pu chini!”

The nozzles popped out of the ceiling and hosed Lydia down, covering her in a mound of foam.

“Wow,” Amaya noted, trying not to laugh. “These systems seem real buggy.”

#

The room beyond the door the rhino-lizard had battered through had several large tanks full of thick fluid that Lydia, freshly cleaned up and contrite, informed them was a cloning facility. Naturally, Rudyard immediately ordered Amaya to disable the system, so the kitsune was busy under the controls trying to decipher the maze of wires and devices attached to the tubes.

“It’s ok,” Amaya finally said, “I can shut this down.”

“Don’t screw up this time,” Lydia warned.

“Geeze, you’d think a goddess would have a little faith,” Amaya mumbled before snipping a wire.

The alarms sounded immediately as red lights began to flash. “Kilmana da! Kilmana da! Pasphor deebu acha!”

“Amaya! You screwed up again!” Lydia snapped.

“That should have disabled the cloning vats!” Amaya protested.

“It did,” Ailsin said with perfect calm, “but you seem to have triggered a failsafe. There’s a series of holographic symbols appearing over the console, looks like a timer.”

As Amaya shimmied out from under the console, she looked up to see the ‘timer’ disappear, replaced with a three-dimensional holographic map of the facility filling with gas. After a moment, the gas was ignited, cleansing the rooms and hallways in fire. Then the map disappeared and the timer continued.

Lydia stared at the timer intently. “It’s not a countdown, it’s counting up. I think it’s counting up to a certain density level for the gas. Once it gets to the right mixture of flammables and oxygen, boom, the facility is cleansed of any escaped life forms.”

“Shouldn’t we be getting the fuck out of here, then?” Rudyard growled.

“Calm thine pectorals,” Aislin said, looking around to check that everyone was in the room. “I think you’ll find the gas density will drop momentarily.”

When Lydia looked back to the symbols, she watched them rapidly plummet. “What did you do?”

“I created a vacuum in the rest of the facility,” she said smugly. “I can hold it for a few hours but we’re trapped in here until Amaya disables the system.”

Taking her cue, Amaya dived back under the console. It only took a minute for her to disable the failsafe, the holographic image flickered out as the alarms died. “There, see?” Amaya said, handing Lydia the offending circuitry. “No need to panic.”

“Hey, Rudyard,” Malcom called the security chief over to where he was sitting in the corner, scribbling on his notepad. Rudyard walked over and knelt next to him, “What’s up?”

Malcom tapped the symbols on his notebook. “Aislin’s idea might not be as crazy as it first sounds. I think with a bit of time and some help from either her or Lydia, I can decipher this language.”

“I didn’t know you were a linguist.”

He smiled. “Languages and cryptography, it’s all puzzle solving. I’m a private detective, it’s in my job description.”

“We’ll still have to secure the wildlife,” Rudyard pointed out. “But Aeryn’s right about the stores, we’ve got about two months of food without rationing. If things get too tight, we’re looking at mutiny, which won’t help anyone.”

“While I’m not adverse to putting a bullet in a few one percenters, I’d rather avoid it,” Malcom said. “What’s the next move?”

Standing up, Rudyard coughed to get everyone’s attention. “Ok, listen up everyone. We’re going back to base to give our report to the Captain. Based on our recommendations, she’ll make her decision but on the whole, I’m for taking this zoo over. Get your arguments together, this might be a hard sell.”

Chapter 9: Session 4 – The Reverse Copperfield Gambit

The room that had become Amaya’s workshop was a mess. Formerly the tool room attached to engineering, the kitsune had dragged a mattress into one corner and laid sleeping bag out on it. Technical manuals and blueprints were scattered around the bedding along with her notes and calculations. Shelving bore clearly labelled boxes of parts, from nuts and bolts to rubber tubing. Amaya herself sat cross-legged at the end of the steel table in the middle of the room, head stuck deep in the guts of the new environmental control for the ship, her fox-like ears flat against her head to keep them out of the way.

“Last screw!” she proclaimed, extracting herself from the device to flop backwards over the edge of the table, hanging upside-down with her legs still crossed on the bench. Letting her arms and hair dangle for a moment, her tank top bunching up under her breasts, she let herself breathe.

Raphael ‘Raph’ Thorn, the chief engineer, stuck his head through the door. He was an older man with greying hair wearing the same overalls as the rest of the engineering crew. Looking up at him while upside-down, Amaya felt conflicted. On one hand, he was her jailer. On the other hand, he was a kindly, father-like, figure. Demanding but fair, good to his subordinates and popular amongst the engineers. “Is it working?” he asked.

“It will work,” Amaya answered, flipping off the table to land on her feet, “all I need is some photosynthetic cells and carbon filters.”

Hopping over to the box, she pulled out the one labelled ‘Cartridges’ to look inside. Her ears and tails immediately drooped as the only occupant, a dead cockroach, skittered into a corner on its back. “We used everything we had and more getting the hull airtight,” Raphael explained. “If you hadn’t disassembled the environmental controls, we’d still be leaking air.”

Amaya groaned, rubbing her temples. “I don’t need to be told there’s a providence to my madness.”

Sheesh, Sis, Akiko grumbled, learn to take the good luck you can get.

“I probably wouldn’t have made the same call, but I might have depending on the severity of the leak,” Raphael said, shrugging. “And we’ve got a new life support system thanks to you. Not sure I could have built one from scratch myself.”

“The difference between an error and a mistake is not correcting what you do wrong,” Akiko quoted from one of her favourite books, “thanks, Raph.” And thank you, Sis, she added mentally to Akiko. “But without photosynthetic cells and carbon scrubbers, it’s still just a pile of highly organized junk,” she continued aloud. “I can build them, I helped redesign the environment system for the prototype racing suit back at school, but I can’t cultivate the photosynthetic cells from nothing.”

“We could raid the decorative plants on the rest of the ship,” Raph suggested.

“Nah, they’re slowing down the carbon dioxide build-up,” Amaya rejected the idea. “We need fresh materials. I’m going to go see Rudyard and organize another exploration party onto the shard. How’s your team doing with the tether?”

Grinning, Raph beckoned her out of her workshop and led her to the fore of the engineering deck past the engines and a set of stairs that led past the cargo bay to the helicopter pad on the roof. The room had been storage and maintenance access to the bridge systems overhead but all the cargo had been cleared to make way for the energy tethers. Two large engines hummed, radiating heat from the plasma coils that generated power for the long, cable-like, force-fields that held the ship to the anchor points installed in the shard below. A thick window had been installed so that the operators could see the tethers as the energy beams fluctuated rhythmically.

“Your team did all this while I was working?” Amaya asked, whistling as she pressed her nose to the window. “I’m impressed.”

“Can’t let you hog all the glory,” Raph chuckled.

“Where’d you get the plasma coils?”

“One thing about working skyships, you’ve got all the rules, regulations and safety precautions of both an airline and a cruise ship,” Raph explained. “The engines have two redundant systems and by law we’ve got to bring a full set of spares. We’re going to have to be careful, though, depending on how long we’re out here.”

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” Amaya said, as much to herself as Raph. “Hope you won’t miss me for a few hours.”

“Just remember, we need you back here in one piece to start on the void engines,” Raph reminded her. “I don’t know what kind of school you went to and I don’t care but you and Aislin are the only two people on board who can get us out of here.”

“Don’t worry,” Amaya said, trying to smile reassuringly as she walked towards the lift to the upper decks. “I’ll have Rudyard and a bunch of his boys with big guns right behind me.”

Raph waved goodbye at the lift as the doors closed. Not long after, Amaya made her way to the security office where Rudyard was sitting behind his desk, looking over reports. “I thought Raph was taking care of you?” he asked, eschewing pleasantries.

Amaya spread her hands and shrugged, helplessly. “Can’t avoid it, I need an escort down onto the shard to gather resources. I’ve finished the life support system but we need raw materials for the carbon dioxide scrubbers. There are plants and charcoal, thanks to the fires, we can use on the surface.”

See? I know what I’m doing, Akiko commented.

Don’t push your luck, Amaya snapped back.

Rudyard stared at her for a long moment. “We know at least that displacer wolf is down there. Not to mention the cockatrice. Besides, Aislin’s busy taking the captain through her plan to pull us along with the shard’s engines.”

“We’ve got a helicopter,” Amaya suggested. “No need to bother Aislin and the Captain. We can scout a landing zone for beasts before dropping us in. It won’t take me long to harvest the material, then we can get back home. Heck, if we can take out some of the hostile wildlife along the way, bonus points. If we’re going to use the shard, we’ll have to secure it anyway.”

Sighing, Rudyard stood, neatly stacking the papers he’d been reading and stacked them off to one side. “I’ll need to inform the Captain but those environmental controls are our top priority. And I could use a walk. Go grab what you need and meet me at the landing pad.”

Amaya saluted mockingly, “Roger, Sir.”

#

Flying over the terrain was a new and interesting experience for both Amaya and Akiko. The bubble-like cockpit of the helicopter gave a near two-hundred-and-seventy-degree field of view, the kitsune could even see the treetops passing by between her feet. Fitting headphones over her ears had been impossible, so she wore one of the thickly padded pilot’s helmets with her ears flat to her scalp. Wind whipped through the cabin as Rudyard and his men scanned the ground for hostiles, hindered by the periodic clouds of smoke caused by the smouldering brushfires that had erupted after the malfunction in the command centre. The security chief was wearing mirrored shades along with his beret, his heavy machinegun resting butt-first next to his booted foot. They were loaded for bear, which was apropos. Amaya didn’t want to see what sort of bears this place could have produced.

Lydia sat on the opposite side of the cabin, peering down with the curious detachment of an academic. She’d dressed somewhat practically in rugged shorts and a tank top. Of course, since it was Lydia, the tank top was a designer print depicting a Japanese ink drawing of an Oni and the shorts were artfully frayed denim with hand-embroidered floral decroations. She was also pointedly not talking to anyone present without reason, though that was as far as any obvious hint of resentment went on her part.

“That area,” Amaya said, pointing to a blackened, burned, clearing near the edge of the shard with a copse of trees and several large stones resting in the middle. “Take us over there.”

Nodding, the pilot slowly turned the craft in that direction. Trees got sparser near the edge of the shard but Amaya spotted large patches of green moss on the rocks. Seeing the edge of this small world simply drop off into grey nothingness as they got closer to it was still unnerving. Ignoring her fears, Amaya scanned the edge of the clearing, seeing a momentary shift in the bushes. As the helicopter hovered for a few moments, Amaya focused on the bushes at the edge of the clearing. It wasn’t long before she saw the outline of an enormous bird-like creature, feathers shifting between patches of green to camouflage itself.

“Rudyard!” Amaya called back, pointing, “That’s the cockatrice!”

Spinning his head, following Amaya’s finger, it took a moment for Rudyard to spot it. “I see it! Holy hell, it’s big!”

Lydia got up, nimbly grabbing the overhead handhold as she joined Rudyard on that side. “It’s not supposed to be that big,” Lydia informed them. “There’s only one cockatrice sighting that we know of on Earth, and it was the size of a chicken. It also didn’t have adaptive camouflage.”

The group watched it scratch at the dirt, pacing just beyond the edge of the trees. “It knows we’re here,” Lydia yelled over the wind and noise, “but it doesn’t want to move into the open. If you can give it a scare, it’ll run off!”

Nodding, Rudyard reached over his shoulder to remove a gun that looked like nothing more than a tube with a handle. Opening the breech, he selected a large munition with red markings and loaded it into the chamber. Making sure his safety harness was firmly attached to the fuselage, he leaning out, took careful aim and fired. The incendiary grenade was propelled in a long arc, descending within a few feet of the bird-creature before exploding in the air and setting the nearby trees alight. The cockatrice screeched and bolted back into the forest.

“All right, take us down,” Rudyard ordered the pilot, holstering the grenade launcher to hoist his heavy machine gun. Looking to his men, he nodded. “That thing might be back. Watch our backs while Amaya gets what she needs. Keep the engines warm, I don’t want to be down there any longer than we have to be.”

The landing was smooth. Rudyard and his two men immediately hopped out, running ten feet before kneeling with plenty of open space between them and the underbrush. Lydia stood tall, like the wind from the rotors barely affected her, while Amaya scampered over to the rocks to begin gathering moss samples. The fire burned out at the edge of the clearing quickly thanks to the damp conditions.

“Here,” Amaya said, handing Lydia a bucket, “scoop up some of that charcoal, would you? Fill the bucket.”

Lydia snatched the bucket from her hand but went and began collecting material as requested.

In no time at all, the group was back on the chopper as it rose into the air again, not a trace of the cockatrice in sight. “See? Nothing to worry about,” Amaya called back. Rudyard gave her a thumb up but Lydia was staring out at the scenery, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. Amaya resolved not to let the goddess get her down, grinning happily as she cradled her moss samples on her lap.

The helicopter passed through a small cloud of smog from the grenade as the pilot directed them back to the Sol Suna. The skyship was still an impressive sight, glistening in the eerily source-less sunlight on the approach. It wasn’t until they touched down that Rudyard breathed a sigh of relief. Lydia immediately jumped out and strode into the ship without saying a word.

“Almost too easy,” Rudyard commented to Amaya as they stood at the edge of the helipad, the whine of the engines finally subsiding. “After the last couple of days, I’ll take a little good luck.”

“I hear you,” Amaya agreed, taking off her flight helmet. “Part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Is Lydia ok? I’m sensing a little hostility.”

“You did kinda show her up down in the command centre,” Rudyard muttered, “maybe she’s still sore about that. Maybe she thinks Akiko’s a liability. Honestly, I don’t blame her. Let her cool off a while.”

Maybe she’s an uptight bitch, Akiko commented.

“We’ll leave her alone. Besides, I’ve got work to do,” Amaya said, patting her box of samples. “I should have a report for you in a few hours.”

“Once you do, you’re going to get some sleep,” Rudyard called after her, “that’s an order!”

Amaya gave him another mocking salute before hopping into the lift and descending to engineering. It wasn’t until she was halfway down that she realized she’d forgotten the bucket of charcoal.

#

“The fires were likely caused by blockages in the coolant vents,” Aislin explained to the Captain as they poured over her hand-drawn schematics. The Captain’s office was a large room with a table directly in the middle, a minibar at one end and bay windows looking over the recreation area, giving the two plenty of light to draw plans. “The structure is very old, we’ll need to reinforce…”

She was interrupted by a polite knock on the door a moment before it opened. Aeryn poked her head through, looking apologetic. “Um, I’m sorry if I’m interrupting something…”

“You are,” Captain Frye snapped, “but I trust it’s important enough?”

Aeryn gulped, understanding the threat implicit in the question. “It is,” she said, slipping inside and closing the door. She was holding a small TV screen in her hands. “Rudyard didn’t want me to go with the away team this time but he let me tap into the helicopter’s camera system.” Placing the screen on the table, she turned the screen around to show them the picture. It was obviously the point of view from the nose of the helicopter, looking out over the landing pad.

“Huh,” Frye mumbled, “we haven’t been informed they’d returned yet. I’m glad everything went smoothing this time.”

“About that,” Aeryn said, pointing through the bay windows to the landing pad outside. The demon and the Captain turned to look over their shoulders.

The landing pad was empty.

Aislin’s jaw dropped open. “What the F…!”

Chapter 10 – Eighty-Eight Times

Lydia was getting a headache and she wasn’t quite sure why. Wandering through the halls of the Sol Suna, heading back to her cabin, she took several wrong turns that confused her. Finally reaching her cabin, she flopped into her bed and groaned. Rolling onto her back, she picked up her tablet to resume her research. For the last several days she’d been trying to work out what was happening to Amaya and how she could seal Akiko away once more. Unfortunately, there was precious little on Ashvattha about kitsune and even less in the Community lorebooks.

Did Amaya have multiple personality disorder linked to her shapeshifting ability? A bizarre form of Popeye syndrome? Practically every book on the subject mentions two things about the kitsune race, first that the older ones are eccentric and second that the race as a whole is highly secretive. More disturbing were the articles that suggested that kitsune are related to the kumiho, a similar fox-like species that eat souls. Amaya couldn’t be a kumiho, however, she was crazy but not crazy enough.

Staring at her tablet screen, the goddess came back to reality with the realization that the words she was reading didn’t make sense. “Tonal changes in kitsune range from pumpernickel to the camshaft,” she read aloud from the text, just to make sure she wasn’t going mad. Scanning the page, then flipping forward and back through the pages, she blinked. Every single sentence was pure gobbledegook.

Casting the tablet aside, she hit the call buzzer on her bedside table to summon a member of staff. To her surprise, there was an immediate knock on the door. Jumping up, she pressed the button to open the automatic door to find a short, young, Japanese stewardess smiling up at her. “Hello, ma’am,” she greeted, bowing politely, “you called?”

“That was quick,” Lydia observed hesitantly.

“I was just checking on the other residents when I heard your call,” she explained, stepping inside. “What can I help you with?”

Lydia’s eyes narrowed. “I just wanted to find out if there was a problem with the ship’s computers.”

“No error there I’m currently aware of, ma’am,” the stewardess replied with a fake smile.

Focusing, the goddess shifted her attention to the mindscape, the subliminal reality that connected her to Ashvattha and all other immortals. The purpose this time was different as she attempted to peer into the stewardess’ mind. As reality fell away, Lydia found herself standing before enormous, burning, black gates the size of skyscrapers. Across the doors, burning with the fury of a forge, was a number written in Japanese.

Eighty-eight. In Chinese culture, the luckiest number. A code for ‘Heil Hitler’ in white nationalist circles, ‘H’ being the eighth letter of the alphabet. Also code for ‘hip-hop’ in music circles for the same reason. In Japanese culture, however, eighty-eight took on the associated meaning of ‘uncounted’ or ‘infinite’.

Snapping back to reality, Lydia took a step back from the beatifically grinning stewardess. “Who the hell are you?”

#

Amaya stared at her new environmental control system, only it wasn’t her environmental control system. It was an assemblage of parts to be sure, superficially similar to her machine, but it wasn’t a machine that did anything. Tubes were connected to fittings that weren’t attached to anything. The wiring connected to mish-mashed circuitry that looked like something out of a poorly researched science fiction movie.

Picking up her box of samples, she left her workshop and looked each way down the hall. It was astonishingly quiet, far too quiet for the engineering deck she knew. “Raph!” she called, walking back to the engine room. Several men in engineering overalls that she didn’t recognize were tightening and un-tightening bolts as the engines hummed along perfectly. They barely noticed her other than to turn and nod their heads. Walking the other way, she opened the door to the room with the energy tethers, only to find shelving full of random parts and materials.

Her heart beating fast, Amaya skipped up the stairwell, navigating the hallways until she found the bridge. Captain Frye was nowhere to be seen and the crew idly keeping the ship steady didn’t pay her any mind as she stepped up to the sensor station. The view outside the windows was clouded by hanging smog from the fires and the sensors were useless. The altimeter read that they were perfectly steady at one thousand feet, there wasn’t even a slight breeze and the ship was perfectly level, almost like they were parked on a sidewalk rather than floating.

What the hell? Akiko asked. Since when was there an illusion of our entire fucking ship?

Grabbing her radio, she left the room and flicked to Rudyard’s channel. “Chief? We have a problem.”

“I’ve noticed,” Rudyard whispered back, “where are you?”

“Outside the bridge,” Amaya answered.

“Ok, I’m coming to get you,” he said. “I’ve gathered the boys and our pilot back on the landing pad with the chopper. Then we pick up Lydia and get the hell out of wherever the hell this is. Do you still have the charcoal and the samples?”

“I have the samples,” Amaya answered, “and the charcoal’s still on the helicopter. I forgot it.”

There was a long pause before Rudyard answered. “Lucky break. See you in a minute.”

You know if this is an illusion, whoever’s controlling it can keep us separated, Akiko suggested.

No need to alarm the Chief just yet, Amaya replied, we’ve been able to navigate the ship well so far.

Sis, we share a brain, we both know who’s doing this. I think Rudyard has a right to know.

It could be some kind of freaky defence the shard has, I don’t want to jump to conclusions…

Right at that moment, Rudyard turned the corner and came into view, fully armed. Staring at Amaya for a few moments, he shook his head. “Ok, I was expecting that to be harder. Thank God you kept hold of the samples.”

Walking over, Amaya’s ears flattened against her head as she looked down the way he’d come. “It’s easier to render an illusion for a group together than one split apart,” Amaya mused. “They probably let us meet to reduce the burden of maintaining it. Even so, whoever or whatever is doing this is extraordinarily powerful.”

“How powerful are we talking?”

“When it comes to illusions, Akiko’s a talented beginner,” Amaya explained. “The best we can do is make illusions to disguise ourselves.”

Don’t tell him that! Akiko complained. You’re such a fucking goodie-two-shoes!

“Aislin and Lydia are way more powerful,” Amaya continued, ignoring her sister. “But even on their level, if they could do illusions, they couldn’t do this. This is an entire, solid, environment inhabited by apparently living people. Sure, the details are sloppy but considering the sheer scale of the feat it’s no wonder.”

“All the more reason to keep moving,” Rudyard said, pulling Amaya down the hall. “I’m assuming that Lydia went back to her cabin. If not, we can…”

He paused at a T-intersection. Looking both ways, he pointed. “The dining hall should be that way, medbay should be that way,” he said, pointing to a curved hallway lined with windows on one side and doors on the other in both directions. Looking back, he saw the hallway shift, morphing from the way back to the bridge to the hallway leading to medbay. “Shit,” he swore.

Turning around, Amaya shook her head. “Now they’re just toying with us,” she murmured, walking over to one of the cabin doors. She tucked the samples under one arm and pressed the button and found that it opened into the ballroom, tables and empty chairs stacked neatly at one end of the large open space. It was also impossible, the room itself was supposed to be aft aside from being large enough to intersect with the hallway they’d just walked down. Allowing the door to close, the kitsune snapped her arm up at the last second, holding the door ajar as she peeked inside at the rapidly morphing illusion. Catching the flicker of red mist as the geometry dissolved, she grabbed the edge of what was ‘real’ and gave it a yank with all her physical and spiritual might.

“Wait, wha…?” Rudyard gasped in alarm, interrupted as the hallway around them began to flicker in and out of existence. Parts of the wall and floor began to break into triangular prisms, revealing more of the formless red mist.

Amaya gave sudden cry as the floor broke apart under her, Rudyard reacting in a split second, diving to grab her wrist. Dangling over the blank grey void, clutching the samples to her chest with tails swishing frantically, the kitsune squeaked when she looked down to find the edge of the shard in the distance far below. “R-Rudyard!” she called out. “I found the sub-ocean!”

“What the fuck did you do?” Rudyard demanded, grunting each word as he heaved her upward. A sudden shift in the floor under him made him look down to find his stable platform also breaking into flickering triangles along with the rest of the hallway. “Shit,” he sighed in a moment of resignation before they both fell.

Only to land heavily on the floor of the Sol Suna’s arcade as it appeared underneath them, surrounded by flickering screens that buzzed old electronic tunes. Amaya managed to hit the ground on her feet before flopping onto her back but Rudyard smacked into the ground belly-first.

“Ow! Ow! Ow!” Amaya moaned, quickly rolling over to rub her tails.

“Never. Do that. Again!” Rudyard shouted.

“I know, I know, dumb idea!” Amaya agreed, springing into a cross-legged sitting position. “On the bright side, I don’t think whoever’s creating this illusion wants us dead.”

“That’s not a great comfort,” Rudyard grumbled.

We both know who’s doing this, Akiko said. Let me handle this, Amaya.

Amaya sighed, “I wouldn’t usually suggest this and you’re not going to like it.”

Kneeling, Rudyard leant against his HMG and sighed. “You’re about to suggest letting Akiko out.”

Amaya blinked. “Wait, what?”

“First, it’s what you always say just before suggesting letting Akiko out,” he snapped, “and second, you suggest it every single time we get in trouble.”

Oh shit, Akiko commented, better pull the plug, Sis, it’s learning!

Shut up, Amaya snapped back at her. “Ok, but the reason I do that is because she’s better at illusions and sneaking about than I am. Remember how I said whoever’s doing this is way more powerful? We need every advantage if I’m going to get us out of here.”

He glared at her. “Then why am I still looking at you?”

Amaya’s black and blue hair immediately brightened into white and red, her body slimming and losing muscle definition as the change spread down to her tails. Standing up, Akiko stretched. “AH! Good to be out! Thanks, old man,” she said, patting Rudyard on the beret.

“Hands off,” Rudyard snapped, standing up. “Amaya said you can get us out of here, I need you focused.”

“Yes, yes,” Akiko snapped back, “I’m not an idiot. Believe it or not, I understand the gravity of the situation…”

She was interrupted when gravity suddenly inverted and the two occupants of the room suddenly found themselves slamming heavily into the ceiling. Akiko still had the presence of mind to clutch the samples to her chest, the corner squashing against her breasts on impact, knocking the wind out of her.

“Ow!” Akiko wheezed.

“Damnit!” Rudyard growled through the pain as he rolled around on the floor. “Don’t tempt them like that!”

Taking a deep breath, Akiko rolled onto her knees to search Amaya’s tool belt for something she could draw with. Finding a permanent marker, she began inscribing a circle into the floor around her. “Ok, time to power up a bit,” Akiko said. “Aislin’s been teaching us how to do this.”

Finally getting onto his feet again, Rudyard watched as she inscribed a perfect circle around herself. “Wow, you’ve really been paying attention?”

Akiko glared at him. “Ok, I admit, I have attention span issues for a lot of things. But this is magic and magic is awesome! You never wanted to be a wizard as a kid?”

“It wasn’t exactly on the curriculum,” he replied, hefting his machinegun. “I’ll stick with what I know.”

“Each to their own,” Akiko said.

Rudyard watched her complete the circle. “You know, you’re impressive when you’re actually focused.”

“Amaya’s a bad influence,” she quipped, looking over her work before grinning up at him. “But thanks, big guy. All right, let’s get out of here.”

Closing her eyes to concentrate, Akiko reached out with her senses and felt the illusory material around her. It was firm and solidly under someone else’s control, but they were distracted. Insinuating her will into the structure, she pulled and warped it. Rudyard watched the ceiling underfoot warp and twist, undulating like water. The waves reached the wall and crawled up it, geometry twisting into a vertical whirlpool that seemed to drill through solid matter, creating a tunnel that cut to the heart of the illusion.

“Who the hell are you?” Lydia demanded of a Japanese woman wearing a stewardess’ uniform. Both women jumped when they saw the hole opening in the wall of what appeared to be Lydia’s cabin, revealing Akiko and Rudyard in the arcade beyond.

“She’s the illusionist,” Akiko answered.

The stewardess smiled at Akiko as the cabin around her began to dissolve, revealing an immaculately sculpted Zen garden. “Impressive,” she complimented as her clothes shifted into a traditional red kimono embroidered with silver and blue waves crashing over villages and mountains. Her hair shifted to a fiery red as her face extended into a fox’s slender muzzle, nine tails spreading out around her in a halo of burning fur. Amber marks spread from her forehead down her face as she grinned, revealing sharp teeth. “You’ve grown well, Akiko.”

Lydia backed away towards Rudyard, looking at Akiko. “You know her?”

Akiko bowed respectfully. “It’s nice to see you again, Godmother. Rudyard Holt, Lydia, this is my Godmother, Yakyou, the Uncounted Calamities.”

“Your Godmother is a nine-tails?” Lydia asked incredulously.

Akiko smirked. “Mum was one of her disciples.”

Rudyard hefted his machinegun up onto his shoulder. “That means she’s really powerful, I take it?”

Both Lydia and Akiko nodded.

Looking to Yakyou, he inclined his head in respect. “So you can get us home?”

The nine-tails shook her head, picking up a watering can to absently tend to some potted plants. “Unfortunately, I cannot sense where you are. I just know you’re there.”

Rudyard glanced at Lydia, who nodded. “She can probably see the area where Akiko is,” the goddess explained, “but not the path between the two points.”

“A good enough explanation,” Yakyou said, smirking. “The void between worlds is both infinite and infinitesimally small. You are everywhere and nowhere at the same time, it’s not like taking a trip down the road to the supermarket. There are no directions to give, no online maps. But don’t despair, your quest home is by no means impossible.”

“Well that’s something,” Rudyard mumbled. “But if Amaya and Akiko are your Goddaughters, why the hell would you trap us in here in the first place?”

“It’s a test,” Yakyou answered. “I wanted to see how much my Goddaughters have grown. Tell me, Akiko, how long have you been awake?”

“About three days,” Akiko said balling her hands into fists as she trembled. “The ship went through some sort of portal and I was hit by green lightning. Before we go, I have a question. Why did you seal me? Being Ichiro all those years was hell! Do you have any idea what you put us through?”

“Yes,” the nine-tails said simply, looking up from her task to fix Akiko with a cold, passionless, stare. “I knew it would hurt every day but my hand was forced. Frankly, I’m glad the seal was broken early.”

Squeezing her fists tight, Akiko finally relaxed. “Well that’s something. Can we go now?”

“Certainly,” Yakyou replied, sweeping her hand in a commanding gesture. The arcade shifted, the ceiling opening as the floor rose onto the top deck of the illusory Sol Suna. Rudyard’s men stepped back as the whole scene emerged onto the landing pad, even the tunnel leading to Yakyou’s garden and the nine-tails herself.

Aislin popped into existence next to them with an audible rush of air as she teleported in. “Ok, there you all are,” she said, glaring at Yakyou. “I take it this is your doing?”

“Uh, Aislin,” Akiko interrupted, “this is…”

“Yakyou, the Uncounted Calamities,” Aislin finished for her. “Yeah, I studied modern immortal politics on Ashvattha. We all ready to leave, then?”

“Damn straight,” Rudyard said, stalking towards the chopper.

“One moment,” Yakyou interrupted. “I’m quite willing to let you go, in return for some payment. I’ll be keeping that helicopter of yours…”

“Oh, fuck no,” Aislin snapped. “Akiko!”

Already concentrating, Akiko’s circle flared and sparked with amber lightning as she thrust all the power she could muster into it. The landing pad stretched, solid metal rolling into two enormous waves spreading in opposite directions, one away from Yakyou, the other slamming into the hole to Yakyou’s garden. As the group was hurled into the air, Aislin spread her arms, red light encapsulating every living being as well as the helicopter. They felt a moment of weightlessness before they were all dumped once more on the landing pad of the real Sol Suna.

The helicopter bounced on its landing gear and skidded to a halt, rocking the landing pad with the impact. Caught by surprise, the rest of the group rolled across the deck and came to rest groaning and muttering darkly. Rising to her hands and knees, Aislin spat blood onto the decking, the marks on her face burned and blackened. “Hrgh,” she coughed, collapsing onto her back, “we can forget about me doing that again for a while.”

“Sempai!” Akiko called out, scrambling to Aislin’s side, leaving the box of samples behind. “Are you ok? Shit, she’s been burned! We have to get her to the doctor!”

“That sounds like a great idea, actually,” Aislin groaned.

“Medic!” Rudyard called to the crew members running towards them. Stepping up to the end of the platform, he took out his binoculars to scan the horizon, just in time to catch the fake Sol Suna winking out of existence, leaving no trace behind.

Malcom and Aeryn brought a stretcher to carry Aislin, Akiko following along behind as they carried her downstairs. Limping a little, Rudyard picked up the forgotten box of samples and handed it to one of his men. “Get this down to engineering,” he ordered, “and get the charcoal from the helicopter, too. Tell him Amaya will be there presently.”

Looking over to where Lydia was dusting herself off with barely a scrape, Rudyard nodded to her. “You ok?”

“I’m fine,” she said curtly.

Walking closer, he leaned in and lowered his voice. “I couldn’t help but notice that Yakyou and her Goddaughters have markings like you and Aislin.”

“Honestly, I don’t know what that’s about,” Lydia said. “It’s curious. Our markings stabilize our mindscapes and connect us to Ashvattha. Nine-tailed kitsune are immortal, if very eccentric, it’s only natural they worked out a similar method of protecting themselves. They probably copied us. Even so, there’s no reason for Amaya to have them.”

Rudyard grunted. “Something about them, though. It’s on the tip of my brain. Ugh, nevermind. I’m going to report to the Captain then go get a drink for me and my guys. You’re welcome to join.”

Lydia nodded. “Thanks, that’d be nice.”

Chapter 11: Session 4 – Tending Tensions

The small crowd that had gathered on deck shouted an incoherent babble of demands led by a middle-aged blonde woman. She wore an expensive, yet tasteless, electric blue and lemon yellow floral print dress. Rudyard stood atop the stage at one end away from the pool trying to calm the mob before him with even, authoritative, tones. His uniform and holstered sidearm were an unsubtle reminder that he was in charge. Lydia kept one eye on proceedings from her seat by the pool, reading a novel. She’d chosen a tight white shirt with red cargo shorts under a pastel yellow blouse worn open to flow around her as she moved. Casual yet stylish.

“Everyone, please,” Rudyard said, finally quieting the crowd. “I’m sorry, I can only take questions one at a time.”

In the silence, the woman in the blue dress outdid her peers in both tenacity and shrillness. “We demand to know what’s going on! We’ve been hovering, doing God knows what, for four days! We didn’t pay for a ‘world cruise’ over the same stretch of jungle!”

“Ma’am,” Rudyard replied calmly, “the ship’s engineers are currently fixing damaged caused by the storm we experienced after leaving Darwin.”

“That doesn’t explain why you, the Captain and the crew have been so evasive whenever we ask where we are,” she snapped back. “And the computer can’t answer us either! I don’t remember there being any jungle this close to Darwin. Heck, I don’t even recognize some of those plants!”

“I understand your concerns. I’m not authorized to give you the full details of what’s happened yet but I promise I’ll go directly from this meeting to talk to the Captain about an official announcement. With luck, you’ll know everything we know by this afternoon.”

“That’s not good enough! Why, I’ve never seen such incompetence…”

Lydia had had enough, stuffing her novel back in her infinity purse as she stormed over to get in the woman’s face. “I’ll thank you to show some respect,” she snapped. “Chief Holt is a veteran and second officer onboard this ship. Everything he does is for the good of the passengers and crew.”

The woman snorted scornfully. “Seriously? There’s only one type of security man on these sorts of vessels. Old men and washed-up has-beens.”

The crack of skin hitting skin reverberated from the glass dome overhead, Lydia’s palm impacting with the woman’s cheek. The crowd was stunned into shocked silence as the woman stared in shock, unable to compute what just happened. “Thank you, Lydia,” Rudyard muttered, stepping between the goddess and the crowd. “Apologies, ma’am, I do understand that tensions are running high at the moment. But there’s no need for this to escalate any further. I promise to stress to Captain Frye that you should be informed as soon as possible.”

Sputtering, the woman finally let herself be led away, so livid she could barely speak. Without its leader, the crowd quickly dispersed into angrily muttering groups.

“That could have gone more smoothly,” Rudyard groaned, giving Lydia a penetrating glare.

“What?” Lydia asked ingenuously, head cocked to one side. “Bitch deserved it.”

Holding his face in one large hand, Rudyard counted to three and took a deep breath. “I’m going to go talk to the Captain. Try to keep yourself out of trouble, please.”

“Sure,” Lydia said, retrieving her novel from her purse as she returned to her seat, continuing as if nothing had happened.

“On second thought,” Rudyard interrupted her, “why don’t you come with me to talk to the Captain. If you’re going to get involved no matter what, you might as well back me up.”

Smirking, Lydia put her book away again and stood up. “You just don’t want to let me out of your sight,” she teased, following as he led her toward the fore of the ship.

“Yes, actually,” Rudyard replied, “at least that way I know when something’s about to explode.”

#

“How are you feeling?” Captain Frye asked as Aislin eased herself into a chair in the conference room. The demon’s face was bandaged and her eyes were sunken and black.

“Bored,” Aislin sighed. “Bed rest was driving me crazy but I did manage to brush up on the schematics for void engines as well as some theory.”

“Well, at least you’re not actively bleeding from the eyes,” Frye quipped, smirking.

Aislin chuckled. “I did overdo it a bit but the helicopter was too good an asset to lose. What’s the status of the ship and the other passengers?”

“The natives are restless,” Frye said, grimacing. “Rudyard’s defusing a flash mob right now. I’m going to have to tell them something. The energy tethers are holding us firmly to the shard and supplies are still good. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of sticking with this floating plot of land. If anything leads to mutiny amongst this soft-bellied lot, it’ll be rationing. Luckily, the run from Darwin to Okinawa is the longest stretch of the voyage, so we’re well supplied. But if worse comes to worse and we’re stuck out here long term, the sooner we can begin farming the better.”

“I’ve been thinking about that too,” Aislin said, “we’ll need to establish a beachhead and secure it from the local wildlife. I hate to say it but we might have to go out of our way to deal with the more dangerous animals definitively.”

Frye sighed. “Displacer wolves, cockatrice… I feel like I’m in a direct-to-cable monster movie.”

“I know some of my compatriots have introduced certain concepts to humanity through fiction,” Aislin said. “We don’t go founding religions anymore but we do like to meddle in creative exploits.”

“Maybe we should be looking for a random blue police box.”

“I do hope you think more highly of my maturity than that, Captain,” Aislin replied, smirking. “But I won’t say it’s impossible.”

The automatic sliding door opened as Amaya strode through with a spring in her step. “Captain,” she greeted, her grin broadening when she saw Aislin. “Sempai! Glad to see you up and about. Good news, the new environmental control system is installed and fully operational. Nobody’s going to be suffocating to death any time soon.”

“That is good news,” Frye sighed in relief. “Aislin was just suggesting, and I agree, that we need to secure a safe area on the shard below so we won’t have to worry about monster attacks. Additionally, we need the ability to traverse this.” She gestured toward the windows and the grey void beyond.

“Your engineers seem capable of working with advanced tech,” Aislin observed. “I didn’t think humans were this far along. I will have to requisition our smallest engineer, however.”

“Oh? Seems I’m right on cue,” Amaya said, grinning so hard she felt like her face might be stuck.

“There’s my assistant,” the demon said, reaching up to pat the kitsune’s head. “How do you feel like learning more horrible things about the nature of reality? I tell a lie, people will rely on you knowing these things to keep them alive.”

“Bring it on,” Amaya answered cheerfully.

“That’s good to hear,” Frye said, “what do you need from me?”

“We need workspace,” Aislin said, “I was hoping to requisition the engine room. The atmospheric engines are likely to burn out soon enough and our project will be replacing them anyway.”

“Makes sense,” Frye agreed, “you have my permission.”

As Amaya and Aislin were leaving, Lydia and Rudyard arrived at the door. “Oh, hi chief,” Amaya greeted Rudyard. “Atmospheric’s back up. You can breathe easy, literally.”

Rudyard groaned. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Five or six days,” Amaya quipped. “It was Akiko’s idea!”

It was not, you cheeky liar! Akiko protested.

Looking to Aislin, Rudyard winced. “Wow, you look out of it.”

Lydia punched him lightly on the arm. “That’s not something you tell a lady.”

“Lies,” Aislin quipped.

“Besides, she’s just dealing with corruption right now,” Lydia continued casually.

Rudyard’s gaze immediately snapped up into a hard stare. “Who’s bribing who? What? When? Where? Names. Dates. Now.”

“Woah! Down boy,” Amaya said, patting the much larger security chief on the shoulder. “Corruption is just the term we use for when a psychic overdoes it and hurts themselves. Like when Sempai burned herself teleporting us and got bleeding stigmata of the eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, Rudyard pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just one moment, I need to calm down this rage.”

Aislin smirked, unable to help herself. “Besides, if someone wanted to bribe me, it’d be extremely expensive.”

“Come in,” Captain Frye beckoned, interrupting before more could be said. “How did the meeting with the passengers go?”

They let the door close behind them, Amaya and Aislin staying behind to hear what Rudyard had to say. “We had a… Not really heated but heartfelt discussion with some concerned people. I think I deflected them neatly but we really need to decide what we’re telling the passengers and make an announcement. Soon.”

“I figured as much,” Frye sighed. “We’ll get our story straight and present it to them this afternoon. After that, how would you feel about going hunting?”

“I’d rather not,” Rudyard sighed, “but I was expecting it.”

“Big bad soldier afraid of some animals?” Frye teased.

“The displacer wolf was this tall at the shoulder,” Rudyard said, holding a hand over his head. “This isn’t a question of culling some stray dogs, more like hunting super-dinosaurs with heat-ray vision.”

“We haven’t actually encountered one that can shoot lasers out of its eyes,” Lydia rebuked him. “If you think about it, it’s not an advantage for most animals to ruin their food by setting it on fire. The cockatrice coats people in stone so it can eat them. It’s actually much worse.” Pausing, the goddess pondered for a few moments. “Actually, come to think of it, there’s only been one recorded cockatrice sighting on Earth. What are the chances that there’s another one here on this shard just randomly? Nobody ever did work out where the original cockatrice even came from.”

Aislin raised one eyebrow. “Wow, I knew there was a reason we kept you around.”

“What?” Rudyard asked, looking between the two immortals.

“She’s suggesting that there’s a gate somewhere on this shard,” Aislin said, “a gate that once led to Earth.”

“So we can get home?” Frye asked.

“Don’t count your cockatrice before they’re hatched,” Lydia quipped. “I’m making an assumption and the shard’s very, very old. Chances are if there is a gate, it’ll be non-functional.”

“But it’s a far better start than nothing,” Aislin insisted. “If the machinery exists, it can be repaired or scavenged for our own device. Even then, once we have a gate, finding Earth isn’t a simple matter.”

“We’re getting way ahead of ourselves,” Frye said, getting back to the point. “Reynolds is almost finished translating the language you found down there. Once he’s finished, we’ll mount a scouting operation to assess the threat of the monsters and find a good place for the beachhead. I’ll ask the engineers if they can adapt their energy tether tech to create a force field around the encampment. Until then, we’ve got some disgruntled customers to deal with. Amaya, Aislin, we need those engines.”

“Roger,” Amaya said, saluting before leading her Sempai out the door.

As the door closed, Frye looked to Lydia. “Ma’am, do you think you can explain to the other passengers in layman’s terms what’s really going on?”

“Like we’re lost in the void?” Lydia asked.

“Well, yes, but I was hoping for something a little more detailed. Like what happened during the storm, how we passed through that gate to get to here. What exactly here is, the difficulty in getting home, that sort of thing.”

Lydia nodded. “Oh, yes. Aislin knows more about this sort of thing but I can run through the basics.”

“Good enough,” Rudyard said. “I don’t think our passengers could deal with the full truth from Aislin’s lips.”

“Great, set up the meeting for this afternoon Chief,” the Captain ordered. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Amen to that, ma’am,” Rudyard agreed.

A bolt out of the blue, James was in the middle of DMing for his pals when a magical artefact encountered in the game crosses the boundaries of imagination to draw them into the world of fantasy!

*Warning, trying to keep the DnD jargon down in this story is almost impossible. I'm explaining things as I go for the uninitiated and it should be less of a problem after this chapter.

Beyond the Screen
By Dr. Bender

Chapter 1

It was a typical college Sunday night. Crickets were chirping the night away outside, somewhere in the distance a frat party was raising the roof and tucked away in our quiet little corner apartment, five nerds gathered around a large table covered in pizza, paper, dice, coffee and soda and pretended to slay dragons.

But I guess I better introduce you to the guys first. Contestant number one on my right tossing popcorn into his mouth is Daniel Bronson, aka Sir Tristan Wallace, Paladin of Gozer the Sun God. An Arts and Philosophy major, Daniel took great delight in testing the edges of the Paladin’s moral code of ethics (for the uninitiated, Paladins are a type of character that gets power from following the faith an tenets of their gods, who are always Lawful and Good… don’t worry, I’ll sit you down and talk you though alignment later). Between pontificating upon the nature of and evil as well as wrestling with his own conscious, Daniel also enjoys fertilizing Sir Tristan’s garden with the blood of Evil creatures great and small, mowing them down with alacrity using a greatsword longer than he is tall.

On Daniel’s right sits Jason Darling-Woodcock, the man with the most unfortunate name on campus, adjusting his glasses. He made up for his name, his lack of personality, his arrogant streak and his chauvinism with an ability to memorize small factoids and follow rules that bordered on godlike. Naturally, he was in Engineering. Our resident rules lawyer, Jason only ever plays Wizards, I suspect because he discovered how unfathomably powerful Wizards are after several days of careful number crunching at some point in his youth. His current character, Haian Nailo, was an enigmatic Grey Elf Wizard (Grey Elves being the variant elf race that gets Intelligence bonuses, thus making them the superior choice for Wizards rules-wise). Enigmatic because Jason didn’t bother with things like ‘roleplaying’ or ‘character background’, his character purely exists as an avatar through which Jason can kill things with large explosions.

Opposite Jason on my far left is Ryan ‘The Duck’ Howard, the group mascot and newbie. A freshman still looking for a major, Ryan’s portly five-toot-six frame earned him his nickname, spurning the more traditional Monty Pythonesque suggestion of ‘The Shrubbery’ when it was offered. As the resident newbie, the group had foisted off upon him the job of being the Cleric. It’s not that Clerics are a bad class, they have quite a few benefits over other characters, it’s that the vast majority of a Cleric’s job is being the party medic. When most of your spells go towards keeping the idiot members of your party alive, it’s not often that a Cleric actually achieves much else unless there’s some Undead around. Alan Wyldmane, Priest of Sharess, was at least a deep character with several pages of background material (bloody freshmen get all the time off, I swear) dedicated to freeing the oppressed and giving charity to the poor.

Standing as he shook a dice in his hand (standing is a sure-fire way of attracting high rolls to your dice) directly to my left was the last player, Thomas Penny. Taking the role of the Thief (or Rogue, as the rulebook calls them, but in Thomas’ case his character was most certainly a Thief) mainly because Wizard was taken, Thomas was undeniably in the game for the looting and pillaging. Most parties only manage to cart out of a dungeon the things which are valuable but not nailed down. Thomas’ ability to affect means of transportation for things otherwise unreachable to the ordinary player was the stuff legends are made of, as was his ability to talk his fellow party members into some epically stupid situations. His character, Jace Longarm, had a nice background blurb that sketched out his previous life as a Half-elf bastard living on the streets that was at once compelling yet served as a vehicle for Thomas’ avarice. Being in IT, he and Jason were alternately best friends and at each other’s throats.

Finally, sitting at the head of the table was my humble self, James Wilson, Dungeon Master, Greybeard (an honourable or dishonourable title given to older players by the younger generation) and system administrator for the university network (such as it is) at the ripe age of thirty three. Being, I’m informed, aged and wise I got the job of DM, which I don’t believe for a minute. I got the job of DM because I’m the only one with a job that doesn’t have to study six hours a day on top of class schedules and I’m a sucker. On the other hand, they did seem rather vehemently opposed to me playing again after our last trip to GenCon (an enormous gaming convention).

“Come on baby,” Thomas implored his dice as he shook it, rolling to see if Jace had the skill to disarm the acid trap on a treasure chest, “papa needs a new pair of Boots of Elvenkind…”

He dropped the dice, which rolled into the clear patch of table between the empty pizza boxes and a stack of rulebooks, bouncing off Daniel’s glass of concentrated caff… er… Mountain Dew. Our Lady of Averages failed to hear his prayer, however, as the twenty-sided dice landed on a natural one.

“Noooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” Thomas screamed at the ceiling, doing a better job of it than Darth Vader at the end of Revenge of the Sith after discovering that he’d killed the love of his life along with his unborn children.

I did an admirable job of holding in my evil glee. “Well, it’s a good job the rest of you waited outside. The chest explodes into a torrent of molecular acid, covering the whole room. Thomas, Jace takes… thirty seven points of damage. You’ll also take an extra 2d6 per round as long as you’re in the acid.”

Thomas made a strangling noise after subtracting the damage from his hit points (hit points or HP being the measure of a character’s health). “Oh, shit… guys, I’m down to -2! Ryan, I need a cure, STAT!”

“The acid is also slowly eating through the piles of treasure in the room,” I added helpfully.

“NO!” Thomas cried out in a panic. “Ryan! You’ve got the Ring of Telekinesis, SAVE THE TREASURE!”

Ryan was looking a bit confused and flustered at Thomas’s confusion and intensity, so I came to his rescue. “Thomas, you’re unconscious,” I gently reminded. He immediately fell boneless into his chair and groaned. “I need a beer,” he griped.

“No alchohol,” I rebuked sternly, “not after the pubic hair noodle incident. What are the rest of you doing?”

Jason finished flipping though the Player’s Handbook (the rulebook that guides players in creating and playing their characters. There are companion volumes for the DM’s eyes only along with a few expansions) and looked at his fellow players. “I know this is going to sound crazy but we should set the acid on fire.”

“WHAT?!?” Ryan shouted as Thomas turned pale and Daniel shook his head in disbelief. I, myself, started to get a headache.

“Look, the acid does 2d6 points of damage per round,” Jason explained his ‘logic’ patiently (2d6 being short hand for two 6-sided dice that give a value of between 2 and 12 when rolled together and a ‘round’ being about 6 seconds of in-game time), “being set on fire only does 1d6, which is half the damage. Plus, the fire will oxidize the acid faster which will stop it from melting the treasure. Putting a fire out is much easier than neutralizing the acid, unless someone happens to have several hundred pounds of alkaline handy.”

I rolled 2d6. “Ok, while you’re discussing what to do, the acid does 4 points of damage to Jace Longarm and melts half the gold into a puddle of slime.”

“-6, guys,” Thomas reminded them, “if I get to -10 I’m toast.”

“That’s it, I grab the torch from the wall sconce and throw it into the acid,” Jason declared.

“The moment I see him reach for the torch,” Daniel countered, “I tackle him and try to grab the torch out of his hand.”

I gave a long-suffering sigh. “Ok, the two of you roll initiative.”

An initiative roll occurs when someone wants to start a fight, to see who gets the drop on who and goes first. Daniel’s character, Sir Tristan, won due to his better dexterity and proceeded to tackle the weedy Elf Wizard Haian to the ground where they struggled while their friend dissolved into his constituent atoms.

“While they’re struggling,” Ryan said, looking through his character sheet, “I’m going to cast an area of effect Cure Serious Wounds that should get Tom… er, Jace Longarm in the area of effect. I roll… a 9!”

“Good thinking,” I encouraged. “Ok, Thomas, what’s Jace going to do?”

Thomas sat up before speaking, brought back to life by being part of the game once more. “I take out my flint and tinder and set fire to the acid!”

I paused for several moments to take the opportunity to squeeze the bridge of my nose and push the burgeoning headache that was starting to gain traction to the back of my mind. “Ok, you are now covered in burning acid. You now take 3d6 points of damage per round and I roll… 16. You’re dead, Jim. Oh and the treasure is now nothing but a puddle of goo.”

Jason tried to pipe up as Thomas stared daggers at him. “Wait a minute, the fire should burn off the acid!”

I ticked points off on my fingers. “Number 1: the acid wouldn’t burn off that quickly. Number 2: acids aren’t flammable by themselves but I’m assuming that some form of by-product from the chemical reaction is producing a flammable gas, like Hydrogen, in small amounts. Number 3, would you much rather such a byproduct was being given off in copious amounts, thus producing an effect much like a fuel-air bomb…”

“No-no,” Jason quickly recanted, “your ruling is fine and fair!”

And that, dear friends, is how you deal with rules lawyers. Turning the page, I quickly glanced through the items in the treasure horde. “Oh, wait, there is one thing left. Once the fire goes out, you notice a glowing gemstone amidst the sludge.”

Their spirits appeased after the loss of their hard-earned loot, the party decided to wait for the acid to neutralize by itself before retrieving their comrade’s corpse so that Alan Wyldmane could use one of his Resurrection Scrolls to bring Jace back to life (a Scroll being a magical item that has a one-use spell written on it, useful for when you need a spell beyond the level of your character or as back-ups so that you don’t have to use your character’s memorized spells that have a limit to the number of times you can cast them per day). While Alan and Jace were busy, Sir Tristan and Haian considered the glowing red orb on the floor.

“I make a spellcraft skill check to identify the orb… I roll 47.”

I muttered something under my breath behind the DM’s screen (a cardboard partition that conceals the DM’s gaming notes, rolls and assorted swearing at the stupidity and mary-sueness of players from the players themselves). “No matter how hard you try, you cannot identify the item through either mundane or magical means. Its name, purpose and intent seemed to be obscured through occult means.”

“Oooh,” Daniel cooed, enraptured, “might be an artefact!”

I must apologize at this point for the large amounts of jargon. Artefacts are powerful magical items that throw spice into games by deliberately breaking the rules. Each is unique, powerful, and usually a complete pain in the ass for DMs and Players alike. This doesn’t stop Players from coveting them, mainly because players are incorrigible, relentless, aquisitionistas. Yes, I had to make up a new word to describe the depths of greed to which Players will sink. Mammon is an amateur, Adventurers are the professionals.

“I’ll pick up the orb,” Jason said.

Nodding, I began to read out the appropriate passage from the dungeon’s text. “Red mist swirls inside the gem for a moment before coalescing into the image of a burning eye…”

“Original,” Thomas muttered. I glared at him before continuing.

“…the stonework shakes and trembles as the malign intelligence beyond the depths of the jewel turns it’s gaze upon each of you in turn. After a moment of fearful tension, a deep voice speaks…”

“GREETINGS MORTAL VOYEURS OF THE OUTER REALM, YOUR FOOLISH TINKERING WITH FORCES UNKNOWN IN YOUR CONTINUITY HAS BROUGHT MY PRESENCE FOURTH.”

The deep breath I’d taken stuck in my throat as the booming voice hailed us from the thin air over our table. We all froze for a moment, looking at each other in fear and confusion.

“Er,” I coughed and smiled when nothing more was said, suddenly feeling sheepish, “all right, where’s the CD player?”

“I AM NO PRE-RECORDED MESSAGE,” the voice growled, an inky black stain beginning to bleed into the air from the point it issued from, “THE LEFT EYE OF THE ELDERS SEES THROUGH THE BARRIERS OF CONCEPTION. ALL YOU CAN IMAGINE IS. WHAT YOU IMAGINE EXISTS OUTSIDE YOUR CONTINUITY, YOU MERELY PEEK THROUGH THE BOUNDRIES AS I DO TO FUEL YOUR PETTY GAMES.”

I blinked and discovered that I was standing, perhaps unconsciously trying to look into the expanding cloud over the table and talk to it ‘eye to eye’. I slapped Daniel’s hand down when he tried to reach out and touch it, not wanting to risk that he wouldn’t be pulling back a stump. The other four were staring at it in a mixture of wonder and terror, I can only attribute my clear head to being so deeply in the mindset of the game that the internal sanity buffers that usually protect me from player’s decisions kicked in and saved me from going mad.

“What do you want?” I asked, sounding braver than I felt.

“LIKE YOU, I LOOK UPON OTHER WORLDS TO EASE THE BURDEN OF EXISTENCE. IT AMUSES ME TO CAST THOSE SUCH AS YOURSELVES INTO THE PRIME MATERIAL PLANE FOR MY SPORT.”

I gulped. To explain, DnD has a whole cosmology based around the worlds that we bring to life through our play. It’s best to think about it like an onion, though this is a gross oversimplification. The centre of the DnD cosmos is the Prime Material Plane, which contains worlds that we would consider more normal except for the existence of magic. Beyond that you have other planes of existence: positive and negative, the four elements and the ‘great wheel’ which is divided into realms such as Heaven, Hell and even less savoury places.

“ENTER THIS COVENANT WITH ME AND I SHALL WATCH OVER YOU IN THE OTHER WORLD, GIFTING YOU WITH POWER BEYOND YOUR WILDEST IMAGININGS. OR REFUSE AND SPEND THE REST OF YOUR DAYS LANGUISHING IN THIS BANAL EXISTANCE.”

Jason stood up, his eyes suddenly alight. “Power? You mean, like magical power?”

“IF THAT IS THE CHARACTER YOU WISH TO PLAY…”

“Wait,” Thomas stood up as well, “you mean we get to pick who we are in this other universe if we go with you?”

“ERRR… YES.”

I wasn’t sure if the booming voice suddenly sounded unsure of itself because it was unused to being interrupted or if it simply wasn’t expecting such an enthusiastic reaction.

“TO AN EXTENT,” the voice quickly added, “THE CHARACTER MUST BE AN ORIGINAL CREATION.”

“Yes!” Daniel exclaimed, leaping up to give Thomas a high five.

“Wait a minute, guys,” I said, trying to break the three dunderheads out of their rapture, “use your brains for a minute. I’m older and nobody will really care if I up and disappear. You all have parents, family and friends.”

“I’m going to get real magic, hot elf chicks, magic swords and everything demotivational posters said I wouldn’t ever have,” Jason replied, “screw ‘em.”

The other two enthusiastic idiots nodded in agreement.

“You might also get to know what it’s like to be doused in burning acid,” I rejoined.

Jason frowned, his thoughts wandering. “Maybe I can create a Wall of Powered Soap spell…”

I gave up and turned to Ryan, my last hope for sanity. He sat stunned, staring at the character sheet that lay on the table before him. “Ryan?” I called to him gently. He broke out of his reverie immediately. “What? Wait! Wait, we’re not leaving,” Ryan cried out in a panic, “I haven’t decided which character I want to be yet!”

My last hope crushed, the disembodied voice laughed as the black cloud expanded, engulfing the room in the darkness between worlds.

Before our intrepid adventurers enter the DnD world, they must face a test of might and mettle without a rulebook to guide them.

Beyond the Screen
By Dr. Bender

Chapter 2

The next thing we knew, we were falling. My feet hit the ground after only a few feet but, being unprepared for the impact, I face faulted into the hard, cold, dusty, stone floor. We coughed, hacked, writhed and groaned on the floor amidst billowing clouds of dust for a few minutes as our brains adjusted to the teleportation induced vertigo. The first to recover, I hauled myself onto my knees, checking out the room as I did.

We were lying in a dungeon room; that much was obvious. Brickwork reminiscent of medieval castles decorated the walls, floor and ceiling, vaulted to prevent the roof from caving in on us. It was a circular room with a single exit, the centre dominated by a wide pedestal atop which rested a variety of unusual objects the precise nature of which I couldn’t account for from my position on the floor. The pedestal, however, was decorated with embossed silver dragons and engraved Celtic knotwork. Curious, I picked myself up and took a few trembling steps forward.

Atop the pedestal sat a silver bowl engraved with a pentagram, the tips of which touched the rim. Sitting inside were five translucent crystal balls, each occupying one of the triangular points of the star. Beside the bowl sat an honest-to-gods scroll, yellowed and brittle with extreme age.

“Hey,” Ryan croaked at me, “a little help here?”

Nodding, I gave him a hand up and a pat on his shoulder, noticing that Daniel was doing the same for the others. Jason was immediately drawn to one of the iron lanterns that hung from a hook on the wall, literally oooh-ing and aaah-ing as he stared into the light from different angles. “It’s a Continual Light spell on a stone,” he informed us, “this is so fucking awesome!”

“All right, Elminster,” Thomas quipped, rubbing his head where he’d hit it on the floor, “care to inspect the pedestal for traps while you’re at it?”

Rolling my eyes, I circumvented the next few hours of possible indecision by picking up the scroll, causing a chorus of shocked shouts and gasps. “Dude!” Daniel admonished me, pale as a sheet. “You don’t just grab shit like that!”

“Anyone here have any ranks in Disable Device?” I asked, looking at all of them. My group shared a confused glance at each other in reply, giving me nothing more than a noncommittal shrug. “I didn’t think so,” I confirmed, opening the scroll as I spoke, “but look. The walls aren’t crushing us, there’s no pit traps and I haven’t keeled over from contact poison. I just saved us several eons of agonized indecision.”

Ryan chuckled, wiping his sweaty brow. “I see what you mean, was he really this bad at GenCon?”

“No,” Thomas muttered so that he thought I couldn’t hear, “that was nothing compared to GenCon.”

“Welcome to the DnD world,” I read from the scroll, partly to conceal the evil smile of satisfaction that was threatening to betray my joy at their despair, “in this bowl, thou shalt find the crucible of your transmogrification. Before you may leave the Tower of Testing, you must carry these crystal balls through three trials. How you act, approach, solve, succeed or fail these trials will determine who you will become before you face the wider world. Your new history will be written, along with new memories, skills, abilities and even bodies; though you will always remember your true origin. Take up yon crystals and bring the fight to the myriad forces of evil. Yours sincerely, Xagyg. Well, that explains things a little.”

I mused on the name written at the bottom of the page. Xagyg was one of the many alter-egos of one of the creators of DnD, a legend amongst gamers in his own time, the man who created an industry. By the lore, an eccentric mage powerful enough to build an artefact that could steal Godhood. Comparably, pulling a group of players into the fictional world of the game was child’s play.

Jason picked up one of the crystal balls and started waving it around. “Transform! By the Power of Greyskull! Pikachu, I choose you!”

“Gotta do the trials first, dumbass,” Daniel muttered as he took up his own crystal.

“I dunno about this,” Ryan admitted as he looked at the room with his crystal in front of one eye, the other squeezed shut, “the magic items the party got in the cartoon show were cooler.”

“Kid,” Thomas groaned as he picked up his crystal, “Tiamat’s probably still passing those through her digestive system. I don’t care so much as long as I don’t get the power of Heart. Seriously, what sort of lame ass power is Heart?”

Rolling my eyes, I picked up the crystal without a word and, since nobody seemed interested in the scroll, I tucked it under my arm as well. “So, I got the scroll, who’s trying the door?”

“No guts, no glory,” Daniel sighed, stepping up, “I’ll do it. Ryan, behind me, we’ll go through first; then Jason and Daniel on the other side and James behind them.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Why am I taking up the rear?”

“Age before beauty,” Daniel said with a wink.

Parties often adopt a standard operating procedure for opening doors during dungeon runs. You can never be too sure whether the next room is empty or if you’re about to run into the jaws of a Red Dragon, so it pays to have a plan. Daniel listened at the door for a moment before turning the handle and opening it as quietly as possible. Fortunately, it wasn’t locked and the hinges were oiled and quiet. “Clear hallway, another door at the end of the hall about ten feet along,” Daniel reported with some relief after taking a peek, “I’m moving to the next door, same party order, keep the noise down.”

We moved lightly, still dressed in sneakers, dirty t-shirts and trousers. My mind wandered, thanking whoever had built the place that it was warm enough that we didn’t need jackets. I’d just fallen into place behind Daniel when the door behind us slammed shut.

“Oh…” I only got half the oath out before the wrenching feeling of teleportation vertigo hit me like a sledgehammer.

#

Daniel emerged from a glowing silver portal as if a bouncer had shoved him roughly out of a nightclub, stumbling a few feet before he regained his balance. He couldn’t tell how big the room he found himself in was, a thick mist obscuring everything around him. Shadowy pillars loomed on all sides, the diffuse light not strong enough to properly illuminate anything but the fog that surrounded him. Aware that he was all alone, he stopped for a moment and listened, trying to make out any clue of where he should go next.

That was when he heard the feint cry of a child pleading for help.

Always a man of action, Daniel was running forward before his brain caught up with the idea that the noise might be bait for a trap. Pushing the doubt out of his mind, however, he surged ahead. The mists parted suddenly, revealing a short, green-skinned, humanoid that Daniel immediately recognized as a Goblin from the pictures in the Monster Manuel. It was standing over a blonde-haired human boy in a peasant’s smock, kicking him in the ribs repeatedly.

Enraged, Daniel screamed as he charged, seeing red for the first time in his life. The goblin turned, startled at the sound but screamed back in defiance, pulling a dagger from its belt. Daniel didn’t bother with niceties, skipping a step to kick the foul critter in the head, sending it reeling to the floor. Dazed, it didn’t see Daniel’s boot coming down on its face until the last moment, one last cry of fear reduced to a gurgling death rattle.

Making sure the thing was dead; Daniel knelt by the kid on the floor. “Are you ok?”

The kid sat up and nodded, cradling his ribs. “I think so. Thanks, mister.”

Daniel blinked as the innocent smiling face before him started to fade out of existence, dissolving into a bright golden radiance. The light swirled into a sparkling cloud that was quickly sucked into the crystal ball in his hand.

#

Jason rolled with the fall through the silver portal, landing in a crouch. Taking in the mist and the pillars with a glance, he moved in a half-crouch to take cover behind one of the pillars just in case someone was drawing a bead on him. No arrows, knives or bolts of lighting shot his way, however, so he continued moving from pillar to pillar after allowing himself a short breath of relief.

It wasn’t long before he heard the sound of a scuffle and the cries of a child. Peeking around one pillar, he saw the same situation as Daniel (though he didn’t know it at the time), a goblin kicking a human boy who was on the ground sobbing. Hefting the crystal ball in his hand, Jason decided that it was both heavy and solid enough to use as an effective bludgeon and crept out from behind the pillar while the goblin’s back was turned. The first blow caved its skull in, staining the crystal with blood, brain and bits of skull.

“You ok, kid?” He asked as he started going through the goblin’s pockets. Worried when he received no answer, he looked over his shoulder to find that the boy had disappeared. He gasped when the goblin’s body dissolved into red light that was quickly absorbed by the crystal in his hand, the blood on it evaporating as it began to glow.

#

Never the most co-ordinated of people, Thomas slipped as he came through the silver portal, falling heavily on his bony ass. Groaning, he picked himself up and stumbled forward, wincing as he rubbed the sore spot. He was totally oblivious to the sounds of scuffling and crying until the mists parted and he found himself staring at a goblin who was staring back as it stood over a whimpering human boy.

Thomas froze, not knowing what to do. The goblin wasn’t so indecisive. Its scream startled Thomas before it charged, pulling a dagger from the sheathe at it’s belt. The first blow was a headbutt into the man’s groin that doubled him over, the second saw the hilt of the dagger being rammed into his forehead, toppling him. Dazed, clutching the bleeding wound on his forehead, Thomas couldn’t do anything but groan as the goblin spat on him and scampered away.

The boy managed to get to his feet and limp over to Thomas, giving him a weak smile. “Thanks for trying to help, sir,” he said, before dissolving into a weird grey radiance that turned his crystal ball milky white.

#

Unbeknownst to him, Ryan discovered one of the tricks of overcoming teleportation vertigo by accident. He his gut reaction to the wrenching sensation caused him to blink, avoiding the usual embarrassment of stumbling or falling as he emerged from the portal. He also heard the scuffle and cries almost immediately upon arrival and moved cautiously forward, keeping an eye on his flanks as he moved ahead at a brisk walk. When the mist parted, he took in the situation and put on his best scowl.

“BEGONE WITH YOU, VERMIN!” He bellowed at the goblin, marching forward with purpose and hoping that the weird light and the mist would obscure the fact that he wasn’t armed with anything more than a glass ball.

The goblin bought it, scampering off into the mist without another word. Ryan knelt beside the boy, his first aid training kicking in. “Are you hurt kid? Let me see.” The boy looked up and smiled at him before dissolving into sky-blue vapours that slid peacefully into the ball.

#

I barely stopped myself from losing the contents of my stomach, feeling quite dizzy after emerging from the silver portal. Pushing the feeling away with sheer willpower, I took stock of the misty room and looming shadowy pillars and quickly but quietly moved behind one before proceeding forward from pillar to pillar. It wasn’t long before I heard the scuffling and the crying but I determined not to rush into anything until I knew more.

Peeking around one pillar, I saw the little pre-programmed tableau of the goblin and blonde-haired boy. I also took in the dagger that sat sheathed in the goblin’s belt, which started to ring alarm bells in my head. Goblins being evil humanoids, why would it kick the boy when it could just as easily slit his throat? Determined to find out more, I snuck around the pillar and up behind the goblin while it was preoccupied and deftly pulled the dagger from its belt before grabbing it by the back of the tunic and hauling him into the air.

The goblin did a lot of kicking and squealing but I held it at arm’s length until he got tired. “Are we done now?” I inquired as his legs slowed. “I just want to ask you a few questions.” Looking panicked all of a sudden, the human boy tried to scramble to his feet and run. I took the initiative and kicked his legs out from under him. “And you, stay down there until we get to the bottom of this.”

The kid whimpered and cried some crocodile tears, clutching his shin where I’d kicked him but I blew it off, turning back to the goblin. “Well? Why torment this boy?”

The goblin spat at the floor and answered in a voice that was half growl and half high pitched squeak, almost as if a small dog had gained the ability to speak. “That little pukata stole my coinssss! Give them back, thieving runt!”

I mentally filed the word ‘pukata’ away as an insult in Goblinoid languages. Looking down at the boy, I glared. “Is this true?”

He flinched and didn’t meet my gaze. “Of course not…”

I dropped the goblin and grabbed the kid, quickly searching his pockets. I found a few loose coins that I tossed to the goblin, which hugged them to his chest.

“Hey!” The kid protested. “Mom says stealing from goblins is ok because they’re all Evil!”

Sighing, I showed him the goblin’s dagger. “Kid, you’re lucky all he gave you was a thrashing. Now show me how you got in here in the first place...”

I blinked in surprise as the kid’s tunic slid out from between my fingers, turning along with his flesh and the nearby goblin into a pulsing purple light that poured itself into my crystal ball. I barely had time to retrieve Xagig’s scroll before I felt the wrench of another teleport and suddenly I was stumbling out of another portal in a circular room with more portals affixed to the wall.

“Yo, James!” Daniel said, hopping over and patting me on the shoulder. “A bit tense there for a moment, almost thought we’d lost you.”

I scanned the room, finding the other four, each with their crystal balls filled with a different coloured glow. Thomas had a bandage on his head made from Ryan’s shirt sleeve but everyone else looked fine.

“Let me guess,” Jason said to me, “Kobald kicking a boy? You did something and your ball got filled with this weird magic mist?”

I nodded.

“I kicked its ass,” Daniel skited, “Jason here snuck up and brained it. Ryan scared it off.”

I looked at Thomas. “Got your ass kicked, huh?”

Thomas had the good grace to blush. “It got the drop on me. What about you?”

“I disarmed it,” I shrugged, “found out the kid had stolen some copper pieces from its pocket and gave them back.”

Daniel looked at me like I’d grown a third head. “Dude… goblins are always Chaotic Evil.”

“Usually Chaotic Evil,” I countered, quoting the goblin entry in the Monster Manual from memory, “goblin could have stabbed the little bastard to death just as easily.”

“Meh,” Jason interrupted, “I should have searched the kid. You got here late, so everyone called dibs on the items already.”

I blinked. “What items?”

The guys led be over to another pedestal, beyond which stood an iron door. It was larger than the first one, probably in order to fit the five items that sat atop it. The first was a Longsword of fine make, engraved with dragons and rubies at the hilt. Next was a dagger, a dull blade with an edge honed to razor sharpness and a hilt bound with scaly black hide. Third was a silver amulet with an engraved rune that I didn’t recognize inside a perfect circle. Fourth was a ring inset with a diamond. Last was a large tome.

“Sword’s mine,” Daniel informed a little too possessively, “Ryan’s taking the amulet and Thomas bagsed the ring, of course.”

I looked at Jason. “Not the book?”

Jason shook his head. “It’s not a spellbook, I checked, just a bunch of maps and some bullshit history lessons.”

My interest piqued, I opened the book and scanned the contents. “Actually, this is just fine. We’ll need to know this sort of thing once we get out of here. So, when we pick these up, will the door open or will we get teleported again? Any bets?”

“Only one way to find out,” Daniel said, grabbing the sword. Since I was right there, I scooped up the book. It wasn’t until Thomas, the slowest of us, had pocketed the ring that the door swung open of its own accord, revealing a larger room beyond.

“Not going to put it on?” Ryan asked Thomas as he slipped the amulet over his head.

“Nah, don’t want to risk that it’s cursed,” Thomas said. Ryan grabbed the amulet as if it were about to burn him but nothing happened. Thomas smirked. “Don’t worry, I’m paranoid.”

Daniel and Jason brandished their weapons, obviously braver now that they were armed, and made their way into the next room. I followed with the other two taking up the rear. The room beyond was also circular and we found ourselves facing another pedestal. This one, however, had glowing blue magical runes hovering in the air above it. There were no other exits apart from where we’d come from. The floor was bare and dusty like the rest of this place, with a few bits of rubble on the floor from stones that had fallen loose from the ceiling. Jason, Thomas and I stepped up to the pedestal while Jason and Daniel did a lot of posing with their weapons on the pretence of searching the room thoroughly. Ryan simply wandered about, kicking pebbles.

“What do we think, guys,” I said to Jason and Thomas as we stared at the glowing blue runes, “solve the riddle, open the secret door?”

“No, look at this,” Thomas stepped up, pointing out various symbols. “See? They’re the same four symbols repeated randomly. Four by Four square, four of each symbol, sixteen in total. I’m betting it’s a simple sequence puzzle; we’ve just got to work out what the right order is.”

“Shit,” Jason muttered, “I never was any good at this.”

“You need to play more video games,” I said, never believing as I wiped the dust off of the pedestal that I’d be right. The same runes that were floating in the air were engraved there, concealed by the dust. A four by four square arranged in a progressive sequence with one rune shifted to the right and the end rune retuning to the beginning of each successive line. Curiously, the square was surrounded by two concentric circles of more runes, though these were different to the ones in the centre. “Guys, get ready,” I informed the other three as Thomas began arranging the runes in the right order, though we all seemed clueless as to what we should actually do.

“There,” Thomas said, placing the last rune with a flourish.

Several things happened in quick succession. The runes turned red and took their place at the centre of the pedestal, inserting themselves into the engravings. There was a grinding noise for a moment as the two outer circles of runes began to spin, the glowing blue runes emerging from the stone to float listlessly in the air. We all looked upward as the ceiling began to descend in classic DnD style, earth raining down on us from between the brickwork. One of us muttered an oath but for the life of me I couldn’t tell you which one of us it was as the words ‘we’re screwed’ were running through my head at the time. I wasn’t aware that my thoughts were prophetic until a spark of white light leapt from the pedestal and exploded in the middle of the room into a weird quadruped form. The creature was an insane amalgam with the head, talons and wings of a bird of prey before the body, hind legs and tail of a lion. It was also the size of a horse.

“GRIFFON!” I shouted, identifying the monster immediately. Unfortunately, it was faster than any of us, its raptor eyes fixing on Ryan who stared like a stunned mullet. The griffon leapt without pause, pouncing like a cat with talons and beak outstretched with a single beat of its wings.

Ryan screamed and threw his hands over his head, expecting to be eviscerated. I don’t really blame him for losing continence; I doubt I’d have had as much dignity as he did. I think he was more shocked than the rest of us when the griffon bounced as if an invisible shield had been placed between them.

Daniel recovered first, charging at the monster, yelling at the top of his lungs. He put on a good show of it as well, slicing the beast’s neck with the tip of his sword and distracting it from Ryan. Fortunately, it looked just as unsure as to how to attack Daniel as Daniel did holding the blade. Jason was about to join the fray with his dagger but I grabbed his elbow. “Jason,” I shouted over the clamour, noticing that Thomas was slipping the ring onto his finger, “engineer, slow the ceiling down!”

Realization dawning, Jason nodded and handed me his dagger while he ran off, grabbing a brick before attempting to scale the wall. Great, I thought to myself, looking at the dagger in my hand, I just volunteered. Grabbing Thomas’ shoulder, I turned him around to face the pedestal. “Solve this!” I shouted. He nodded, letting me know he understood.

By the time I was able to turn my attention to the battle, things were looking bad. The beast had Daniel backed against the wall and was testing his defences with short snips of its beak and swipes with its talons. Ryan, however, was distracting it with small success by throwing bricks at it. Taking a deep breath, I dropped the book and scroll, tucked my crystal ball into my pocket, took the hilt of the dagger in both hands and charged. I wasn’t stupid about it. I timed my charge between Ryan’s throws and targeted the area between the thing’s shoulder blade and neck. I felt a measure of triumph as the blade sank into flesh like a hot knife through butter.

My victory was fleeting. Screeching in pain, it glared one eye at me to let me know that it was pissed off before slamming its head into my chest, sending me hurtling into the wall and knocking the breath out of my lungs, leaving the dagger still in the wound. Daniel took advantage of the distraction to dart past it, giving it a swipe with the sword that cleaved its left wing from its shoulder. To add insult to injury, Ryan scored a good shot, bouncing a brick off the griffon’s head as it whirled around to face Daniel again.

We all shuddered when the squeal of gears announced that Jason had figured out how to jam the ceiling. What we weren’t expecting was the engineer student’s leap from his perch on the wall and on top of the griffon, retrieving his dagger and depositing it back in the creature’s eye. Daniel joined in, lunging to bury his sword up to the hilt between the creature’s ribs, searching for the heart. Leaving that fight to them, I hauled my shaky self to my feat and leaned against the pedestal.

“Jason’s bought us some time,” I told Thomas as he busily played with the runes in the air.

“I can’t get these things in order,” Thomas said through clenched teeth, scowling in frustration. “They keep floating away! There’s too many!”

Considering the runes floating in the air, I reached out and grabbed one of the weightless slivers of light, noticing that I could hold it perfectly well, even if I couldn’t feel it. Looking down at the rotating circles, I picked out the same rune and placed the glowing one into the engraving. The rune immediately burst into red radiance. “There, rune for rune,” I pointed out. Thomas nodded and got to work.

I copped my scroll and book back up, checking on the other three. Jason and Daniel were finishing off the griffon still, who hardly had any fight left in him and was just barely keeping the two at bay. Ryan was puffing on the floor, red in the face and sweating bullets. I decided he needed a distraction. “Ryan, Thomas and I need your help.”

It took a few seconds but Ryan seemed grateful for my intervention and we quickly got the runes inserted. We felt another wrench as the last rune was slammed home, propelled through space and time once again.

You’ll forgive a storyteller; I’m sure, for presenting what happened next in an order that enhances the drama of the event. I assure you that I tell my story this way only so that you, dear reader, may feel the full gravitas of the situation. In truth, however, I wasn’t in any fit state to remember much except for the broad strokes, though I can infer much and doll it up with a little poetic licence.

Daniel landed with a clatter on the tall grass, surrounded by woodland under a clear sky. A bracing breeze brought with it the scent of pines and he allowed himself a few moments to breathe the fresh air and feel it on his face, laughing to himself. The clatter came from the plate armour that had appeared on his newly fit and muscular body, a body that was used to battle drill and hard travel. He was also now handsome, tanned and lantern-jawed beneath his helm, with a sword belted at his hip.

He leapt to his feet, shouting and laughing in incoherent joy, his voice much deeper and more masculine. “Woah! Woah! You guys feel that? Hey, I’ve got armour now… and lookit these GUNS!” He said, posing to show off the thickness of his arms, which was impressive even encased in steel (or perhaps more so).

He grabbed Ryan around the shoulders as the new cleric stared, too enraptured to notice. Ryan was dressed in red and white robes over a thin suit of chainmail, a holy symbol of a design that I didn’t recognize around his neck. A mace hung from his belt, perfect for beating in people’s heads, though he looked like a more handsome version of himself compared to Daniel’s gross physical changes.

Daniel’s smile fell away when he noticed Jason staring daggers at Thomas, instinctively knowing who was who. I mention that, indeed, we did instinctively know which of us occupied which body despite radical changes in features of mannerisms. We just knew each other and that was that. It was therefore obvious why Jason was so upset and how Daniel managed to restrain Jason before he did something he might regret.

Jason was a Grey Elf, shorter and slighter than Daniel’s new body by a good margin. He was even shorter and thinner than Ryan now. He was wearing black leather armour festooned with straps and assorted daggers and blades, most of which could be covered by his dark grey hooded cloak. His features were now angular and sharp, even more than his lven heritage should dictate, with large dark eyes that were at once soulful, mischievous and dangerous. At that point, however, mostly dangerous.

Thomas, on the other hand, was still human. Dressed in a grey robe with embroidered silver trim, he looked a bit older and more gaunt, his dark hair worn to the shoulderblades bound in a series of ponytails. He also carried an ornate black staff tipped with a roaring dragon’s head, rubies inset in the eyes.

Jason screamed expletives as Daniel picked the little man bodily off the ground in a bear hug, preventing the elf from running over and clawing out his eyeballs, though he kicked and screamed in Daniel’s grip. “YOU SON OF A MOTHERLESS WHORE! YOU STOLE MY MAGIC! I’LL KILL YOU! I’LL KILL YOU!”

For his part, Thomas backed away slowly, looking like he was ready to bolt (whether this meant running or casting lightning, I could have probably gone either way).

“Jason!” Ryan snapped, his grave tone serious enough to cut through the rogue’s ranting and command attention. It wasn’t until they noticed that Ryan wasn’t staring at them or himself that they followed his gaze, turning their heads in unison to where I stood.

I was standing, in shock, knees shaking, staring at petite hands that grasped firm, dumpling-shaped, protrusions on my chest.

My hands.

My chest.

My breasts.

I was a woman.

Some challenges are greater than others, though this may be lost on most of our intrepid, oblivious, adventurers. For James, however, the challenge of not breaking his hand on foolish heads will be great indeed...

Beyond the Screen
By Dr. Bender

Chapter 3

I was a woman. The words bombarded my brain, ricocheting off the inner walls of my skull, repeating themselves over and over as if to test their sanity and validity. That alone might have pushed the limits of my sanity but, looking down at myself, there was much more to say. I was a HOT woman. A Kendrick male of the Lensman series would have called me a ten system call-out (a measure of the number of planetary systems worth of males would chase after me with their tongues hanging out, though I can say in all honesty that I could have depopulated whole constellations in this manner).

Beyond my petite hands and pleasantly rounded, though not enormous, breasts, I was a sleek beauty with a waistline I would have called impossible without PhotoShop if I couldn’t see it with my own eyes. Enhanced by a lovely teardrop ass, round hips and long, shapely, legs encased in skin tight laced leather pants with my feet in gorgeous dark red boots that had a heel just high enough to show them off without feeling uncomfortable. Later, I would surmise that their comfort was part of their magic.

My torso was held tightly by a leather corset worn over a blouse the same colour as my boots with a sleeveless crop top leather jacket that only came down to my ribs, leaving my shapely curves exposed. The sleeves of the blouse were bound at the forearm with a pair of magical bracers, leaving the material to puff out a little over my upper arms. I also wore a ring on each hand and a choker around my neck, all magical as well. Long, straight, light blonde hair fell over my shoulders mixed with several platted bangs. Reaching back I retrieved a small hand mirror from a pouch on the side of my backpack to check my face. What I found was shocking — shockingly gorgeous.

Smooth featured with great skin, a tiny chin, high cheekbones and gorgeous almond eyes, I had the kind of face that could melt a man’s knees from across the room with a glance and a smile. Stroking my hair behind my ear, I confirmed my new race with the reveal of a short, graceful, pointed tip. I was a half-elf, my mother had been a sorceress from the far away land of Zin-Kuei, my father a wandering High Elf.

At the same time, I was assailed by the memories of my childhood on the road; loved by my parents, scorned by society. Eighty years of memories and yet I looked like a girl of 19, marriageable age in most civilized lands. I was going to have to beat away humanoid males with a stick.

Although, I fondly remembered one night of romance with a young Elven boy culminating in a tender kiss under the stars that led to…

I shoved the memory into the back of my mind, locked it in a mental box and sat a boulder of rejection on top of it. I did NOT want to remember that, nor did I want to deal with the tingling sensation the memory was provoking over my skin. Fortunately, I was heavily armed, which meant I could defend my chastity if the need arose. And yes, I was actually thinking like that. Believe me, having two sets of memories and instinctive behaviours can be confusing.

“Um,” Jason interrupted my visual exploration, “James? Is that you?”

James, he called me, a name that no longer fit. I was Al’ressia Quilvue’ran Na Korechillic, or Ressia in the human tongue. I was a bard, a famed performer who could command the applause of princes. I slipped into the role naturally, as if I were shedding an old skin that had become worn and tattered. I came out of my reverie to find my companions looking worried, even Jason had forgotten why he was angry.

“I’m fine,” I lied, my hand coming up to my lips. My voice was high and melodious, even when I was speaking normally. “I… I’m Ressia, Half-Elven Bard. Formerly James… I… I think you better call me Ressia from now on.”

For a few minutes I didn’t know which of us was more shocked. The four of them did their best guppy impressions, eyes bugged out and mouths wide open. I might have found it comical if I’d been in my right mind. As it was, my every thought was drowned out by inner screams of panic.

It was Ryan who snapped out of it first, removing his cloak and wrapping it around my shoulders. “Enough gawping, guys,” he scolded, “can’t you see she’s in shock?”

Jason perked up. “I volunteer to do CPR!”

My body reacted by reflex, slamming my fist right between his eyes with enough force to knock him on his ass. “You don’t treat shock with CPR!” I growled through clenched teeth, shaking with rage.

“But it seems you can cure it by being a lecherous smart-ass,” Ryan noted under his breath, retrieving his cloak from the ground where I’d discarded it in haste.

“And you two,” I snarled, whirling on Daniel and Thomas, “eyes off the merchandise!”

At least they had the decency to be embarrassed. “Hey, what’s the big idea?” Jason whined, rubbing his cheek. Ryan slapped him on the back of the head before helping him up. “The lady punched you because you deserved it,” Ryan informed him, “and I hate to say it but we’ve got bigger fish to fry than our friend’s sudden gender change. In case you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of the wilderness.”

Jason, Daniel and Thomas glanced around, only now realizing where they were. The forest around us wasn’t like the woods of Earth, except maybe the wildest regions of the jungle. Even then, I doubt four foot tall toadstools are part of the ecology. We were standing in a small clearing bordered by standing stones, each with a rune carved on the inner face. Beyond those stones, however, was a wild, untamed, tangle of gnarled trees, twisted vines and a canopy so thick that it was hard to see more than twenty feet beyond the treeline.

It wasn’t Kansas that was for damn sure.

“I know we’ve all got new names and personalities now but I don’t think I have to remind anyone here that there’s such a thing as a Wandering Monster Table,” Ryan reminded us anyway. “And the chances increase after dark. We need to find shelter.”

Desperate for a distraction, I latched on to the job like a drowning man to a passing raft. Information rose to the fore of my brain, a wealth of knowledge as broad and deep as an ocean. I must have zoned out for a while because when I came back to myself I found the boys arguing over a map. They had it unfolded with a brass compass holding it down.

“You can see the mountains to the west,” Thomas pointed to where the peaks showed in the distance. “The coast is to the east. We should head in that direction and find a fishing village where we can get directions.”

“I know where we are,” I said, walking up to where they sat in a small circle on the grass.

“Are you kidding?” Jason argued, apparently not hearing me in the slightest. “There’s snow on that mountaintop, this continent’s tropical. I still say we’re over here, we need to head south to this road. We can follow that east to Hallowfel. I know some people who know some people, you know?”

“Uh, guys,” I said, raising my voice to get attention, “I said I know where we are.”

“We shouldn’t do things by half measures,” Daniel countered, still clueless to my presence, “there’s a chapterhouse of the Order a short way west on that road, we could get to Hollowfel much faster on horseback.”

I felt the veins in my temples throb. Were they deliberately ignoring me?

Ryan looked like a child caught between two arguing parents. “Come on, you guys, we have to make a decision!”

I’d never felt so angry before in my life. Before I really knew what I was doing, I whacked the top of Daniel’s helmet down so that it covered his eyes and stuck there. I then used the distraction to snatch the map moments before the paladin managed to reef the helm off his head. “What the fuck?!?” He swore, glaring at me, red-faced. I slammed the map back down in front of them. “We are here,” I informed, pointing at our exact location, “these are the Standing Stones of Caer Dur, the highest peak of the region that you can see there.” I brought my pointing finger up to draw their attention to an oddly shaped peak. “Caer Dur is a dwarven stronghold. A dragon once blasted the peak with magic attempting to invade the city below backed by an army of trolls. If we travel directly east, we can take this trade road south toward the down of Venifar, from which we have more options. Before that, though, we can take shelter in one of the forts along the trade road, they’re spaced evenly along the route to keep the ore flowing from Caer Dur. It’s patrolled but this is wild country, there are bandits, orcs and worse in these woods.”

They stared at me for a while, to a point where I thought I was going to have to teach someone a lesson again, until Thomas coughed. “Not that we’re not happy to have you back with us, princess,” he said, earning a warning growl from me, “but I have studied the arcane lore of these lands and I’ve never heard of these standing stones. How do you know they’re there if they’re not marked on the map?”

“Thomas… Vanad,” I said, knowing his new name without needing an introduction, “you’re what, in your thirties?”

He scowled. “I’m twenty eight… Vanad is, anyway.”

“Right, Ressia is eighty seven,” I explained patiently, “still a child by the standards of the elves but I’ve been travelling this world for most of my life. I’m a bard, dumbass, and if I remember my class table correctly, I’m about 10th level according to my spells. About the only people who might know more than me are specialist sages in their fields and I’m betting they don’t have my breadth of knowledge… or, of course, higher level bards.”

“What, we’re going to trust the chick’s sense of direction now?” Jason griped rhetorically.

It took a lot of willpower not to bust him in the chops again. “You know what? Fine. You boys sit around and circle jerk each other until dark, I am going east. If you’d like to be sleeping in a warm bed tonight I’ll let you tag along.” With that, I stood up from where I knelt, dusted off my knees and turned on my heels to begin the long walk east. Absently, I wondered why I’d been a girl for less than half an hour yet referred to the others as ‘you boys’.

“Is that an offer?” Jason called after me. I gave him the finger without turning around or even so much as breaking stride.

“Shit, dude,” Ryan scolded, “that was uncalled for. I don’t know about you guys but she seems to know what she’s talking about. I’m going with her.”

“Fuck, man, it’s not like she’ll give you any,” Jason retorted.

I’d made it clear soon after I’d met Jason that I didn’t appreciate his ‘jokes’ and if he mistreated any woman in front of me we were going to have words. It seemed that now that I was a woman, he’d completely forgotten my feelings on the matter. As I entered the forest with Ryan close on my heels and the sound of bickering far behind us, I found myself wondering if I should go back, cut his hamstrings and leave him for the crows. A half hour as a woman and I was already contemplating the murder of a chauvinist pig, though honestly I’d felt the same way as a man.

“They’re following us,” Ryan informed me as he caught up, though I was aware of Daniel and Vanad’s bumbling as they clumsily picked their path. Jason was faster on his feet, being both an elf and a rogue, but his angry muttering gave him away. I took some delight in picking my way through the uneven forest floor with ease, partly thanks to my low-light vision, a gift from my elven heritage. “Look, about Zenis… I mean, Jason,” Ryan continued, “you’re best ignoring him. I know this change is hard on you but in a weird way we’re all dealing with it. You gave us a scare going all blank like that, we thought you’d snapped. Jason’s dealing with it by being an asshole but he’ll get over it.”

“Ryan,” I sighed, glancing over my shoulder at him and noting that the others were about twenty feet behind us, “you’re a nice guy but you’ve seriously got to work on your judgement. Last year I came within a hair’s breadth of kicking Jason’s ass for harassing a girl gamer at an event. Since then he’s reigned in his impulses… but he’s in engineering. I think they test for a poor attitude towards females as a requirement for acceptance. It’s not just a coping mechanism, he really is an asshole.”

Ryan mulled that one over as we walked and I was glad for the eventual quiet as we fell into routine. I was also happy to be going first because it meant I could concentrate on keeping a lookout and not on the way the protuberances on my chest would bounce as I walked. My mind also strayed to the million gold piece question: why had I been turned into a girl?

I ran over what I’d done during the test to try and figure out if anything I’d done seemed to warrant an F next to gender on my character sheet but for the life of me I couldn’t think of anything. By talking to the goblin I’d solved the situation with social skill; by picking the book, I’d chosen knowledge over magic or fighting prowess and by organizing the others by pushing them into following their strengths and helping out rather than taking on a job alone I’d shown some classic qualities of the bard class. The others were obvious, except for Thomas who seemed to have fallen into his role rather than earned it. Wizards are among the worst hand to hand combatants, compounded by having every reason to dump their Strength score, and he’d taken up the ring due more to the fact that it had been the only item left. We had a Cleric, a Fighter and a Rogue, a balanced party needed a Wizard to round things out only I’d shown social aptitude where he hadn’t.

None of which indicated that I needed a change of gender, though I worried that my addiction to TG fiction had something to do with it. Before you jump to conclusions, allow me to explain. I wasn’t transgendered. What I enjoyed about TG fiction was the transformative aspect, a person changing their physical form into something else. I enjoyed a lot of fiction from that perspective like furry, superhero and otherkin stuff (otherkin are a group of people who believe they’re the incarnations of mythical creatures… considering what I now know, I’m no longer willing to rule out that they might be right). But I was not transgendered… or at least that’s what I kept telling myself at the time (but let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves).

I was keeping my eyes out for trouble, however, as we clambered through the ancient forest and the work succeeded in keeping me distracted and focussed. Nothing like the threat of death around every corner to remind you how good it is just to be alive. If anything, the woods got thicker and we were often forced to clamber over moss-slick boulders to make progress. Even the flatter ground was broken by tangles of roots that forced you to pick each step carefully, slowing our pace to the point where I wondered if we’d make the road by nightfall much less a nice, cosy, inn.

We were working our way around a tall hill when I noticed something amiss, thanking whatever part of my brain had nagged me to look up every so often. I made Ryan stop with a quick hand signal and waited while the rest caught up, holding my finger over my lips to indicate that they should be quiet. Then I pointed up at IT.

On earth there are bird-eating spiders the size of dinner plates that eat birds, snakes and rodents. Nothing quite awakens your childhood fear of spiders quite like a three foot long spider hanging on a web made of quarter-inch thick strands. I had caught sight of it because a stray beam of light glistened off its chitineous black carapace, otherwise I might have walked underneath it blissfully unaware; or straight into its web. In the game, giant spiders aren’t a big deal, at least ones this size weren’t. There’s a big difference between statistics on a page and the real deal in your face, however. I’m happy to say I wasn’t the only one whos heart was racing.

“What do we do?” Daniel asked in a whisper. “Go around? Will there be more of them?”

“Grown spiders are solitary hunters,” I whispered back, “though the anthropology we’re used to goes out the window in this world. I know an old school trick, though, giant spider webs are flammable. Torch the web and the spider gets tangled up in its own web and burns to death.”

“Good luck with that,” Jason whispered, “I’m not taking that thing on.”

“Actually, I was thinking Daniel…”

“Sir Altek,” Daniel corrected, looking a little offended.

“I was thinking Sir Altek should burn the web. Paladins have better fortitude saves.”

“Celton,” Sir Altek raised his voice slightly to call Ryan’s attention, “you got a Neutralize Poison memorized?”

Celton, the former Ryan, nodded.

“I’ll do it. Zenis, string your bow. If you get a shot, take it; just make sure I’m clear first.”

Zenis nodded. I strung my own bow without being asked while Altek moved forward, pulling a torch from his pack along with flint and tinder. Zenis glanced at me as I stepped up beside him and sneered. “Maybe you should stay back with Alton, sweetcheeks,” he said, sotto voice, “I wouldn’t want you to shoot me by accident.”

“True, it’s hard to tell one vermin from another,” I retorted, keeping my voice as low as possible, “but don’t worry, if I shoot you it’ll be on purpose.”

His scowl deepened as we pulled back out bows and took aim when Altek finally got the torch lit. The spider twitched, probably feeling the light and heat rather than seeing it. The thing was still twenty feet in the air, after all, and preferred hunting prey that had already been ensnared. Vermin aren’t the smartest creatures in the manual, by the time it moved it was too late, the webs were burning.

Giant spider webs are indeed extremely flammable; it was like watching someone throw a match into petrol. The spider actually screeched as it fell, wiggling all its legs and twitching, wrapped in fire. Altek backed off to give us a clear view and we didn’t disappoint, putting two arrows each into its soft underbelly. Finally, it curled up into a ball and ceased all lay still. The paladin prodded it a few times with his sword to confirm the kill before kicking it out of the way, the fire slowly dying out. The forest was moist, so there weren’t any secondary fires, if I’d thought that likely I wouldn’t have suggested it and Altek put the torch out by shoving the head into a patch of bare soil.

Slightly shaken, all of us reminded of the dangers we now faced, we continued on in silence, each of us glancing nervously about for signs of danger.

I can tell you one thing, since that day I ALWAYS look up.

One day in the fantasy world and all Ressia and her companions want is some hot food and a nice, warm, bed. Fate, however, has other plans.

Warning: This chapter contains a short explaination of the DnD alignment system. May cause drowsiness, irritibility, altered states of consciousness and spontaneous brain matter combustion. Sorry, everyone, but it's important to the storyline, please bare with it.

Beyond the Screen
By Dr. Bender

Chapter 4

The rest of that first journey through the wilds was uneventful. I refrained from skiting when we reached the road and the boys, except for Jason, mumbled an apology. Jason mumbled something about know-it-all bitches instead, which I felt was going to set the general trend of our relationship from that time forward. There’s definitely one thing that the game glosses over: dirt. By the time we emerged from the forest we were covered in mud, grime and sweat. I also discovered the hard way that females really do have a better sense of smell than males, if you ever wonder why girls are so compulsively clean, I’ll tell you I needed a bath just to get away from my own stench.

It wasn’t until we were a ways down the road, with Zenis and Altek up front, that I noticed the mud, dust and grime fading away until I looked like I’d been taking a pleasant evening stroll rather than a gruelling trek through untamed wilderness. A quick mental checklist informed me that this was a property of the Courtesan’s Choker that I wore around my neck, a minor artefact that also combined the powers of a Periapt of Health and a Periapt of Proof Against Poison, the first granting immunity to diseases both natural and magical and the latter fairly self explanatory.

This revelation led me to search my addled and abused mind for more information on my gear as we walked, which proved interesting. For starters, I discovered that Ressia didn’t think of things in game terms, she compared magical abilities to mundane items to describe their effects rather than the numeric system that James was familiar with. For example, Ressia’s memories informed me that her Bracers of Armour gave her protection roughly equal to wearing a suit of chainmail. James translated that into ‘+5 bonus armour class’. I also wore a Ring of Protection that enhanced my protection to the equivalent of a full suit of plate mail, with James noting that I’d still have my dexterity bonus on top of that making me surprisingly hard to hit. The second ring was a simple Ring of Feather Fall, an item that had saved Ressia’s skin more than once. My nice, light, backpack turned out to be a Handy Haversack, a storage item that could hold far more than its physical size could possibly allow (if you know Dr. Who, think Tardis). In addition, I was wearing Boots of Elvenkind that made me much stealthier and, more importantly, would save my feet from the rigours of travel. Ressia’s memory of life on the road before acquiring these boots made me wince.

So it was that we approached The Nymph’s Pool, an Inn that better resembled a small fort than a business establishment, just as the sun began to set. I counted ten guards with crossbows on the walls, with likely another ten inside waiting to take the night shift. Even as we approached I could see that several caravans were already inside, and it was likely that they had their own mercenary protection. I was also willing to bet that the King’s soldiers would have their own waystation inside, affording the landlord considerable protection. Indeed, it would take a small army of Orc marauders to sack the place, or perhaps a single older Dragon.

I watched Altek step up to talk to the gate guard with a small measure of surprise as the man, and it seemed most of the men on guard, were staring at me. I tried to ignore the stares but it didn’t keep me from feeling like a piece of meat being sized up for the cutting block.

“Sir Altek Lanzig,” the paladin introduced himself, “Order of the Golden Rose. My group and I seek food and shelter.”

The guard was a professional and it seemed that Altek’s title curried a measure of respect. They shook hands as the guard asked the formal questions; names, point of origin, destination. Altek did a good job obfuscating our true nature, spinning a tale wherein we’d sprung a teleport trap that landed us nearby and how we were bound for Hallowfel to rest and recuperate. I’ll admit, it sounded a lot better coming from someone reputable considering how crazy it sounded.

I couldn’t help but notice that everyone’s eyes followed me as we passed through the gate. Not us, though we were an unusual bunch, I tested my theory by pausing to adjust my boot as if I’d gotten a stone in it and heads paused with me. I moved on before conflicting emotions from both of my personas could overwhelm me, ignoring the slight glow of pride that welled up in my heart.

Inside the high wooden walls was a grubby establishment common to frontier outposts. The rooves were tiled and tarred to prevent fire attacks from burning the whole place down. A main two story building sat at the far end from the gate, flanked on the right by the barracks and the stables on the left. As we walked toward the main doors, an off duty guard gave me a wolf whistle on the way past. A mischievous urge suddenly took hold of me and, smiling, I waited until he was taking a swig from the tankard in his hand before flipping my golden hair as I glanced in his direction. He was still coughing and spluttering as we entered the tavern, one of his companions thumping him on the back.

“By the Seven Heavens, Ressia,” Altek scolded.

Grinning impishly, I shrugged. “I don’t know why I did that but it felt good.”

“Perhaps you should try to attract a bit less attention,” Vanad murmured, pretending to cough into his fist. I wondered what had gotten into him at first until I noticed the room. You know that scene in just about every western where the hero walks into the bar and everyone stops what they were doing and stares? It wasn’t as bad as that, not dead silence, but when thirty or so people are staring at you for the first time it feels like the world is grinding to a halt. Of course, what was a first time for James was old hat to Ressia, her instincts rising to the fore.

“Get a table and order some food,” I muttered, “I’ll be with you all in a bit.”

Altek frowned. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I grinned impishly as I walked away, deftly weaving through the crowd with a not-too reassuring wave of my hand. I caught a glare of envy from one of the serving girls as I stepped past, an older human woman in her thirties who’s wrinkles were already starting to etch her face. Some sort of sixth sense warned me of an impending goosing by a particularly bold drunk, enabling me to slap his hand sharply yet casually before he ever got close much to the delight of the snickering crowd. The barman looked a little nervous by the time I was leaning against the counter, waiting for service. I waited for all of a few seconds.

“What’ll it be, miss?” He asked, forcing himself to stare at the tankard he was wiping dry rather than at me.

“Wine,” I informed him, though James wasn’t a drinker, Ressia was a connoisseur, “and permission to play.”

He glanced at me, surprised. “I doubt I can afford you.”

“Consider this one on the house,” I quipped with a smile.

He chuckled. “Be my guest.”

I retrieved my lute from the depths of my Handy Haversack as I made my way to the fireplace, pulling an empty chair away from a table to give me a place to rest. I dropped a few of my things on the floor nearby where I could keep an eye on them and pulled my hair over one shoulder to keep it out of the way as I sat, crossing my legs by reflex. I’d never played before but the lute felt comfortable in my hands and my body was tingling with excitement. Ressia loved performing and was in her natural element on the stage, playing an audience with all eyes on her. So I played, strumming the lute with practiced ease as I raised my voice in song.

I proceeded to bring the house down. I sang ballads and odes to love and joy from the far corners of the world, raising spirits to dizzying heights. Then, when the mood was right, I brought them down with sweet lullabies and elvish laments. Finally I exalted them once more, leaving the stage to a chorus of cheers and stomping feet. I didn’t have to ask for a room, the bartender threw me a key without a word and ordered food sent to my room. Finally sipping some wine, I gave my companions a wink before ascending the stairs, enjoying the stunned looks on their faces.

I was high as a kite, physically aroused from the performance. The room was nice, cosy and clean and I took some delight in kicking off my boots and throwing myself onto the soft mattress without spilling a drop of my wine. Stretching, I unbuckled my corset and discarded it on the floor, breathing a sigh of relief. It wasn't long before I was disturbed by a timid knock on the door but I could smell the aroma of roasted beef, freshly baked vegetables and gravy through the door. My stomach didn't have to girgle to remind me it was empty but it did so anyway and I found myself giggling as I opened the door.

The serving girl I found outside was young, pretty and blushed cutely as she stood there holding the tray of food. Her blush deepened as I took her burden from her with a grateful smile and placed it on the small table across from the bed.

“Um, can I ask you a question?” She asked, gingerly stepping through the door.

I bit back several sarcastic replies, figuring she was too young to appreciate them. “Sure,” I replied, taking a small bite out of a sweet potato and savouring it for a few moments.

“Where did you learn to… sing like that?” She asked hesitantly.

The question brought over eighty years of memories to the fore of my brain, which might have provoked me into hysterics except that the memories were generally pleasant. I remembered wandering from town to town with my parents, watching the stars with my mother under the night sky, practicing various arts every night as a little half-elf girl. By the time I was twenty, I had a reputation as a child actor that carried with me into a long puberty. Such was the way of Half-Elf physiology, caught between the short span of Humans and the virtual immortality of the Elves. I’d lit my mother’s funeral pyre at the age of forty; she’d died of old age. Never the same, Father had returned to the land of the elves to ease his grief while I chose to continue wandering as before, with no place amongst my Father’s kind. It was with world-weary eyes that I looked at the young girl before answering. “Decades of practice and a patient father. Would you like to sit for a while?”

She positively bubbled with enthusiasm, closing the door and taking up the chair opposite, carefully arranging her skirt. “I’d love to! I’ve got the rest of the night off now; it’s so good to finally get off my feet.”

Having worked taverns before, and even less reputable establishments for one reason or another, I could sympathize. I finished off the wine in my glass and retrieved the new bottle from the tray, already uncorked, and poured myself a new glass. Lifting the goblet to my nose, I savoured the bouquet.

You’ve probably been able to surmise that Ressia is a consummate actor. It was her skill that enabled me to act naturally as I casually put down the goblet and smiled, picking up the empty goblet that had come with the rest of the meal so that I could fill the glass. “Sorry, where are my manners,” I apologized, still smiling, “you really should try some of this, it’s exquisite.”

My suspicions were confirmed by the drop of sweat that trickled down her forehead; she was a good actress but not good enough. My eyes wandered to her hands, which were folded on the table, noting the calluses that come from weapons practice and the barest hint of the stains that come from practicing herbal alchemy. “Um, no, that’s all right,” she refused, even as I poured, “daddy doesn’t let me drink wine yet.”

Her innocent airhead act was good but she wasn’t fooling a fooler. Fortunately, I didn’t need her to be willing to accept the goblet and drink from it. One of the less powerful Bard spells in my repertoire, called Beguiling Gift, could force her to accept the goblet and drink if she didn’t have the will to resist me. All I needed to do was expend a little more effort and I could cast it without the usual incantations by using the art known as Metamagic to the initiated. It made the low-level spell expend as much energy as a higher level one but being able to cast spells secretly was a boon. I cast the spell as I offered the goblet to her, looking into her eyes.

She blinked and, for a moment, I thought the spell had failed. Then she took the goblet from me and drained it in one gulp. The sequence of emotions that played across her face was darkly comical. At first she looked shocked at what she’d done, eyes wide in alarm. Then the magic of what she’d put in the wine took hold and her expression went slack. Then she stared at me and the dumbfounded look gave way to the deepest, purest, abiding love and admiration the likes of which most people would never know (unless they also possessed a Philtre of Love, quite a nasty potion that acts quite like it sounds). What I wasn’t expecting was the sudden upwell of desperation and terror as she grabbed my hand.

“I’m sorry! I’m so, so sorry, my love!” She begged my forgiveness desperately and I must admit the total change in her attitude creeped me out (not that I felt sorry for her, since she’d tried to do the same to me). “We have to get out of here now! They’re coming!”

She stood up abruptly and went to peek out the window, leaving me half-standing over my meal. “Who’s coming?” I demanded. “What’s going on here?”

“Quiet, they might be listening,” she said, looking around outside for a moment before returning to wrap her arms around me. Ressia remembered similar moments, some platonic and some more intimate, with other girls and somehow I felt comfortable returning the gesture. “I’m sorry. My name is Kendra,” she introduced herself, talking at a rapid pace; “I’m an initiate in the Circle of Fallen Leaves. The Grand Druid sent us to capture you and the others; the Gods of Nature spoke to him, he knows who you really are! Please, you have to run away with me before they get here, we don’t have much time…”

The same impish urge that compelled me to flirt with the men as we walked into camp made me silence Kendra with my lips. She responded with some enthusiasm and was meek as a lamb when we finally parted. “It’ll be ok,” I told her gently, “now tell me, what are we facing here?”

She drew in breath to speak but never got a word out. It’s hard to describe the terrible sounds that came next, or the screams that accompanied it.

I didn’t want to look out the window to see how deep in the shit we were. A Grand Druid is among the most powerful spellcasters on a planet, able to call the forces of nature to war if he so chose. Communing with his deity wasn’t quite the same as calling up a close relative for a chat but the effect was much the same, if said relative had the power to see into the future and alter reality at whim. I didn’t doubt that we weren’t fooling the gods and I knew that destroying a small fort in the middle of the wilds was child’s play to a Grand Druid. As I looked out the window, I prayed that we were unimportant enough that he’d delegated the work.

A lower-level woman would have crapped her pants at what she saw outside. Even so, I certainly had severe reservations. The initial sound of splintering wood had been the emergence of a Bullette from under the north wall. Resembling an enormous burrowing armadillo with large, sharp, teeth, Bullettes are also known by the name ‘Land Shark’, their primary method of hunting much like the aquatic predator they were nicknamed after; only on land, of course. By the time I peered out the window, it was already snacking on several guards with more lying buried under the rubble.

The Bullette would have been bad enough if several Treants. If you’ve seen Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers, you know what a Treant is, they’re identical to the Ents from that movie; huge, walking, talking, trees that can tear apart houses and stomp grown men underfoot. The caravan guards had already formed up around their wagons on the south side, shooting flaming arrows into Treant’s foliage. Unfortunately for them, the flames weren’t catching and I made the intuitive leap that the Treants had been warded magically from their greatest weakness. That meant that the druid in charge of the attack was still out there somewhere in reserve, which wasn’t good at all.

I was considering the best way to escape when Altek decided to charge out of the tavern right at the Bullette, his glowing sword held aloft as he yelled a battle cry that would have curdled the blood of an intelligent enemy. And with that, all hopes of escape were dashed. The Bullette answered Altek’s roar with it’s own, more impressive, version before leaping to the attack. The paladin hadn’t really expected the thing to fight back, sliding to a halt before the thing pounced, desperately blocking it’s foot-long burrowing claws that would serve just as well eviscerating plate mail as it would boulders with his magical sword and dancing backward to avoid the giant snapping jaws that could swallow him whole. His return strikes didn’t do much more than scratch the beast’s carapace, a testament to the legendary toughness of the Bullette’s hide. Fortunately, the Treants were too busy crushing buildings and guards to deal with Altek.

It wasn’t until I heard the crash of limbs striking the south wall that I remembered an important little fact. Treants in DnD can animate any and all regular trees within one hundred and eighty feet of itself. Combine that with the fact that we were surrounded by forest and the need to escape with all haste hit me like a dump truck. Consider the idea of an entire forest picking itself up to try and kill you… terrifying isn’t it?

I didn’t bother putting anything on other than my boots and sword, shoving everything else into my haversack (including the spiked bottle of wine that I plugged, the bartender having the sense to leave the cork on the tray with it) before leaping out of the window with Kendra hot on my heels. As serendipity would have it, I slid down the thatch roof to the ground, landing just as Celton and Vanad burst through the front doors, the wizard immediately turning to blast whatever was chasing them with a bolt of lightning that made the little hairs all over my body stand on end and filled the area with the stink of ozone and charred wood.

“Weretigers!” Celton reported, eyes bulging and red in the face from his ordeal. “Hiding in the crowd!”

I cursed but I had to admire the elegantly evil nature of the ambush as a long time DM. It was the sort of thing I’d have done to my PCs. My admiration turned to horror, however, when I heard the screams from inside and the horrible, wet, sounds that accompanied them. Vanad had a front row seat and, I can tell you, he was pale and the look of terror in his eyes. In that light, I don’t blame him for what he did, casting Wall of Ice across the doors and windows, sealing everyone inside with the weretigers. It was a hard choice but it probably saved our lives.

Calton grabbed my shoulders, the battle raging around us, and looked at me, pleading with his eyes. “Ressia… I don’t know what to do! What do we do?!?”

Now that our backs were covered, what to do wasn’t my problem. There’s an old saying on Earth that holds true to adventuring: know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em and know when the run like hell. Armies of Treants aren’t the sort of thing you can fight without a portable apocalypse in your pocket, so running was our only option. My real problem was that we had a paladin in our party who would be dead set on facing said army armed with nothing but a fancy iron toothpick and indomitable, yet perfectly futile, faith.

Some of the guards and merchants who’d escaped the inn had already gotten the right idea and were running for the gates. Once the Treants were done with the barracks and stables, Altek was toast. The Bullette was wounded but so was Altek, blood dripping from rents in his plate mail where the beast had scored some good hits with its claws.

“Vanad,” I ordered, pointing at the Bullette, “roast that sucker!”

I admit, I was trusting Vanad’s judgement not to roast Altek along with it but my faith in my companion’s grace under fire was rewarded. He gave me one nod before casting another lightning bolt from his fingertips, the crackling energy peeling away the monster’s hide, charring and burning the flesh beneath. It screeched a high-pitched note of pain as it disintegrated into ash and cinders. I felt the backwash of the blast and I can tell you, I never wanted to be hit by one of those spells. I’ll admit, though, that I was faintly envious of the firepower, Bards don’t have access to combat magic of that magnitude.

All that didn’t matter at the time, however, I was running for Altek before the spell was even completed, quickly casting a healing incantation so that it was ready when I slapped the paladin on the shoulder. The magic did its work, the bleeding stopped immediately. “Daniel,” I shouted over the din, using his former name to grab his attention, “we’re surrounded, outnumbered and outgunned. We are leaving, soldier, NOW.”

I held my breath for a moment, hoping that he’d be smart. I really didn’t want to have to use a charm to get him to do what I wanted. He looked at the Treants on both sides and the front of the inn covered in Vanad’s wall of ice. The guards and those patrons that had escaped were already fleeing for the open gates, it was only a matter of time before the rest either routed or were crushed. I saw regret in his eyes the moment he made the decision. “You’re right. Where’s Zenis?”

I had forgotten about our caustic rogue, I swear! You really thought I was trying to leave him behind on purpose, didn’t you? Nobody was questioning Kendra’s presence, notice; I think they figured she was following us because we were her best bet for survival.

“He scarpered after you ran out the door,” Celton reported with some bitterness, “we haven’t seen him since.”

“Come on, run now, think later,” I advised, leading by example as I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me. The others did the same without question, Altek running slower at first but quickly catching up to me, with Kendra and Celton equal third and Vanad puffing along behind.

It was every man and woman for themselves. I saw one of the caravan guards slit his master’s throat to steal a horse, only to see the man snatched from his saddle by a giant branch, the horse bolting past us and through the gates, riderless. Others made good their escape. I didn’t see anyone who looked like kitchen staff and hoped they had a secure bolt hole to hide in. Hiding wasn’t an option for us, unfortunately, the Treants and whoever was behind them wouldn’t stop until we were dead. Pardon my selfishness but I wasn’t about to martyr myself.

Relief washed over us collectively as we passed through the gate but we weren’t foolish enough to stop running or even slow down, turning south on the trade road. I knew I was running on adrenaline, my belly aching from lack of food and my muscles burning. Altek moved like a machine, even outpacing me despite my head start, but the rest of us were pushing ourselves. Even so, we pushed ourselves until Vanad fell on his face, his legs giving out. We all ground to a halt, puffing, while Celton went to render aid to Vanad.

“Think we lost them?” Altek asked, getting his breath back first.

“Hope so,” I answered between breaths.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, milady,” a new voice said from the shadows of the forest, “but I’ve been waiting for you to wear yourselves out for quite some time.”

We all froze, staring into the shadow from where the voice had come. The brushes parted by themselves; moving to make the being’s passage easier as it emerged into the moonlight. It was a tiger, long, sleek and large, about the size of a horse. As it stalked forward, however, it changed, shrinking even as it rose up onto two legs, fur shifting into hair and clothing. In moments, an older human man stood before us in well worn travelling robes, barefoot. I estimated that he was about fifty years old, steel grey streaks in his chestnut brown hair.

“Father,” Kendra gasped, looking scared and guilty before gaining some determination. She stepped in front of me, blocking his line of sight. “Please, father, don’t hurt her!”

“Ressia?” Altek asked, giving me an accusatory look.

“I’ll explain later,” I answered, keeping my eyes on the druid.

“Bravo, Bard,” the old man said, miming applause, “it seems you’ve foiled the plot in mind for you. Ressia is it? Allow me to introduce myself; I’m Lornel Gallo, a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Charmed,” I muttered sarcastically, “almost.”

“Witty,” he complimented without smiling. “As much as I’d love trading barbs with you, however, I have an offer for you that might speed up proceedings. Run away with my daughter and leave these others behind. I promise not to chase your for, oh, a week should do it.”

Kendra practically threw herself at me, begging with her whole body. “Please, Ressia, I don’t want either of you to die. Run away with me, we can escape to where he’ll never find us.”

My stalwart companions were staring daggers at me. I rolled my eyes. “Come on, he’s sooooo lying,” I sighed, glaring at Lornel. “He’s buying time for his allies to finish up turning The Nymph’s Pool into kindling and track us down.”

Celton frowned. “But why us? We never hurt anyone!”

“They know who we really are,” I answered. “I don’t know why it makes a difference to the Circle, though. What’s a few more people in the world to you?”

Lornel scowled, shaking his head. “You have no idea what you’ve done, the balance of nature has been broken, history and events were re-written to integrate you into our universe. You don’t belong here, so we require your death before you doom the world we have sworn to protect. The gods have shown the Great Druid the future cast in iron and fire and blood. You are the heralds of our doom and I regret that your death is necessary.”

Looking at him, I found Lornel to be the most frightening person I’d ever met. His eyes didn’t burn with fanaticism or hate yet at the same time he didn’t have regret in his heart. He didn’t care if we were good or evil; indeed he didn’t care if he was good or evil himself. We were just on his ‘to do’ list. Milk, eggs, sugar, kill adventurers, pick up kids from school…

I realized my mistake a moment too late. Vanad wasn’t about to wait for the Treants and Weretigers to catch up to us to have a showdown and he probably thought Lornal was ignoring him. He started casting as soon as he got his wind back. Unfortunately, Lornal wasn’t stupid enough to forget the wizard. Celton shrieked when a Dire Tiger, this one not a druid using shapeshifting magic, pounced from the bushes behind them, landing both front paws on Vanads back and crushing the frail man into the ground. One bite of its fearsome jaws eviscerated the wizard as it raked with its hind legs, tearing him apart in a shower of blood and gore.

A lot of things happened at once in the next few seconds. Celton was screaming, covered in blood as he scrambled away from a tiger the size of a truck. Altek was shouting another battle cry as he charged the beast, taking a paladin’s natural immunity to fear to new heights of stupidity. Lornel watched me with some amusement as I reached for my sword, hindered by Kendra who was trying to drag me away, imploring me to run.

So it was that I was watching Lornel’s face as a nice, solid, foot of sharpened steel burst through his chest. His wry smile faded as he looked down in confusion at the blade that had pierced his heart, wondering how the hell that had gotten there a moment before he died. The blade disappeared the way it had come and the druid fell forward, revealing Zenis standing behind him holding his now bloody short sword, the rogue’s form blending in with the shadows.

“FATHER!” Kendra screamed, falling to her knees and weeping in despair. I didn’t have time to comfort her, however, as Altek slashed the dire tiger’s eye, provoking the beast into a roar that shook my bones before it lunged at the paladin, knocking him down. A quick mental checklist told me that I only had one damaging spell in my repertoire, so I cast it. Taking a deep breath, I screamed.

It wasn’t a normal scream, of course. It was a scream with enough sonic energy behind it that the tiger’s fur disintegrated where the cone of effect touched it. The skin beneath was rent into a bloody pulp even as its eardrums burst. Unfortunately, Celton has just wiped his face clean when tiger blood sprayed over him. Blind in one eye, deaf and grievously wounded, the tiger wailed before turning tail and running back into the forest at full speed.

“Sorry I’m late babe,” Zenis drawled, “miss me?”

Considering that the rogue had just saved our collective asses, I bit back the nasty comment that came to mind and settled on a more sarcastic tone. “Congratulations, you’re just in time to help retrieve Vanad’s stuff.”

The elf paled when he looked at the bloody smear that used to be our friend and, for once, was at a loss for words.

“Celton,” Altek said, suddenly looking away from the wizard’s corpse, “you can cast Raise Dead, right?”

Celton, however, was busy trying to wipe the blood off of himself, to no avail. I left Altek to deal with our cleric while I picked Kendra up off the ground and hugged her. She was the enemy, even though I’d charmed her, but she had just seen her father die and I had enough sympathy for that.

Then something weird happened to Lornel’s corpse. At first I thought it was just muscle spasms or death throes but they started to get more violent. Zenis, Kendra jumped when a ghostly image in the form of an owl burst from his back, pausing a moment to spread its wings before shooting into the night sky.

“What the FUCK!” Zenis shouted, stumbling back from the druid’s corpse.

“Some sort of contingent reincarnation spell,” I surmised, drawing again on Ressia’s knowledge of our new world, “we haven’t seen the last of him after all.”

We didn’t have time to tarry and it took some tough love to break Celton out of his stupor. That’s code for Zenis slapping him so hard he came close to breaking the cleric’s jaw. We got him pulled together, healed up and washed the worst of the blood off his face so that his brain could reboot and reformat into something resembling normalcy. Then we went about the grizzly process of gathering Vanad’s body and possessions. Fortunately, Zenis could carry the wizard’s backpack without any problems but Altek got the unenviable duty of carrying a sack filled with bloody meat.

Funny how the game glosses over little details like that, huh? I can’t remember how many times a character of mine has scraped a companion’s remains into some sort of container so we could cart their asses back to get resurrected but I’d never considered how gross the process actually was. We would have gotten Celton to cast the spell right then and there but the cleric wasn’t in a fit mental state for spellcasting. Believe me, Raise Dead isn’t the sort of spell you want to flub.

Once the cleanup was done, we started walking. We were too exhausted to run anymore, so we had to pray that the Treants and Weretigers would wait for their leader to finish his reincarnation, which would take a few days as the spell built a new body for him safe under the earth. As we walked, I comforted Kendra while interrogating her about the Circle of Falling Leaves.

To understand where the Druids fit into DnD’s cosmology, you have to understand the alignment system. I’ve delayed this talk for as long as I can because it takes some explaining. In the game, a character’s alignment represents their general moral outlook on the world as well as they types of gods, philosophies and planes that their views align with. It’s not a hard and fast classification, it doesn’t delve into specifics and it doesn’t mean that someone with that alignment will never act out of accordance to its alignment. In general, however, a being will follow its principles.

There are five axes of alignment: Good, Evil, Lawful, Chaotic and Neutral. Combine any two of these and you get an alignment, but only Neutral can be combined with itself. The nine alignments are therefore: Lawful Good, Chaotic Good, Neutral Good, Lawful Neutral, True Neutral, Chaotic Neutral, Neutral Evil, Lawful Evil, Chaotic Evil.

Read that a few times if you like until you get a handle on it before moving on.

Lawful Good beings in general believe that order is right. They believe in truth, justice and working together for a better tomorrow. Paladins like Altek are required to be Lawful Good, being the DnD equivalent of Superman. If you want a darker side to Lawful Good, however, I’d point to Dirty Harry. Harry believes in the law and doing the right thing but that doesn’t stop him from doing bad things to bad people. Cultural bias back on Earth has DnD’s official line being that Lawful Good is the ‘best good’. I can tell you from personal experience, however, that being Lawful Good doesn’t prevent you from being a dick.

Chaotic Good beings are interested in doing the right thing, being happy and helping people as well. It just happens that they don’t give a fuck about the law. The classic Chaotic Good hero is Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. The flip side to Chaotic Good is the vigilante that quite happily murders criminals rather than bringing them to trial.

Neutral Good is a little more nebulous, like most neutral alignments. Law and order doesn’t matter to a Neutral Good person like it matters to Lawful and Chaotic Good beings, they see both attitudes as having a time and a place. What matters to them is doing good. The classic Neutral Good character is a philanthropist, giving freely of themselves without asking for anything in return, even going so far as to offering redemption to evil creatures heedless of their own safety.

Lawful Neutral creatures follow the rules without question. A good example would be Judge Dredd, applying the law dispassionately and dispensing justice without conscience. Emotions and feelings don’t have a place in their hearts, the rules are there to be followed and they must be followed so that order may flourish.

Being True Neutral means different things to different people. You might just not give a crap about anything and just want to live your life without ever considering your morality. You might believe in striving to balance your karma, walking the tightrope of good, evil, law and chaos. You may take the position that ideals are for chumps and extend your empathy only to certain people. You may even believe, like the core Druidic philosophy states, that you should integrate yourself into the natural world and nurture the planet by whatever means necessary.

Players often make the mistake that Chaotic Neutral is a license to act like an idiot. Sure, the alignment does include the hopelessly delusional lunatics who hold detailed conversations with walls but most members of the alignment simple value their own freedom without the hang-ups of needing to either help or hurt others with that freedom. Consider the jester that points out the flaws of others but never does anything personally to correct them or the hermit that lives out in the woods and just wants to be left alone. Or even the wandering bard that has no time for a society that rejects them and continually travels so that familiarity cannot breed true contempt.

Things start going south with Neutral Evil. Neutral Evil builds selfishness into a philosophy. There are two ways to glorify yourself above others: climbing over the bodies of your enemies and beating everyone else into submission. An example of a Neutral Evil action would be starting a war so you could sell arms to both sides or murdering someone for their shoes.

Your average corrupt noble stereotype is Lawful Evil. Think Darth Vader and you’ve got the right idea here. The law is a tool for power and personal aggrandizement. Forcing others to obey is their drug of choice, domination and submission the truest expression of human relationships, the strong are right to overpower the weak. Beings with this philosophy are dangerous because they’re organized and can work together towards goals. Betrayal is integral to the philosophy but no alpha worth his salt in a Lawful Evil organization will fall prey to such plots easily. After all, they got to where they are through betrayal and a strong survival instinct.

Finally, Chaotic Evil: mad, bad and dangerous to know. If you’ve watched The Dark Knight and seen Heath Ledger’s portrayal of The Joker, you’ve seen the face of Chaotic Evil with a sense of humour. Inflicting pain on others is their greatest delight, watching the world burn a wet dream. Lone serial killers are the most common Chaotic Evil dangers, though such beings do work together, just not well. Most commonly, groups of Chaotic Evil creatures form around a strong leader that can keep them in line through brutality and fear alone. Lawful Evil groups love their rules and strictures and pay lip service to hierarchy; Chaotic Evil groups have no rule but obey or die.

Each alignment has their own plane of reality and their own mystical representatives that inhabit those planes on the Great Wheel. It needs to be reiterated that the alignments aren’t hard and fast rules of behaviour. Lawful Good creatures stray from the right path in their adherence to rules or from hubris. Chaotic Evil creatures may love and laugh like anyone else. It’s just that they’re as likely to do it over your corpse.

Back to the Druids, however, they fit in the neutral area of the alignment chart. The core druidic philosophy is one of integrating yourself into the natural world. They concern themselves with preserving and promoting mother nature in all her forms, though they may disagree with each other individually as to how to go about it. Some see cities as inimical to their philosophy while others see nature’s hand in the ecosystem of human hives. The Circle of Falling Leaves, as Kendra explained to me, is a militant order of Druids that excise dangers to the natural order like cutting cancer from a human body. She was apologetic when she explained that she had thought of me as a disease to be cured rather than a person.

I admit that what she told me combined with what I knew of Druidic lore from both Ressia’s memories and my old life as James scared me. Imagine a group of people with magical powers to manipulate nature, shapeshift into animals almost at will and conjure natural disasters. Imagine that this group could turn a forest into an army of giants and recruit every beast on the face of the planet into their service. Imagine that they were highly organized and driven, believing implacably in the rightness of their cause. Imagine that they had no need for money, being able to live off the land and happy to eschew the trappings of civilization. Now imagine that they wanted you dead.

Not a pleasant feeling.

We didn’t stop walking until Zenis was about to fall over the next day. Grey elves are more dextrous and intelligent at the expense of physical strength and endurance, so it wasn’t a surprise when he called uncle before anyone else. In a way we were lucky that Vanad was dead, his constitution was worse than Zenis’ so we were able to put more space between us and the enemy.

Altek gave me a meaningful look as we rested in the shade by the side of the road that I interpreted as ‘we need to talk’. I agreed, so I bade Kendra to sleep and snuck away from her while she was under.

“What did you do to that girl?” Altek asked, accusation in his voice.

I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Nothing she didn’t try to do to me first. She brought me a meal that included a bottle of wine spiked with a Philtre of Love. Her father was trying the time tested and mother approved divide and conquer strategy, he just didn’t count on me being able to detect it. I used a minor spell to make her drink it instead.”

I didn’t mention that I had no idea what was in the wine until she drank it. You have to be careful with these little details when managing paladins, they’re touchy but luckily most aren’t too bright.

“And now she’s in love with you. Were you planning on breaking the spell?” He asked like a patient teacher that feels a paternal need to rebuke you for evils you haven’t done yet.

“Of course I was,” I said truthfully, my tone letting him know that I was disgusted that he thought I’d just leaver her like that, “it’s just a matter of when will be the best time to do it.”

He misconstrued what I meant, of course, and glared at me angrily. “Now would be the best time I think.”

“Are you really thinking on that score or are you acting hastily because you want to blame someone?” I asked calmly. “Let’s consider. Say I break the spell, what do we do with her?”

“You’re right,” he admitted. Bless his heart, I could see the gears working in his head as he mulled it over. “We should take her back for trial,” he finally decided, “she conspired to murder a whole bunch of people including us and tried to subject you to mind control. I don’t blame you for acting in self defence but she should answer for her crimes.”

“And for all we know, she’s high enough level to wild shape,” I countered, “think they build prisons that can hold a mouse or a cat around here?”

“The Order of the Golden Rose has cells to hold magical prisoners,” he informed me, “if we can get to a chapter house, I can have her incarcerated.”

“And we wait until then to break the enchantment? You know, she might be in love with me, Altek, but she’s not stupid. I doubt she’ll let herself be locked up willingly. Of course if we break the enchantment before then we’ll have drag her back, which frankly I don’t think we have the wherewithal.”

“Please don’t tell me you want to execute the girl,” he growled, “I won’t be party to anything like that.”

I shook my head. “No, that’s not an option either. Considering Lornel’s contingent reincarnation, the Circle obviously has no qualms about bringing its members back from the dead.”

“I hate having to leave her like that,” he said, shivering as he contemplated someone doing the same thing to him, “isn’t there a better way?”

“We can’t drag her back, you don’t want to kill her,” I said, ticking off his objections on my fingers, “you don’t want to leave her like this but you won’t consider letting her go. I have one suggestion but you’re not going to like it either.”

“Try me.”

“Another type of enchantment,” I offered, “I think she’s low enough level that a Lesser Geas will work. I’ll order her to follow us to your chapterhouse and hand herself in to custody without a fuss. If she tries to resist the compulsion, she’ll be wracked with unbearable agony until she complies.”

He winced. “That’s… horrible.”

“As horrible as throwing someone in a cell or ordering their execution? Face it, white knight, that’s what’s waiting for her at your chapterhouse, a quick trial followed by a swifter execution. Heck, they might even have to take measures to prevent the druids from reincarnating her.”

“If she repents for her actions and begs for leniency they might communicate her sentence,” he said, doubting the words even as they came out of his mouth.

I sighed, giving up on that line of debate. Never argue philosophy with a paladin, they just get on their high horse and nothing can bring them down to earth again. “Look, a Geas isn’t like the Philtre of Love. Believe me; I don’t like having a mindfucked slave following me around, particularly if we’re visiting a chapterhouse full of twitchy paladins that might not believe my story so readily. Honestly, it’s more like a magical chain that keeps her under control where physical chains can’t.”

“I think there’s something you haven’t considered,” Zenis said, from where he was pretending to sleep close by, opening his eyes.

“What?” Altek prompted him to continue.

“What happens when she gets to the chapterhouse and starts going on about how we’re unholy dimension travellers dooming the land to damnation?”

Altek shrugged. “We’re not dooming anything, I’ve sworn to defend honour and justice and I will do so.”

“And what does honour and justice compel you to do if they discover that she’s right?” Zenis countered. “Not that I think anything of the sort but what if some cleric communes with your god and he says ‘yeah, it might be better to take them out to be on the safe side, for the greater good’?”

I groaned inwardly, not because Zenis was wrong but that he just made the argument a question of faith. The look on Altek’s face confirmed to me that no more progress was going to be made on the subject before he even spoke.

“If my God demands my life then I will happily sacrifice it for the good of all,” Altek rebuked, “and I would feel compelled to encourage you to follow my lead, though I would balk at such measures, the greatest good will be accomplished and I will join my ancestors in Heaven. Now get back to sleep all of you, I’ll keep watch for now.”

I returned to Kendra feeling trepidacious, having caught Zenis’ dark look in Kendra’s direction. I admit, I’d been suspicious of Zenis since his attack on Lornel the night before. Lornel was a powerful, high level, druid. In game terms, Zenis had appeared to use the rogue’s ability to do more damage with a ‘sneak attack’, however that didn’t account for Lornal’s immediate death. Ever really thought about killing someone by stabbing them from behind? It’s not as easy as you’d think. Where do you stab someone? How do you hold the blade? How can you be sure to kill them immediately? Now apply that logic to a magical world where a ring can give you the same protection as a suit of chainmail or a spell can make your skin as hard as stone.

There was a class that could kill anyone with a sneak attack, however, without worrying about armour or damage. A class trained specifically in the art of killing by stealth. A class called ‘Assassin’. The problem? To qualify for membership, you have to be evil in the same way that paladins have to be good. I chewed over this fact in my mind as I rested beside Kendra, my guilt over having enslaved her making me worry if she’d live to see Altek’s chapterhouse.

I considered asking Altek if he’d used his paladin ability to detect evil on us (all paladins have the ability, it’s one of the most frustrating class abilities in the game) but seriously, how do you ask something like that? Hi, Altek, I was just wondering if you’ve been suspicious enough of us that you’ve checked to see if we’re evil? Yeah, like that’s not a one way ticket to an ass kicking from one of a thousand directions. Personally, I didn’t care if Zenis was evil as long as he kept his evil ass out of my face. If it became a problem, I would deal with it one way or the other but I wasn’t about to let him kill Kendra and, honestly, I wasn’t of a mind to hand the girl over to the executioner either.

Sure, she tried to mindrape and murder me but she did so for motives that, I have to admit, were noble from a certain point of view. It also occurred to me that we knew Kendra and Lornel were after us now and if we got rid of them the Circle would just send someone else after us, someone we couldn’t watch out for.

Besides, she was cute.

But that was totally not my main reason for trying to save her.

I swear.

Maybe?

The party finally arrives in what passes for civilization in the fantasy world, lulled into a false sense of security. Worse yet, they need Vanad back but someone seems to have their foot in the revolving door of the afterlife.

By the way, a Lich is a type of undead wizard that looks like a zombie. Not that there's anything wrong with that if you're into zombies...

Beyond the Screen
By Dr. Bender

Chapter 5

My first thought when I came two was a wish that I’d been able to come up with a better plan; one that didn’t involve getting cracked over the head. Worse yet, it had taken Kendra’s sweet little love-stricken heart three goes to put me down.

Like all good plans, I kept it simple. I gave Kendra a letter for her father after making her swear a most solemn oath not to open it and give it straight to her father as soon as she was able to find him. Just to be sure, I laid my Lesser Geas on her, giving her orders to that effect. She was angry at me but the love spell kept her docile and agreeable. The letter read as follows:

Dear Lornel Gallo,

It is with no regret that I must apologize for not allowing you to kill me. I do, however, regret the state that your daughter is currently in, despite the fact that I charmed her in self defence with the potion that she tried to give me first. I’ve sent her back to you so that you can break the enchantment and she can live out the rest of her life outside a jail cell if left to the devices of my paladin companion or six feet underground in an unmarked grave if the man who stabbed you has his way.

Do not mistake this kindness for weakness. If you come for me, I will do everything in my power to destroy you, your pet cat, your daughter, the Circle and anything else that you hold sacred. I am patient. I was here on this world before you were conceived and I will be here centuries after you depart your mortal shell. Come against me at your own peril.

Yours Sincerely,
Al’ressia Na Korechillic.

You might have noticed that I’d left out part of my full name. I’d been named by my father’s blood in the elvish way, taking five names that represented both my being and the bloodline of my ancestors. The first name was my elvish use-name unique to me, the second the short, humanized, version that the less developed civilizations could pronounce with greater ease (which is kind of insulting, practical and arrogant at the same time, which characterizes my father’s people fairly well). The third name was my secret name, composed by my mother who would hold on to it until I came of age and she gave it to me in a secret ceremony, upon which she immediately forgets it forever. And I mean that literally, the ritual of naming is recognized and enforced by the elvish deities (and in the event that a mother dies before passing on the name, the same deities hold it in secret until a new ‘mother’ is appointed by the child in question). My fourth name, ‘Na’, is my mother’s family name, which naturally isn’t elvish in my case. Last but not least, I possessed my father’s family name.

But back to more pertinent facts, the bruises made me wish in all honesty that half-elves weren’t immune to sleep spells. I hoped that Kendra had the good sense to fly to her father in bird form like I’d suggested rather than hanging around to see if I was all right. The last thing I wanted was for Zenis to catch her again.

My last act before being brained was to cast two spells that would help me deal with my companions once they were able to wake me up. The first, Glibness, enhanced my ability to lie to truly preternatural levels. The second, lower level, spell enhanced my ability to appear completely blameless and innocent of any and all suspicion. Together with my natural ability to lie like a devil with a forked snake for a tongue covered in honey, I probably could have sold ice to fire elementals.

I felt bad when my companions fell for it hook, line and sinker but I have to admit, fooling them was also kind of thrilling.

“Don’t blame yourself,” Altek consoled me as we continued walking down the trade road, “she fooled all of us with that act. I seriously thought she really was enchanted.”

“I had my suspicions,” Zenis lied, “but at least now she can’t go ratting us out. All due respect, Altek, I strenuously recommend omitting that particular detail next time you talk to your superiors. Not that I’d ever consider asking you to lie for us but things they don’t know can’t come back and bite them. You ask me, they get one extra paladin out there fighting the good fight, that’s gotta be worth something.”

Altek nodded slowly in reluctant agreement.

I mentally bumped Zenis’ threat rating up in my head from yellow to orange. His ability to lie and wheedle was almost as good as mine. Fortunately, he was abrasive and unpleasant most of the time and lacked breasts.

Speaking of which, there’s nothing like miles of hiking as a girl to make you appreciate the humble brassiere. I think it’s to my credit that after a day in a girl’s body I was starting to get more comfortable with it. It helped, of course, that I had a lifetime of memories as Ressia to guide me in the details of feminine hygiene and was wearing a magical item that eliminated the need to bathe and thus examine myself without clothes on (an inevitable confrontation that still made me nervous, so I wasn’t completely enlightened) but the important revelation that came to me was that despite the change I was still me. Lots of things were different, some more than others, but I retained my sense of identity. I was both James and Ressia and, to be honest, I was starting to enjoy being Ressia.

Our main problem was the seventy pound elephant in the room. An elephant that stank to high heaven, was covered in flies and oozed and indescribably fluid. Naturally, I’m talking about the sack that held the remains of our late, lamented, companion Vanad. You might be wondering why we hadn’t brought him back from the dead yet. The truth is, Celton was a powerful cleric who did indeed have the power to bring the dead back to life. He just wasn’t powerful enough to do it when the body had been eviscerated and partially eaten. When the body is that badly damaged, only the highest levels of spells will do the job without leaving the person in question horribly maimed.

So it was that Altek approached the gate guards of the next waystation, another fortified inn named The Rampant Stag, with the unenviable task of having to explain why he was carrying human body parts in a sack. Fortunately, respect for the Order of the Golden Rose and prior reports of the battle at The Nymph’s Pool got us past questions of foul play once Altek proved his paladinhood by spontaneously healing a few minor cuts and scratches (another benefit of being a paladin). Unfortunately, such respect didn’t extend to the smell Vanad was exuding and we were refused entry (the boys also reeked to high heaven due to not having had a bath for two days but eu de rotting corpse covers a multitude of stenches). As a concession, I managed to convince the guards to bring the stable manager out to trade with us and we managed to ride away from the establishment on the backs of four fine horses. I will say if there’s a positive side to no longer having testicles, it’s that riding a horse is infinitely more enjoyable, if the swearing of my companions was any indication. Personally, I found my first horseback ride quite bracing.

As we were setting up camp a cavalry column flying the king’s colours thundered past without giving us a second glance. “They’re from the garrison at Venifar,” Altek confirmed, “I doubt the knights from the chapterhouse will be far behind.”

“Awesome,” Zenis commented, “maybe they’ll take out those Circle goons for us.”

“No,” Altek and I both said in unison. We looked at each other. “You want to take this one?” I asked. “Ladies first,” he rejoined. I poked my tongue out at him before taking up the explanation. “Until we get to Venifar and the Kingdom of Anarhod proper, this is still the wilds. Heck, inside the kingdom isn’t that safe, it’s just better patrolled. Out here, the law lasts as far as the reach of your sword arm. Goblinoids, Orcs and Kobalds infest the mountains, the Fey, Druids and Elves rule the forests and occasionally there are pockets of real, eldritch, evil. The bad guys have their own gods who work to ensure that the good guys never get too much of an upper hand. In fact, the bad guys win most of the battles; they just can’t put the slam dunk on the war. Getting revenge on the Circle of Falling Leaves isn’t the priority for Anarhod, it’s making sure good dwarven steel gets down this road from Caer Dur.”

“Anarhod’s besieged from all sides, you’ve also got the underwater kingdoms off the coast, the Empire of Saquasim to the south and a bunch of assorted human kingdoms in the west as well and none of them really get along… you really don’t know any of that, Zenis?”

The elf shrugged. “First time I’ve ever been to Anarhod; never really cared much for politics outside the guilds.”

We set watches like good little party members but I was happy that my elven heritage allowed me to enter a trance state in which I was aware rather than truly sleeping. Altek and Celton slept like babies but then I doubt they even remotely suspected that Zenis was an Assassin. I knew Altek didn’t at least or they might have tried to kill each other already… unless I was wrong. Or I was right and Zenis had magical items that could fool a paladin’s ability to detect evil. Or Altek was a total fool and hadn’t bothered to give all of us a once over with the morality scanner. So I was paranoid and ‘slept’ with one eye open.

We continued on at night after we got our eight hours, eating iron rations as we rode and over the course of the next few days we fell into a routine. We rode, striking a good balance between keeping the horses healthy and maintaining our speed, we avoided the waystations and moved at night, interrupted only by the occasional caravan and highway patrol. When I finally couldn’t stand the stench any longer, I went and found a fresh water stream and ordered the boys to bathe before we continued and further. I was quite happy to keep watch and risk death at a discreet distance to preserve their modesty as long as the unbearable smell was somewhat abated. I even forced us to stop at the next waystation we came across to purchase a small barrel as a temporary home for Vanad and his detestable odor. So it was that we arrived at the fortified city of Vanifar in a somewhat presentable fashion without the worry of having to explain why we were carrying a four day old corpse to the guards at the gate. If there was a bright side to the whole ordeal, it would be that we were all too tired to snark at each other or think about Vanad’s death and the danger we were in. Even Zenis was subdued, unable to work up the energy for so much as the smallest of chauvinistic comments.

I remembered more impressive cities thanks to Ressia’s memories but the sight of thirty foot high stone walls was imposing to say the least. Vanifar performs several functions for the Kingdom of Anarhod, the first and foremost being the defence of the realm against the northern wilds. The second is as a trade hub between human farmers and dwarven smiths.

The dwarves and humans had formed an uneasy alliance long ago when the kingdoms of man were founded. Dwarves pride themselves on their abilities as miners and smiths without peer as well as their self sufficiency. Unfortunately, living most of their lives underground, food production is not one of their talents. While they are able to grow edible fungi and herd underground animals for some meat, the state of semi-constant siege that the dwarves find themselves under against the Drow produces great demand for food, necessitating trade with the surface to sustain their way of life. Conversely, kings all over the world rely on solid dwarven steel to arm against the evils that infest the world and retain their grip on civilization, a symbiotic relationship that has kept the peace for centuries. Thus, Vanifar was one of the most important cities in the realm, with fortifications designed and engineered by dwarven siege experts, some of whom were on loan to the Duke as advisors.

The last function Vanifar serves, and the function we were most interested in, is as a safe haven for adventurers intent of pillaging the wilds. The deal between adventurers and the Kingdom is simple. Adventurers keep themselves out of the Kingdom’s hair and in return, we get to keep any loot that we come across no questions asked. This created a profession composed of what amounted to highly trained mercenary special forces who traded life expectancy for potential riches. Riches, of course, have to be spent and adventurers need a place to rest and recuperate between missions. Vanifar, being the last city many adventurers would likely ever see, catered for such stalwart heroes. On the flip side, however, you really can’t call anywhere ‘pro-adventurer’. It’s not that adventurers don’t often earn the ire of the citizenry but they also provoke envy and spite.

Consider a regular citizen’s point of view. An adventurer waltzed into town with a sack full of gold, festooned with magical items that could be traded for enough food for a whole family for years. While they’re busting their humps for a copper piece a day (one hundred copper pieces being worth a single gold piece) and eeking out a living, adventurers live like royalty, seducing their sons and daughters both into their beds and out of the family business for the prospect of living fast and dying young. They don’t get to face the eldritch evils that plague the world or drag their friend’s carcasses around for days so that they can get resurrected after being reduced to a pile of Dire Tiger snacks.

If you’ve ever worked in the movie industry, you know how this phenomenon works. Whenever a camera crew waltzes into a town back on Earth, the price of everything mysteriously jumps upward within a twenty mile radius. Similarly, adventurers are forced to deal with the ‘adventurer’s tax’ that combines an increase in prices with the need to bribe every official you encounter just so that they won’t make needless trouble on the flimsiest of excuses. Unfortunately, Altek didn’t grasp why the guard at the gate was being so difficult as the man’s hints went completely over the paladin’s head.

“Pardon me,” I interrupted when Altek was on the verge of drawing his sword, “I just remembered; I’ve forgotten my donation to the town guard’s retirement fund. Would you gentlemen be so kind as to deposit my twenty gold pieces for me? I’d be ever so grateful.”

We were let through in short order to a chorus of apologies for the misunderstanding and we got our first glimpse of a proper human city in our new world. It’s a curious thing living in a land of magic. For starters, the level of technology is rather random, with steel and glass being available yet hardly used in construction. The densely packed streets were cobbled and the buildings were built of stone and mortar with slate rooves with practical dwarven influences painfully evident in even the smallest of architectural features. The genius of elven architecture is that it looks elegant and lasts forever. The dwarves had yet to master the first part. It was surprisingly clean, however, a testament to the effectiveness of the city’s public works.

Despite the somewhat austere nature of the city, it still held sights and wonders to behold. Divided into segments by high walls with cross streets that radiated from major landmarks, the city could be locked down in segments enabling the guard to fall back to better defensive positions with ease while forcing an enemy to fight for the city inch by inch while providing ease of navigation. Each enclosed district had its own park, square or market around which businesses of various types could flourish, with each district specializing in a certain industry, profession or in some cases race. I found the Halfling and Gnome quarter’s tiny homes to be quite cute and intriguing as we passed by.

Altek, however, was fuming as we rode through the streets and wasn’t in the mood for sight seeing. “I never thought I’d see the day when I’d be bribing a police officer just to get through a gate,” he growled, existentially enraged.

“You payed highway tolls back home didn’t you?” I quipped.

“That’s not the same,” he protested, “tolls are lawfully sanctioned and go into a treasury, or to the private company that built the road to pay them back for their initial investment. What they just did was extortion.”

“If you hadn’t made such a fuss, I could have gotten away with ten,” I countered, “on the bright side; we probably just paid off the city guard’s bar tab.”

“I’m not lugging around my friend’s corpse just so we can earn enough money to pay for anyone’s drunken revels,” he said through clenched teeth. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to calm down. “Forget it. We turn right at the next street and follow it straight to the Temple of Anar. If I put in a good word they won’t gouge us for the resurrection.”

The Temple of Anar the Sun God had pride of place in the temple district as the patron god of Anarhod. It was less of a building and more a cathedral with towers that loomed high over the city walled and rivalled the height of the Duke’s castle that lay at the centre of the city like a spider at the centre of its web. The temple was covered with depictions of Anar wrestling with the dark, inhuman, form of Nesti, God of Death and Disaster along with various demon lords and other alien beings that shrank from his light as they prostrated themselves at his feet. The most amazing feature, however, were the giant double doors of solid gold that stood open to allow admission with militant clerics standing guard in a constant silent vigil.

Celton made his apologies and broke away from the rest of the group when he spotted the Temple of Phastroma, Goddess of Beauty and Art as well as being Celton’s patron goddess. I was kicking myself when I finally recognized the design of his holy symbol, wondering if I’d just had a complete brain fart or if I’d just experienced my first natural one on the twenty sided dice of fate. Her temple was much smaller but more elegant, surrounded by lush gardens and decorated with the most exquisite sculpture.

I was surprised to discover that Ressia didn’t acknowledge Phastroma as her patron goddess, nor did she acknowledge any one god or goddess as her patron. Unusual for adventurers for the same reason that there aren’t any atheists in foxholes; though it’s hard being an atheist in the DnD multiverse when clerics can demonstrate the power of their deities by healing the wounded and crippled, curing sickness with a mere touch and creating food and water out of thin air. Not that Ressia was an atheist, she prayed often to a variety of gods and goddesses in different situations, such as the traditional prayers that actors make to Pharistoma before the curtain goes up. I just didn’t have a single god or goddess that I could point to and say ‘yes, I have faith in them’.

We were so caught up in the journey that we didn’t notice that Zenis had disappeared until we dismounted on the steps of the Temple of Anar and had to hitch up the horses. “Don’t worry,” Altek advised when I voiced my concern, grunting as he hauled the barrel with Vanad’s remains off his horse, “he’s a big boy and you’re not his mother.” I didn’t tell him that I wasn’t so much worried about Zenis as what the elf was doing while we weren’t looking over his shoulder.

As we ascended the long flight of steps that led inside, I couldn’t help but wonder if Anar had a confidence problem. Take the temple’s entrance, a fifteen foot wide, twenty five foot high set of double doors that weren’t even half as tall as the entire building. The sanctuary inside was festooned with gold, from sculptures to gold leaf holy symbols. The altar was a complex series of sun-disks cast from solid gold, each at an angle to spread the light that streamed down from the skylight high above evenly throughout the room.

We were stopped by a votary with a book and a box with the word ‘alms’ embossed in the rich wood with gold lettering. “Welcome to the temple, most holy knight,” he greeted, bowing in respect, “may I inquire as to the purpose of your visit.”

“Foremost I require prayer in a consecrated place, brother,” Altek replied, obviously relieved to be in his element again, “however I regret that I must prevail upon the high priest to return my companion who fell in noble battle back to life.”

The votary lapped up the paladin’s formality like a cat laps up milk. “Of course, sir, if you would follow me I shall deliver you to him post haste.”

The opulence of the temple didn’t stop at the altar room. The corridors were lined with rugs of the finest make, some hailing from far away lands that would have cost a veritable fortune. The floors were clad in thick red carpet, soft enough that I was tempted to take off my boots to scrunch my toes in it. Finally we came to a heavy hardwood door bound in iron at which the votary knocked politely before entering, bidding us to wait a moment while he announced our presence.

We waited for half an hour before we were called inside, long enough to let us know that we weren’t that important but short enough to show a measure of respect to Altek’s paladinhood. The High Priest wasn’t the ultimate leader of the Church of Anar but I was loathe to consider what the chamber of the supreme authority would look like. His office moved beyond lavish into the realm of decadence, all he required to tip the balance was a hookah and a bevy of courtesans. It occurred to me that they might be kept in his bedroom. The High Priest himself wore a robe of white silk embroidered with a pattern that repeated his god’s holy symbol rendered in gold thread. He wasn’t as handsome as Altek but he made up for the lack with confidence that lesser men didn’t possess.

“Altek,” the High Priest greeted warmly, clasping the paladin’s hand in a firm shake and patting him on the shoulder, “it’s been too long, brother.”

“Indeed, High Priest Brevor,” Altek agreed, returning the shake. “Allow me to introduce Lady Ressia, a bard of some repute.”

“I am delighted to make the acquaintance of such a rare and exotic beauty,” Brevor said, lifting my hand to his lips for a brief kiss, “am I to understand that you are good Sir Altek’s betrothed?”

Altek spluttered a bit but I kept my cool and returned his smile, though mine held a bit less mirth and a lot more impending danger. “Don’t make me hurt you, High Priest, it’s a waste of useful magic.”

He laughed, slapping Altek on the shoulder rather hard. “Yes, she’s a keeper all right Altek. Now, I understand that you need a companion of yours resurrected. You do understand that such a service can’t be provided for free, Anar frowns upon it.”

“How much?” Altek asked, suppressing a wince.

#

“Thirty thousand gold pieces.”

Celton spat his ale back into his tankard.

We were sitting in a tavern called The Smiling Goddess in the temple district, a nice establishment with a strangely pious atmosphere that was remarkably clean and quiet for such a venue. Clerics love a good tipple as much as the next person, I can tell you, but they’re not the most boisterous crowd (with some exceptions) even when they’re in their cups.

“So then we went looking for a Resurrection scroll,” Altek continued, muttering darkly into his cup. “Guess how much they are around here.”

“Thirty thousand?” Celton guessed.

“Thirty one thousand,” Altek corrected, “they tack on double the cost of materials. And the prices on healing spells are fixed, everyone charges the same.”

Our cleric muttered some very impious oaths. “I can cover twenty thousand with the spell components for Raise Dead and Lesser Restoration,” he offered, the components for said spells being diamonds and diamond dust respectively.

“No,” I disagreed, “we need those spells in reserve. If the Dire Tiger hadn’t made a mess of things we wouldn’t be bothering with this. We need a third option.”

“You have an idea?” Altek asked hopefully.

I nodded. “Vanad might not like it but it’s the most practical option and it has to be done soon before the time limit expires. Reincarnation is a lower level spell and should be much cheaper.”

“But we can’t approach any druids for fear they’ll rat us out to the Circle,” Altek pointed out.

“That doesn’t mean there aren’t scrolls floating about,” I countered. “It’s not a bard spell but I can cast it from a scroll given about an hour. Only problem is, we’re running the risk of him coming back as something without hands.”

“How likely is that?” Celton inquired.

I shrugged. “Flip a coin and take your chances. Honestly, I don’t think we have any other options. He’s been dead four days, nearly five, and the window for Reincarnation only lasts a week.”

Of course, Zenis chose that moment to suddenly appear, throwing a heavy scroll onto the table before sliding into his seat. Looking smug, he leaned back and put his hands behind his head before propping his feet up on a spare chair. “There’s your Resurrection scroll,” he declared pompously, “do try not to fuck up casting it.”

There was a long pause as we stared at the thief until Celton snatched up the scroll to have a look at it. Blinking several times, he gulped. “Uh, it’s a Resurrection scroll all right. Where the heck did you get one of these?”

Altek glared at the rogue. “I will not be party to thievery.”

“Woah, woah, woah there, big man,” Zenis said, attempting to placate the paladin’s righteous wrath, “you’ve got entirely the wrong end of the stick. I went to see a guy who knows a guy, savvy, and happened to mention our little predicament with our poor departed friend. As an upstanding citizen, he introduced me to a philanthropist who just happened to have a spare Resurrection scroll he was willing to donate to a just cause.”

“Mind if I take a closer look at it Celton?” I asked, holding out my hand. “I’d like to examine it thoroughly to see if it’s cursed.

He handed it over, shrugging. “You’ll have to cast it anyway; I can’t use scrolls of that level.”

To explain, in the game there’s a skill called ‘use magic device’ that lets people with it use scrolls and other magical items without being wizards or clerics. The major advantage being that if you have a high enough skill level, you can use magical items that even wizards or clerics can’t. In the reality of the DnD world, Ressia was well versed in the construction of magical items to the point where she could divine the nature of such items and how to activate them as well as decipher magical script thanks to her elven upbringing. It can seem a little weird that bards and rogues are best at this ability compared to wizards and clerics, the difference being that bards and rogues cheat to get their magical power where wizards and clerics come by it though honest study and discipline.

I concentrated on studying the scroll while the other three bickered, Altek and Celton highly suspicious of the sudden fortuitous appearance of exactly what we needed for free. Both of the religious types seemed certain that Zenis had stolen it but, unless the rogue had an ungodly ability to bluff or I was out of my skull, as incredulous as it seems, his words rang true. Of course, if Zenis wasn’t playing us then whoever had given him the scroll was playing us, which was why I asked to examine the scroll more closely.

My suspicions were all but confirmed the moment I touched the scroll. I wasn’t surprised that neither Zenis nor Celton had either noticed or remarked on it since magical scrolls can come on a remarkable variety of exotic hides. There is, however, no mistaking the texture of treated human skin once you know what to look for. One of the little foibles of the alignment system is that it tends to colour the magic you use. Evil people make evil magical items with evil ingredients, the biggest difference being that such spellcasters can generate power through the pain and degradation of others, defraying both the monetary and personal costs of creating magical items. After all, why waste perfectly good diamonds on resurrection scrolls when the heart of an angel or the powdered wings of tortured pixies would do just as well?

After examining the scroll carefully with the aid of an aura sight spell, I rolled it back up and placed it on the table. I wasn’t expecting the other three to be watching me so intently when my attention returned to reality and, startled, I took a deep breath to collect my wits. “It’s a resurrection scroll all right,” I informed them, deciding to omit certain facts for the greater good, “there’s a minor curse on it, though, which is probably why the original owner didn’t mind parting with it.”

“How minor are we talking here?” Altek inquired.

“It’s the old ‘grow an inch of hair per hour’ deal on the user,” I explained, “annoying but I’d rather have Vanad back.” No I wasn’t about to tell the paladin that the scroll was evil. If I had, he wouldn’t have let me use it and being all noble and pure wasn’t going to bring Vanad back. “Besides,” I continued, “that curse usually only activates once on spell completion items. I think this one will last a bit longer than that but it won’t last forever. Even if it does, Remove Curse is a lot easier to cast than Resurrection.”

Altek frowned and for a moment I thought he might object to using the scroll anyway. After a few moments, however, he looked me in the eyes and nodded. “Do it.”

It wasn’t as easy as that, of course. First I spent most of the night deciphering the scroll in my room, going over it several times and triple checking everything just to be thorough, though I admit I overdid it a bit. It was my first time, after all, even if Ressia was confident James still had nagging doubts. The worst part was when Altek opened the barrel in my room, even though we opened the windows first. Celton had to purify the whole room just so we could breathe and I had to wait for the tears and gagging to stop so I could cast the spell without mishap. Then, after all that, I had to muster the courage to touch the body. Call it girly if you like but the idea of touching dead things makes my skin crawl, I even leave looting corpses to less squeamish adventurers. Fortunately I discovered that the spell only requires a light tap with the tip of my finger, so I was spared too many of the grizzly details.

Watching a pile of body parts metamorphose into a healthy, living, human being is a sight you won’t soon forget but wish you could. Everything kind of liquefies and blobs together in a disgusting, opaque, fleshy, sack that starts growing eyeballs and hair everywhere before the bones solidify and appendages push their way out of the mass; even worse when the end result is a naked emaciated wizard in desperate need of a woman to take care of him. Not that I was about to volunteer for the job with both my personalities recoiling in horror at the idea for completely different reasons.

Both of them managed to shut up, however, when Vanad woke up and started screaming. It’s another little detail that the game glosses over so none of us ever even considered what it’d be like to wake up alive after being torn up and eaten by a tiger the size of a bus. Unfortunately we were idiots and Vanad suffered the full mnemonic backlash because of our carelessness.

Watching Vanad utterly break down into a gibbering mess broke down a wall inside me that I hadn’t realized existed. Another of those strange urges propelled me forward and the next thing I knew, I found myself cradling him in my arms as he cried into my shoulder, whispering comforting platitudes into his ear. After a few moments, I noticed the boys fidgeting uncomfortably around us and, for a reason I didn’t quite fathom at the time, their inactivity irritated me.

“Celton,” I snapped, surprised at how natural it felt to be ordering them about, “don’t gawk, boy, get a blanket for him. Altek, wipe the blood off his things. Zenis… just turn around and wipe that smirk off your face or we’ll see how you faire coming back after being skinned alive.”

I must have been quite scary at the time because all three of them went pale and did exactly what I asked without question. I can’t help but smile wryly when I look back on that moment but at the time their awkwardness and insensitivity was just so damn frustrating it made me want to gouge their eyes out.

Vanad wasn’t ever the same. I comforted him until he calmed with Celton’s help, wrapping the wizard in a warm blanket to preserve his modesty (not that he had much to be modest about; I’d think about that, players, the next time you make charisma a dump stat). The innkeeper came up to see what all the noise was and we had to buy him off with even more gold not to kick us out onto the street, much to Altek’s disgust, then had to rent another room for the distressed wizard on top of that.

I used a sleep spell to force him to rest and we tucked him into bed. Altek and Celton vowed to take turns watching over him during the night. Zenis offered to watch over me all night so I bruised his shin. Just to be safe, I cast a simple Alarm spell on my door and window before flopping onto my bed, still fully dressed. I don’t remember actually hitting the pillow.

Looking back, if I’d known what was going to happen next, I would have jumped out the window and run for the relative safety of the wilds, never to return. After all, when I woke up the next morning, I was going to have one of the greatest trials of my entire life, worse than a flight of dragons ridden by an army of devils; worse than fending off the romantic attentions of a lich; worse even than being forced to watch both Dungeons and Dragons movies back to back.

Yes, my dear audience, in the morning I was finally going to bathe.

May the deities have mercy.

Tetsu, an itinerant con artist, can't believe his luck when a chance encounter lands him with more wealth than he knows what to do with. Little does he know that his luck will draw him into a diabolical plot to unweave the Loom of Fate!

This story takes place in the world of Exalted as presented in the roleplaying game of the same name by White Wolf. Prior knowledge of this universe is not required.

Fate and the Iron Tiger PART I
An Exalted Tale by Dr. Bender

Prologue

In the beginning there was Not Time. In this space without space, infinite and infinitesimal, the Shinma were birthed by the existence of existence itself. This is certainly confusing but none the less true. The Shinma were merely concepts or perhaps the personifications of concepts but it was their will which defined the shape of reality and the formation of the primal chaos known as the Wyld.

From the Wyld came the Primordials, the haughty and jealous beings that sculpted Creation to provide themselves with a safe haven in the tempest. So that they could retire to their games, they created the Gods to watch over Creation and guard their backs from their eternal enemies, the Raksha. Other, lesser, beings were created to serve the Gods in turn and even smaller beings to serve the servants but the Gods did not take well to slavery.

After untold years, the foremost of the Gods hatched a plan to usurp creation from their masters. Unable to go against the Primordials directly, the strongest empowered mortals with a small portion of their divine essence making each an army unto themselves. The Elemental Dragons empowered the Dragonblooded, the weakest but most numerous of the Exalted; the Five Maidens of Fate empowered the Sidereals with the ability to sway destiny itself to their cause; Luna imparted her mercurial essence to a chosen few and the Unconquered Sun, greatest of all, created the Solar Exalted to rule over all the rest.

Their rebellion was costly but ultimately successful. After maiming and imprisoning those former masters that they did not kill outright, the Gods left Creation in the hands of their chosen and took up the Games of Divinity in the Primordials’ stead. The Solar Exalted forged what future generations know as the First Age, a time of peace, prosperity and decadence.

No-one ever expected that the seeds of the Solar’s downfall had been planted with the dying breath of the Primordials. Unknown to all, as the slain creators descended into the Underworld they placed upon their murderers a great curse. Forever more would the Exalted be men and women of great deeds and great flaws, sinking ever deeper into their own insanity.

Fearing for the future of Creation and driven by their own curse, the Sidereal Exalted conspired with the Dragonblooded to overthrow the increasingly erratic Solars. This rebellion, the Usurpation, was also ultimately successful and the Sidereals entrapped the Solar Exaltations in a cage deep beneath the western oceans, never to be unleashed again onto the world. The Lunars, bereft of their Solar partners, fled to the edge of Creation and into the Wyld, harried by armies uncounted. Thus ended the First Age.

The Dragonblooded were numerous but ultimately weaker than the Solars, unable to match the peerless skill of their former masters. First Age technology withered and died, reducing mortals to a more medieval existence as jealous enemies caught the scent of blood. While disease was rife throughout the era of the Shogunate, their effects paled against the plague future generations would come to know as The Great Contagion. Once the disease had run its course, the Sidereals, Gods and Dragonblooded estimated that a mere ten percent of all life in Creation had managed to survive.

It was at Creation’s weakest moment that the Raksha struck from the Wyld. The death toll of the Balorian Crusade was miniscule compared to that caused by The Great Contagion but it was a serious blow none the less. The Wyld re-claimed vast tracts of shaped reality, shrinking Creation by no less than half its size. Just when all seemed lost, a single Dragonblood managed to penetrate the Imperial Manse, a First Age weapon of unimaginable power, and used it to drive the Raksha back.

This exceptional Dragonblood claimed rulership of what remained of the Shogunate and, with the backing of the Sidereals, re-forged the remains of civilization into the nation known as The Realm. She called herself The Scarlet Empress and her rule has stood firm against all challenges for more than seven hundred years.

Today, the Immaculate Order teaches that the Solar and Lunar Exalted are demons that possess men and women of great strength but weak character. As the puppet religion of the Realm and the Sidereals, the Order harried the Lunars back into the Wyld at every opportunity and kept order amongst the Little Gods. It also spreads the worship of the Dragonblooded as the chosen rulers of Creation, beings with the divine right to rule in the God’s stead. Even though the relics of the First Age endure, most mortals spit upon those who once freed them from slavery to the Primordials, calling them Anathema. As generations passed, there was no-one left who remembered the glories that were lost and the memories of the Solars who had come before were trapped with their Exaltations, unable to prove their detractors wrong.

That is, until their cage was broken…

- Excerpt from the Journals of Lytek, God of Exaltation.

Chapter 1

Try to imagine Creation as a bubble. This is not strictly speaking true but does well enough for our purposes. Inside this bubble is a vast land, the boundaries of which are defined by the four elemental poles. In the frozen north lies the Elemental Pole of Air; beyond the western oceans lies the Elemental Pole of Water; past the deserts of the south you would discover the Elemental Pole of Fire and amidst the giant forests of the east is the Elemental Pole of Wood. Binding these four poles together is the Elemental Pole of Earth which stands at the centre of Creation on the Blessed Isle.

Only the Gods and the fallen Primordials know how deep the earth and oceans go or how high above mortal heads the sky rises. Despite this, the Unconquered Sun still manages to rise and fall during the day while Luna shows her face alongside the constellations of the Maidens of Fate in the night sky but the all other stars shine for mortals great and small. Every one of these stars represents the destiny of a mortal, some shining brighter than others but each all too easily snuffed out.

Under the stars of the east, Cathak Markul was afraid that the time for the end of his star had come, though he wouldn’t have couched the metaphor in the same way. Markul felt the heat of a burning fortress at his back as he crawled through the mud, the sound of the battle behind him reverberating through his bones. The tall stone towers of Andual Redoubt had been many things to the young Dragonblood but what pained his heart the most was the loss of the place he called home.

He turned to look over his shoulder as it seemed that the stern grey walls roared in agony even as the earth itself shook underneath him from the forces that had been unleashed. Pillars of flame roared from windows high above as the spires beyond the fifty foot high wall between Markul and the battle beyond were illuminated by flashes of raw power.

Paradoxically, the countryside around the fortress was deathly still. Tall mountains rose sharply on either side of the fortress which had been built to straddle the river that flowed through the valley from the north. Illuminated starkly by Luna’s waxing light, the forest beyond the clearing that ringed the fort cast deep shadows under the canopy. Recent rains and run-off had reduced the grassy, leaf-strewn, dirt into muddy slush that Markul cursed silently with every movement as he dragged himself along, desperate to get out of the clearing that surrounded the fort and into the cover of the trees.

Mindful that the enemy could be lurking in any shadow, Markul’s eyes constantly darted left and right, searching for the slightest flicker of movement but found none. He forced himself to squash a faint hope that the foolish Immaculates had neglected to post sentries to catch anyone attempting to escape as he was, reminding himself to assume the worst. Beyond the short, rocky, slope that led up to his destination, he imagined an army waiting for him in the darkness and gripped the hilt of his enormous green jade alloy Daiklave tighter than he had before, forcing renewed strength back into his limbs through sheer will. He ignored the burning in his every muscle along with a myriad of cuts, scrapes and bruises as he climbed the green lamellar armour of his ancestor clattering painfully loud to his ears against the bare rock.

A blinding flash caused him to look back again as he reached the treeline just in time to catch the sight of the main tower toppling over as if it had been bumped by a giant’s elbow, seeming to fall ever so slowly just as a second tower was sheered in half by a blade of brilliant energy. The deafening noise of the collapse was like the roar of a Behemoth, spewing great clouds of mud and dust into the air. Markul didn’t waste time gawking, he scrambled to his feet and ran, forSakeng caution for speed in his desire to get as far away from the horror of that battle as possible. Seconds later, he felt small chunks of gravel clatter against his helmet as they rained from the sky, sounding much like a hailstorm as the debris found the earth once more.

The trees flashed by as he sprinted past, dodging trunks and shafts of moonlight in his haste, his miscellaneous complaints forgotten with the rush of adrenaline as he enhanced his body with a carefully controlled flush of Essence, power granted to him by his birthright. Despite his speed, he maintained his vigilance, keeping one eye out for enemies at all times while the other plotted his course. He didn’t slow until the sound of battle faded into the distance and all was silent except for the usual sounds of the wood.

Checking his surroundings, having patrolled this area many times before, he made sure of his bearings and continued on to the rock he knew to mark the grave of an ancient ruin whose foundations had long been buried under roots and soil. Once there, he came upon, as promised, a dark brown horse with a white patch over its right shoulder tied to a tree, thankfully safe. Ambushing Immaculate monks weren’t the only threat the forest could hold and Markul spared a prayer of thanks to the Unconquered Sun for such good fortune before mounting the steed and ordering it into a dead run.

Only then, with the reins in his hands and the wind in his hair, did Markul allow himself to relax his guard slightly. This wasn’t necessarily his undoing; perhaps even if he had been rested and alert he would never have seen the attack that pierced his heart.

That night, however, one of the sky’s brightest stars faded and died as Cathak Markul slumped in his saddle.

#

Creation isn’t the only solid bubble floating in the Wyld. Connected to Creation via many gates is Yu Shan, City of the Gods. Though the greatest city of all is dominated by the Jade Pleasure Dome in which Incarnae such as the Unconquered Sun busy themselves with the Games of Divinity, the city also houses the much more humble and practical offices of the Celestial Bureaucracy, though even the most humble hovel in Yu Shan would be counted a palatial mansion anywhere else. The most important of these offices, perhaps the most important building in all Creation, is the Lotus Dome. This simple, immense, dome is most important for its sole purpose: housing the Loom of Fate.

While the exterior of the Lotus Dome is an unassuming white, the interior is a dark, shadowy, place. Tall pillars support spiral staircases and walkways that interweave through the silvery luminescent threads of the Loom to provide access for the Keepers of Fate, otherwise known as the Sidereal Exalted, the members of the Bureau of Destiny. Every thread in the Loom is a mortal destiny, it is said that even the stars in the sky are merely reflections of these threads. Together, the threads form the Tapestry of Creation; the past, present and future all intertwined in the endless dance of life.

Dexterously scuttling though the threads were the Pattern Spiders, eight-legged spirit constructs created for the sole purpose of tending to the Loom. Despite the best efforts of the Gods, the Tapestry is constantly being woven and re-woven by the actions of mortals and immortals. The threads can become tangled and snarled, creating errors in the flow of casualty. A man standing on a roof may watch himself fall to his own death before the Pattern Spiders are able to fix the snarl, in which case the man may watch his own death fade from existence or fade from existence himself. Fortunately, such events are rare unless the use of Essence is involved.

All of this was known to the two young Sidereals that occupied one of the lower balconies that looked out onto a tiny section of the Tapestry, though just this small piece dwarfed them the way humanity towers over ants. Shining Feather, Chosen of Serenity, swept the long blue silk sleeve of his robe over his shoulder and out of the way of his brush hand. He sat at a small portable desk, facing the loom as he transcribed the Bureau’s work orders from the vernacular framework into more elegant formal calligraphy. By contrast, Focused Rage, Chosen of Battles, paced impatiently with his hands clasped behind his back. Despite the heavy material of his scarlet buff jacket, an armoured longcoat made of tough leather reinforced with metal plates; his movements were so intense that the hem still managed to swish at every sharp turn. Shining Feather ignored him, gently dipping the tip of his brush into his inkwell before returning it to the paper.

“I don’t know why you insist on wasting our time here,” Rage complained in his trademark low, threatening, growl.

Shining Feather shook off his partner’s vitriolic demeanour as a matter of course, replying in calm, soothing, tones. “If you believe that I am wasting your time, feel free to remove yourself from my presence.”

As always, Rage proved just as adept at ignoring his partner’s reasoned arguments as Feather was able to look past his impatience. “I just don’t understand how you can tarry here when there’s important work to be done!”

“As I have told you many times, you’re the kind of man who throws himself passionately into any cause,” Feather answered, “but men like you only ever see the big picture. You are quite willing to let the little details take care of themselves, which only causes more problems in the future.”

“And if we left everything up to you, we’d bury ourselves in the details and never get anything done!” Rage scoffed, though he did manage to stop pacing long enough to stride to the railing and gaze upon the Tapestry as it unfolded around them in every direction. “Seriously, you could send those orders from any corner of Creation. Why do it here? Do you enjoy the thrill of toying with the fates of mortals? Does every brush stroke signify the flash of the executioner’s blade as you consign some insignificant worm to a bitter and pointless end?”

“Are you sure it was Mars who picked you? Or did purple clash too much with your hair?”

Rage self-consciously touched his spiky blonde locks for a moment before getting the joke, which only made him angrier. “Yeah, well, you’d look better dodging questions in green.”

Feather had to sigh at his partner’s lack of creativity. Both of them had referenced the colours of their fellow Sidereals who had been chosen by the Maiden of Endings and the Maiden of Secrets, Purple and Green respectively. “If you must know, I do it here because I like Pattern Spiders.”

“Huh?”

“The Pattern Spiders like my calligraphy. Good calligraphy is, in fact, the only thing, as far as anyone can tell, that they enjoy. We might read the Loom of Fate and direct them towards manipulating desired outcomes but it is the Pattern Spiders who take care of all the details. Up is still up and down is still down thanks to the Pattern Spiders but not a single one has had so much as a coffee break since the beginning of the First Age. If something so simple as my calligraphy can ease their burden for even a moment then I count my time well spent.”

Rage snorted derisively. “Yeah, should have known, you’re just the sort of sap who likes to thank his front door for opening every morning even if all the evidence would indicate that doors don’t have feelings.”

“Then maybe we should track down the God of Doors and ask…” Shining Feather trailed off in mid sentence.

“Ask what?” Rage chuckled. “Oh great and mighty opener and closer of ways, does yonder portal mind if I avail upon it to allow egress or should I use the window instead?”

“Shush,” Feather snapped, cocking his head to one side, “can you hear that?”

“Hear wha…”

Rage paused as he followed his companion’s gaze down to the pot of ink on the table and the shiny black surface of the liquid within. It rippled like a miniature ocean, shuddering with growing intensity as Rage became aware of a low hum that was quickly increasing in volume. Both men covered their ears as the sound grew into an ear-piercing shriek, a sudden gale whipped up their robes and thrust them both into the central pillar with jarring force. Feather’s desk tumbled over the edge, leaving spattered black trail in its wake as it took his calligraphy set with it. The iron railings even began to bend under the pressure, the sound of screeching metal drowned out by the howl of the Loom.

Then it was all over just as fast as it had come and the two Sidereals fell unceremoniously on their faces. Both groaned and squirmed as the ringing in their ears began to subside.

“What in Malfeas’ name was that?” Feather shouted as he struggled to rise.

“What?” Rage shouted back. “I’m still deaf as a doorjamb!”

“And about as smart,” Feather muttered under his breath.

“I said I still can’t hear either,” Rage yelled, oblivious to Feather’s snide remark.

Feather pulled himself to his feet using the pillar for support and shook his head vigorously to try to get the world to stop spinning. When he finally looked up he thought that the sight before him was an illusion, a trick played by his bruised and battered mind. It wasn’t until he heard his companion breathlessly utter a prayer to the Five Maidens that he knew for sure that what he was seeing was real.

The Tapestry beyond their lookout had unravelled like a ball of yarn attacked by kittens. Threads of destiny were tangled and snarled in a single chaotic knot the size of a house, the collective fate of an entire kingdom ruined and unreadable. Pattern Spiders descended on the anomaly like an army of ants and began picking at the edges in their indomitable patience and tenacity but their efforts seemed feeble compared to the overwhelming task before them.

“What, Rage?” Feather asked in breathless awe. “What in all Creation could have done this?”

#

“As far as we can ascertain, Master Kejak,” Mekrem Saladin, Chosen of Secrets, reported as he and his superior walked side by side though the marble halls of the Heptagram, the most prestigious academy of magic in all the Realm, “the catastrophic reverberation occurred when someone with a particularly important Destiny was killed by an extremely powerful essence working. Information on the victim has been sealed by Lady Jupiter and the only thing we know for sure about the attacker was that he or she is outside the purview of Fate.”

Chejop Kejak frowned as he considered the new twist in events. Though old, his staff of office was merely a prop he used to give the impression of authority and, perhaps, frailty to those inclined to underestimate the elderly but he found its impact on the floor vaguely satisfying after the news of this new annoyance. “Have you spoken to Nara-O?”

Nara-O, the God of Secrets Only One Person Knows, was the head of the Division of Secrets. A macabre figure swathed in bandages, the whispering god was a mere step down the hierarchy from the Incarnae, his ability to know any secret kept by a single person ensuring that any plot against his position was doomed to failure.

“Yes, Master. Whoever the perpetrator is, he must have accomplices somewhere. Nara-O knew nothing.”

“I don’t know if I should feel comforted that one person alone couldn’t disrupt our plans to this extent or horrified that a group of beings has access to such power.”

“What worries me the most is that the perpetrator knew exactly who to strike at precisely the worst time. I am loathe to consider the option but we must concede that there might be a traitor in our own ranks.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time, my old friend,” Kejak smiled, vaguely remembering meeting a young Saladin for the first time over two millennia ago. “Fortunately, it’s not our problem.”

“Sifu?” Saladin queried using a more personal honorific, such was his surprise.

“There’s no need for Oversight to be directly involved. Dump this mess onto the Convention of Essence Wielders but keep an eye on the situation. Ura is an idealist but I would never question her competence. Dealing with this will get them out from under our feet for a little while. If it turns out that a Solar was responsible, however, we need to be poised to blow the whole incident open. Or to help if the situation is worse than any of us suspect.”

Saladin nodded in agreement. “It will be done, Master.”

Chapter 2

The fertile East of Creation is divided into many segments by rivers that one must sail across for an entire day before catching sight of the opposite bank. It should be noted that, despite Creation being mostly flat, the God of the Horizon ensures that the view of any single mortal is limited. After all, the Unconquered Sun needs a horizon to rise above and descend beneath, the reason for which is known only to the Gods themselves.

These great rivers branch off from the Yanaze, the great inlet that feeds the mouth of the Inland Sea that surrounds the Blessed Isle. Travelling east along the Yanaze, upstream, one would eventually come to a fork from which the Yanaze branches off into the Yellow and Grey Rivers as well as the great city of Nexus. Following the Yellow River northeast, after more than a month’s travel by foot, you would find that it turned to the east once more past the city of Great Forks. Continuing on another month and a half after passing the Rolling River tributary you could continue on east along the Yellow River past the Maruto River. Yet another two months of constant travel would place you on the Mist Isle at the mouth of the Rock River, a tributary much smaller than the others mentioned previously and yet no less important for the shipments of ore and other raw materials that supply the uncounted petty kingdoms that straddle the banks of this immense river system. This is about as far as most folk would consider travelling as beyond this point, the idea of governance, civilization and even solid form is generally considered optional.

If one were to travel on foot for about a week to the northeast of Mist Island, into the region known to the Realm as the Hundred Kingdoms, you may discover a particular tree. This tree grows on the edge of a small gully half way up a steep, forest-covered, hill. If you were also perceptive enough, you might notice that someone had moved several branches between the gaps in the roots in order to construct a makeshift shelter. If you then peered through the branches you would find an itinerant man wearing a dirty grey peasant’s robe with rough, swarthy, skin and the calloused hands and feet of a wanderer, huddled in the dry patch under the tree as the countryside was lashed by wind and rain.

Tetsu, the wanderer, had no idea that the sudden storm that had driven him into his meagre shelter was not an entirely natural occurrence; unusual, certainly, but not out of the ordinary. Indeed, there was little evidence that something was gravely amiss throughout the entire kingdom. A bird flew backwards through the forest, unobserved, until it was caught in a giant spider’s web and eaten. A door that had been nailed shut and boarded over would have opened into the far city of Chiaroscuro in the South, if anyone could bother to open it. An honest businessman received a shock when he discovered that he had been embezzling millions of Dinars from his employers for years while being unable to remember stealing a single Bit. Fate works in subtle ways to ensure that only a few ever notice something amiss and that those few will never be believed. Thus, being ignorant of what had transpired, Tetsu slept.

Until he was woken by the hoof beats of a runaway warhorse.

Starting awake, only his quick thinking prevented him from crying out as the distinctive sounds of at least one warrior rapidly approached. There was a momentous thud as the beast’s hooves landed hard on the soil overhead, showering Tetsu with dirt before continuing its descent down what was practically a cliff.

Easing himself onto the balls of his feet, Tetsu peered out through the branches that concealed his sleeping place. To his alarm, he immediately saw that the rider had fallen but his foot had stuck in the stirrups, his armoured body bouncing across the ground. He winced as the limp form was finally dislodged from the terrified stallion as it hit a rock with a resounding crack that echoed through the valley even as the horse continued to bolt downhill. Luck, however, wasn’t with the animal as it tripped at the base of the gorge and fell head first into the unyielding dirt.

For a full ten minutes, Tetsu remained perfectly still as he stared at the scene, waiting for the rider’s friends to come and retrieve the body. However, nobody came and there was no sound except the patter of rain drops and the occasional agonized whinny of the horse.

It wasn’t long before greed overcame Tetsu’s caution as he decided to forsake his hiding place and creep over to the rider’s body and check to see if it had anything valuable. Years of wandering the wilderness had taught him at least the basics of how to tread silently and the rain just made it that much easier. Creeping through the wet grass, remaining crouched for the most part, Tetsu had to wince at the sight that greeted him.

The body looked boneless; every limb splayed out at the wrong angle like the man had been wrung out between the hands of a giant then casually discarded without thought. It was also equally obvious that the fall hadn’t killed him. The swordsman wore green lamellar armour with a matching green jade Daiklave strapped to his back but his chest plate looked as if something had exploded beneath it, hollowing out the man’s chest. Tetsu almost jumped out of his skin when the piece of meat on the ground that hardly looked human coughed, spattering blood onto the grass.

“Help me,” it rasped, twitching slightly.

Tetsu checked to make sure the sun was actually up and he hadn’t been suddenly sucked into the Wyld or some insane shadowland while he’d been sleeping. Kneeling carefully next to the body, he looked over the man’s wounds again and winced. “I’m sorry but… you shouldn’t even be alive.”

“Sustaining myself… with Essence,” the soldier gasped, pausing between words for fits of agony, “but it… won’t… last.”

“Can I do anything for you?”

He tried to shake his head but only twitched. “No… thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Tetsu sighed, “once you’re dead I’ll probably strip your body and sell it all to pay for my next meal. So don’t thank me.”

“Honourless bandit!” The Dragonblood spat through clenched teeth.

Tetsu scowled. “Yeah, yeah. And you’ve never extorted money from a vassal, raped a woman in war or stabbed an enemy in the back, I’m sure.”

It was hard to tell if the soldier winced in pain from his injuries or Tetsu’s words. “Then what are you?” The soldier asked. “Just a wanderer? Or a hungry ghost sent to haunt my dying breaths?”

“For a while there, I thought you were the hungry ghost,” Tetsu snorted. “It seems that I’m the guy who’s going to make your last moments in this incarnation as comfortable as possible before I bury you and put your name over the grave. If you don’t want your epitaph to read ‘I died a bloody fool’ you might want to be polite.”

“You’re right,” the soldier sighed, “I know I’m dying, no help for it. The least I can do is bequeath to you everything I’m carrying for a good burial. After all, I have no heir.”

“What name do you want on your marker?”

“Cathak Markul, Exiled Dragon Lord of Wood. That is all; I have no right to brag over my… achievements.”

Tetsu looked down at the mass of blackened meat that used to be Markul’s chest. “Do you know who killed you?”

“No,” Markul said simply. The Dragonblood stared up at the sky for a moment, lost in his own thoughts. “Do you believe in evil?”

“Evil is defined by action,” Tetsu shrugged, “we are what we do. A Dragon Lord killed my family.”

“I’m sorry,” Markul sighed, “what’s your name?”

“Tetsu.”

“I’m sorry, Tetsu. A few years ago, I might have done that and more. I certainly did worse.”

“Why were you exiled?”

It must have hurt but Markul smiled. “I couldn’t kill a child. I refused to destroy one of the Anathema. She’s safe now.”

Tetsu didn’t want to explain himself but Markul had answered his question, so he felt obligated. Hard to refuse a dying man anything, even a Dragon Lord. “My father was a smith. We lived in the northwest, close to the sea. When I was fourteen, a lord bought an estate on the hill above us for his summer house. Our homes were spoiling his view, so he ordered us out. My father was a respected artisan, so my parents went to beg the lord to reconsider. He sent their heads back in a basket. I ran away before...”

Feeling something on his leg, Tetsu looked down to discover Markul’s hand gripping his thigh.

“When I was growing up,” Markul gasped, tears streaming down his cheeks from pain and sorrow, “I never thought of my clan as evil, no matter what we did we were justified as the defenders of Creation. I was wrong, forgive me… please…”

“You didn’t kill…”

Tetsu paused as the last breath of life left the soldier’s body and he wilted into death, eyes wide open.

“…them. But I forgive you.”

He reached up and closed Markul’s eyes.

Wasting no more time, Tetsu said a short, inept, prayer for the man’s soul before searching his belt pouches for valuables. Hefting Markul’s coin purse, Tetsu had to whistle appreciatively as he estimated that he was now the proud owner of fourty-seven silver Dinars, a small fortune by the standards of anyone but a Dragonblood. Quickly thrusting the pouch into the inner pocket of his robe, he turned to pry the Daiklave, a sword that was taller and almost as wide as he was, out from under the body. It came out with surprising ease since whatever had gouged Markul’s chest out had also torn the strap that held the sheath in place. The last thing to come off the rider were his boots which were slightly too small for Tetsu but better than going barefoot on the wet, freezing, ground.

Tetsu had a singular strength to his well-muscled and wiry form, a body earned through years of hard labour drifting from town to town. He’d even been known to have swung a mean stick or rod of iron, being at least passing familiar with the art of thuggishly beating someone senseless. The Daiklave, however, was almost as much as he could lift with two hands. Also, the weapon was so tip heavy that swinging the blade in anger was simply unthinkable. Looking down at the relatively scrawny Dragonblood, Tetsu had to shake his head. He accepted the fact that Dragonbloods were just better than normal folk but that didn’t mean he had to like it. He kept the blade sheathed but discarded the useless leather strap, resolving to replace it at the first opportunity.

After satisfying himself that there was nothing left on the rider’s body that was of any value to him, Tetsu dragged the body under the tree where he’d spent the night and buried the exile there in a shallow grave. On the tree above, he carved the epitaph: ‘Cathak Markul, Dragon Lord of Wood, Saviour of Children’.

With his promise completed, Tetsu hefted the Daiklave over his shoulder and proceeded down the hill at a leisurely pace, humming a tune from his childhood. Unlike his master, the horse was mercifully dead, its neck broken.

“Well, aren’t you a sorry sight?” He asked the dead horse rhetorically as he moved to retrieve the saddlebags and redistribute their contents. After several attempts at dislodging the bag that had landed underneath the horse, Tetsu scowled in frustration. “Stupid horse,” he commented, “why’d you have to go and fall on your side? Some of us have to outlast you; you should have been more thoughtful.”

The dead horse wasn’t paying attention, however, so he consoled himself with looting the other saddlebag. The moment his eyes alighted on the box of trail rations, his stomach groaned loudly but he pushed all thoughts of food aside for later so that he could be well away in case anyone did happen by. The bottle of Sake beneath it was even more tempting but Tetsu set it aside to be enjoyed later. The last item caused him to grin, a rich green silk robe embroidered with gold dragons neatly folded inside its own leather bag.

As he slung his new possessions over his shoulder with delight, Tetsu’s good mood died when he discovered that the horse’s open eyes seemed to be staring at him. “What?” He asked the horse, self-consciously adjusting the weight of the Daiklave on his shoulder. “It’s not like your master needs all this anymore. He’s probably a new little baby resting in his mother’s arms right now, sucking on her breast like a prince, so don’t go looking at me like that.”

The horse just continued to stare.

“And I’d do something for you if I could,” Tetsu shrugged, emphasizing the weight of the Daiklave, “but look how big you are! I can’t afford to waste the energy on you. I have to think about my own survival, you know. Speaking of which, your blood will probably start attracting predators soon, so I need to be going.”

Turning his back on the horse, Tetsu stalked away in a huff. After a few steps, he stopped and turned around to see the horse one last time. “But look on the bright side;” he said with a reassuring smile, “they’ll know how to finish you off. They’ve lots of practice.” Then, with a final wave, he turned away and hurried off as fast as he could.

Hiking through the wilderness of the far east was not a task for the unprepared or the incautious, as Tetsu was well aware. Sometimes speed, however, was preferable to stealth so he tried to cut a reasonable compromise as he followed the valley using an abandoned trail halfway up the side of the tall hill in the shadow on the eastern side, continuing his journey north through the rain. Despite his good fortune, which put a spring in his step as he walked, Tetsu couldn’t help but feel a feint twinge of self-disgust but he shoved the feeling aside and kept on walking without so much as a pause. He also crushed the little voice inside his head that was screaming in joy at the modest riches he now possessed. No amount of money was going to help him if he allowed himself to be killed before he had a chance to spend it.

After several hours hike, he decided to climb up the hill and check out the lay of the land. The grey clouds overhead mostly blocked out the sun, allowing only scattered patches of daylight through to the forest below. Something seemed to be burning far to the southeast several valleys over, the gloom between two tall mountains on the horizon suffused with orange light. Ignoring a mystery he’d probably never know the answer to, Tetsu turned back to the northeast where he discovered a far more welcome sight. Rice patties clung to the sides of a hill in the distance, filled with decent folk toiling in the fields while dreaming of a night of gambling before returning home blind drunk to rape their eldest daughter in front of the other sixteen children. Tetsu resolved to save the daughters of the town by depriving the farmers of all their money before they managed to drink themselves into an amorous stupor, pausing only to retrieve a rice ball from his newly acquired provisions to eat as he walked.

The God of Safe Journeys proved to be watching over him as he managed to avoid any major obstacles such as marauding barbarians or opportunistic bandits. Indeed, considering the troubles he’d encountered to the South, this land seemed quite peaceful. To make matters even easier, the forest was rife with game trails, making the hardest part of the hike keeping to the right heading. A day’s travel, however, found Tetsu walking down a white gravel path that parallelled the swiftly moving river that ran between the rice patties and eventually into the town proper.

As Tetsu rounded the last bend in the river, he expected a little hamlet nestled atop a hill with a tall wooden palisade for protection complete with gate guards he’d have to talk his way through before proceeding inside. He didn’t expect a large town with high stone walls that straddled the river complete with docks and a temple high on a mountain beyond that glinted red and gold even in such diffuse light. The town wasn’t opulent by any stretch of the imagination, nor were there any Old Realm marvels to stun visitors with amazement, but the ivy covered walls and clean cobbled streets had the kind of rustic charm that could only be obtained by concerted effort on the part of the inhabitants. Even as he approached what appeared to be an idyllic river village, however, he couldn’t help but feel unsettled.

Strolling through the gates, Tetsu’s vague sense of unease magnified. That there was no guard on watch so close to the boardermarches to challenge a wandering vagrant wearing boots too rich for the rest of his apparel was startling (besides, Tetsu had been looking forward to haggling over the bribe) but the lack of people on the streets at sundown was the most disturbing. It also didn’t help that the buildings were all wrong. Further up the slopes were larger houses and estates for the more wealthy alongside a few normal-looking houses but near the river was a warren of tiny, one room, shacks that Tetsu would have called hovels if not for the pristine brickwork and immaculately pruned hedges. He was beginning to think he’d wandered into the domain of a Raksha as he strode toward the centre of town. He paused at the familiar sound of carousing coming from what actually looked like the town’s only real tavern in the central square.

He didn’t get within ten paces before a man in black scholar’s robes was hurled out the door into the street. He rolled several feet before coming to rest in the gutter. Tetsu froze in place as three men stalked out of the bar, all armed. They wore loose-fitting tunics and pants made of the same white cotton with yellow boarders around the neck and hemline. They even wore the same light brown sandals. The man in the lead had a short sword sheathed at his belt while the other two only wore daggers.

The lead thug drew his blade as the scholar prostrated himself at his feet, begging forgiveness. “We told you to stay away from the temple, sa?” The punk addressed his rhetorical question to the scholar in riverspeak. “We told you, you could go into the temple when you had enough money to pay for it, sa?” He then punctuated his point by kicking the scholar in the teeth hard enough to flip the scrawny, middle aged, man over, glasses flying off into the nearby canal.

The scholar came to just in time to see the thug poised over him to deliver the killing blow with the shortsword and began screaming. It was the last sight of his life as the blade came down, sliding between his ribs, piercing his lungs and heart. Blood spurted with the scholar’s last ragged gasps, spattering the pristine white of the thug’s pants. Without mercy, the thug twisted the blade, ending the scholar’s life before spitting on his corpse in disgust. “Bastard son of a whore,” the punk swore as he leant over the dead man to relieve him of his purse, “that’s for my cleaning bill.” To add insult to injury, he kicked the body once before turning back to his laughing friends, bowing like a courtier to thunderous applause. Several dogs slinked out of a nearby alley to sniff at the corpse’s fingers.

Tetsu felt like he’d been caught in the open with his pants down around his ankles standing there, looking for all the world like he was armed to the teeth with a weapon worth a petty king’s ransom. He also realized, as the lead thug glanced in his direction while cleaning his blade, that fast talk alone wasn’t going to get him out of this one. The fires of avarice were kindled in the thug’s eyes as they stared at the Daiklave resting on Tetsu’s shoulder, a weapon no ordinary man could ever hope to wield.

“Soooooo,” the head punk called out as if he were considering what to do while he cleaned his blade. “What do we have here?”

“It’s customary to give your name first,” Tetsu said calmly, deciding to play it cool.

The punk scowled. “I am Bonzo of the White Crane Dojo, disciple of White Crane and Undersheriff of River’s Bend.”

“My name is Tetsu,” he nodded gravely, trying to buy more time to get his story straight in his head. “I’m a wanderer, nothing more.”

One of Bonzo’s subordinates took a step forward and whistled appreciatively as he eyed the Daiklave, incidentally placing himself on Tetsu’s left while the other minion approached from the right. “Nice blade you have there.”

Deciding that surprise was his only possible advantage, Tetsu gave the man on his left a swift kick between his legs before he could move on to the intimidation phase of his extortion racket. As he fell to his knees, clutching at his groin as if trying to figure out how far his genitalia had been shoved into his abdomen, Tetsu wasted no time following the first blow with a knee to the face. There was no time to watch the first casualty fall, however, as the second minion drew his dagger and leapt forward, holding it underhand high over his head with the intent to stab down amateurishly with the momentum of his charge.

Unfortunately for the minion, he was too far away to blindside Tetsu before the wanderer was ready to move. Grasping the hilt of the Daiklave solidly with both hands, Tetsu heaved downward with all his considerable strength. Built for those few enlightened beings such as the Dragon Lords of the Realm, a mortal had no hope of wielding a Daiklave in combat. Tetsu, however, didn’t so much ‘wield’ the Daiklave as catapult the enormously heavy length of jadesteel at his opponent, using the sword as a leaver and his shoulder as a fulcrum. There was a moment frozen in time as Tetsu watched his attacker’s eyes widen in surprise before he ran head first into the flat of the blade. He was slapped down in an instant when the sheer force of the blow crushed him into the cobblestones. The resulting gargling pile of flesh was noticeably thinner under the blade than it had been.

Deciding that there are times when one needs to show lenience and times when one needs to drive their point home, Tetsu let go of the hilt of the Daiklave and stepped up onto the blade. His weight forced more gargled screams out of the body beneath, which subsided much quicker than they might have otherwise. The whole time, Tetsu locked eyes with Bonzo. The petty murderer looked as if he was about to swallow his own tongue in fright. All in all, Tetsu found the experience very satisfying. The next move was up to Bonzo, however, and while Tetsu would have laid a bet that the Undersheriff was a coward, he still had a short sword while the best Tetsu could muster was his old travel knife. Fortunately, Bonzo affirmed Tetsu’s suspicions as he backed away, the point of his short sword trembling between them. Once he’d gotten far enough away, or perhaps gathered enough courage, the Undersheriff turned and ran like the Yozis themselves were on his heels.

Tetsu scratched the back of his head as he wondered exactly how much trouble he’d just bought himself into. Now, he realized, he’d just committed himself to playing the part of a mercenary, a role he didn’t have the skills to fake convincingly. On the other hand, he didn’t have the energy to run far enough to escape the law that might be come after him for the Daiklave that still lay on the ground. Turning his head to peer through the tavern door, he saw several faces for a fleeting moment before they disappeared behind the doorframe as if his gaze alone could have struck them dead.

Amused by the villager’s antics, Tetsu felt a twinge in his back as he stepped down and retrieved the Daiklave. He had a feeling that he was going to regret that first blow in the morning. The man underneath was crushed, bubbles of blood pouring from his mouth. The other punk had a broken nose and was still unconscious, though Tetsu felt no relief that he’d only killed one man. The scholar, of course, was long gone. Looking up at the sky, Tetsu noticed that the sun was slowly setting, and orange tinge creeping up from the horizon. Turning back to the tavern door, he called out. “If I were you, I’d bury this scholar before dark. He may think twice before eating your faces!” Then, shouldering the Daiklave once more, Tetsu strode off and left the villagers to clean up the mess.

Chapter 3

Seeing her in person, Shining Feather found it hard to believe that Ayesha Ura was his elder by more than a millennium. The chocolate-skinned young woman didn’t look like she was out of her twenties, with large eyes, tender lips and curly black hair kept short aside from the corkscrew bangs that hung down the sides of her heart-shaped face. Her body was the product of constant martial arts practice, refined to perfection in all ways. Even the yellow dress she wore, the colour of the Chosen of Journeys, matched her skin perfectly while her jewellery, including the ring in her lower lip, was made of gold.

While lesser men might have allowed themselves to be lulled into a false sense of security dealing with an attractive woman as a superior, Feather worked hard to maintain his focus. He just wished he could say the same for his ever impetuous partner, who was busy fidgeting and scuffing his feet like a schoolboy while obviously trying not to look at her and simultaneously trying not to be disrespectful. It was like watching a leprous whale with aspirations of being a dancer attempt to do a jig without the prerequisite of having legs. Mistress Ura, as leader of the Gold Faction, was as far above them both as the celestial bodies in the sky. Probably further, Feather amended the thought as he glanced outside, since we can see the Jade Pleasure Dome from here.

More surprising than the audience itself was the setting. Mistress Ura’s estate was a large residence as befitted her station in the Celestial Bureaucracy and large parts of the mansion were set aside for formal affairs but being welcome in a superior’s richly appointed living room was another matter altogether. Most Sidereal affairs were conducted in an office with the superior giving orders from across a vast desk to bowing novices. Actually being asked to sit down as if the three of them could talk as equals was almost scandalous.

“Pleased to meet you, Shining Feather,” Mistress Ura greeted with a genuine smile, “your Sifu speaks highly of you.”

Feather bowed his head. “I only hope that I can live up to his example, Mistress.”

“And Focused Rage,” she smiled with what seemed to be genuine affection as she addressed Feather’s partner, “about whom I have heard so much.”

“Y-yes, Mistress,” Rage stuttered slightly, blushing almost red enough to match his buff jacket and looking down to avoid her eyes.

“You’ll have to forgive my partner,” Feather said, not clenching his teeth with effort, “but his skills do not involve the use of his tongue.”

She cocked her head to one side, looking for all the world like an ingenuous girl asking a simple and irrelevant question. “Tell me, Rage, how many martial arts styles have you mastered?”

“Four, Mistress,” Rage answered, relaxing a little, “two terrestrial, one celestial and one sidereal art.”

“So many for one so young,” she complimented. Rage blushed harder but kept quiet as she turned to Feather. “And yourself?”

“I regret that I have only mastered two,” Feather answered.

“Yes,” Mistress Ura said with a knowing smile, showing perfect white teeth, “yet one of those is the Quicksilver Hand of Dreams Style.”

Feather simply bowed his head in acknowledgement.

“So,” she continued, “the two of you are warriors of some note. Tell me how came you to be assigned calligraphy duty?”

Rage almost choked on his own tongue in surprise at the sudden change in the conversation. Feather took a drink of water to buy himself enough time to think of what to say. “We… had an unfortunate exchange of views with a former superior.”

“Master Sheong Wei?”

“Yes. It was thought that the addition of calligraphic duties would teach us the value of patience and experience.”

“I’m told that Master Wei voices his support for Master Kejak’s policies.”

“Master Wei would take a deep breath when Master Kejak breaks wind and praise the scent,” Rage murmured.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mistress Ura threw her head back and laughed before reaching over to pat Rage on the cheek. “You’re cute, dear, but very young. If you want to survive in our world, you need to learn some decorum.”

“I’m a man of action, Mistress,” Rage sighed, “I leave the pretty words to my partner. He leaves bashing skulls together to me. I’m an inelegant blunt instrument but at least I can cut to the heart of the matter.”

“I think you mean ‘hit it on the head’,” Feather commented. “Blunt objects can’t cut anything.”

“Whatever,” Rage shrugged, “we all know what I mean.”

Mistress Ura looked at Feather in askance.

“I think I’m the reincarnation of Desus,” Feather answered the unspoken question, “this is my punishment.”

Rage rolled his eyes while the two politicians shared a chuckle at his expense.

“You’re very right, though, Rage,” she said finally after the levity had passed, “we should get down to business. The destinies of several kingdoms near Greyfalls have been knotted together like a ball of string thrown into the Forest of Cats and the job of straightening everything out has fallen upon the Convention of Essence Wielders. My department, however, is overloaded with the task of tracking the Solar Exalted. We’re also looking for new agents and, since you experienced the effects of the phenomenon first hand, you are in a unique position to understand and track its source. If you could handle this mess for us, I’m sure we could find you both a new position where your talents will be better appreciated. What do you think?”

#

An hour later, Rage watched his friend finish off the last drop of a whole glass of celestial wine and pour himself another as they sat in a private room of The Boisterous Satrap, one of the more popular feasthalls in Yu Shan. The sounds of carousing could be heard faintly though the door as several members of the Court of Seasons arrived to liven up the party. The usually sober and collected Feather finished off the second glass before smashing it against the wall.

“So, my blunt and inexperienced ass tells me that you’re unhappy,” Rage observed dryly.

“Actually, I’m just fortifying myself for the onerous task of explaining to you what just happened since I know for a fact that it went over your head.” Feather said with exaggerated patience.

“Yeah, I have to admit, your enthusiastic acceptance of the mission and all the gushing about how it was such an honour threw me a bit.”

“Ok, let me make things clear. Up until now, we have remained independent of the two major factions in the Bureau of Destiny. We were too young and inexperienced for the elders of the Bronze Faction and not idealistic enough for the Gold Faction, so we continued to languish in obscurity doing menial jobs that none of the self respecting Sidereals want.”

“Sure. So, enlighten me, what’s so bad about moving up in the world? We should be celebrating!”

Feather gritted his teeth. “Perhaps you haven’t noticed but we’re now in the middle of the biggest disaster in the history of the Loom since the Breaking of the Mask! And that was an accident! And we, you and I, will be held directly responsible for the outcome. I don’t know about you but the only solution I can see right now is an enormous natural disaster, like a war or a plague, so we can eliminate enough threads that the Pattern Spiders have something to work with. I’m sure that the Terrestrial Gods of the area won’t mind us decimating their worshippers, not to mention the Celestial Gods who also receive prayers.”

“You really think we could do a war?” The Chosen of Battles asked like a delighted child who’d just been promised a new toy.

“A plague would be quicker and more effective,” Feather sighed, “but I’m not finished. If the idea of mass murder doesn’t faze you, how about the death of someone closer to home: us. We are going to have to make a choice here, you and I, depending on how we handle the situation. If our solution favours the Gold Faction, even by accident, we will be inducted into their ranks and make ourselves choice targets for elimination by the Bronze…”

“Oh, come on,” Rage scoffed, “you know as well as I do that Sidereals don’t kill each other. We may have our disagreements but we’re all brothers and sisters together, for better or worse!”

The glare Feather shot in his direction could have curdled milk. “You seriously can’t be that naive. No Sidereal has ever killed another face to face without ratification from the Elders, no. No, when we want to kill each other, we arrange unfortunate and plausibly deniable accidents. But don’t worry yourself; I’m sure the deaths of the leaders of the Gold Faction right before the Usurpation were just a coincidence and Chejop Kejak didn’t order some of his closest friends utterly destroyed.”

Feather felt slightly guilty looking at his friend’s face as the realization dawned. Rage’s expression made him look like a child lost in Rakshastan holding his dead puppy while being laughed at by a Fair Folk court. Retrieving the bottle of celestial wine, Feather poured him a glass. Once the first one was gone, he poured him another.

“So,” Rage finally asked solemnly, “what do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Feather sighed, “I’ve been wracking my brain since we left Mistress Ura’s. We don’t know what power could have done this, we have no leads on who used it, we don’t even know precisely where. We don’t even have a victim.”

Rage sighed, poured himself a third glass but began to nurse it rather than quaff it down like the last two. “If this was a war, I’d know what to do.”

“Oh?”

“If you need to kill a spider, burn its web,” Rage quoted an obscure treatise on strategy from memory. “If your quarry is hiding in a forest, you can set fire to the forest.”

“What do you do if he’s hiding in the mountains? You can’t burn a mountain.” Feather questioned, obliquely interested in the line of thought.

“Well, the point isn’t to destroy the terrain, it’s luring the enemy into the open,” Rage explained, “you don’t have to burn down the forest, just set a fire and wait for the smoke to drive them out. If you can’t drive them out, draw them out by offering something they can’t pass up. Way back in the Old Realm, the Solar general Shining Gold Spear tricked the barbarian king Gegflurt out of his castle by offering her hand in marriage…”

Feather suddenly shot out of his seat as if his idea had crept up and kicked him in the seat of his pants. “That’s it!”

“But I’m too young to be married!” Rage protested.

Feather ignored him, grabbed Rage by the arm and dragged him out of the bar and into the street. Yu Shan was a bustling metropolis the size of the Blessed Isle in Creation, at least a thousand miles long and five hundred wide, so the Chosen of Serenity hailed a ‘flying cart’, a small howdah on the back of a giant bird the size of an elephant. “Bureau of Destiny, please, Division of Serenity,” Feather told the handler, “official business of the Bureau of Destiny.”

The driver nodded and urged their mount to take to the skies. Feather was surprised at how smooth the ride was and made a mental note to get his sky riding licence.

“Uh, Feather,” Rage goggled at his companion, “should we really be putting something like this on expenses rather than our own chits?”

“My friend,” Feather said a little too loudly so he was sure the handler could hear him, “we are on a mission of vital importance to the Bureau! Why, our investigation could determine the Fate of the entire East! I don’t think our superiors will begrudge us some pocket change.”

“But…”

“Besides,” Feather interrupted, “we can use this time to decide on the best plan of attack. I think a war would be a little hard to arrange, a plague would solve the problem with far greater alacrity. Maybe we could even get a sample of the Great Contagion. That would certainly do the trick. Though, come to think of it, that might be a little too indiscriminate. What about a natural disaster? Or several! A famine would be good, if tricky to pull off in the fertile East. Maybe some floods? Oh, I know, why don’t we set off a chain of volcanos? That would probably kill enough people to…”

Feather was cut short by his partner slapped a hand over his mouth. Rage was looking a bit wild-eyed as he glanced meaningfully between Feather and the driver. “Shut up! We can talk about it later! No more wine for you!”

The rest of the ride was conducted in silence while Feather pretended to be slightly drunk and a bit put out by his companion’s harsh words. Once they were standing outside the Division of Secrets and the sky cart was well and truly gone, he dropped the act. “Perfect, Rage,” he slapped his companion on the back, “well played! Come on, we have an appointment to get to.”

Rage watched his partner stride off for several steps before following, thoroughly confused. “We were acting? What appointment? Where in the name of all the Incarnae are you taking us?”

“Don’t worry and just follow my lead,” Feather instructed as they approached the secretarial god at the front desk. She looked bored and was busy picking imaginary dirt out from under her nails. “Greetings,” Feather said, bowing formally, “I am Agent Shining Feather and this is my partner, Focused Rage. We need to see Uvanavu immediately. We apologize but it is a matter of great importance.”

“Great importance,” Rage echoed in agreement.

“Do you have an appointment?” The secretary questioned with severe disinterest.

“No but as I said, we need to see him immediately.”

“Sorry, Feather,” she answered by rote, “but Uvanavu is a very busy god with great responsibility over the order of all Creation and his time is in great demand. The Division of Serenity hopes to bring you joy, peace and love in the near future.”

Feather wasn’t bothered by the lie itself, he was more put out by how blatant the lie was. Uvanavu’s work load had been cut down from one hundred percent to ten by the Great Contagion. On the other hand he felt slightly grateful as it absolved him of the guilt of what he was about to do. “All right,” he sighed theatrically, “I guess we’ll just have to unleash the plague, then. Thanks for your time.”

The secretary almost jumped out of her chair. “Plague! What plague?”

“Well, we’ve got this big mess to deal with in the East, so we were just about to pop over to see Wayang about touching off a horrendously lethal disease to clear the weeds, so to speak…”

“Ok! Ok,” the secretary sat back down and started scribbling a note. Once that was done she rung a small bell that summoned a tiny messenger god that looked like a cross between a humming bird and a flying beetle with a rainbow-coloured carapace. She attached her message to one of its legs and sent it on its way. “Go on up,” she said with a fake smile, “I’m sure he can make time for a Chosen of Serenity.”

Feather gave her a fake smile right back as he passed by her desk. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“Yeah, uh, thanks,” Rage added.

The gods outside Uvanavu’s office were experts at looking busy and wasting time when there wasn’t really enough for any of them to do. The Department of Health was a hotbed of intrigue and politics inside the Division of Serenity, which was itself infamous for in-fighting, precisely because the gods that belonged to it had far too much free time. Feather couldn’t help but despise and pity them at the same time. On one hand, the Department of Health could make everyone in Creation far happier than might be strictly speaking healthy for the population while, on the other hand, they had to strike a balance with the Division of Endings. It was a sad fact that the gods had all the power and yet none at the same time. In that light, Feather couldn’t begrudge them their bitterness.

Lost in thought as he stepped through Uvanavu’s office door, the glass that struck the doorjamb next to his head came as a surprise. Standing behind his ornately carved desk that had been inlayed with striking patterns of gold and platinum, the God of Health was red in the face and shouting before Rage could get the door closed behind them.

“What, by the souls of all the Yozis, do you two think you’re playing at?” Uvanavu demanded. “We’re only just starting to recover from the Great Contagion and you want to knock down a quarter of what’s left? The quarter, by the way, that happens to be feeding most of the other three?”

“Well,” Rage injected hesitantly, “it’s more like a fifth if you count the Blessed Isle.”

Uvanavu glowered at him. As a seven foot tall, muscled, giant of a god only two steps down in the hierarchy of the Division of Serenity from Venus herself, Uvanavu knew how to glower threateningly.

“Actually, it seems that you have been misinformed,” Feather clarified, diverting the god’s ire onto himself, “we’re not considering the wholesale destruction of the entire East, just the Hundred Kingdoms area south of Greyfalls.”

“It’s full of rivers, you blithering idiot!” Uvanavu shouted. “Sailors will spread any disease that infectious all the way to Nexus! You could turn everything east of the Yanaze into a Shadowland!”

“Hmmmm,” Feather considered, “true that. What about a localized famine or some natural disasters? The people left would be much fitter after running from an erupting volcano.”

“I can guarantee that a major offensive would make them tough,” Rage added, trying to be helpful, “Greyfalls has been chomping at the bit for years.”

The god finally had enough, slamming his fists down on the table. Beyond anger, his rage reduced his voice to a low hiss. “If you do this, know that I will ensure the misery of your children and your children’s children. I will visit upon your families such vengeance that the poets of the future will write epic tragedies about the fate that you inflicted upon them. The two of you, however, will envy their torturous lives as you look up upon Creation from your posts in the Underworld.”

“I take it you’re not in favour of the idea?” Feather asked ingenuously.

“GET OUT!”

Back on the street, Rage stared at his partner like he’d been exposed to the Wyld and grown seven extra heads. It didn’t help that Feather was whistling a merry tune and looking pleased with himself. “What, by Malfeas, did we just do?”

“My friend,” Feather grinned as he put one arm over Rage’s shoulders while they walked through the crowded streets, “we just struck the first blow against our enemy.”

“Oh… how?”

“You made me realize that we’d had everything backwards,” Feather explained, “the attack on the Loom isn’t our enemies’ real attack, it’s his smoke screen. They’re hiding out in the tangles of destiny to obscure what they are really up to. What they’re doing right now, as we speak. And to do what has been done, they must know the workings of Fate. It’s even possible that the perpetrator is a Sidereal.”

Rage blinked. “Wow, you’re right, I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“So, you see, it would make sense that the enemy is keeping tabs on Yu Shan. Even if they don’t have connections in the city, they’ll be paying close attention to the Terrestrial Gods. What I just did, my friend, was set the fire to smoke the spider out of his web.”

Realization dawned on Rage again. “Oh! I see! Every god from the smallest bush to the tallest mountain are going to be running around like chickens with their heads cut off, thinking we’re about to start a small apocalypse in their courtyard, adding even more confusion to the situation. The enemy will either tip their hand because they’re forced to by the confusion or because it’s the perfect time for them to act!”

“Precisely,” Feather encouraged his politically inept companion, “but right now, we have to get moving.”

“So we can be there to crush the bad guys when they make their move?”

“No, so we’re out of Yu Shan before those rumours I planted reach the gods of the Division of Endings and they track us down to find out why we’re about to destroy half of Creation and forgot to invite them to the party.”

Rage thought about the implications of that for a moment before he started running.

#

Deep inside the Loom, Asra Firstborn descended onto the enormous knot that ninety percent of her children had been diverted from their usual duties to fix. Her annoyance at the disruption was palpable and infected the mood of her children, the Pattern Spiders, as they gathered around her.

“Mother,” one of them addressed her in the Spider’s toneless voice, “this unit has discovered the lynchpin of the disruption. If it could be removed, we estimate the time allocation for the task to be reduced by eighty percent or allow us to reduce manpower to one fifth of the current workforce and maintain the same timescale.”

“Show me,” Asra answered in the same toneless voice. They led her around the ball of tangled destinies, clinging to the threads like the spiders they were modelled after, until they reached a single thread that seemed slightly brighter than those around it as it entered the tangle.

“Here,” the Pattern Spider pointed it out, “this thread runs through the centre of the knot. When the core destiny of this area was destroyed, the other threads were pulled towards this, the next strongest, thread. May I have your authorization to facilitate the eventual termination of this thread?”

“Permission granted,” Asra Firstborn proclaimed, “proceed.”

Shuffling around to get a better position, the Pattern Spider reared back on its hind legs before striking down, sinking its fangs into the thread and poisoning its future.

Chapter 4

Tetsu couldn’t seem to scratch the itch in the middle of his back as he stopped in front of a house with a sign stuck over the door that read ‘Room and Board’ in Riverspeak. Giving up, he knocked on the frame of the rice paper door three times before someone answered, drawn to the flickering light of a warm fire that seeped through the barrier. The light was fading, the sun long since disappeared behind the surrounding mountains, and Tetsu wanted to be indoors before it became fully dark.

“Go away!” The feeble voice of an elderly man answered.

“The sign here says ‘Room and Board’,” Tetsu rebutted.

“Congratulations on learning to read. Now go bother someone else, we’re full up!”

“Old man,” Tetsu sighed, rolling his eyes, “there’s a cobweb on this door. Nobody’s opened it all day.”

The door snapped open sharply, revealing an old, bent, man just as crotchety in person as he’d sounded through the door. His face was so leathery and wrinkled he’d given up shaving and allowed his white hair to grow, though he kept the stubble in check and his clothes were a simple, grey, peasant’s tunic and matching pants bound with rope. Despite his advanced years, he was still spry enough to poke his nose in Tetsu’s face to see it through squinting eyes. He took one look at the sword and grunted. “All right, you can come in,” he admitted grudgingly, “as long as you aren’t a ghost and have money.”

Tetsu dropped a silver coin into the old man’s hand and stepped through the door as he was allowed inside. The inside was half hostel and half home. The entrance led straight to a foyer that looked like a peasant’s living room with the floor covered in straw mats and kneeling cushions laid around a low table. The fire took central place in the middle of the room with a normal kitchen behind a slatted wall through which could be seen various foodstuffs hanging from the ceiling. Another door seemed to separate the sleeping quarters and Tetsu hoped that there was another fire there to warm guests.

Apart from the old man, another strange figure sat against a bench looking bored. It was definitely a man, its limbs were too thick, its body too straight and its jaw too wide to be a woman. It seemed, however, that he was trying far too hard to look like a woman. He was wearing a bright, frilly, dress that had been patched badly from a great many tears and rips. The ‘corset’, if any tailor would call it that, was nowhere near tight enough to actually alter his waistline and whatever he had stuffed down the front to simulate breasts was far too large and hard to give a convincing impression. He had shaved his legs and seemed to think he was showing them off alluringly. On top of all that, the make-up he’d used had been applied thickly without the benefit of a mirror and his hair was tangled and matted from lack of brushing.

The old man just pretended the male prostitute wasn’t there as he stomped though to the kitchen and Tetsu decided that was the best idea, so he concentrated on getting the Daiklave through the door without knocking holes in the wall or destroying anything he’d have to pay for. Once it was inside, finding a place for it was another task. He eventually left it leaning in a corner with the blade pointed down and towards the wall so that nobody would accidentally lose a limb brushing against it. He also removed the saddlebag from his shoulder and laid it underneath where it would be out of the way. The prostitute pouted at him the whole time but he continued to ignore it.

With all that done, Tetsu sank into a cushion at the low table, relief coursing though his aching limbs. The wall was close behind him, so he leant back against it and closed his eyes. “Old man,” Tetsu called out, “rice and sake!”

“Yes, yes,” the grumpy old man called back, “keep your pants on.”

The prostitute stopped making eyes at Tetsu for a moment to glare in the old man’s direction. “Quit killing the mood you old bastard!”

The old man turned and spat on the floor in his direction. “You think anyone who could afford a sword like that would spend the night with an idiot like you?”

He pouted and gave the old man a one-fingered salute. The old man went back to cooking the rice with an ironic grin as he chuckled under his breath. “So what about it, stranger,” the prostitute readdressed Tetsu, stretching himself out in another attempt at being alluring, “care for some fun?”

Tetsu could help but notice the scar that peeked out from under the prostitute’s robe as it slipped down his shoulder further than he had probably intended. “Who hurt you?”

Slightly startled, the prostitute pulled his robe back up to cover it. “Nobody,” he said, avoiding Tetsu’s gaze, “some clients just like it rough. If you’re interested, it costs extra.”

The old man interrupted them by stomping into the room with a bottle of sake, three bowls of rice and two cups all of which he carelessly dropped onto the low table before sitting and helping himself to the rice. Tetsu couldn’t help but grin. “You have a strange sense of hospitality, Elder.”

“The faster I drive you away, the faster I can get back to my peace and quiet,” the old man snapped, spraying grains of rice onto the table. Turning his ire onto the prostitute, the old man thrust one of the sake cups at him before he could reach for his bowl of rice. “Well? If you want to dress like a harlot, the least you can do is pour our guest’s drink like one.”

The prostitute complied sullenly but Tetsu had to admit he handled the cup and bottle with natural grace. Watching the movements closely, however, he saw that the back of the prostitute’s hands and wrists were also crossed with old scars alongside a few healing welts. Accepting the drink with a nod, Tetsu took a sip and immediately felt calmer as the familiar burn of the rice wine slid down his throat. Closing his eyes, he savoured the taste, wringing every drop of pleasure out of each morsel. It burned but it was the fire of a hot bath in the winter, a cleansing fire to clear the underbrush of the forest to make way for new life. Quickly finishing the first cup, he placed it down on the table and allowed the prostitute to pour him another.

“Excellent sake,” Tetsu complimented.

The old man’s face split in a wide grin that showed off several gaps in his teeth. “You really like it? It’s an old family recipe…”

“The sake’s shit,” the prostitute scoffed, interrupting the old man’s tirade, “you’ve been on the road too long, stranger. The old bastard’s piss could floor an elephant.”

“Shut up you evil bitch and keep filling his glass,” the old man snapped, “I don’t care if your rice goes cold.”

“You’re wrong,” Tetsu asserted after finishing his second cup, “this sake tastes like the mountains, the rivers and the sky. If you can’t handle its pleasures then that’s your weakness, not the sake’s.”

The prostitute stared at Tetsu in astonishment as he took a sip from his third cup without yet having touched his rice. “Old man,” Tetsu broached, “are you his pimp?”

The old man turned and spat on the floor. “Do I look like I can afford to keep a freeloading layabout like him around?”

“Ha! I’m the only reason you get any customers at all,” the prostitute snickered.

“And they only buy my sake so they can forget their time with you,” the old man countered.

“If you’re not his pimp,” Tetsu interjected before they could start a real argument, “who is and why would they allow clients to scar him?”

“Ugh,” the old man sighed, “I can see you really are new here, stranger. I’d keep your nose out of local business and walk out of town at first light.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No,” the old man sighed, “just a warning. This town is cursed and the last thing we need is another fool with a sword.”

Tetsu spared a glance at his daiklave. “You mean like Bonzo?”

“Gah!” The old man turned and spat on the floor again. “His midwife should have strangled the little worm in human form while it was still in the crib.”

Tetsu finished off his third cup of sake and motioned for the prostitute to pour him another. “I met him for less than five minutes and I share your feelings already.”

The old man scowled. “Bonzo works for White Crane, Sifu of the White Crane Dojo. He’s also the Sheriff of River’s Bend and supplies guards to the caravans trying to bypass Rock River and Greyfall’s tolls.”

“And the Satrap puts up with it?”

“Heh, the Satrap,” the old man chuckled. “Greyfalls is a long way from the Realm and someone needs to mine the ore from these mountains. Also, not everything that comes out of this town is entirely legal but Dragonbloods like their luxuries. Red Wolf and Sanejin keep our neighbours quiet with liberal bribes and Guild connections. Red Wolf farms lotus in the mountains and runs the brothels and gambling… including this one.” The old man nodded toward the prostitute before continuing. “He’s also the Sifu of the Red Wolf Dojo and was White Crane’s friend and business partner not so long ago but the two of them had a falling out over the cost of bribes to customs inspectors. Both of them started vying for attention from the Guild then White Crane started stealing contraband from the caravans he was supposed to be guarding to sell for himself. Now the town is a battleground.”

“What about this ‘Sanejin’?”

“The God of River’s Bend,” the old man explained, “took up in the temple when I was only a boy. Since then, I’ve watched this town’s slow descent into Malfeas. He’s everyone’s friend and no-one’s. He supports neither side in the conflict but keeps the ore flowing and the customs inspectors compliant.”

“If things are as bad as you say, how does he keep the workers from rioting?” Tetsu asked.

“Stay for a while,” a voice said from outside, enunciating clearly in calm, deadly, tones. The door slid open, revealing a man wearing a fine white silk robe embroidered with fighting cranes. His platinum hair was tied up in an elaborate top knot with silver chains that draped down over his light blue surcoat. Bonzo closed the door behind them both as they invited themselves in, the old man and the prostitute rushed to bow at his feet. “We’re holding an execution in the morning,” White Crane informed them, keeping his eyes on Tetsu, “you should watch.”

Tetsu shrugged and sipped his sake. “Maybe if I’m not busy sleeping. Executions give me indigestion.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment before White Crane’s solemn frown broke into a wide, snake-like, smile. The smile seemed more threatening than his soft, utterly clam, voice. “Perhaps that’s a symptom of a guilty conscience. Bonzo, please remove Menji-san and the whore.”

The old man, Menji, and the prostitute didn’t need much encouragement to scuttle into the back room. White Crane sat with almost unnatural grace opposite Tetsu while Bonzo retrieved a cup for his master. The underling didn’t even bother to spare Tetsu a glance.

“Your sword is as magnificent as Bonzo informed me,” White Crane complimented as he nursed his sake, sipping small amounts at a time through his thin lips.

Tetsu considered the effeminate, pale-skinned, man for a while. The distant stare of the martial arts master’s ice blue eyes was disquieting and his manner unreadable. “Have you come about the man I killed?”

“No,” White Crane replied. “Bonzo is a fool. He should have known better than to challenge the man who could carry that sword.”

“Sensei!” Bonzo protested, prostrating himself.

“Be silent while your betters are talking, cretin.” White Crane brushed off his subordinate with dispassionate tranquillity.

“Then why are you here?” Tetsu asked, trying to stall for time enough to come up with a plan. White Crane was a master of the martial arts who had awakened himself to the flow of essence throughout Creation. Comparably, he was an annoying gnat.

“Men like us are rare in this backwater,” White Crane explained, “I would pay handsomely for your assistance and even supply a letter of recommendation to the Guild.”

“How much?” Tetsu asked, scratching his chin as if he were contemplating the offer.

“One siu a day plus room and board. I can even give you real Sake rather than this horse piss.” White Crane punctuated his insult by dashing his cup onto the floor, though his voice never rose above its usual serene monotone.

“That is a tempting offer,” Tetsu replied truthfully, one siu could feed a family for a week, “but I’ll have to decline. I’m expecting an offer from Red Wolf tomorrow.”

White Crane smiled again. “Red Wolf is a brute, a cheat and a criminal. Even if he offers you more, which is doubtful, you will never live to collect your reward.”

Tetsu nodded and slapped his thigh. “That may be, but I must at least hear his offer before I can make a decision. I will, naturally, inform you of his bid so you can make a counter offer.”

“Very well,” White Crane bowed politely before he stood and swept from the room, hardly pausing to allow Bonzo to open the door for him to leave. Once the obsequious student had closed the door again, Tetsu poured himself another cup of sake and quaffed it in one gulp to calm his nerves. “It’s all right; you can both come out now. They’re gone.”

Old man Menji and the prostitute crept back in as if White Crane were hiding in a dark corner waiting to surprise them. Menji walked sullenly into the kitchen to get a brush and pan then began to pick up the fragments of the sake cup that were scattered across the floor. The prostitute took the opportunity to wolf down his bowl of cold rice.

“I don’t know who you are,” Menji sighed, “but you play a dangerous game, stranger.”

“Usually, I prefer dice,” Tetsu sighed, trying to disguise his fear with glibness between mouthfuls. He just prayed that neither of his hosts could see his knees shaking.

“If I had your young legs, I’d be running for the mountains right now.”

“That wouldn’t be smart,” Tetsu sighed, “if I’m no use to him, White Crane would hunt me down to take my sword. I’d be outnumbered and they know the land better than I do. A sword, even such a large and pretty sword, can only do so much.”

Menji sighed mournfully as he stood, the final pieces of the cup gathered up in his pan. “Then you’re already as trapped here as the rest of us. I’ll pray for you, stranger.”

“My name’s Tetsu,” Tetsu called out after the old man as he left to dispose of the trash, “and don’t be praying to Sanejin for me. If this is how he lets his town run amok, I don’t need his kind of help.”

“You haven’t seen the half of it,” the prostitute sighed, a note of hopelessness in his voice, “and I can’t explain it. Watch the execution tomorrow, you’ll understand then.”

“I’ve seen executions before,” Tetsu said, shrugging.

“Not like these,” the prostitute shook his head, “but you won’t believe it until you see it. No sane person would accept the truth until they saw it with their own eyes.”

“That’s the Unconquered Sun’s own truth,” Menji agreed mournfully as he returned to the table, “Sanejin has turned us into animals. Even White Crane and Red Wolf are nothing but dogs fighting over scraps from his table. The rest of us are rats scurrying for the crumbs that fall loose.”

Tetsu had to wonder what sort of bad karma Menji had accumulated in his past lives when there was a knock at the door just as the old man had finally gotten comfortable. “What by Malfeas’ searing green sun do you want?” Menji swore, determined not to move unless he had to. The visitor, however, merely knocked again, more insistently, without answering. Cursing like a Linatha pirate, the old man staggered to his feet again and stomped over to his front door. “I’ve had my fill of guests today! We’re closed! Come back in the morning!”

The visitor simply knocked a third time. Tetsu began to feel a vague sense of unease.

The old man threw open the door, drew in a deep breath to begin cussing out the visitor… and froze, still as a statue. His blood drained from his face, leaving him pasty white as he stumbled back on numb legs before falling to the floor. Such was his fright that he continued to crawl backwards, unable to take his eyes off the apparition that stepped into the room.

The murdered scholar was looking worse for having been buried. Dry earth dripped from his long black robes like rain from a dark cloud. The blood on his face and robes had congealed but the wound still seeped, wet and red. The ghost ignored old man Menji and the prostitute that was staring at it with wide-eyed incomprehension and turned to fix its baleful gaze on Tetsu.

“I didn’t think ghosts were supposed to smell so atrocious,” Tetsu observed, wrinkling his nose as he poured himself another sake, “if you’re here to eat my face, Inkfinger, get on with it. You missed Bonzo by a few minutes; if you run you could catch up to him.”

The ghost turned away from Tetsu and bowed to Menji, who looked like he might keel over at any moment. “Please accept my apologies for the intrusion. I promise that I have no intention of harming anyone while in your place of residence.”

“So prim and proper,” Tetsu scoffed, “the dead are supposed to take their frustrations out on the living!”

“I wouldn’t expect a wild boar like you to understand,” the scholar snapped bitterly at Tetsu as he took a seat at the table, the prostitute skittering into a corner as far away as possible, “in three nights I will rise as a mindless ravaging ghost but until that time I will comport myself as I have always done so that I may enter my next incarnation with a clear conscience.”

“Bah. If I ever rise again, I’m going to make the most of it. Sake?” Tetsu offered the bottle to the ghost.

“Thank you,” the ghost bowed quickly before taking the bottle, “and perhaps some rice to help me concentrate?”

“Have the old man’s, he can get some more.”

“You are very generous with other people’s possessions,” the ghost scolded even as he picked up the chopsticks and started eating.

“Nonsense! If people didn’t want me to have something, they wouldn’t put it in a position where I could acquire it so easily. From my perspective, everyone is a philanthropist. I just don’t give them a chance to besmirch their own honour by proving me wrong.”

“Very witty but I think you’ve had too much sake.”

“Inkfinger, if you’re not going to eat my face, please do me the courtesy of not boring me with lectures on the evils of fermented beverages. I take it from the state of your robes that the villagers did actually bury you like I suggested.”

“Oh yes,” the ghost nodded, “they even forced the local priest to babble a eulogy at high speed, though they only managed a shallow grave. For future reference, the trick of burying a corpse face down doesn’t work. I may have left my flesh behind but even I can tell when I’m lying on my stomach. If you don’t mind me saying so, you seem awfully calm even considering the sake.”

“If you were here to kill me, you could have torn through the door and ripped my throat out with your teeth before I even knew you were there,” Tetsu reasoned, “but instead you came to the door and knocked. That probably means you have something to ask me, so spill it so I can get some sleep in a proper bed, Inkfinger.”

“Blunt but I can’t fault your logic. Before I get to the real question, however, why did you just stand by and let Bonzo slaughter me?”

Tetsu shrugged. “A man needs to take care of himself and what is his. It’s not my job to save every helpless fool that crosses my path; I have enough trouble keeping my head on my own neck.”

“I see. You’re selfish.”

“But still alive.”

The scholar sighed. “I guess I can’t refute that. The world from your perspective must be a bleak place.”

“Anyone who believes otherwise is wilfully blind. Now, what’s your real question?”

The scholar paused for a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. “Before I ask that question, I feel I should explain myself so that you fully understand what I must ask of you. My name is Yun Fasai and I am… was a simple scholar seeking patronage while earning a living doing odd jobs here and there in my travels. Several months ago, I came into this town in a caravan heading south from Greyfalls with my wife, Omeki. If I’d had even the slightest hint of what goes on in this town, I would have insisted that she stay in Greyfalls.”

“Red Wolf kidnapped her?” Tetsu asked, his interest piqued by the prospect of gaining some solid facts.

The scholar shook his head sadly. “You must not have seen enough of the village to notice yet. Didn’t you wonder that this establishment’s sole harlot is a man?”

Tetsu shrugged. “There are plenty of rent boys if you look hard enough.”

“True but nowhere else are they the majority, let alone the only type. Here in the lower town, however, there are no women; none at all.”

“I… it’s true,” the prostitute stammered in answer to Tetsu’s questioning look.

“There are no women because Sanejin, The Pristine Boyar of Vanity, seduces them all to his side,” Yun continued, a catch in his voice giving away the fact that he was close to tears. “He stole my Omeki’s heart with a single glance and she went to him willingly, as if all our years together meant nothing to her. In return for her love, he gave her eternal youth and beauty. She serves him now, along with any man able to pay for her time, as a temple whore. When I asked to see her, they told me that I’d have to pay like any other man. May the Incarnae help me but I did. I gathered everything we’d ever owned, sold our clothes, lied, cheated and stole just to get one more night at her side. At first she seemed to recognize me but insisted that she was happier than she’d ever been in her life and that I should forget about her and move on. But I couldn’t. Eventually she forgot about me completely, treating me like any other stranger, just another face in the crowd of lustful men. When my money ran out I fell into despair. I snuck around outside the high wall around the temple, climbing trees to try to sneak a peek at her. When I grew too tired, I begged at the side of the road, counting on the pity of passers by to favour me with enough money for one more night with the love of my life. When I became too annoying, Bonzo and his thugs would beat me, threaten to kill me, but I didn’t care. Several of Sanejin’s customers would brag to me that they’d paid double for her attentions, knowing that I was in the gutter outside. Some would tell me how good she was, describing what they’d done to her in excruciating detail. Others would beat me, claiming that I had neglected my husbandly duties in not teaching her how to properly pleasure a man. I didn’t care about the beatings but it became obvious that my begging wasn’t getting me anywhere, so I took to gambling what little I could scrounge together.”

“Then one day, Bonzo walks into the tavern, kicks you out on your ass and skewers you because you’ve become bad for business,” Tetsu finished the story for him.

“As you say,” the ghost confirmed sullenly.

Tetsu turned over his cup, spilling the last sip onto the floor and slamming the rim down hard onto the tabletop. “Well here I was thinking that if I could get through your smell, your lectures and the sight of your gaping chest wound then nothing you could do would put me off my sake. Now you turn my stomach, Inkfinger. Go kill Bonzo so I can get drunk in peace.”

“What was I supposed to do?” The scholar questioned rhetorically, scowling with indignation. “I have no skill in fighting. Even if I trained all my life I might never achieve enlightenment, let alone become powerful enough to challenge a god. Even if I thought Greyfalls might be inclined to start a war with the Hundred Kingdoms over one insignificant scholar’s wife, Sanejin keeps the Lords well bribed. Besides, she was happier without me, if I really loved her how could I destroy that happiness?”

“Then move on with your life, don’t mope around whining about your misfortunes.”

“You’ve never been in love.”

“Thank whatever God cares for small mercies. So what’s the point of that pathetic sob story?”

The scholar bowed his head formally once before pushing himself back from the table so that he had enough room to lower his forehead to the floor and kowtow properly. “Prince of the Earth, I humbly beseech you. So that my soul may rest peacefully in my next incarnation, please honour your blade and the name of House Cathak by destroying the cruel god Sanejin and restoring rightful order to this village. Let no other suffer the fate that was visited upon me in the name of the Scarlet Empress and the Immaculate Order.”

Adrenaline hit Tetsu’s tired body hard, suddenly cutting through the murky haze induced by the sake. Thinking at impossible speed, he turned and spat on the floor to buy himself time to think of a reply to worm his way out of the tenuous position he suddenly found himself in. In the end he settled on a half lie, which in his experience was the best kind of lie. “What makes you think I’m a Dragonblood let alone a Dynast? There are plenty of warriors in this world; even those with enlightened Essence are relatively common compared to the Lords. I’m just like any other.”

“My Lord, House Nellens may have built my homeland but House Cathak protects it,” Inkfinger explained, “and one of the areas I have studied in the course of my duties is the artifice of the swordsmith. By the design of your blade I can tell that it is of Cathak origin, probably forged for a Lord of Wood. Your ability to drink the old man’s sake, one sip of which could fell a Tyrant Lizard, barely intoxicates you. If you are not a Dynast, my lord, then I appeal to your honour and the greater duty of protecting Creation in the name of the Elemental Dragons.”

Tetsu sighed, trying to work out another believable lie. Unfortunately, old man Menji took the sound to be an affirmation of the accusation and crawled forward on his hands and knees, side eyes brimming with hopeful tears. “Y-you mean you really are a Dragon Lord?” Before Tetsu could even open his mouth to answer the question, Menji was on the floor next to the ghost, his terror completely forgotten. “Please, Lord Tetsu, I beg of you as an elder of this village, please save us!”

The prostitute, looking more confused than sincere, fell in beside them to voice his support of their pleas.

Tetsu ground his teeth in frustration, caught by his own ridiculously clever disguise, his greed, his lack of foresight and the annoying twinge of compassion he felt for the plight of these poor, downtrodden, whelps. “All right! Gods blast you; I’ll do what I can!”

Their thanks was effusive and extremely embarrassing. Tetsu did his best to ignore it, grabbing the bottle of sake for himself and slowly draining it one cup at a time.

Chapter 5

Tetsu woke the next morning to the sound of the old man slamming the shutters open. Rays of grim grey twilight stabbed his brain through his eyes as he stirred on his straw mat. “Damn you to the city of the Green Sun, old man.”

Menji grunted. “By law, all shops have to open up early on the morning of an execution.”

Yawning and stretching, Tetsu used the table to pull himself up into a sitting position. A crowd was gathering outside, downtrodden men whispering in uncharacteristically hushed voices around a raised dais in the middle of the square, upon which stood a set of stocks, open and ready for its next victim. White Crane ran his fingers gingerly over the wood and iron, following the curves of the device of torture as if it were a woman. His men made a perimeter around the dais, keeping the crowd off the steps and forming a clear path to the door of a fortified building. A quick scan of the crowd told him that what the old man and the whore had said was true; there wasn’t a single girl or woman in sight.

“I can’t watch this,” Menji whispered, shame and disgust etched into his face as he slinked away, “I will be in the back room.”

Curious, Tetsu stood to lean out the window, wondering what sort of punishment could be so horrifying that even a tough old bastard like Menji couldn’t stomach watching.

White Crane raised his hand to call for silence. “Men of River’s Bend,” he shouted, “Nyrium Sekim has been found guilty of dereliction of duty. There is only one punishment in this town and only one law. You will work for the betterment of the community… one way or the other. Bring in the prisoner!”

The door to the jailhouse slammed open as four men dragged a fifth, kicking and screaming, into the open air. It took one man to hold each limb as the prisoner thrashed like a caged beast. The crowd looked on in silence. No food was thrown, no jeers or insults, it had to be the strangest execution that Tetsu had ever seen. The guards forced the prisoner onto his knees while the four of them held his arms behind his back. White Crane calmly produced a bamboo canteen from inside his robe and held it aloft to deafening silence. Bonzo stepped up behind the prisoner and forced his head back as White Crane approached, uncorking the bamboo container as he did.

The prisoner was frantic but the guards held him fast. Bonzo planted his palm against the man’s forehead and put his weight behind holding the prisoner’s head back as he tried to force a metal ring in the prisoner’s mouth. Impatient, White Crane gave the kneeling man a barehanded slap that dazed him for a moment so that Bonzo could complete the task. The Undersheriff pinched the prisoner’s nose while White Crane forced him to drink, yet still the man struggled hopelessly, forcing his body not to swallow. In the end, however, it was either swallow or stop breathing; instinct took control and several loud gulps sealed his fate.

The guards let go and all the fight seemed to flow out of the prisoner as he slumped to the floor. Tetsu blinked, his mind trying to process the sight his eyes were transmitting to his brain and failing. The prisoner’s distant form shrank as it writhed on the podium even as his screams changed to a higher pitch and his hair spilled out over the ground. The prostitute whimpered in the corner of the room, his eyes screwed shut as the prisoner’s cries were drowned out by the roar of the crowd. White Crane’s militia let them lose to swarm up the podium like ravenous dogs after a bone.

Something broke inside Tetsu at the sight of the salivating mob of men attempting to clamber over each other in desperation. The part of him that broke, however, was not a hot rage that burned like fire and died just as quickly, it was a cold, hard, inevitable promise. His face showed no emotion as White Crane turned to show Tetsu the smirk on his face, giving the wanderer a jovial wave before departing with Bonzo in tow.

“Did what I just saw actually happen?” Tetsu asked nobody in particular.

“I told you,” Menji called mournfully from the other room, “there are no people left here; only whipped dogs.”

Tetsu felt his fingernails bite into the palms of his hands as the rape continued, the militia in white milling about the mob, waiting. His skin felt hot and his heart pumped furiously, yet he held himself as still as a statue, watching every moment, turning it over in his mind to try to comprehend the depravity it represented. Finally, Tetsu recovered from the horror and shook his head in disgust. “Old man, where can I find a dice game in this town?”

There was a pause for a moment before Menji stormed out from the back room. “DICE! YOU SEE THAT TRAVESTY AND ALL YOU CAN THINK OF IS DICE?!?”

Barely controlling himself, Tetsu grabbed the front of the old man’s jacket and lifted slightly to make his point. “If I ponder upon the state of this evil place a moment longer, I may decide that the only recourse is to burn it to ashes and send everyone screaming into the pits of Malfeas. I need to put some space between myself and this… abomination. Dice. Now.”

Puffing a little, Menji gasped. “High town. Red Wolf’s mansion’s on the outskirts. Painted red; can’t miss it.”

Tetsu let the man go, regretting his actions even as he stormed out of the inn without apologizing. Striding away from the square like a rampaging Tyrant Lizard, the wanderer was halfway across town before he even noticed his surroundings, the screams far behind him. His back began to ache as the adrenaline left his body, injured from his desperate gambit with the impractical sword that now rested across his shoulders, weighing him down as he climbed the stairs to high town.

The character of River’s Bend changed on the higher tier. In the valley below, the town square and ramshackle hovels hugged the river as it snaked through the lowest point of the valley. The higher one ascended the mountain towards Sanejin’s Temple at the summit, the more affluent the houses appeared until full blown villas and pleasure complexes surmounted all else. Tetsu spied the clan symbols of several Dynast families on the walls and banners of the mansions high above, though House Cynis seemed to predominate, which was no surprise to Tetsu. The Cynis had their dirty claws in every brothel, pleasure house and slave market even remotely connected to the Realm. Unsurprisingly, Tetsu noted that while the Great Houses were well represented, the Immaculate Order was nowhere to be seen.

The people that moved through the streets were cleaner and better dressed than those in the valley but their eyes had the same haunted look as they scurried about like mice, fearful of their own shadows. They moved around Tetsu as if he were a rock in the middle of a stream, failing to comment on his alarming appearance. Continuing down the street, Tetsu considered starting a fight just to take his anger out on something and clear his head but a sight came into view as he rounded a corner that gave him a better target.

Red Wolf’s mansion was hard to miss. Painted bright red with incandescently white rice paper doors and pitch black floorboards, the sprawling complex seemed to glow in the sun. At the apex of the front arch were embossed letters of gold leaf that clearly proclaimed the owner’s name. In contrast to White Crane’s militia, the two guards that stood by were a ragged couple that didn’t bother with proper uniforms but wore a red and gold bandanna to signify their allegiance. Tetsu felt a slow, nasty, smile spread across his face as he stepped towards them, his knuckles itching.

“HALT!” The dimwit on the left cried out, noticing Tetsu first. When Tetsu failed to obey, they both drew daggers from behind their backs. “I said HALT!”

Tetsu made a production of yawning as he slowed down, stopping only a few feet away. “Calm down. I’m here to gamble.”

The one on the right seemed to have a more nervous disposition than his compatriot as he eyed the Daiklave on Tetsu’s shoulders with undisguised fear, sweat trickling from his brow. “N-no gambling here; move along.”

“Eh?” Tetsu scoffed, managing a scowl at the same time. “I have real money if that’s what you’re worried about.”

The one with more spine spat at Tetsu’s feet. “No weapons allowed inside.”

Snorting, Tetsu hoisted the daiklave off his shoulders and buried the point into the dirt so he could lean on it. Both of the guards jumped as the weight seemed to shake the earth under their feet. “Well, that’s not very fair is it?” Tetsu observed, leaning against the daiklave nonchalantly. “If the two of you can have your weapons, why can’t I?”

The guards glanced at each other. “Well,” the spineless one started to answer, then couldn’t figure out what to say, “because!”

“Red Wolf’s orders,” the other one snapped.

“Oh? Who was the last person who handed over their weapons, huh?” Tetsu questioned the bold one, snorting derisively.

The braver one started looking a bit more unsure of himself. “Uh… we’ve never…”

Tetsu shook his head and tutted. “Red Wolf won’t like that one bit. Not one bit at all.”

The spineless one’s eyes widened. “Y-you know Sensei?”

“I’m looking for a Scholar,” Tetsu growled, holding one hand up, “he’s about so tall, hails from Greyfalls. Long thin goatee, black hair, built like a sapling.” Tetsu caught the look of recognition in their faces as he’d calculated. The Inkfinger had gambled at Red Wolf’s. “Where is he? SPEAK!”

The spineless one fell to his knees, stuttering rapidly as he kowtowed. “I-I-I don’t know! He hasn’t come today! P-please, you’re welcome to wait for him! Please spare me, Prince of the Earth!” The braver one took a few steps back as Tetsu shouldered the Daiklave, keeping it balanced with one hand. Unimpeded, he stepped through the gate without glancing back, confident that the guards had been sufficiently cowed.

Feeling impressed with his improvised performance at the gate, Tetsu quickly got back into character as an effeminate man in a red silk robe half ran out of the mansion to meet him, bowing constantly as he effused. “Welcome oh humble Prince of the Earth, our house is honoured with your presence. May I take your shoes? You must have travelled many leagues, o great enlightened master!”

Impatient, Tetsu the Dragonlord kicked the servant when he knelt to untie his boots, sending the hapless man sprawling into a shrubbery. Clomping up the wooden stairs without pause, tracking road-dirt along with him as he threw open the sliding doors, Tetsu stomped inside. He was met by the fearful stares of two dozen men who knelt on mats around a low table with piles of chips in front of them along with another who wore nothing above his belt and held a cup and dice in his hands. Wiping his nose on his sleeve, Tetsu kicked off his boots and strode forward, casually dropping the Daiklave nearby. “I’ll buy in,” Tetsu announced, producing a money pouch, “ten silver Dinars.”

The gamblers muttered as Tetsu threw the silver onto the table in front of the dealer and forced them to make room for him. They were mostly middle or lower class, all male, but at least they’d had a bath in the last day. Tetsu absently tried to remember exactly when he’d had his last bath, or at least the last time it had rained on him but couldn’t. The man on his right felt forced to pinch his nose while the one on the left looked to be on the verge of vomiting right there on the table. Tetsu smiled as he raked in the chips that the dealer pushed across to him, noticing the man’s quick hand signal to wave off what was certainly more guards observing from shadowed corners or behind secret doors.

“Bet!” The dealer proclaimed, getting back to business, holding up the two dice between the fingers of his left hand and showing the inside of the cup to the gamblers in his right. Tetsu screwed up his face as if he was indecisive as the others made their bets on evens or odds. “Bet?” The dealer finally queried Tetsu who’d failed to bet.

Tetsu shook his head. “The magic isn’t in this round.”

Shrugging, the dealer threw the dice into the cup and started them spinning inside with a practiced move. Tetsu noted which gamblers leant forward in anticipation and which sat back to hide their nervousness. The dealer finally slammed the cup down on the table, then slowly pulled it away to reveal the dice, a four and a two. “EVEN!”

There were cheers and scowls as the dealer collected and reallocated wins and losses, adding several chips to the house pile. Tetsu watched the man’s hands as he moved, eyes narrowing as the dealer raised the cup and dice for examination. “Bet!”

Smirking, Tetsu pushed all of his chips forward. “Odd.”

The other gamblers whispered and muttered amongst themselves, amazed at what appeared to be either courage or recklessness. “Sure?” The dealer asked as a courtesy against such a large bet. Tetsu nodded. “I feel the magic in this one.”

Surreptitiously, the dealer glanced over Tetsu’s shoulder at the curtain behind that swayed gently in the breeze. Whatever he saw must have been positive because he left Tetsu’s bet in the pool while taking the other bets. Some went in with Tetsu, some against depending on their whim. Tetsu merely smiled as the dealer threw his dice into the cup and set them spinning. The dealer left them spinning for a few more turns than last time, heightening the tension and playing the crowd for all he was worth. Finally, he slammed the cup down.

Tetsu moved with the dealer, rolling forward onto his knees and slamming his clenched fist down on the back of the man’s hand like a hammer. The dealer screamed as his bones crunched under the force of the blow but Tetsu pinned him there, letting him struggle like a fish on the end of a hook. Gamblers cried out in alarm, both from the shock of Tetsu’s blow and the sudden appearance of men in red headbands that seemed to spring from every nook and cranny in the room, swords drawn.

“WAIT!” Tetsu commanded in such a thunderous voice that even Red Wolf’s soldiers hesitated and froze. Silence descended. Slowly, Tetsu lifted the dealer’s hand. A single dice dropped from his palm, bounced off the cup and skittered across the table, landing on a three. Holding the man’s broken hand in the iron grasp of his right hand, Tetsu lifted the cup with his left, revealing a four and a six.

“The man sitting three places to the left of the dealer is the house’s accomplice,” Tetsu explained, “he lost the last bet on purpose to hand you the chip that contained the loaded dice. One of the original dice will always roll even, the other is normal. One of the dice your accomplice passed you will always roll even, the other odd, so you only have to swap a single dice to control the outcome. The normal dice is in the fold of skin between the palm and thumb of your left hand. Well executed, if uninspired.”

Allowing the dealer have his hand back as he stood, the man clutching the shattered mass of flesh and bone to his chest, Tetsu sighed and held up his hand to about chest height. “You gentlemen wouldn’t happen to know a scholar by any chance? About so tall, long goatee, black hair?” He asked, quickly counting nine guards, ten and a half if he included the dealer and his accomplice. The gamblers froze where they lay at the shock of the guard’s sudden arrival and the show of naked steel, yet all of them were too greedy to abandon their chits.

For a long moment, everyone stood still. Surrounded by guards, Tetsu kept his hands out in the open in an effort to keep them calm while he considered his options. Depending on how skilled Red Wold’s bully boys were, he might be able to take one hostage but it was doubtful the rest would care enough not to slice through one of their own. He certainly couldn’t fight his way out and was well aware that he’d have to berate himself for biting off more than he could chew in one sitting later. The only asset he had left was his overinflated reputation and a talent for fast talking, which he resolved to put to good use.

“If we do this, someone will certainly die,” Tetsu said in a clam level tone, purposefully forgetting to mention that the person certain to die was himself. “Nullify the last throw, give all of us our money back and I’ll leave peacefully.”

The silence that followed was interrupted by a slow clap from the doorway. Turning to see the new arrival, Tetsu discovered a tall sightly overweight man with a bald head and a long beard who wore a long red robe with gold wolves embroidered along the hem and a simple thick rope belt clenching it at his waist. Behind him were six more guards, including the two from the front gate. “Well played,” Red Wolf congratulated Tetsu, grinning widely as he continued to clap. “Men, be so good as to take the dealer and his crony out and disembowel them, please, then pay back the rest of these layabouts and kick them into the street. Prince of the Earth, would you be so kind as to take a drink with me?”

Bowing gracefully, Tetsu allowed Red Wolf to escort him into a corridor while the guards got to work, the screams of the dealer and his accomplice were cut off as the door closed behind them. “Don’t worry about your belongings,” Red Wolf mollified when he noticed Tetsu glancing back, “my men know to care for my guest’s apparel. Of course, I don’t think any of them will be able to lift that sword of yours.”

Tetsu grunted in reply, not trusting that his nerves wouldn’t make their way into his voice. His host continued to smile peacefully as they walked, content in silence just as much as he was with words. Entering the atrium, Tetsu had to marvel at the beauty of Red Wolf’s grounds. Carp frolicked in a shallow pond fed by a slender stream that wound its way through bare rock from the mountain above while bamboo trees provided natural shade. Red Wolf led him to a pagoda constructed over the pond itself, connected to the water by numerous stepping stones, where a young girl dressed in a long red kimono was waiting by a low table with Sake.

“I was told all the womenfolk served Sanejin,” Tetsu commented as he sat down. Red Wolf chuckled as he followed suit on the other side of the square table. “He’s good, isn’t he? A gift from a Guildsman I did a favour for, a courtesan from the exotic southern city of Chiaroscuro. Mamo has served my Sake for close to five years now, raised as a girl in all ways. Mute, though, doesn’t speak a word. His loyalty, however, is without question.”

Looking at Mamo, Tetsu couldn’t fathom how the thirteen year old could be anything but a girl and wondered if he’d been made a eunuch by the Guild slavers. Tetsu wondered that all the town’s sad stories hadn’t buried the place long ago and nodded gratefully as his Sake was poured. “I assume that you are Red Wolf,” Tetsu greeted.

“As I would assume that you are the newcomer, Tetsu the Wanderer,” Red Wolf countered, his peaceful smile failing to waver for even a moment.

“News travels fast in this town,” Tetsu commented.

“People are like carp in a pond, the wise fisherman reads the movement of the water and casts his line to the most auspicious spot,” Red Wolf answered cryptically. “Then again, your arrival was more like a stone hurled at the surface.”

“Discretion’s never been my strong point,” Tetsu acknowledged, snorting derisively at himself. Together, they picked up their cups and drained them before placing them upside down on the table before them.

“Pity,” Red Wolf said with a sigh, “I was hoping you were an Immaculate spy.”

Tetsu raised one eyebrow. “I would have thought that would be the last person you hoped to see.”

“Not at all! Why, an Immaculate might rather liven things up a bit around here. An honest one, of course, if such a thing exists in Creation.”

“I thought Sanejin must have had an abbot bought off somewhere with all the Dynast mansions in town.”

Red Wolf smirked. “Oh, the Dynasts don’t want the Immaculates poking their noses in this place either. They don’t want anyone to know exactly what they get up to in Sanejin’s Temple. It’s bad enough to make a Cynis blush.”

Tetsu chuckled. “By the way, White Crane made me a job offer last night.”

“Oh? And what did you say?” Red Wolf inquired, his smile not wavering in the slightest.

“I told him it was only fair to let you make a counter-offer.”

“You saw the execution this morning, didn’t you? I promise I’ll only kill you rather than turn you into one of Sanejin’s sluts when I win,” Red Wolf said, his smile wider but the words completely sincere.

Tetsu couldn’t help but laugh. “That’s a good argument for joining you, I’ll give you that. You’re that confident of winning, with or without my help?”

“White Crane is a fool,” Red Wolf said, waving his hand in the air as if shooing a bothersome fly, “far too impressed by titles. Ever since Sanejin made him Sheriff he’s been strutting around like a Dynast… no offense.”

“I’m not a Dynast, so none taken.”

“I haven’t given up on you being a spy yet. Where was I? Oh, yes, the Sheriff. Honestly, it’s only a matter of time before Sanejin or the Guild catches him with his hand in the paybox like I did. Likely, Sanejin will gain a new bride soon after.”

“I heard the two of you had a falling out?” Tetsu inquired.

“What’s the old saying? Two tigers cannot live on the same mountain? Something like that.”

Nodding, Tetsu turned his cup over for Mamo to refill. Red Wolf followed suit. “Honestly, I’d rather stay out of this fight,” Tetsu admitted, “civil wars are so messy.”

“Then why not stay out of it?”

They drained their cups again together, placing them back on the table upside down.

“Because if I don’t take a side, both of you will be after me,” Tetsu chuckled, “on the other hand if I pick one of you, I only have to worry about the other one being out of my sight.”

Red Wolf chuckled. “A most dire quandary, I’ll admit. Though, if you’ll forgive me, there might be a third solution that you haven’t considered.”

“Oh?” Tetsu asked, genuinely curious but half suspecting what was about to come next.

“Work for us both. Promise your support to one when the time comes, join the other then double cross the one that seems to have the upper hand at the first opportunity.”

Tetsu shook his head. “My dear Red Wolf, I have to applaud your cunning. Unfortunately, I’ve got too much common sense to play such a game. After all, you already suspect me and White Crane isn’t fool enough to fall for such a ruse. No, that course of action was the first one I discarded. Now, make me a higher offer than one siu a day plus room and board so I can delay my employment to White Crane.”

Red Wolf raised one eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

“Oh, we both know why. If you make an offer, White Crane has to come up with a counter-offer. Then I get to delay further by getting your counter-offer in return. You may be confident of victory but one less obstacle in your way never hurts. And it’s not like stalling my employment will cost you anything. We both win… assuming your confidence wasn’t just an idle boast.” Tetsu spoke the last sentence with a wry smile on his face.

“Ha! I like your style, Dragonlord. Very well, four siu plus room and board; I think you’ll find that White Crane has to struggle a bit to match that offer.”

Nodding, Tetsu scratched his chin considering the situation. “I see, you still control the lotus trade and your Guild contacts.”

Red Wolf nodded, matching Tetsu’s wry smirk.

Sighing, Tetsu rose to his feet. “Well, since our business is concluded, I will take my leave. I’m sure you have more pressing matters to attend to.”

“I thank you. I hope you return again soon,” Red Wolf said, standing to escort his guest out, “hopefully we’ll have a better game to play by then.”

Chapter 6

Tetsu ignored the ache in his legs as he continued up the slope that weaved up the mountain like a snake. Other travellers paid for rickshaws, particularly those who were deep in their cups and still boisterous after a day of roistering. Some may have been Dragon Lords, most however were merchants and bureaucrats, and none of them were interested in a vagabond outcaste trudging up a hill.

The temple gate dwarfed the pedestrians passing through it, easily thirty foot tall and almost twenty wide, composed of cyclopean blocks of granite with bright silver writing inlaid up each side that Tetsu couldn’t read. Tetsu paused as he looked up at the gate, marvelling at the sheer scale of the building as he scratched the stubble on his chin.

“You! Outcaste!” One of the guards, a man wearing the uniform of the White Crane School, barked at Tetsu. “Push off! This place isn’t open to the likes of you.”

Tetsu absently wondered what it was with guards in this town that made them think barking at even an Outcaste was conducive to continued good health. Smiling ironically, Tetsu took a few steps up the slope towards the man until it was obvious how far he towered over him. “Greetings,” Tetsu said cordially, still smiling, “you haven’t seen a scholar recently by any chance? About five feet tall, black moustache and beard?”

The second guard laughed. “Yun? Yeah, we know Yun. What’s he to ya?”

“Ah, nothing really,” Tetsu said as he reached into his tattered robe to scratch his chest hair, “I heard he had a pretty wife in here.”

“Ha! Yeah, that’s right,” the first guard affirmed with a grin, “done her a few times myself!”

“Pathetic old man used to beg here,” the second confirmed, “until White Crane ordered us to kick his ass down the mountain if he ever turned up again.”

Tetsu chuckled along with them. “Yeah, must be hard pimping women when there’s someone reminding all the customers what disgusting wretches they are.”

It took a moment for the guards to realize what Tetsu had just said. Both glared daggers at him. “Hey! You watch your mouth!”

“And you know there’s only one thing that disgusts me more,” Tetsu continued, “pathetic dogs that beat up poor scholars.”

Rage made the guard’s first blow sloppy, just as Tetsu had planned. Taking the punch on the chin without blinking, Tetsu grabbed the front of the first guard’s robe and casually tossed him over the edge of the cliff. His scream was cut short by the crunch of bone against rock. The second stood stunned for a moment too long, allowing Tetsu to grasp his throat with ease, his startled cry strangled off into a low gurgle. The man’s eyes bulged as Tetsu drove him to his knees with one hand.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” Tetsu complained, “it makes you look like a horse I met on the road yesterday. I liked that horse.”

“Please,” the guard croaked, using up precious air with every syllable, “I don’t want to die.”

“Well, here’s the problem,” Tetsu said as he snapped the guard’s neck, “you don’t deserve what you want.”

Tetsu turned back to the gate after kicking the guard’s corpse over the cliff to join his partner’s shattered body far below, a plethora of rickshaw drivers, house servants and waiting customers staring at him in stunned silence. Passing the line, he was greeted by a gorgeous woman with long dark brown tresses that curled about her waist, otherwise wearing nothing but a light gauzy robe that practically left her perfect curves in plain view. The customer at the head of the line stepped aside for Tetsu hastily, knees shaking from fear.

“Welcome to the Palace of Eternal Pleasure,” the temple prostitute greeted, bowing deeply, “the Great God Sanejin, Pristine Boyar of Vanity, welcomes the Dragon Lord into his house and offers to you all the blessings that lie within.”

It was Tetsu’s turn to stare. The woman bowing before him wasn’t merely beautiful. She was perfect. Her skin was creamy, smooth and without a single blemish. Her hair seemed to shine in the light, flowing like liquid chocolate over her shoulders. Her face was so delicate and lovely that Tetsu’s palm ached to stroke her cheek so that he could stare into her deep brown eyes. Her body offered a plethora of other delights, ripe for the picking. It took every ounce of willpower he had to control the sudden onrush of lust. “I desire a shave and a bath,” Tetsu growled, gritting his teeth from the effort, “in whichever order is the most convenient. I have money.”

“Of course, Lord,” the prostitute said calmly, “please follow me.”

It was hard for Tetsu to take in the Palace of Eternal Pleasure with the distraction of the temple prostitutes rear wiggling in front of him. He wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him inside the walls of the compound, however, or the excess to which the occupants were enjoying the luxuries on offer. The compound was circular, surrounded by a high, thick, wall. Four giant circular foundations flanked each of the cardinal directions on the wall upon which rested tall pagodas, each appearing to have been carved from a single monolithic block of green stone. Inside, the buildings and walkways were built on stilts over a giant, steaming, hot spring that made clothes unbearably warm and damp enough to cling to the bodies underneath.

The temple prostitute led Tetsu past several small, circular, buildings that, from the sounds Tetsu could hear, acted as private feast halls. Such buildings surrounded the temple courtyard that was more a giant, circular, communal bath surrounded by a single walkway with others branching out to provide access to the rest of the buildings as well as the four enormous gates that stood at each cardinal direction. Nearly a dozen men and women frolicked in the bath, indulging in various vices that weren’t too embarrassing to be committed in plain sight. Everything from drugs to fine food seemed readily available, one elderly gentleman that Tetsu noticed was busily licking pomegranate pulp from the chest of one of the temple whores, a dusky-skinned woman at least as beautiful as his guide who was making dutiful cooing noises. Noticing his gaze, the prostitute gave Tetsu a sly, conspiratorial, wink that made him chuckle before turning to follow his guide once more.

She stopped at a large, circular, door that had been painted the same purple as the gate, turned to him and bowed her head submissively. “My Lord, please enter this private room and avail yourself of the facilities. I have been told to cater to your every desire, free of charge.”

Tetsu raised one eyebrow. “Sanejin was expecting me?”

“Master Sanejin hoped you would visit us,” the whore explained, keeping her head bowed, “he left instructions to care for you should you arrive unannounced. If I am not your type, I can call another to attend to you if that is your wish.”

Snorting in response, Tetsu kicked the heavy door open and stepped through, easing the daiklave down so the tip wouldn’t scrape against the ceiling. He had to admit, he was starting to get used to it being there. “I don’t have a type,” Tetsu muttered. The room beyond the doors was another large circle, another circular bath resting at one end so that the walkway around it formed a crescent. Alcoves off the main room provided the other necessities; mirrors, beds, silk robes, grooming supplies and even cosmetics for female guests.

She smiled. “Then I would be happy to attend to you,” she said, entering behind him and closing the door. “What does the mighty Dragon Lord desire?”

Tetsu wondered what he could get away with without being poisoned, stabbed or otherwise done away with. “The mighty Dragon Lord desires a shave and a bath. Also, go put one of those silk robes on.”

She blinked in surprise. “If my Lord would prefer the company of the same sex, we have several highly trained male courtiers of the finest stock from…”

“No, no, no,” Tetsu interrupted, rolling his eyes, “you’re just a bit distracting… dressed like that.” Thinking about it, Tetsu couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming down her body. The dampness of the mist outside made the gauze cling to her like an invisible skin.

His answer made her giggle, her hand straying to her full lips as if she were embarrassed, a move that just made her cuter and more desirable. “Of course, my Lord, anything to please you,” she said, slipping in a barely noticeable emphasis on the ‘please’ as she sashayed into the wardrobe to select a garment.

Several ways that she could please him forcibly bubbled up into Tetsu’s mind from his subconscious. With great effort, he battered his libido back into submission, a task made more difficult by the fact that he had to undress while doing so. Leaving his sword resting on a wall nearby, he stepped into an alcove that had a basin of steaming water and a bucket contained a wash cloth and soap and began to bathe, a luxury he hadn’t been able to properly indulge for years. Kneeling at the basin, he set the soap and cloth aside and dipped the bucket in the water before pouring it over his head, allowing the hot liquid to roll down his body like a miniature waterfall.

Opening his eyes, he found the whore leaning against the entrance to the alcove wearing a long yellow silk robe embroidered with silver dragons. The collar was wrapped around her slender shoulders rather than up around her neck, managing to display and accentuate her soft flesh rather than conceal it. Though the rest of her body was at least covered, the curve of her waist, hips and legs were still visible through the silk. It was an improvement for Tetsu’s mental state but not by much.

“How long has it been since you’ve bathed?” She inquired, sounding genuinely interested.

Tetsu considered his answer. “I can’t remember,” he said truthfully, dropping the cloth into the basin to soak while he lathered his body with the soap. “Mostly I wash off in fresh water or rain… and then, only when fate permits. I expect if this soap had a mouth, it would be screaming right now.”

His jest made her giggle again. Stepping forward, she knelt behind him and lent over to retrieve the wash cloth, pressing her breasts against his back to do so. “Here, let me wash your back,” she whispered, pulling back to apply the hot cloth. Tetsu let her, though his lust and paranoia warred within him, he didn’t have the heart to rebuke her. He didn’t turn around either, suspecting that she’d gotten soap suds on herself deliberately to provoke him into allowing her to go naked, a situation that would probably be the death of him.

“You have many scars,” she observed, tracing the ones on his back through the cloth.

“Life on the road is hard,” he answered, “and it creates hard men.”

She chuckled knowingly. “Well, all girls like bad boys, you know.”

“Not as much as they like rich men, though,” Tetsu answered sarcastically.

Her ministrations paused for a moment before she continued. “Oh? Is that what you think of this place?”

“I’ve yet to see a reason not to.”

“Yes,” she chuckled, “I’ll admit it looks bad. But it’s not what it looks like; this is a place of compassion and love.”

Tetsu glanced at her over his shoulder, partly to show the disbelief on his face. “Love?”

“Master Sanejin loves all of Creation,” she explained, “and every being in it. As his bride, it is my duty to spread his love as far as I can so that other beings can feel a fragment of the adoration that I hold for Him.”

“At least as far as those who can afford it,” Tetsu countered.

“We have to eat,” she said with a sigh, “and maintain the temple. The rest of the money goes to Master Sanejin’s great works as he paves the way to a brighter future.”

He turned away so that she wouldn’t see the frown on his face. He recognized the note of belief in her voice, the utter conviction that lay beneath her words. It disturbed him on some deep level, a part of himself that he’d never encountered before and barely understood. “I witnessed an execution this morning,” Tetsu countered, leaving the rest unsaid.

“Yes, such things are… unfortunate,” she said with deep regret. “Our new sister is healing and we are doing everything in our power to help her.”

“Why allow it at all?” Tetsu asked, growling the question.

“I… am not permitted to say. If you have the opportunity, ask Master Sanejin.”

Tetsu blinked. “You know, I’ve never met a God before; spirits from time to time sure but never a proper God. What’s he like?”

“Master Sanejin is the most sublime being in Creation,” she answered with utter devotion, “the day I first saw him changed my life and gave me purpose. He set me free.”

He felt his frown deepen. Sanejin was surrounded by Dragonbloods from Greyfalls, his temple and the people within it a spit in the eye of the Immaculate Order and yet it still endured. Until that moment, Tetsu hadn’t really understood how far from civilization he really was. The town wore the trappings like a cloak to disguise the barbarism that lay beneath. Even though he had never been one for religion of any persuasion, at least the Immaculates kept the peace. “You wouldn’t happen to know a scholar called Yun by any chance?”

“No,” she answered emotionlessly as she continued to scrub the dirt off his arms and shoulders, “is there any reason I should?”

“No,” Tetsu chuckled mirthlessly, “I guess it’d be too much of a co-incidence for you to be his wife. I watched the Undersheriff murder him yesterday.”

She paused again. “Why would the Undersheriff do such a thing?”

“He was hanging around, making a nuisance of himself. Gambled his way into debts he couldn’t pay; the usual.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” she argued, “White Crane has the Water of Infinite Perfection, there’s no need for anyone to die!”

“Maybe even a worm like Bonzo felt a small pang of pity,” Tetsu conjectured, “a wasn’t able to send the man off to an… execution.”

Tetsu heard the wet slap of the washcloth hitting the floor behind him. “I’m sorry,” the whore apologized, “I… I have to go!” With that, she fled from the room, clutching the robe about her.

“Just as I thought,” Tetsu said to himself as he continued bathing himself. The door opened again just as he finished rinsing himself off. The woman that entered was tall, almost as tall as Tetsu, and athletic. Curly red hair spilled over her left shoulder in a style more popular in the North, a wave concealing that side of her heart-shaped face. She was also naked from the waist up, her only article of clothing a plain white cotton loincloth that barely concealed anything below the waist either.

“Master Sanejin sends his deepest apologies,” she said in greeting, “please forgive Anako for her lapse. I am Reni, Master Sanejin sent me as her replacement.”

“Funny,” Tetsu said as he stood up, conscious of the effect she was having on his manhood, “I thought her name was Omeki.”

Reni shrugged, a move designed to draw his eye to her bare assets, which she displayed for him shamelessly. “Many of us take a new name when we enter Master Sanejin’s service. What would you desire of me, my Lord?”

“Wait for me in the bath,” Tetsu ordered, “I’m going to shave before I join you.”

“I would be happy to groom you if you like, my Lord.”

“No,” he declined, “I don’t trust anyone with a razor at my throat but me. I’ll only be a few minutes.”

He turned away from her as she disrobed, ducking into the alcove with the mirror. He heard her enter the bath, splashing around a little as he shaved and absently wondered what he was going to do with her. Tetsu the Dragon Lord would screw her brains out. Tetsu the Fragile Mortal Wanderer wasn’t sure that was a good idea as much as he wanted to. Glancing out at the girl as she enjoyed the hot water, Tetsu mused that she was as different to ‘Anako’ as night to day. Whatever power Sanejin’s strange potion had, he surmised that it must enhance what already exists in a person rather than transform the victim completely. Anako was the sort of woman that exemplified maidenhood, she appeared to be a girl of marriageable age who would make a good wife and bare healthy children, a softer beauty that made a man feel protective. Reni was the opposite, a wild rose with thorns, bold and adventurous.

Taking his time shaving to buy time to think, Tetsu became sure that Sanejin was testing him. He had to assume that the God would know about his encounter with Bonzo and the death of Yun and thus send Omeki to gage his reaction. Assuming this was true, Tetsu extrapolated that by recognising Anako as Omeki, he’d proven himself astute if not a bit paranoid. So the next question was: how did he want to appear to Sanejin now? Looking out at the girl who stood with her back to him as she brushed out her damp hair while rivulets of clear water traced the arch of her back, Tetsu sighed with longing.

“Unfortunately,” he whispered to himself, “this is a sacrifice that I’ll just have to endure.”

#

Reni screamed with Tetsu’s every thrust, her broad shoulders braced against the edge of the pool with her legs wrapped around his waist. He grasped her hips tightly to prevent her slipping as he pistoned inside her, gripped tightly by her welcoming body. The water lapped against the edge of the bath, agitated by their lovemaking. Tetsu barely noticed the door open, all his concentration on holding himself back. “One… second…” he managed to grunt, determined not to be interrupted.

Finally, Reni let out a howl of ecstasy as her back arched; the muscles in her whole body spasming in release. Tetsu let himself go a moment later, thrusting deep as he came. Sated, he allowed himself to drift back into the water, leaving Reni to rest on one of the steps as she came down from her orgasm, eyes closed and breathing heavily.

“Well done,” the newcomer applauded as he stepped to the edge of the pool, “it takes a real man to tame Reni like that.”

Looking up, Tetsu had to blink at the man that stood above him. His skin was pale and hairless, almost like a woman’s. His face was also quite feminine, sharp angle and a wide jaw the only part betraying masculinity. The hard, muscular, body below it, however, could never be mistaken for a woman’s, with broad shoulders almost comically too large for his hips and abdominal muscles that could be used as a washing board. His lower half was covered with baggy black silk pants clinched at the ankle, though he was barefoot, with a red silk cloth embroidered with black dragons breathing golden flames wrapped around his arms and waist that trailed along behind him. He also wore his lustrous black hair long enough that the tip below where it was bound together tickled the ground behind him, a gold ribbon woven through it in elaborate patterns that held the strands in shape. Tetsu inclined his head in thanks. “That’s quite a compliment coming from a God.”

Nodding in affirmation of Tetsu’s assumption, Sanejin knelt beside Reni and stroked her cheek in affection. Smiling, she opened her eyes to look up at him with adoration. “Sorry, my love,” she apologized in a voice that shouldn’t be used with a man that she hadn’t made love to moments before, “it’ll be a little while before I can stand.”

“It’s ok,” the God whispered lovingly to her, “rest easy. I’m very pleased with you.”

She smiled in contentment at his words and nuzzled his hand.

Tetsu coughed, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “If you two would like to be alone…”

“Nonsense,” Sanejin interrupted, flashing Tetsu a gracious smile, “I’m here to discuss business with you. I hope you found my bride satisfactory?”

“To say yes would be an understatement,” Tetsu complimented truthfully, if a little uncomfortably. “Frankly, I didn’t expect you to come yourself, though.”

Sanejin grinned, looking for all the world like a little boy with his hand in the cookie jar. “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet the Outcaste that has White Crane and Red Wolf in such a flap now, could I? I’m especially impressed… particularly considering it’s all a great big con.”

Tetsu froze. “A con?” He asked ingenuously, his first instinct to feign ignorance.

“Oh, come now,” Sanejin admonished, “I knew you were mortal the second I stepped through the door. Personally, I think that just makes your accomplishments even more impressive. Red Wolf and White Crane have been messaging me all day trying to get me to pledge my support if they can get the mysterious Outcaste on their side.”

“And Red Wolf said he didn’t need me,” Tetsu said, pouting, “I’m hurt.”

“Courageous,” Sanejin complimented, “but I’m sure I don’t have to point out to you that you’re in an awful lot of trouble right now. A little grovelling wouldn’t go astray.”

“Eh? May I remind you that I just fucked one on the most beautiful women I’ve ever met?” Tetsu asked rhetorically, sinking back against the opposite edge of the pool. “I’m filled with too much smug satisfaction to be worried about anything at the moment.”

That made Sanejin throw his had back and laugh, full and deep. Wiping the tears from his eyes, the God crossed his legs to sit more comfortably at the edge of the pool without getting his clothes wet. “You amuse me. All right, you’ve called my bluff. I’m not about to tattle-tail on you… what gave me away?”

“If you were going to get rid of me, I’d already be dead,” Tetsu observed, shrugging, outwardly calm while his mind raced ahead trying to work out a bluff to get him out alive and with his manhood intact. “The moment you stepped through that door, you’d have obliterated me. Of course, it’s a good thing for both of us that you didn’t.”

Sanejin raised one perfect eyebrow. “Oh?”

“If the people who hired me don’t hear back, they might assume the worst,” Tetsu lied smoothly.

“Sooooo, you’re a spy?” Sanejin asked, leaning forward.

“Right now,” Tetsu grunted, “usually I prefer quicker, dirtier, jobs like killing bandits. I should have known this job payed too much when I accepted the contract but I needed the coin.”

“Then, since you’re telling me this, I assume you’re not here to spy on me,” Sanejin observed, “so who hired you?”

“A Guild merchant who paid me in freshly printed Realm script. At first I thought it was a bluff, one side trying to cast suspicion off onto the other. Looking at this town, I’m willing to think both of them have a stake in finding out what’s going on down here. I was instructed to take a ship downriver and walk into town from the south to help divert suspicion too. My employer said that he was concerned that the infighting between White Crane and Red Wolf was getting out of hand, disrupting business. If Greyfalls has a hand in this, though, I’m betting they’re worried the fighting will attract the wrong kind of attention. Bribed officials can only turn a blind eye to so much.”

“If what you say is true, why wouldn’t they send some of their own to investigate?” Sanejin asked persistently.

“I can only assume they’re short on Dragon Lords,” Tetsu answered, scratching his ear, “they don’t grow on trees after all. Besides, someone might notice that they’re missing. Then again, maybe I’m just expendable.”

“Nice story,” Sanejin complimented again, chuckling, “unfortunately, it doesn’t explain the sword.”

Tetsu rolled his eyes and slapped his forehead. “Ugh. I told them I couldn’t fool a God.”

“Not at all, you were doing so well.”

“Only because most of it was the truth,” Tetsu lied, knowing that Senejin would never believe the real truth. “All right, look, I’m an agent for Greyfalls. House Cynis is worried about the Lotus supply and they wanted me to get this trouble between Red Wolf and White Crane sorted out one way or the other. If I fail, it’s no skin of their noses. The sword’s some sort of victory prize they’ve kept hidden, so losing it’s not that big a blow either. I figured if it all went wrong I’d run west and trade it for passage but after I got here I realized that I was stuck; there’s just too many people in this town waiting to knife me in the back. Speaking of which, are you going to turn me in to White Crane or what?”

“Now why in all under Heaven would I do that?” Sanejin asked incredulously.

“I figured you’d noticed that you’re a couple of guards short. White Crane’s your favourite isn’t he?”

“Favourite? I despise the man,” Sanejin scoffed.

Tetsu cocked his head to one side. “What?”

“I think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here,” Sanejin said with a sigh, “I’m not the one in charge.”

Not believing what he was hearing, Tetsu slapped the side of his head to see if his ears cleared out. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard you correctly. I was told you were the God in this town.”

“A God, yes,” Sanejin admitted bitterly, “I’m also a prisoner, a patsy and a figurehead. I had everything I wanted before the Guild discovered the mineral wealth in these mountains. Then one day White Crane and Red Wolf saunter into town and start running the place, threatening to slaughter my worshippers and call in the Immaculates. I’m not a god of war, I was forced to bargain. Now my Brides are treated like whores instead of divine conduits and my town is a Malfean cyst on the face of Creation, not that your Dynast masters care one whit about that.”

Scratching his chin, Tetsu considered what he was hearing. Sanejin was either a master dissembler crying innocent or an honest God caught in a bad situation. Tetsu was willing to bet that the truth was somewhere in between. “You’re right that the Dynasts don’t care. That doesn’t mean that I don’t care. I’m a mortal, I don’t like to see my people suffer. I have one question; they say that you ensnare women on first sight with your power. Is that true?”

“I can,” Sanejin freely admitted, “but it’s a power I have to choose to wield. Before White Crane made me promise to deliver the Water of Infinite Perfection to be used as he saw fit, it was only used by those who were willing. These days, I use my power on those who have been traumatized by the change forced upon them in order to heal them and keep them out of the clutches of the Guild. Any woman who I don’t claim is shipped west to be trained in Guild brothels and sold into slavery, I like to think that I am the lesser of the two evils.”

“What about Omeki?”

Sanejin sighed deeply. “By the ancient law of this town, anyone who asks to drink of the Water of Infinite Perfection must be allowed to do so. Omeki came to the temple and asked to drink because she was dissatisfied with her marriage and feared that Red Wolf wanted her for himself. Rightly so as it turns out, he’s one of Anako’s best customers. Of course, if Red Wolf hadn’t gotten to her, White Crane would have. They’re out of control, accosting a scholar. If the Immaculates notice, they’ll be in more trouble than I will, not to mention the Great Houses and the Guild.”

“Did you try to help Yun?”

“Indeed I did, I felt so sorry for the man. I paid for some of his visits to Anako at first before she asked me to stop… more correctly, I arranged for some money to fall into his hands. It wasn’t unil he refused a drink from the Water of Infinite Perfection that I understood the real problem. He loved her enough to beg in the street for her return but not enough to sacrifice everything for her.”

“That’s… asking a lot from a man.”

“I accept nothing less than perfection,” Sanejin shrugged, “it’s what I am. If Yun was in love with Omeki, he would have sacrificed anything to be with her but what he was really in love with was she did for him. Such selfishness can only bring on a tragic end.”

“Harsh but probably true,” Tetsu admitted, not wanting to anger the God. “So, what happens now?”

“Now?” Sanejin repeated the question, rolling it around on his tongue. “Well, that depends. If you are who you say you are, then perhaps we have goals in common. Even if you’re lying, I’m sure you’re smart enough to understand the threat I pose to you personally. Either way I think we can work together, you’ve certainly proved your competency. If I allow you to leave unharmed, what’s your next step?”

“White Crane,” Tetsu answered honestly. “I saw Red Wolf this morning and got him to make a counter-offer for my services. I came here to buy some time to think about what to do next, as well as get a proper bath and maybe an opportunity to talk to you. What we really need to do is eliminate both of them at once then fill the power gap with someone a bit less excitable and a bit more controllable. Unless you have a better idea, I’ll go to White Crane and offer to join Red Wolf to betray him at an opportune moment. Once I’m on his side, Red Wolf will start to move against White Crane. Instead, I’ll stab both of them in the back. You pick their successor, someone you trust to run the place as ethically as possible without pissing off Greyfalls or the Guild. Everyone’s happy.”

“Interesting plan,” Sanejin said, scratching his chin, “do you really think you can pull it off?”

“The way I see it, if I can’t pull it off, I’m dead. If I run, I’m dead. If I don’t do what I say, you’ll know I was lying about the whole thing and I’m dead. If I succeed… maybe I get to live a bit longer. You risk nothing by letting me leave and stand to gain quite a bit. It’s the best sort of deal for you, unfortunately for me it’s what I’m stuck with.”

“I was right,” Sanejin smiled as he stood, “I do like you. Help yourself to some real clothing, on the house, you’re free to go when you wish.”

“What do we tell Red Wolf and White Crane about my time here?”

“Tell them we talked and you tried to get me to make you an offer for your services but refused you outright,” Sanejin explained, “since it’s been made clear to me that local politics is none of my business and I have no need of mercenaries when they’re around. By the way, this temple is neutral ground. I will brook no violence inside the gates... no matter how amusing it might be to watch you hurl people over cliffs.”

“Sorry,” Tetsu apologized, though he was chuckling at the same time, “they really pissed me off.”

Sanejin smirked. “I hope you’ll visit us again soon.”

After the God left, Tetsu rose out of the water and left Reni to recover in the pool, bundling his old clothes into a hamper that he wrapped around the hilt of the Daiklave and putting on fresh green robes and sandals from the wardrobe. Feeling like a new man, he strode confidently from the room, holding his head high as he passed the merrymakers who pointedly ignored him and back out on the path down the mountain.

Only the most astute of observers would note that his knees were shaking the entire time.

#

Somewhere on a lonely road some distance south of River’s Bend, two grown men and a little girl prayed at a makeshift grave under a tree with a simple inscription on the trunk. The little girl prayed bravely even though tears were rolling down her cheek and her voice was breaking from grief. Finishing their prayers quickly, the men turned from the grave and left the little girl to say her goodbyes.

The first man, a reedy figure in a heavy yellow robe with sleeves almost half again as long as his arms, produced a canteen and handed it to the second. The second man, obviously a warrior of some skill, accepted it with one large muscular hand and took a swig. Gulping, he nodded in thanks as he handed it back. “Whoever buried him walked north from here,” the warrior observed, scratching the back of his head, “you sure it wasn’t the same person who killed him?”

“Positive,” the smaller man answered, adjusting his glasses. “So soon after casting a spell like that, the killer’s going to leave a miasma behind like a bad smell everywhere he or she goes, maybe for months. When we find them, I’ll know.”

“Good,” the warrior said, glancing back over his shoulder at the sobbing little girl kneeling in the grass, “I want their heads.”

Chapter 7

The sun was setting on a ridge overlooking River’s Bend as Focused Rage fell lightly on his feet from a small dust devil that dissipated above him. Shining Feather fell gently to earth as his spell dissolved, though he looked a bit haggard from the concentration used to maintain the effect for the full eight hours of travel. The closest gate to and from Yu-Shan had been far to the south, forcing expedience over stealth.

Shining Feather surveyed the valley below, taking in the town as a whole before looking for details. “Dynasts?” He said with some surprise, pointing out the banners flying atop some of the larger mansions near the top of the hill to his compatriot. “What’s Greyfalls doing this close to the Hundred Kingdoms?”

“Come on, Feather, nobody cares about anything that goes on this close to the Boardermarches and Rock River’s a stone’s throw away for a Lunar. If Greyfalls wants to take a chunk out of the Hundred Kingdoms, this would be a good place to start.”

“You know, Rage, sometimes you surprise me,” Feather admitted. “The geomancy of this area is… powerful. Notice the architecture of the temple on top of the hill? The paint’s new, not to mention garish, but carving like that hasn’t been replicated since the First Age. What’s the bet there’s a manse under there?”

“No bet. Let’s go in, check the lay of the land,” Rage suggested, eager to get started.

This time, Feather agreed. “We stay quiet, no big damn hero moments, ok?”

Rage nodded before leaping off the cliff. Feather followed, the two Sidereals leaping silently from treetop to treetop, the lightness of their footfalls and quiet rush of wind from their passage not even disturbing the birds. The sun sank below the ridge, plunging the valley into darkness just as the companions reached the rooftops, allowing them to flit from building to building unseen. Occasionally, one would call a halt to eavesdrop on an innocuous conversation, at other times they’d have to wait for small groups to pass by before they could continue. They paused to take stock once they’d reached the main square, nesting between chimneys where the casual observer couldn’t spot them.

“Feather,” Rage whispered, “have you seen any women yet?”

“No,” Feather answered, “and it disturbs me.”

“There’s something wrong with this place,” Rage said, shivering, “I just can’t put my finger on it. Know what I mean?”

Feather frowned. He knew his companion wasn’t as skilled at debate or as intelligent but he trusted Rage’s instincts, indeed, he’d bet his life on them. “No, I can’t feel it. Describe it to me.”

“I don’t know, it’s like… it’s like a bad smell hanging in the air but it’s not the slums. It’s almost like a shadowland but not the same as that either. It feels… oily, like my skin’s coated in it and I’ll never be able to get it off.”

“Malfean?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt like this. Maybe it’s an effect of the loom being all screwed up…”

Feather didn’t want to shush his companion but something was happening in the square below, so he held up his hand for silence. A tall man in a white robe embroidered with blue cranes fighting over a silver fish led six men in white and yellow uniforms from a nearby alley across the square towards an old, ramshackle, inn. The leader threw the thin rice paper door aside and stormed into the place a moment before the screaming and shouting started.

“Maybe we should get closer?” Rage suggested.

“Yes,” Feather agreed, “but remember, no heroics.”

Rage clenched his teeth but he nodded agreement and the two padded silently across the rooftops. Faces sometimes appeared at surrounding windows to stare hopelessly at the spectacle but nobody came out or raised a voice to challenge what was going on. Settling on a closer rooftop with a better view, the two Sidereals listened closely.

“I don’ know where he is!” An old man’s voice cried out. “H-he left here, fuming with rage after the execution! I-I thought he might kill someone!”

“Where did he go?” A younger voice demanded an answer, the type of voice cultured by years of giving orders and expecting them to be followed.

“I-I can’t be sure, he didn’t say!” The old man wailed.

“CUT HIM!”

“NO! STOP! I re-remember. He asked where he could find a dice game in town…”

Rage tapped Feather on the shoulder and pointed down the street. Following the direction his partner indicated with his eyes, Feather spotted a large, muscular, man in a fine green robe with a matching Daiklave striding towards the inn. He paused for a moment, finally close enough to hear the commotion, before striding a bit faster toward the shouts and screams.

“…I told him where he could find Red Wolf and… and… and he hasn’t been back! I swear to you, he hasn’t been back!”

“Red Wolf,” the younger voice spat just as the man in the green robe arrived at the door.

“Sorry I’m late,” the man in green jibed from where he stood in the doorway, “I didn’t realize we had an appointment.”

“Lucky,” the leader in white rejoined, “I almost thought Red Wolf had made you an offer you couldn’t refuse.”

The man in green dropped the daiklave off his shoulders before stepping inside and discarding the weapon with a casual toss. The impact on the floor of the hut made the walls shake. Rage whistled appreciatively and Feather had to remind him to stay quiet.

“I stopped in to Sanejin’s on the way back,” the man in green explained, “I thought it was only fair to give him a chance as well. Old man! Sake! Now!”

“Y-yes… sake… yes… Kano, go out back and wash your face.”

There was a bit of movement inside as people took seats, got drinks and dropped money on the tables. After a few moments, a sobbing boy no more than twenty years old stumbled into the alley from the back of the inn and washed his face in a rain basin.

“Whore?” Rage whispered, noticing the boy’s clothing.

“Male whore,” Feather answered, “I can’t imagine this place is so low rent they can’t afford to keep a woman unless we’ve just uncovered the only primarily homosexual mining town in the East.”

“No way,” Rage sniffed, “this place isn’t that fabulous.”

Feather had to stifle a laugh just as the meeting below got back to business.

“So, you met with Red Wolf and Sanejin?” The voice of the man in white asked.

“Not at the same time,” the man in green scoffed. “Red Wolf quadrupled your offer.”

There was some muttering among the men at the tables.

“Unfortunate,” the man in white said, sounding disheartened, “I can’t meet that price.”

“Yes, he mentioned that.”

“And Sanejin?”

“At first he said that he had no interest in local politics and this matter was between you and Red Wolf. But then, he also said that he entrusts you with the Water of Infinite Perfection and anyone who could bring a quick resolution to the issue would be well compensated.”

Feather looked at his partner in askance. Rage shrugged. Even more interested now, Feather got up into a crouch and slowly crept closer. A quick, silent, jump put him on the roof of the inn where he could lean slightly over the edge above the window and hear everything.

“I see,” the man in white murmured, considering the situation.

“Red Wolf knows you can’t meet his offer. When I show up tomorrow morning, he’ll hire me on then strike as soon as possible. You can lay a trap and when he’s at his most vulnerable, I’ll stab him in the back. All you’ll have to do is cleanup.”

“Then what’s to stop you from double crossing me?”

“Oh, come on,” the man in green admonished, his scowl clear in his voice, “I get Sanejin’s gratitude if I help you. More to the point, you keep that filthy water of yours away from me. Also, I get your gratitude once you’re running the show around here. If you want more, though, look at it this way. When the time comes, I’ll have to pick one of you to double cross. You’ll be the one springing the trap and I won’t know when, how or where you’ll be coming from. If I double cross you, you can put an arrow right between my shoulderblades and I’ll probably never see it coming.”

“Heh, you have a point. Tetsu, I may just be starting to like you.”

“Don’t, I might brush up well but I’m still a foul smelling barbarian at heart.”

Tetsu’s jest caused a chuckle amongst those gathered. There was some noise as the men in white stood.

“Very well,” the man in white finally agreed, “I will leave to make preparations. If you can stall Red Wolf for a day, it would be better.”

“I’ll try,” Tetsu agreed, “if I can I’ll get a message to warn you. Red Wolf might have a trick or two up his sleeve.”

“Thank you. Sleep well, Tetsu.”

“And you, White Crane.”

It took a few minutes for White Crane and his militia to file out of the inn. Rage gave Feather a beckoning motion to call him back but Feather raised his hand to show he was staying put.

“My Lord,” the old man addressed Tetsu once White Crane’s men were out of earshot, “thank you. I thought we were dead or worse.”

“Sorry I wasn’t here sooner.”

“So White Crane will win then?” The old man asked, a note of desperation in his voice. “By the most holy, it will be worse than before. This town is lost.”

“Eh? Now you’re jumping to conclusions, old man.”

“What? But you said… and White Crane said… and you were both… just now…”

“It’s called a lie, Menji,” Tetsu growled, “Sanejin doesn’t favour either side and he isn’t offering a reward either.”

There was a long pause. “Then,” the old man stuttered, “you’re siding with Red Wolf?”

“Jumping to conclusions again,” Tetsu said, sighing in forced patience, “like frogs from Lilly pad to Lilly pad. I’m not on anyone’s side.”

“Then… Sanejin?”

“Won’t lift a finger,” Tetsu grunted, “says White Crane and Red Wolf are threatening to kill his worshippers if he gets involved. I don’t know if what he says is trustworthy… and I don’t trust anyone. All the same, if Red Wolf and White Crane kill each other he’ll be happy. The trick is how to do it without getting stuck in between them. Now be silent and keep the sake coming. I need to think.”

Feather stood and rejoined his partner, silently signalling that they should retreat back into the forest to watch. Alighting in the branches of a tall tree with a good view of the town, they came to rest.

“All right, what did we find out?” Rage asked.

“We’ve got four players in local politics,” Feather summarized, “Sanejin, the local god; White Crane and Red Wolf, who seem to be rivals, probably competing dojos; and Tetsu, someone trying to pass themselves off as an Outcaste.”

“Huh? I thought he was an Outcaste.”

Feather shook his head. “I checked, he’s mortal.”

“A mortal who can throw around a Daiklave like that? Impressive. What’s his stake then?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe he’s just an opportunist, maybe he’s a pawn for one of the major players. It doesn’t sound like he’s fond of any of the other three, though, even if they are all bidding for his services. You’d think a god would recognize that he wasn’t Exalted at all, however…”

“Maybe he’s our culprit or working for them at least.”

“Possible, I can’t rule it out. Whoever he is, he’ll probably get himself killed playing all three factions at once. Still, what does a turf war between rival militia and a knot in the Loom have in common? It’s not the sort of thing you go to so much trouble to hide.”

“Hey, you were the one who planted those rumours back in Yu-Shan. It sounds to me like someone’s starting a war. Sure, it looks small now but you know better than I do how these things can blossom in the most unlikely places. It’s just a turf war at the moment but if someone important gets killed in the crossfire, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“A war between the Hundred Kingdoms and Greyfalls? That’s certainly a plot worthy of concealment from the Bureau of Destiny. Still, it seems somehow… petty.”

“You’d be surprised how many wars have started for petty reasons.”

“Actually, no, I don’t think I would. It’s a good starting hypothesis but I get the feeling that there’s more behind it. We don’t want to lock ourselves into a mode of thinking quite yet, we’ve only got the first few pieces of the puzzle.”

“You’re right,” Rage acknowledged. “What’s our next step, then?”

“Sleep first but come morning I want you on reconnaissance, see if you can spot anything suspicious and get the lay of the land. I’m going to follow our new friend, Tetsu. I don’t know what his game is yet but something tells me he’s up to no good.”

#

Sipping the old man’s Sake, Tetsu mused by the diffuse light of the flickering lantern flame. Alone amongst the deep shadows that wavered in the light, he frowned at the deeply oppressive air that seemed to press in from all directions. He paused in the middle of his next sip, a strange ache pulsing in his chest. Dropping his cup, he ripped open his robe in time to see two fleshy orbs expanding behind his nipples…

Tetsu started awake, halfway to his feet before discovering that the room was dark and empty. Clutching his chest, he found it flat and hard as normal. Rubbing his nose and sniffling, a horrible and entirely familiar smell reached his nostrils. “Come in, Inkfinger,” Tetsu whispered, sinking back into his corner of the room, “I guess you’re the one who stinks now.”

The rice paper door slid open quietly, the dead scholar padding in still dripping graveyard earth. The ghost sat, barely visible in the ambient moonlight. “Pardon my intrusion so late in the evening. If I might beg your indulgence, my Lord, are you any closer to resolving this matter?”

“I’ve been negotiating all day,” Tetsu explained, “they’re a cagy bunch. I’ve got some questions for you, though.”

“Oh?”

“I met your wife.”

Tetsu watched Inkfinger’s shadow stiffen. “What did you do?” The ghost asked, almost accusatory.

“Not what you’re thinking, though she tried. She was quite upset when I told her you were dead.”

There was a long silence. “But she said… she didn’t remember me.”

“Play acting,” Tetsu grunted. “She wanted you to forget about her and move on. Of course, I suspect you’d have been murdered on the road anyway. Still, Sanejin’s worried that your death will attract the Immaculates and they’ll come to burn the whole place down.”

“Do you think so?” Inkfinger asked brightly, obviously enjoying the prospect.

“No, the Dynasts will make sure the Immaculates don’t cause a scandal. I’ve got two questions for you, Inkfinger. Sanejin said that he offered to let you drink the Water of Infinite Perfection, is that true?”

Inkfinger nodded sadly. “He did. But I couldn’t do it. What good could come of being with my wife is I wasn’t… whole?”

Tetsu shrugged. “I don’t care to judge. Life as Sanejin’s brainless pet? I’d rather die myself. Second question; are you sure that Sanejin is in cahoots with White Crane and Red Wolf?”

“Why ask that?” Inkfinger returned a question, sounding confused.

“Sanejin claims that Red Wolf and White Crane are threatening his worshippers, forcing concessions from him in the name of Greyfalls and the Guild. How does that sit with you?”

Inkfinger considered the question for a while before answering. “It’s… possible. Usually it’s the job of the Immaculates to bully… er… censure local gods. A couple of two-bit enlightened mortals wouldn’t be as effective but they could do the job. It’s hard to believe a couple of nitwits like those two could pull something like that off but if they have secret backing from the Guild or Greyfalls anything’s possible.”

“Hmmm… I don’t trust Sanejin but I can’t help but feel like there’s someone else pulling the strings around here. Something doesn’t add up.” Tetsu said, deliberately leaving out Cathak Markul’s death. The wanderer didn’t believe in coincidences, there was a connection between Markul and River’s Bend that he couldn’t see yet.

“Well, I have a piece of information that might be relevant,” Inkfinger said, leaning a forward a little. “During the day, I strayed into the Underworld. As you can imagine, there’s a lot of restless spirits in this town’s graveyard, so the two realms are particularly close. You can imagine my surprise when I discovered that there’s a regular migration of ghosts moving north at the moment. I took a risk questioning a particularly talkative decapitated gentleman who told me that a circle of Immaculates is making trouble down south searching for a small group of Anathema. If that’s true, they’re probably heading east into the Boardermarches. If what you say is true, however, and Anathema have made their lair near River’s Bend… who knows what they’re capable of? Corrupting the town and the Dragon Lords that come here… it’s not so far fetched.”

“Maybe not and it’d explain why everyone’s so on edge. Still, I was thinking of the Guild or Greyfalls agents, they’re bad enough without dragging Anathema into it.”

“It might be nothing anyway,” Inkfinger admitted, “a coincidence.”

Tetsu bit his lip, thinking again about Cathak Markul. An Anathema could certainly kill a Dragonblood in a way that made his chest explode if even half of the stories about them were true. In his youth he’d heard an old man tell a story of a man who had been killed by an Anathema in such a way that he didn’t realize he was dead until he’d turned into a Hungry Ghost on the third night and devoured his own family. Thinking about it, he couldn’t help but stare at Inkfinger’s shadowy form and wonder.

“How are you feeling, Inkfinger?” Tetsu asked.

“Cold,” Inkfinger said simply. “I didn’t know the dead could feel fear but I’m scared. Bonzo’s circled his room in White Crane’s mansion with salt and refuses to step an inch outside of it at night until I’ve been destroyed. That’s where I was earlier tonight, seeing if I had a chance.”

“I wondered why he wasn’t here earlier. How did he know you’re coming for him?”

“Oh, after I left here last night I snuck into his room through a window and tried to strangle him in his sleep. The little bastard’s a light sleeper, woke up just as I was about to wrap my fingers around his neck and started to scream. I fled before White Crane showed up, barely got away.”

Tetsu grunted. “Amazing he came to the execution this morning. Pardon my curiosity but what’s your next move?”

“Well, I was thinking about that on the way here,” Inkfinger admitted. “They’re a bit busy at the moment, rushing around for some reason, so I thought I’d set fire to the dojo. These accidents happen so easily when tensions are so high. Maybe I’ll douse Bonzo in lamp oil first. The more I think on it, the more I realize how much he deserves to suffer before he dies. I’m not sure I really want to end him anymore, a slow and agonizing death is what he deserves, a small taste of what it’s like to fade away as your lifeblood seeps from the wound in your chest.”

Frowning, Tetsu scratched the back of his neck. “I know he did you wrong, my friend, but you’ll have to pardon me when I say that your grip on basic compassion is slipping. I know you can’t let him live but your soul will rest easier if you just kill him.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Inkfinger considered, sighing. “But then again… you’ve been here a day. While you were whoring half of that day away, I was huddled in a tiny graveyard, listening to the stories of the other lost souls bound to the cursed place. Before that, I was gambling and begging in the streets here, watching and listening. The villagers tell stories of the mines when they get drunk. The poverty, the disease, the miasma of despair in old town is palpable in the world of the spirits. Everyone is a stranger in this village, no-one is trusted.”

“Yet Menji and Kano practically threw themselves at my feet,” Tetsu scoffed as he scratched his chin.

“Menji’s so old, the horror of death no longer troubles him. Still, I think he’d like to see this village free before he dies. Then a Dragon Lord walks through his door, a demigod exalted beyond all other mortals. He probably prayed every night for an Immaculate monk but an Outcaste vagabond would do in a pinch.”

“Are you trying to insult me, Inkfinger?” Tetsu queried, smirking in disbelief.

“Just stating facts,” the ghost shrugged. “But then again, maybe I’m angry with you for bathing and sleeping with a sublimely perfect woman while I’m dripping dirt and courting maggots. So, now that you’ve stirred the political situation into a sandstorm what’s your next move?”

“I’ll be joining Red Wolf,” Tetsu muttered, “and selling him out to White Crane. Then I’ll sell them both out to Sanejin. Depending on what Sanejin does, I’ll sell him out to the other two. If that doesn’t start a war of mutual destruction then we’re all doomed.”

Inkfinger snorted. “I take it back. Chances are you’ll be skinned alive by tomorrow morning. A man deserves one afternoon of paradise before going to the grave.” With that, the ghost lurched to his feet unsteadily. “Pardon me for departing so soon but I have an errand that must be completed before dawn.”

“Inkfinger,” Tetsu cautioned, feeling as if something were amiss in the dead scholar’s voice, “don’t overextend yourself.”

The ghost paused at the door for a moment. “Worry about yourself. At least I have a proper plan. Oh, by the way, you look uglier clean shaven.”

Tetsu chuckled at Inkfinger’s back before the door closed. Quietly, he prayed the ghostly scholar wasn’t about to do anything rash. Unable to prevent whatever he was planning, however, the wanderer lay back down in his corner of the room and eventually fell asleep.

#

Shining Feather was struck by how ugly Tetsu was in the daylight as the false Dragonblood stepped out of the inn followed closely by Kano, the boy in women’s clothing. Tetsu was in fact so ugly that Feather wondered if eating utensils screamed when the man brought them to his face. It was particularly striking since the man possessed other features that were particularly striking, such as his great height and barely restrained muscularity. Fate had, however, chosen for him to look like a monster rather than a hero. Picking up his roll of sticks, Feather resumed his role of old woodsman as he followed his two marks, close enough to listen but far enough away not to be noticed.

“I don’t know why you need me,” Kano grumbled, trying to make his voice higher pitched but only managing to sound like a warbling teenager.

“Quit your grumbling,” Tetsu snapped, “you’re only coming along with me as a favour to Menji, it’s only a matter of time before Low Town turns into a battlefield. Sun knows why the old fart cares for you so much.”

Kano bit his lip. Feather made a mental note that there may be a deeper connection between the boy and his supposed employer but filed the information away for later. It wasn’t until they reached the bridge that spanned the wide river to connect the town with the road eastward that they spoke again. “So… where are we going?” Kano asked. “Red Wolf’s is the other way, up the mountains.”

“I know that,” Tetsu admonished, “there’s something I have to see first.”

Feather turned south while Tetsu and Kano turned north after crossing the bridge and walked until they were out of sight before leaping into the trees and doubling back after them. The Sidereal caught sight of their probable destination ahead just as he caught up with them, a sight that distracted him enough that he almost fumbled his last jump. Kano walked nervously behind Tetsu as they approached the small stone building ahead, leaving an ever greater distance between himself and the fake Dragonblood. Tetsu finally stopped at a wooden arch that marked the edge of the clearing around the high stone walls that surrounded the building.

Mere feet away from Tetsu, the grass that grew along the sides of the road withered away into tufts of brown, dry, fronds before disappearing altogether. The moist, rich, earth became grey and lifeless. Trees became blackened, twisted and gnarled though most lay hollow on the ground. The inscription over the locked and barred gate read simply ‘Shanku Toyo Graveyard’, probably in reference to an ancient township that might have existed where River’s Bend now stood in some bygone era. From his perch, Feather could see that the temple beyond the walls was ancient and crumbling. Freshly dug graves lay close to the gate, a testament to the casualty rate in River’s Bend and the carelessness with which the townsfolk buried their dead.

Tetsu knelt, staring intently at the gate without crossing the ten feet. Feather considered the moral to be brave just to risk standing that close. Following his gaze, the Sidereal noticed the same thing Tetsu must have seen. Someone had salted the path and the area around the gate, probably the last time someone had needed to be buried. Someone else had come since and swept the path clean, however. The false Dragonblood picked up a pinch of the white grit and brought it to his lips, probably to confirm his suspicions. Standing, Tetsu spat into the bushes before stalking away, walking fast without running.

The implications worried Shining Feather, his brain working as he followed them back into town, ducking into an alley to assume a disguise as a peddler before resuming his persuit. The state of the graveyard meant that things were much more dire in River’s Bend than they appeared. Someone disturbing the salt meant to ward away the undead that might rise from their graves was even more troublesome, even frightening. More curiously, Feather wondered, what had led Tetsu to investigate the graveyard in the first place?

Another piece of the puzzle had fallen into position and Feather didn’t like the picture that was starting to form.

#

Tetsu could feel his frown beginning to etch itself permanently into his face as they approached Red Wolf’s mansion a good half hour after fleeing from the graveyard. He no longer had any doubts that someone else was helping Inkfinger, someone the scholar didn’t see fit to mention. More confusing was the fact that in a town like River’s Bend, the ghosts of all those done in by foul play didn’t pour through the gates to take vengeance on the living. He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the guard blocking his way until he bumped into the man’s spear.

“I said halt,” the guard, a different one than from the day before, commanded. His face was bandaged so that only his eyes and mouth were showing. His partner looked bored, examining his nails.

Grabbing the spear, Tetsu used it to pull the guard off balance, stumbling towards him and into range. The guard’s nose gave a satisfying crunch as Tetsu crushed it with his forehead, knocking the man to the ground. Kano jumped back, swearing frightened oaths as the injured guard started screaming in agony. The other guard stared as if Tetsu was some sort of hallucination, blinking as if to clear some grit out of the corner of his eye. Confident of his ability to deal with any one of Red Wolf’s guards either alone or in pairs, Tetsu scowled at the man that was still standing. “Red Wolf is expecting me,” he said simply. The guard stared at him blankly for a while before nodding his head.

Tetsu felt smug as he approached the mansion with Kano scrambling behind. “W-what was that?” Kano squeaked the question, obviously panicked.

“Establishing a pecking order,” Tetsu informed, shrugging his broad shoulders, “violence is the language they understand. Riverspeak for thugs.”

“Aren’t you scared they’ll all gang up on you?” Kano asked as they both kicked off their shoes before entering the foyer.

“Nah. Pack animals know if they get wounded, the others will eat them instead,” Tetsu said, sniffing in disgust. The gamblers were back, paying too much attention to the dice to notice that Tetsu had returned, though they most likely would never associate the clean Dragon Lord with the grubby wanderer that had been in the day before. One of the servants minced over to them, bowing profusely. “Honourable Dragon Lord, Master Red Wolf humbly requests your presence upstairs.”

Nodding, Tetsu couldn’t help but be impressed with the man’s obsequious grovelling as he followed him up to the first floor. Passing through several screen doors, each opened and closed for them, Tetsu and Kano found Red Wolf admiring the view over the valley, attended closely by the ever silent Mamo. “Tetsu, my friend,” the enlightened martial artist greeted warmly, “please, sit.”

“Thank you,” Tetsu said as he sat, laying the Daiklave down next to him. “You didn’t leave orders with the guards at the front gate. I had to wound one.”

Red Wolf shrugged. “They’re stupid but cheap. I assume you’re here because White Crane couldn’t match my offer?”

“Correct. Does the offer still stand?”

“It’d seem petty of me to hire you for less now, wouldn’t it?” Red Wolf asked rhetorically, smirking. “Besides, with you on my side this will all be over by tomorrow morning.”

“So you plan to attack tonight, huh?” Tetsu questioned, scratching the small amount of stubble that had grown on his chin overnight.

“Indeed,” Red Wolf answered, taking a sip of some green tea that Mamo held out for him. “Hello, Kano. How is your father?”

Kano bowed, keeping his eyes down. “Cranky as ever, sir.”

Tetsu snorted. “Menji’s your father? That explains a few things.”

“You don’t seem to be the type that would become enamoured of a whore like Kano,” Red Wolf observed, “why bring him?”

“Didn’t,” Tetsu muttered, shrugging. “Menji kicked him out, probably because he thinks Low Town’s about to become a warzone. I’d take it as a favour if you’d let him serve me during my stay here.”

Red Wolf chuckled. “Why not? It’s been far too long hasn’t it, Kano?”

“Five or six years, sir,” Kano said tonelessly without looking up.

“Oh, have you met Mamo?” Red Wolf inquired, still smirking. “I acquired him right after you left, if I remember correctly.”

“We’ve met,” Kano admitted, “once.”

“Oh, good, I hate repeating formal introductions. So, Tetsu, how is my old friend White Crane?”

“Confident,” Tetsu said. “His position with Sanejin makes him bold. He also claims to have some sort of secret weapon.”

Red Wolf snorted. “Of course he does. How did he react when he discovered that you wouldn’t be fighting alongside him?”

“Typically unimaginative, first with threats, then he tried to bribe me to turn traitor like you suggested. I had to impress on him that giving me a reason to do your job for you without pay was a bad idea. Then I explained patiently that stabbing people in the back is bad business sense, especially when those people have contacts in the Guild.”

Nodding gravely, Red Wolf sighed in a half-hearted attempt at theatrics. “White Crane was a competent partner and a worthy adversary. Some people just can’t help spoiling a good thing by grasping for more.”

“Heh,” Tetsu chuckled, shaking his head. “That joke was terrible. Your mood’s too serious today, what’s gone wrong?”

“White Crane has been fortifying his Dojo all night, gathering every able bodied man and pressing them into service under the threat of the Water of Eternal Perfection. Someone knocked over a lantern and started a small fire but it was doused before it got out of control. They’ll be prepared for an attack.”

“You’ve got spies watching the dojo,” Tetsu nodded, “good. I assume you had spies watching me as well?”

Red Wolf smirked. “One of them is sitting next to you.”

Tetsu glanced at Kano who didn’t even twitch. “Everything Tetsu has told you is the truth, Master,” Kano lied smoothly. The wanderer breathed an inward sigh of relief.

“Good to know that there are still honest men to be found, even in this town,” Red Wolf complimented.

“So what’s the plan?” Tetsu asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

“I have men hiding in the mountains. They’ll approach the White Crane dojo from the south while we attack from the north, smoke them out if we have to. Maybe I won’t even have to call out my secret weapon. One on one, White Crane’s men have the edge in training and discipline. We rely on numbers, only engaging small groups.”

“Assuming they all scatter themselves around nicely for us,” Tetsu murmured.

“Well, that’s why I’ve hired you to break the stalemate,” Red Wolf explained, grinning. “I’m counting on our abilities to neutralize White Crane as quickly as possible. No gloating, no revenge speeches, no prisoners. I’ve set aside a room for you to stay in. Please take advantage of the time you have to rest and prepare, we attack tonight.”

#

Sitting cross-legged on the roof above, Shining Feather listened as Tetsu and Kano closed the door behind them. Red Wolf seemed to take his own advice, sipping tea without speaking as he stared out over the valley below, keeping further council to the halls of his own mind. Absently, Feather wished he could read minds the way he could read the threads of Fate, just for the sake of convenience. Probably for the best, Feather mused to himself, my brain’s cluttered enough with my own thoughts.

Considering the situation, Feather couldn’t help but feel like the guest that had arrived late to the party and missed the joke everyone was twittering at. Red Wolf and White Crane were relatively easy to understand, organizations like theirs provided local muscle to organizations all over Creation. A remote mining town on the edge between the Hundred Kindoms and the Realm was their natural breeding ground. Sanejin, a local god playing fast and loose with the rules and getting stuck between the major players was also an eighth-bit a dozen. The one person that Feather couldn’t fathom was Tetsu, a mortal posing as a wandering Outcaste, a smooth talker with great strength intent on playing all the other sides against themselves.

There was no doubt in Feather’s mind that Tetsu was the odd one out in the equation. He was also remarkable in his seeming disregard for his own safety. Either the man was suicidal or thought he had some kind of divine protection. It was the second possibility that worried the Chosen of Serenity in that it might possibly be true. If that was the case, which would explain much about the situation Feather found himself in, then it was probable that Tetsu was the pawn of the real enemy, whether he knew it himself or not.

The Sidereal’s thoughts were interrupted when the door opened below to allow a heavily breathing man entry. Feather leant over the edge of the roof to peek inside the room in time to see Red Wolf accept a message from a grovelling servant that looked as if the hounds of Malfeas had chased him into the room. Red Wolf quickly unbound the letter and held it up for inspection as if the servant’s state of duress were a casual occurrence, though Feather silently thanked whatever small god was responsible that he was in a position to read the letter over the enlightened mortal’s shoulder. He was particularly grateful when Red Wolf set the letter alight with the small oil burner that was keeping his pot of herbal tea warm before dropping it into a ceramic bowl.

“Dismissed,” Red Wolf said, waving away the servant with a flick of his wrist. Once the servant was gone, he turned to Mamo. “Love, I’m expecting visitors. Please make the proper arrangements.”

Mamo bowed without a word and left swiftly. Feather frowned as he pulled himself back up onto the roof slowly and quietly before he was seen. The contents of the letter changed everything… again! Cursing as he stood, Feather glared up at the mountain and the glowing orb of the Daystar high in the sky above it.

Pawns are just pawns, Feather concluded, whatever the enemy’s intention is, their plan can be thwarted by removing the pieces from the game. Callous as it may seem, eliminating these mortal’s strands of fate can only help untangle the knot in the Loom.

With that thought, Feather leapt into the trees again, running with all speed to find his partner. They had much to prepare for and time was running short.

#

Deeper into the mountains south of River’s Bend, a Raiton’s call was answered by the warning note of a Stryx. Satisfied, the warrior moved the boulder that was concealing the mouth of their cave away to allow his returning scholarly compatriot inside, moving it back into place behind them.

“Where is she?” The yellow-robed scholar asked, glancing at the empty beds of the makeshift camp.

“Taking a bath,” the warrior answered with a shrug, “we found some hot springs deeper in. What did you discover?”

The scholar took a seat before speaking, wringing his hands. “We can’t take her into town. The stench of evil is palpable all around the place and I’ve seen slave pens with better living conditions. On top of that, the local god is running a brothel for the rich and powerful out of his temple on top of the mountain, including Dragonbloods.”

The warrior frowned. “Greyfalls shouldn’t reach this far southwest.”

“Technically, this is a border region,” the scholar informed, “nobody cares enough about River’s Bend to press the territorial issue and the local god plays all sides. Politics gets a bit nebulous out here.”

Nodding, the warrior poured his companion a cup of water and handed it to him. “I’ll take our little princess east to take refuge with the Silver Pact, then. Will you be all right on your own for a bit?”

“We’re too close to delay any further,” the scholar agreed, “I can feel it.”

Chapter 8

When Tetsu opened his eyes, he discovered that the sun was lowering itself below the ridge of the mountains to the west. An empty Sake bottle lay on a tray next to him as he sat on the straw mat floor in a back room of Red Wolf’s mansion. The Daiklave sat next to him, the handle in easy reach. Everything seemed quiet and still except for the breeze outside and the distant trickle of water. Far too quiet and still, he observed. Kano was nowhere to be seen.

Standing, he picked up the Cathak Markul’s Daiklave and rested it across his shoulder before thrusting open the sliding door to the room. He was greeted by the sight of a dozen of Red Wolf’s ruffians staring silently back at him, swords still sheathed at their hips. “So? Is it time to attack yet?” Tetsu asked testily.

The men continued to stare, silently at the ready.

Glancing at each of their faces, noting that more had covered the hallways, Tetsu scowled. “Where’s Kano?”

Again, they didn’t answer. Tetsu stepped forward slowly to gage their reaction but they merely retreated a step, cautiously maintaining the space between them just out of reach of the Daiklave. Moving slowly forward, Tetsu kept the alarm off his face as Red Wolf’s men backed away while others moved in behind him, flowing around him as if he were at the centre of a bubble in a pond. A quick stamp of his foot caused them all to jump and grasp the hilts of their swords but no-one drew. Smirking, Tetsu walked towards the light coming from the central pagoda as the sky darkened overhead.

Red Wolf’s men waited at the bridge while Tetsu crossed. There was no need for them to follow so closely when they could all rush across and mob him at any time. Tetsu tried to keep his knees from shaking as he walked, the boards of the bridge creaking underfoot. As he crested the low rise and was able to see what was happening inside the pagoda, his stomach sank to the soles of his feet.

Kano was whimpering where Bonzo held him on his knees, the short sword that had killed Scholar Yun pressed against the prostitute’s throat. Thirteen members of the White Crane Dojo stood along the walls of the Pagoda, standing at attention. Unlike the ones he had fought before, these looked to be some of White Crane’s most skilled disciples. In the centre of the Pagoda, Red Wolf and White Crane sat next to each other at the low table facing Tetsu. The former sipped green tea while the latter hadn’t touched the Sake before him. Mamo sat behind Red Wolf, head bowed like a good handmaid.

Tetsu’s mind raced furiously as he stepped into the room, automatic adherence to his Outcaste Dragon Lord persona putting a casual smirk on his face. “So, I take it White Crane’s already won and we’ve capitulated?” He asked Red Wolf flippantly. The enlightened master’s retort was a hurled cup of scalding green tea that Tetsu narrowly avoided by tilting his head. The ceramic cup shattered against the doorframe behind him and Tetsu absently noted that either Red Wolf had intended to miss or thrown weapons weren’t his specialty.

“Now is not the time for jokes,” Red Wolf said seriously, placing his now empty hands in his lap. “You’re surrounded, we have your friend hostage and I don’t think you can defeat the two of us, even with that toy of yours.”

“I thought you said this wasn’t the time for jokes?” Tetsu asked, chuckling. Bravado had worked so far, he figured, why stop now? “Seriously, what do you think you’re doing cornering me here? I thought the two of you were smart enough to finish whatever charade you were pulling before stabbing me in the back.”

White Crane’s eyes narrowed. “You’re bluffing,” he accused. “There’s no way you knew that we were still working together!”

“Eh, some of the idiots you hired messed up,” Tetsu answered, wiggling his finger in his ear as if trying to dislodge a bothersome piece of wax. “I recognized the guy guarding the gate this morning as the guy whose nose I’d crushed when Bonzo killed the Scholar the other day. They’ve been trading duties behind your back.”

Mamo produced a pipe at an obscure signal from Red Wolf and lit the tobacco inside before handing it to him. He took a puff on it before speaking. “I see; we were a little careless too. You must have known, however, that we’d see right through you since we were sharing information. Why stay?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know what game you were playing,” Tetsu shrugged. “I’m not sure what you stand to gain by such an elaborate farce. Figured I’d sit back and see where the chips fell. Besides, both of you hired me to kill the other one. Just because you’re working together doesn’t mean the deal’s not still on the table.”

It was subtle but Tetsu noticed the slight shift in both of their sitting positions. They might be working together but trust was still an issue between them. It reminded Tetsu of an old saying, absence makes the heart suspicious. He knew if it came to blows both he and Kano were dead.

“I trust White Crane with my life,” Red Wolf lied convincingly. “I demand to know who you’re working for.”

Tetsu smirked. “Haven’t you guessed already? I’m a spy for the Immaculate Order.”

There was a moment of perfect silence as the wind whistled through the trees outside.

#

Feather and Rage turned to look at each other, hovering over a piece of paper that showed a perfect picture of the inside of the Pagoda, watching the whole proceedings. It was a useful charm Feather had created himself for such occasions that linked the fate of two pieces of paper together, allowing both light and sound to transfer from one to the other.

“Immaculates?” Rage asked his partner.

“I didn’t think the Immaculates would reach this far,” Feather said, gnawing his lower lip, “maybe it’s a move by Oversight to take control of the situation.”

#

Tetsu threw his head back and laughed. “Just kidding! Oh, the look on your faces…”

Somewhere in the distance, out of sight and mind, two Sidereals slapped themselves on the forehead.

Red Wolf leapt to his feet, purple-faced. “This isn’t a laughing matter,” he shouted, snapping his pipe in two.

“Partner,” White Crane said, raising his voice, “don’t let him goad you into something rash. Tetsu, you know that I have no qualms about ordering the death of your friend, Kano, here.”

“The same way you ordered the death of Scholar Yun?” Tetsu inquired.

White Crane blinked. “Who’s Scholar Yun?”

“Oh, I see,” Tetsu mused, scratching his chin, “Bonzo didn’t tell you that we met while he was killing a Scholar from Greyfalls? Interesting.”

“Bonzo?” White Crane asked.

“He’s lying,” Bonzo spat. “He heard about the ghost that’s been harassing me and he’s fabricating something to save his own hide!”

Tetsu raised his eyebrows. “And he denies it? Very interesting. I saw Bonzo kill a Scholar from Greyfalls with that very blade the day I walked into town. If you don’t believe me, ask the guard whose nose I broke again this morning.”

“You’re trying to evade my partner’s question,” White Crane observed. “Bonzo’s poor judgement in victims has no bearing on the situation.”

“Very well,” Tetsu shrugged, trying to come up with something fast, “I work for Greyfalls. Your public spat’s been bad for business, making both the Guild and Greyfalls nervous. I was asked to resolve the matter one way or the other.”

There was a long pause before White Crane spoke. “Do we believe him, partner?”

Red Wolf sank back into his seat and scratched his chin, casually tossing his broken pipe onto the table to smoulder. “It’s possible.”

“All right, I told you my line, you tell me yours, why are you two pretending you’re fighting each other? Simple embezzlement seems rather stupid.”

White Crane gave Red Wolf a curt nod. “We’re not embezzling,” Red Wolf admitted, scowling. “We’re trying not to appear too strong.”

Tetsu blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The White Crane Dojo controls the town, the mines and legal trade,” Red Wolf explained, “the Red Wolf Dojo controls the Lotus plantations, slaves and flow of black market goods. The Guild cannot abide any other organization having such a level of control. The merchants plotted to split us apart but rather than foil the plan, we went along with it to maintain the status quo. We pretended to be in competition with each other and lowered our commission. Since then, trade volume has increased so that we now earn more than we ever did. Occasionally we stage raids and fights or pay off a desperate merchant to lose a worthless cargo to keep up appearances.”

“Of course,” White Crane murmured, “now that you know all of that, we can’t let you live.”

“Tisk,” Tetsu admonished, shaking his head. “We all know that if you attempt to kill me I might die but if I do I’ll certainly kill most of your retainers or maybe even the two of you. Besides, I couldn’t care less who runs this town as long as my superiors get what they want. We can end this without bloodshed.”

#

“Are you sure he’s not really a Dragonblood?” Rage asked.

Feather nodded. “If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I’d be doubting it right now. He’s no Godblood and he’s not enlightened either; just very, very, cunning.”

“Shall we start then?”

“Not yet, I want to see how it plays out.”

#

The big problem as Tetsu saw it was getting Kano away from Bonzo. He lifted the Daiklave off his shoulder and drove it into the floor point first, piercing both the straw mat and the boards underneath. Resting his hand on the hilt, he continued his oratory. “I’d also like to point out that if I don’t report back to my superiors other Dragon Lords will come asking questions. Even if you survive, you won’t last the month. Let us continue our negotiations in good faith, there’s no need for hostages.”

“Kano lied to me,” Red Wolf muttered, “I demand his life as forfeit.”

“If Kano hadn’t lied for me, I would have strangled you and handed the keys to the town over to White Crane,” Tetsu lied. “Besides, I’ve grown used to him. How much would you sell him for?”

It seemed to Tetsu that Red Wolf’s ears pricked up like his namesake’s at the mention of money. “What would you pay? He’s a good lad with excellent skills…”

“He’s a no-good layabout who’s ‘excellent skills’ can’t get him a date in a town full of desperate men,” Tetsu countered. “Six Dinars.”

“Twelve,” Red Wolf bargained. “Not an ounce less.”

“Nine,” Tetsu answered.

Red Wolf waved his hand. “Bonzo, kill him.”

“All right!” Tetsu interrupted Bonzo a moment before the tip pierced Kano’s shivering neck. “Twelve it is, you thief, but only because I don’t need to watch another man die.” Tetsu threw the silver onto the floor and breathed a sigh of relief when Bonzo let Kano scramble to the opposite corner of the eight-sided Pagoda past Tetsu’s bare feet. At Red Wolf’s command, Bonzo picked up the coins and placed them on the desk for Red Wolf to pocket in the sleeve of his robe.

“Now that our business is over with,” Red Wolf continued, “let’s assume that you’re not bluffing. What is it that you’re proposing, exactly?”

“Don’t you think it’s strange that in a powder keg like this town, it seems like someone keeps lighting fires?” Tetsu asked seriously. “It’s almost like someone wants this place to explode. Have either of you ever felt that?”

Red Wolf and White Crane glanced at each other. “You’re suggesting a conspiracy?” White Crane asked.

“Indeed. I don’t know who’s behind him but I know who really attempted to set you at each other’s throats and then made it look like the Guild was responsible when his plan failed. It’s the same man who’s been selling you out to Sanejin and disturbing the salt ring around the graveyard, hoping that a horde of hungry ghosts would devour the town. It is in fact the same man who knew full well that the two of you were still working together yet exaggerated reports of your animosity to the Guild. I rather think that murdering a Scholar from Greyfalls right in front of me was a stroke of luck rather than planning, however… right, Bonzo?”

#

“But… but… that’s all a lie, right?” Rage asked his partner. “It makes sense but it’s a complete and utter fib, right?”

“A total fabrication,” Feather confirmed, admiration clear in his voice.

#

Tetsu couldn’t help but feel smug as Red Wolf and White Crane turned to glare at Bonzo, who was suddenly pasty white.

“B-but…” Bonzo stammered, unable to form words without blood in his brain.

“Don’t try to lie, Bonzo,” Tetsu rebuked. “I saw your tracks in the salt at the graveyard only the stunt backfired since it merely unleashed the hungry ghost of the man YOU killed! You hoped to unite the White Crane and Red Wolf dojos under your own banner and usurp control of the militia here in River’s Bend. Scholar Yun was killed to force me to act against Red Wolf and White Crane.”

White Crane stood with the perfect grace of one of the enlightened and grabbed the collar of Bonzo’s robe.

“I-I didn’t!” Bonzo protested in a squeaky voice.

“YOU were the one who discovered the Guild’s plot to frame me!” White Crane accused. “I see it all now; you were right under my nose this whole time! It was Sanejin, wasn’t it! He put you up to this! That petty Little God has had it in for us ever since we stole his little town from him!”

It came as a surprise to Tetsu when Bonzo gave his master a hopelessly guilty look. So he HAS been ratting to Sanejin, Tetsu concluded. He filed the information away for future reference and pulled his Daiklave out of the floor. “Well, then, if the two of you don’t mind I have a report to write.”

“WAIT!” Red Wolf ordered, glaring at Tetsu. Tetsu paused in mid-stride, slowly turning so that his knees didn’t suddenly give out. Red Wolf stepped around the table and walked slowly towards Tetsu, only stopping when they were at arm’s length.

“Here,” the enlightened master said, fishing Tetsu’s money out from the sleeve of his robe. “You’ve done us a great service revealing the real traitor in our ranks. I’ve suspected Bonzo for a long time but your evidence confirms my suspicions. Take your slave and journey safely.”

#

“What evidence?!?” Rage exclaimed. “He didn’t produce anything!”

“All he needed to do was link the hungry ghost attacks, the betrayal by the guild and hint at a link to their common enemy, Sanejin, to come up with on their own,” Feather explained, wonder in his voice, “and top it off with the threat of death, either by his own hands or at the hands of the Dragon Lords of Greyfalls ready to avenge him. Wolf and Crane want to believe him, he’s just handed them a reprieve from the spectre of death and someone to blame their misfortunes on. Also, his delivery was worthy of the courts of Yu Shan. And remember, they really do think he’s a Dragon Lord, a Prince of the Earth, a true god amongst mortals. Probably also helps that they think he’s too big and ugly to lie to them that well. Truly a feat worthy of legend, remind me to compose a sonnet.”

#

I’m going to live.

Those four little words ran through Tetsu’s mind over and over as he accepted the coins with a smile. “I will let all of Greyfalls know of the generosity of Red Wolf and White Crane. Kano, come, we’ll drop in to see your father before we depart for Greyfalls.”

Kano scrambled out from his corner and took his place behind Tetsu as he strode heroically to the door of the Pagoda. At the threshold, he turned with a theatrical flourish, careful not to hit Kano with the flat of the Daiklave. White Crane pushed Bonzo toward his guards, who restrained the Undersheriff expertly. Facing Tetsu, the two enlightened masters bowed in respect. Still smiling, Tetsu returned the gesture. Feeling impish, he waved to Bonzo. “Good luck, Bonzo. I doubt we’ll be seeing each other again… or maybe I will, at Sanejin’s!”

Tetsu chuckled, his elation coursing though his body like a drug. He’d won, he’d completely bamboozled them. He and Kano were going to walk away and never come back. He’d tell the Immaculate Order everything that was going on and they’d raze the hateful town to the ground and burn away the taint. He couldn’t help it when his chuckle became a laugh, the feeling of raw power surging through his muscles, veins and limbs. He felt lighter than air, as if he could do anything as long as he put his mind to it. He was so busy laughing in his euphoria that he didn’t notice the yellow glow around him as a golden symbol faded into existence on his forehead, a disc enclosed in a circle. When he finally opened his eyes again, he only had a moment to wonder why everyone was staring at him, bubble-eyed like fish.

“ANATHEMA!!!”

#

“ANATHEMA!!!” Rage and Feather screamed in unison along with the image of Red Wolf, White Crane, Bonzo and the militia of both dojos. The word ‘panic’ was not sufficient to describe the adrenaline-fuelled pounding in their chests. Pandemonium reigned as everyone drew their swords, screaming at the tops of their lungs.

It was Anathema, the enemy, devils wearing human skin that brought Creation to its knees through their madness. The Sidereals knew them by another name: The Solar Exalted, former masters of all, deposed by the Bronze Faction after they went insane at the end of the First Age. The shining host, graced above all by the Unconquered Sun himself, destroyers of the ancient and terrible Primordials, their number a mere three hundred souls. Yet one Solar could slay a host of Demons alone and unaided, perhaps even with his bare hands.

All and none of these facts boiled into the minds of those watching as Tetsu turned to look behind him. “Anathema?!? Where!” He shouted in surprise only to find a horrified Kano staring at his face, lit by a bright yellow light. Lifting his hand, the false Dragon Lord touched the mark on his forehead, noticing the golden light on his palm. As realization struck him, he muttered the first oath that came to mind.

“Oh, shit.”

Feather grabbed his partner by the neck and practically hurled him down the slope toward Red Wolf’s mansion. “GO! NOW!” To his credit, Rage hesitated for only a moment before leaping off, a sudden fire burning in his eyes. Reaching into his robe, Feather pulled the prayer strip he’d prepared and tried to subsume his rising panic as he muttered the sutra of the spell. Shouting out the climax of the incantation, Feather slapped the burning prayer strip onto the bare earth before him, the mountain shuddering as if the slap had shaken it down to be bedrock.

The earth split open at Feather’s feet, swallowing the prayer strip as it was consumed by green flame. Rocks and dirt broke away from the mountainside, tumbling down cliffs toward the bright red building below. Trees whipped around him as the mountain convulsed, clouds of dust billowing as the landslide began its terrible descent.

#

Tetsu felt the presence of White Crane’s disciple behind him with a kind of sixth sense that he’d never experienced before. His hand moved reflexively, gripping his Daiklave as he span, whipping the blade around in a wide arc as if it were as light as a feather. Blood sprayed across his face as the man’s head was severed from his body, a look of surprise frozen on his face. The new Solar didn’t even notice that his blow had passed through the wall of a Pagoda, including two of the supporting columns, until the wall collapsed, pulling the tower over as it toppled towards them and the group of militia that skidded to a halt halfway across the bridge, halting their charge. The tower groaned before deciding to topple over in earnest.

Grabbing Kano, Tetsu jumped into the shallow pond and ran as best he could through knee-deep water. The prostitute screamed like a little girl as the tower crushed half of Red Wolf’s mansion underneath it, throwing dust and debris into the air that rained down all around them. In moments, fire flickered from the ruins, scattered candles and toppled lanterns setting paper walls and wooden beams ablaze.

“ANATHEMA!!!”

Turning around to see where the new battlecry was coming from, Tetsu saw several of Red Wolf’s hired thugs leap into the water from the side opposite to where the Pagoda had fallen. Tetsu used his height to his advantage, moving quickly through the water with his longer legs where the shorter men could not. Unfortunately, a few got wise to his advantage and started to run around the pond instead, intent on intercepting him as he got out of the water. He proved to be faster, leaping out of the water just as the militia charged, chopping blades held high overhead.

Dropping Kano, Tetsu sliced through the first three men with a single swipe of his blade, casting both halves of their bodies into the water. The fourth tried to stop himself but his momentum was too great. Tetsu slapped his blade aside and punched him in the face with the Daiklave’s hilt; the unfortunate man span to the ground, spitting blood and teeth.

A moment later, a great booming noise greater than the impact of the Pagoda preceded a ripple in the earth. The militiamen were thrown off their feet as the ground itself roiled. Waves from the pond disgorged fish by the dozen, soaking Tetsu, Kano and anyone else close to the edge. A distant rumble grew steadily louder as fist-sized rocks started to rain from the night sky.

“RUN!” Tetsu yelled, grabbing Kano and hoisting him over his shoulder as he took his own advice, powerful legs pumping as the feral part of his brain took over, screaming at him to flee. The feint screams of the men behind him were quickly drowned out by the rumble of stones tumbling down the mountain. Larger boulders thudded into the earth ahead, some felling the ornamental trees of Red Wolf’s garden. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a wall of rock hit the fallen Pagoda like a wave against a ship, picking the felled structure up and dashing it against the ground, dousing the flames as well like a hand from Heaven. A blast of air and dust hurled Tetsu off his feet and through a rice paper door with Kano still over his shoulder as they tumbled across a stone floor.

Rolling to one side of the door as the wave of earth hit the building, Tetsu pulled Kano out of the way before they were crushed. Thick wooden beams bent and buckled all around them under the assault, rice paper doors shredded in moments. A boulder ripped off the roof above their heads as it arced out over the cliff, probably destined to impact somewhere in Low Town. The wave slowed as it engulfed the building, finally losing momentum. Finally it surged to a halt, though small rocks still bounced and rattled across from the remains of the roof and walls.

A cloud of brown dust obscured vision in all directions in the silence that followed, making it hard to breathe. “Don’t open your eyes,” Tetsu warned, Kano huddled against his chest. Tetsu noted that the dust didn’t irritate his eyes the way it ought to and stood, trying to peer through the muddy fog. We were lucky, Tetsu realized when he noticed pieces of the Pagoda mixed in with dirt and splinters, the rest of the mansion took the brunt of the landslide. For the second time that night, he felt like the luckiest man alive. The feeling dropped away as the ground lurched with a crack that echoed down the valley.

Later, Tetsu would note that Red Wolf’s mansion had sat on a giant plate of bedrock. The impact of the Pagoda had shattered it along a fault line that followed along the line of the cliff several yards away. The added weight of the dirt and rock displaced to the edge caused it to break away and slide down the mountainside like a raft on a tsunami, slowly at first yet steadily gaining speed. After the sudden lurching sensation and crack of the titanic rock splitting, loose gravel began to roll over the edge of the cliff as the floor shifted, creating a second miniature landslide just before the bedrock itself began its descent.

“Hold on!” Tetsu ordered, picking Kano up with his left hand hand, his Daiklave still held tightly in his right fist, and forced him to wrap his arms around a sturdy pillar that had once supported the roof and now stuck up into the air like a mast.

“ANATHEMA!”

Tetsu blinked, wondering if he was imagining the same battle cry as before. Looking up, he saw a shadow in the dust as it settled despite the new disturbance, the movement of the smaller stones seeming to drag the dust along with it. Sudden wind whipped at the figure’s clothing, long white hair flowing like silk. His robes were dripping brown dust the same as Tetsu’s, though the figure wore white to Tetsu’s green.

White Crane beckoned Tetsu, blood dripping from the side of his head. His sleeves and robe were torn and dirty, spots of blood visible in several places. Even though the ground lurched and heaved, the enlightened master retained his balance. “Anathema,” White Crane addressed him in a voice loud enough to carry over the groans of the earth, “I am here to tear your blasphemous lips from your face!”

#

Feather stood atop an ancient tree that was still waving in the air like a sapling in a gale. The movement would have dislodged any normal man and sent them hurtling through the air like a stone from a catapult but for one of the Exalted, such a feat was meaningless. Watching as White Crane approached Tetsu in the distance, he scanned the devastation for signs of his partner.

Most of the militia were dead, buried under tons of rock and earth. Some had been torn apart and crushed by falling rocks. Only a handful of them still moved near the edges of the landslide, those fast enough and smart enough to run to one side to avoid the cascade. Even many of those hadn’t reacted quickly enough.

He was about to say a prayer for the dead when a flash of red caught his eye in the treeline. It wasn’t Rage, however. Red Wolf paused for a moment against a tree, gasping for breath and coughing up dust before stumbling into the darkness after taking one last look back at the ruins of everything he’d built. Feather could see even at that distance, as brief as that glimpse had been, that Red Wolf’s face was covered in blood. A moment later, the enlightened mortal stumbled into the darkness of the woods.

The Sidereal turned his attention back to Tetsu and White Crane as they squared off, the ground they were standing on slowly slipping down the mountainside.

#

Dirt and gravel poured around Tetsu’s feet like water as he slid carefully down the slope of the moving platform. He kept one eye on White Crane, who stood as still as a rock in a stream, while the other measured his distance from Kano. He stopped once the male prostitute was well outside the reach of his Daiklave and turned his full attention to the enemy before him. He turned the tip of the Daiklave to point low behind him as he took one step forward, concealing the true length of the blade as well as his intention, his right hand high up the hilt with the left resting on the pommel. The bedrock plate they were standing on suddenly shifted, slamming into the slope and spraying a cloud of dust that engulfed the platform.

Tetsu moved, guided by his new sixth sense despite lack of sight. Grasping with his left hand, he swept the blade into a horizontal arc that blew the dust away with its sheer power. White Crane, however mortal, was not a foe to be underestimated. As the white-robed figure burst from the cloud of dust, his hand tapped the flat of the Daiklave at the apex of its slash, launching himself into a backflip high overhead. Tetsu looked up as his blade swung wide, held only by his left hand, leaving him open to the downward hammer blow from the enlightened master’s heel.

Unable to avoid damage completely, Tetsu ducked his head to one side, taking the blow on the solid muscle of his broad shoulder. Crane landed lightly on one foot, a smirk clear on his face. Snarling in rage and pain, the Solar wiped the smirk off his enemy’s face with a punch to his inner thigh using his free right fist, then a second to the chest, forcing Crane to backpedal while Tetsu recovered his stance. Raising both hands over his head, Tetsu grasped the hilt with both hands and took a long step forward as he brought the blade down in a stroke resembling lightning in speed and power.

White Crane casually stepped aside, allowing the blade to embed itself in the stone. The impact caused the platform to bounce, dislodging boulders from the mountain side that tumbled after them in their descent as the earth parted before them like the bow wave of a ship. “Too slow,” Crane commented, unleashing a spinning back kick that Tetsu ducked easily only to switch easily into a scissor kick that took the Solar in the face.

Stumbling backwards, Tetsu barely blocked a high punch, catching it with his upraised arm and answering the blow by slamming the hilt of his Daiklave into Crane’s stomach. Turning the blade, he slashed upward with only one hand, forcing his opponent to cartwheel backward, white silk flashing in the moonlight. Stepping forward, Tetsu grasped the hilt with both hands, delivering a more measured downward slash. Springing lightly to his feet, Tetsu barely had time to gasp in alarm as White Crane reversed his momentum smoothly, leaping under his guard and locking his hands around the hilt of the Daiklave.

For several moments, they struggled to control the blade. Clouds of dust swirled around them as the platform sped down the mountain, lurching wildly as it crushed trees and small unoccupied buildings along the way. Kano screamed as he hung on for dear life, his eyes screwed shut. White Crane was nimble and skilled but Tetsu made up for his relative inexperience with raw strength and stamina. Suddenly, Crane smiled, twisting his hands around using the hilt of the Daiklave to control his opponent. Spinning end over end, Tetsu’s back slammed into the stone, spatters of blood spraying from his mouth. Leaping atop his fallen adversary, White Crane put all of his weight on the flat of Tetsu’s Daiklave, pressing it into his chest and pushing the edge slowly up under the wanderer’s chin. Looking back, Tetsu saw the edge of the platform just behind his head, the mountainside flying by. Both men growled from the strain, seemingly equally matched.

Desperate, Tetsu spat into his enemy’s eye. Crane flinched and Tetsu used the distraction to kick his feet into the man’s already injured stomach, knocking the wind out of him and thrusting him away. Rolling in mid air, White Crane landed on his feet, dust spraying in his wake as he slid several feet backwards, clutching his stomach. Tetsu leapt to his feet, noting with a glance that the platform was rapidly heading towards a rock shelf beyond which was nothing but open air and a long plunge into the river below. Following his gaze, White Crane noticed their mutual problem. They both only had enough time for one last decisive strike. Breathing deeply, trying to remain calm, Tetsu lifted his Daiklave to his shoulder pointing upward, both hands firmly on the hilt. White Crane shifted his low stance before leaping forward with lightning ferocity, his arm pulled back to deliver a straight-hand slash to Tetsu’s throat as the final blow.

Turning slightly, Tetsu let go of the blade with his right hand and caught White Crane’s wrist a mere hair’s breadth before the brutal strike could connect. Simultaneously, he slashed downward with the Daiklave in his left hand, removing Crane’s foot just above the ankle. There was no time to register the look on his enemy’s face as Tetsu twisted Crane’s arm into a lock, turning to rest the enlightened master’s elbow on his shoulder before levering him over the side of the platform and breaking the arm in the process. White Crane’s cadaver tumbled down the mountainside moments later like a boneless sack of meat.

“TETSU!” Kano screamed moments before the platform struck the rock ledge. Its momentum carried it onward, lifting the back end into the air and threatening to catapult them over the cliff.

Tetsu’s body matched the speed of his thought. Pure fear sped the essence flows in his limbs, heightening his abilities to superhuman levels. Spinning, watching the world lurch in slow motion, Tetsu effortlessly ran up the slope of the platform that was rapidly becoming vertical as Kano hung over a hundred foot drop into water. The prostitute’s sweaty hands slipped from the pillar just as Tetsu grabbed him under the crook of his sword-arm, successfully keeping the blade’s cutting edge away from them both. The Solar used his momentum, grasping the pillar to swing up and over the lip of the platform, giving it a kick on the way down to make sure it fell over the edge before landing lightly on his feet.

The impact of the platform sprayed water into the air so high that droplets spattered Tetsu’s back. Kano sank to his knees as the symbol on the wanderer’s forehead slowly faded, plunging them both into darkness broken only by the blue light of the sickle-moon far above.

“Are you all right?” Tetsu asked, his face concealed by shadow but concern evident in his voice. Kano drew breath to reply but never had the chance to form a word.

A flash of red and it was over, leaving a crimson after-image momentarily burned into Kano’s retina. Tetsu saw a streak of red a moment before it happened, lifting his Daiklave up to ward off a blow most immortals couldn’t discern with the naked eye yet the Solar somehow sensed without truly knowing.

Unfortunately, his keen insight didn’t save him.

Tetsu saw blood, his own blood, spray into the air before the pain reached his mind. He felt bones snap and cleave apart along with flesh and muscle. His right hand, the one still holding his Daiklave upright, buzzed painfully. Then the blade, the Daiklave that had once belonged to Cathak Markul, fell into two pieces, the jadesteel blade split neatly in two with the precision of a surgeon’s scapel through flesh.

Focused Rage held his Starmetal Reaper Daiklave, a slender dark blue blade decorated with rubies, at the end of his stroke. He stood perfectly still without a glance at Tetsu, knowing every detail of the injury that he’d just inflicted. Tetsu’s heart thumped for the first time after Rage’s stroke and bloody foam sprayed from the Solar’s lips as he stumbled backward into empty air.

“TETSU! NO!” Kano screamed. He didn’t think, his body moving of its own accord as he grabbed Tetsu’s wrist and allowed himself to be pulled over with him. They fell into darkness, a splash far below signifying their final fate.

Rage sent his Daiklave back to Elsewhere, the blade disappearing in a crimson flash of light. He breathed in the scent of the breeze, noting the odour of disturbed earth with the slight tang of blood.

“You took your time,” Feather observed, scowling as he landed next to his partner.

“Better if it looked like an accident,” Rage sniffed. “Though I’m glad it turned out the way it did. These Solars aren’t everything they’re made out to be, I was expecting more. A shame, really.”

Feather snorted, stepping up to look over the edge, finding nothing to be seen. “He was newly exalted and had no idea what he was really capable of yet. Lucky… and unlucky at the same time,” Feather commented, chewing his lower lip. “Are you sure he’s dead?”

“Please, don’t insult me,” Rage growled. “My cut pierced his lungs and cleaved deeply into his rib cage. I only missed his heart because the Jadesteel threw my aim off a little. He’s bleeding, badly, and he fell into the river. Even if my cut and the fall didn’t kill him, both of which are well capable on their own, he’ll bleed out in minutes.”

Swearing several oaths involving the cursed green sun of Malfeas, Feather paced, fuming at himself for losing sight of the big picture in his panic. “This is a total cluster fuck,” he swore.

Rage shrugged. “What’s the problem? We thinned out the pawns, now we can concentrate on what’s left. Heck, we’ve even gone and killed a Solar! Heck of a notch for my belt, even if it was only a baby one.”

Feather resisted the urge to slap himself in the forehead and instead settled for rubbing his temples to ease his anxiety. “Rage, do you remember who sent us here?”

“I’m not that dumb,” Rage growled, “Mistress Ura, head of the Convocation of Essence Workers. What’s the big deal?”

“And the Convocation of Essence Workers is the pubic face of what faction?”

“Well, the gooool… oh,” Rage said, eyes widening as the full realization of what he’d just done came over him. “Oh. We’re in a lot of trouble aren’t we?”

Shining Feather could only nod mutely, the irony that the two of them were standing on the edge of a cliff not lost on him.

#

Bonzo ran as if the River of All Torments were lapping at his heels, his heart pounding. Though the tremors had stopped, it was as if he could still feel the earth moving under his feet. Panic and the adrenaline that came with it could only push him to a certain point, however, pain wracking every part of his body. Looking back, he saw the cloud of dust that followed the Anathema’s trail of destruction rolling slowly down the mountain.

Not paying attention to where he was going his foot caught on a root that lay concealed by the darkness, causing him to fall flat on his face. Stunned and exhausted, the Undersheriff lay still for a moment as he wondered why the world had stopped moving past in a blur of motion. Rolling over, he decided that further movement was a bad idea and fell limp staring up at the night sky through the branches of the trees above.

“You know,” a deep, unearthly, voice intoned from the shadows, “the irony of the position we find ourselves in is not lost on me.”

Startled, a second wave of adrenaline hit Bonzo’s system, enabling him to scramble backwards a foot across the rocky ground in a scramble of panicked but fairly ineffective motion. The last of his strength ebbed in a moment, tired limbs falling useless despite his desire to escape. Gasping for breath, Bonzo looked up to find a dark figure in scholar’s robes standing in the shadow of a tree, black robes flapping in the breeze. His face was concealed by the darkness, almost as if the ghost were emerging from it.

“You know, Undersheriff,” Inkfinger rasped, “I never imagined that I would get this lucky. My fortunes seem to have turned... you wouldn’t happen to know a good place for a dice game would you?”

The Undersheriff tried to move but his arms and legs simply refused to do more than scrape listlessly in the dirt. “Stay… back…” Bonzo gasped, short of breath.

“Stay back? How about please don’t kill me? Why don’t you threaten me with revenge from beyond the grave? Honestly, I don’t remember being this pathetic when our roles were reversed.”

“I’m… sorry…”

There was a short moment of silence before Inkfinger lifted his head back and gave off a peal of hideous laugher. “Sorry?” The dead scholar asked incredulously. “SORRY? You’re the one lying in the dirt begging for your life and you’re sorry NOW?” The ghost stepped forward into the moonlight, revealing the shrunken, grey, skin of his lipless face as he loomed over his victim. “You don’t get to be sorry,” Inkfinger whispered, “not tonight. Not for the rest of your life.”

“Please,” Bonzo begged, “don’t kill me. White Crane ordered me to… I didn’t have a choice.”

“Liar!” Inkfinger accused, kneeling by Bonzo’s head. “I’m not stupid. Not as stupid as you at least. I know who your real masters are and why you’ve betrayed Creation itself for your own greed but, you know, I don’t really care. I never wanted anything more than a peaceful life with my loving bride by my side. Let me confess something to you, Bonzo, the first night I rose from the dead I really wanted to kill you with all my heart.”

The Undersheriff stared up at the moving corpse above him, eyes wide with tears streaming down his face.

“But then I spent a day in the Underworld. Believe me, Bonzo, it’s the sort of experience that changes you. You might not believe it but the Underworld is a lot like Creation, eerily so really; darker, yes, but not dissimilar. The strong prey on the weak, the cunning eek out their death like a parasite on society and the underclass are the usual zombie-like peons. It was while I was down there, in the true darkness, that I had an epiphany. I hate you, Bonzo. I hate you so much that killing you isn’t enough for me.”

The ghost moved faster than anything living could muster, grasping Bonzo’s throat in one bony hand but only squeezing hard enough to cause him pain. “I’m not going to kill you, Bonzo,” Inkfinger rasped, “I’m going to make you SUFFER.”

Inkfinger forced Bonzo’s head back as the Undersheriff screamed and struggled. Snarling, the ghost shifted so that one leg pinned his victim’s arm while the other rested on Bonzo’s chest, making it harder for him to move. Grave dirt dripped onto Bonzo as Inkfinger leant over him, pulling a bamboo flask out of his sleeve. Bonzo froze at the sight of it, all to familiar with the contents. “Oh, so you do recognize this,” Inkfinger chuckled, swirling the Water of Infinite Perfection for dramatic effect. “I got it from your boss’ room after I lit the fire last night. I guess he didn’t tell anyone that his trump card was missing. There’s not much left, honestly, but just enough I think for one last sip.”

Bonzo tried to clamp his lips together and hold his breath as Inkfinger popped the lid but the bamboo container was thick enough that the ghost was able to slap the opening over the Undersherrif’s mouth, pressing it down hard enough to keep it sealed by the skin. Bony fingers pinched Bonzo’s nose, cutting off his air supply.

The Undersheriff struggled, holding his breath until he was purple in the face and thrashed in a vein effort to knock the flask away. The vengeful ghost laughed as his victim struggled futilely, savouring the moment. Finally, Bonzo’s body betrayed him, forcing a gasp for precious air that sealed his fate.

The dead scholar wasn’t expecting the sudden thrash that almost managed to throw him off Bonzo’s prone form as his body began to change, invigorated by the sudden surge of essence. His screams rose in pitch as his body shrank, flesh softening into graceful curves. Bones crackled as his feet shrank inside his shoes, the sound moving up to his knees before intensifying as his hips ripened. Strong shoulders lost their girth along with his thick waistline as the new woman’s breasts grew out from her chest. Inkfinger licked his naked teeth as her face reformed like clay under a master sculptor’s fingertips, becoming heart-shaped and lovely with full lips, a pert little nose and large, soulful, almond eyes. She lifted her tiny hands in front of her face, watching her nails grow as dark brown hair slithered across the ground behind her head, stretching out from her scalp. She whimpered, unable to fully comprehend the alien sensations of her new form.

“What’s the matter, dear?” Inkfinger mocked. “Missing something?”

Lashing out, the scholar’s head rocked back from the impact of Bonzo’s open-handed slap, rotting flesh tearing away where her nails raked his cheek. She screamed, trying to crawl out from under him but the ghost felt no pain, no regret and no forgiveness. Grabbing her hands, Inkfinger forced them up behind her head, leering as he looked into her eyes with their faces inches apart. A maggot dropped onto her cheek and she flinched as it wriggled, tears flowing freely but too horrified to even scream.

“Now don’t be that way dear,” the ghost sighed theatrically, “why don’t we… kiss and make up?”

Bonzo found her breath, her scream muffled as Inkfinger’s tongue slid into her mouth.

#

The pattern spider rubbed his crystal fangs constantly in agitation as he approached Asra Firstborn. “Mother,” he addressed her, bowing awkwardly in haste, “I regret that the venom has failed! The thread Exalted unexpectedly and something has nullified the poison! Nearly a hundred peripheral threads have been erased so we are making some progress but the Solar’s thread continues to vex us.”

Turning around so that all six wise eyes could view the knot in the loom below, Asra Firstborn could plainly see the glowing golden thread far below them. The knot was smaller now, though still abominably large. Her children were slowly unwinding the tangle of fates and countering the detrimental effects on casualty with practiced ease, however. It was the untidiness of it all that annoyed her. “Exaltation does not inhibit the venom,” Asra explained, dredging up almost forgotten memories of a bygone era, “I sense the hand of the Unconquered Sun in this.”

Her nameless child cocked his head to one side curiously. “I have no memory of him interfering before.”

“You would not,” Asra stated flatly. “It is unlike him. If it is his will, however, then it cannot be thwarted. However, if the Solar’s death can be arranged less directly… my child, I have a message for you to deliver; to the Bureau of Endings.”

In a little village on the edge of the map, heroic Sidereals Focused Rage and Shining Feather probe deeper into the mystery of the Snarl of Fate, infiltrating the luxurious Temple of Eternal Perfection after purging Creation of the villainous Anathma Tetsu.

This preview has been sanctioned by Chejop Kejak.

Fate and the Iron Tiger PART II
An Exalted Tale by Dr. Bender

Chapter 9

There are times when it’s great to be a Sidereal, Shining Feather thought as he spread his arms out wide along the rim of the bath. Masquerading as a wealthy Dragonblood playboy in a manse full of spectacularly beautiful temple prostitutes was one of those times. In a time of stress, the Chosen of Serenity gravitated towards what he was used to: unbridled decadence. It would have been perfect except for the niggling worry in the back of his mind that, despite all appearances, something was very wrong with the place.

The throne room of Sanejin, the Pristine Boyar of Vanity, wasn’t the largest that Feather had ever seen but it certainly ranked as one of the most opulent. The dome above was inlayed with mother of pearl tiles so that there appeared to be a shimmering blue-green sky above. Pale blue-grey tiles depicted the moon in various phases in addition to the crescent-shaped baths that ringed the central audience platform in the centre. Feather had hired one of these most expensive and prestigious private baths especially so that he could watch the comings and goings of Sanejin himself, who made a show of brooding on his throne while one of his girls fed him grapes.

A whole day had passed since the disaster at the mansion and River’s Bend actually seemed more peaceful without White Crane’s thugs patrolling the streets. Red Wolf had fortified himself inside the former White Crane Dojo, seemingly intent on recouping his losses and collecting what forces remained to him. The locals of Old Town had taken it upon themselves to mete out some rough justice on the worst offenders of the old regime, making those that remained paranoid and reclusive. A bigger threat to public order, however, was the small power struggles that broke out amongst the mining gangs, particularly around the local drinking holes. Some of the larger business owners had even started to make their own bids to replace White Crane as Sheriff in the absence of any word from Red Wolf.

High Town was abuzz with the rumour that an Anathema had hurled Red Wolf’s mansion into the river with his bare hands, giving several of the younger Dragonbloods an excuse to form impromptu hunting parties to go gallivanting about in the surrounding wilderness. House guards kept the rabble out of High Town and maintained order in the streets but other than that it was business as usual for the upper class.

Sanejin, however, brooded on his throne, visibly discontent despite the elimination of at least one of his rivals. Feather had considered confronting him directly yet felt that tipping his hand so early before gaining true measure of the god would be a mistake. Despite their small gains, both he and Rage were in dire need of information, so the pair had fallen back into a familiar pattern of spying as they waited for a new opportunity to present itself. Feather kept one eye on Sanejin in plain sight while Rage watched over Red Wolf from the shadows. It was only a matter of time before the true conspirators revealed themselves.

Feather was broken out of his reverie as a slender foot broke the surface of the water next to him, followed by a gloriously shapely leg. He took in every inch of her as she sank down into the bath, from her smooth thighs past her rounded hips and slender waist to the glorious swell of her breast. Her negligee was transparent and obviously made to get wet, leaving nothing to the imagination as she curled up against him like a cat, blonde hair brushing his chest. “Hello,” she purred seductively, lovely blue eyes framed by dark eye shadow, “I’m Ullah. You looked lonely sitting here by yourself.”

He put his arm around her shoulders reflexively and fell into character. “A man can only give so much, Ullah,” he said, leering at her cleavage, “you girls have sucked me dry.”

She put on a mock expression of contrariness. “Well, perhaps I should see what I can do to speed your recovery, my lord.”

Unfortunately for Feather, the door to the throne room burst open just as he was about to get better acquainted with Ullah. The only being in the whole room that didn’t jump halfway out of their skin was Sanejin himself, who maintained an air of aloof boredom as five female Dragonbloods stormed into the room at the head of a column of Greyfalls soldiers who snapped to attention as they came to a halt, their bootsteps ringing through the chamber. Despite the distraction of having Ullah in his arms, Feather’s keen mind immediately focused on the five women at the head of the small army, memorizing each of them in turn.

At the fore was a lady of obviously noble breeding wearing a flowing black robe with long sleeves and wavy blue trim over loose black silk pants that were clinched at the ankle, with her feet protected by soft black slippers. Flowery silver designs provided attractive accentuating patterns across her whole wardrobe. Her long, lustrous, black hair was tied up in a long ponytail that would probably trail behind her like a bridal train if she let it down. Her stance bore the confidence and grace of a practiced martial artist and her manner was that of a princess trained for diplomacy. She bore an aura of command that made her seem taller than her five-foot-eight frame; all four of her companions were at least a few inches taller yet failed to project the same presence. Feather pinned her as a Water Caste, highly placed amongst House Cynis according to the design of her robes.

Behind the Water Caste to her right walked a slender woman in blue with platinum blonde hair done up in intricate braids that framed her head like a halo. Where the first was dark, she was predominantly light, her robe depicting white blossoms falling in a breeze across a clear sky. She walked in light brown sandals and her robe lacked sleeves, revealing white bandages that bound her torso above the golden Obi that clinched her waist. Her arms remained mostly bare except for a pair of white jade bracelets and she wore two Blue Jade Chakrams at her hip. She might as well have had ‘Air Caste’ stamped on the back of her robe, Feather noted.

Next to her was a Fire Caste in deep red armour who seemed to be smirking at a joke inside her own head. Her short, spiky, hair was unnaturally black with red stripes and orange highlights. Her eye shadow and lipstick matched her hair, tracing designs that looked disturbingly like war paint on what would have been an otherwise cute visage. She walked in her armour with ease, a black cloak and loin cloth trimmed with red characters flapping with her every brisk step. Two red jade short daiklaves crossed her back, ready at a moment’s notice.

The last two were the tallest of the group, one by a wide margin. The tallest walked behind the skinny Air Caste, her exact opposite in many ways. Curvacious and athletic, the woman rested a gigantic Grand Goremaul on one pauldron as if it weighed less than nothing. She also wore heavy plate armour enamelled white with gold trim. Her cloak was a deep blue that matched jade of her Goremaul all of which made her auburn hair all the more striking. She held a helmet tucked under her left arm and marched like a soldier, naturally falling in step with the men behind her. Feather noted that she was certainly Earth Caste.

Finally, as Feather surmised, a Wood Caste completed the circle of Dragon Lords but she cut no less striking a figure. Her outfit was, in fact, quite a bit more brazen than the other four and seemed to have been composed with more of a mind to displaying the body that lay beneath it. Like the Air Caste she had short sleeves on her green robe but unlike the Air Caste who’s robe reached down to her ankles, the Wood Caste wore a loin cloth that exposed her legs up to the hip. Her arms were bound in black bandages with leather gloves over the top, matching sandals hugging her calves. A bow was slung across her back and a black headband held her dark brown hair away from her doe-like eyes.

“Sanejin, Pristine Boyar of Vanity,” the Water Caste addressed at the top of her lungs as the intruders came to a halt. “By the order of the Satrap of Greyfalls, I hereby declare the town of River’s Bend to be part of the Realm and subject to the Empress’ law.”

“Cynis Delani,” Sanejin stated in a tone somewhere between exasperation and annoyance. “What are you doing?”

“Annexing River’s Bend,” Delani answered smugly. The Air Caste produced a document and handed it to her. “As you can see, my orders bare the seal of the Satrap and my men are currently securing the streets. You are now standing in the seventh municipality of the Satrapy of Greyfalls. If you co-operate we’ll let you keep the temple. It’s the least we can do after everything you’ve made possible.”

“I thought we agreed…”

“Plans change,” Delani interrupted, “we agreed not to act as long as you secured trade and kept the local dogs on a leash. Instead your town is in disarray and the people are muttering about Anathema, yet you do nothing!”

“I told them I needed TIME!” Sanejin barked, getting to his feet and stomping down the steps to address the Dragon Bloods on level ground. Feather was impressed; it was certainly a bold move for a relatively minor God.

“Well it seems we ran out of patience,” Delani said calmly, shrugging. The Air Caste produced another document and handed it to her. “By the way, we have a letter for you from the Guild factol in Greyfalls.”

Sanejin blinked, accepting the letter almost numbly. He didn’t open it, almost as if he already knew what it said. His shoulders slumped slightly. “I guess that’s it then. It’ll mean war with the Hundred Kingdoms, you know. All you had to do was exercise a modicum of patience.”

“Relax, Sanejin,” she advised smugly, “don’t worry your pretty little head about it; we’ll take care of everything from here on. We’ll be busy setting up your new government at the Cynis mansion, if we need you we’ll summon you. Let’s go.”

With that, they left Sanejin glaring after them as they marched out as quickly as they had entered. The Fire Caste couldn’t help but glance back over her shoulder and blow him a mocking kiss. The god crushed the letter in his fist as the door closed behind them, growling with rage as he stormed out of the throne room through the door that Feather assumed led to his personal quarters.

Sitting back in astonishment at the unforseen development, Feather had to wonder if it was a move by the Bronze Faction. If it was, it seemed a bit foolhardy to risk the Realm’s bastion in the Threshold over one little village and a relatively minor disruption of fate. Discarding the idea, he found it more likely that this was yet another move by the unseen manipulator trying to re-establish his political smoke screen.

“Well, that was something,” Feather murmured, getting into character again, “say, doll, why don’t we take this els…”

He stopped mid sentence when he turned to find the tub next to him empty.

Feather didn’t have to feign embarrassment as he quickly extricated himself from the empty bathtub and made his way through the hallways to his room, needing time to think alone. He was thinking so furiously that he didn’t feel the presence of another person in his room until the door was shut and bolted. After a tense moment, he breathed a sigh of relief when Rage dropped down from the rafters. “You really need to warn me before you do that,” Feather admonished, “the last thing we need right now is a friendly fire incident.”

“Sorry,” Rage acknowledged, “I was in a rush. What was Greyfalls’ ultimatum?”

“They’re annexing River’s Bend, plain and simple. What’s happening out in the city?”

“The soldiers are still pouring in. The vanguard arrived by fast ship, the river’s as twisted as sheep’s intestines so they’ve probably been hiding in tributaries waiting for an opportune moment. They secured Old Town and joined forces with the house guards in High Town. The rest started marching into town less than ten minutes ago. It’s a well co-ordinated occupation; I expect the quarry stone for the new fortifications to arrive tomorrow. What’s the name of the Dragonblood general?”

Feather blinked, unused to his partner sounding competent. “Er… Cynis Delani. Why?”

Rage retrieved an arcane deck of cards from his belt and started flipping through them, giving his partner a genuine smile. “Half the art of warfare is knowing your enemies, in fact there’s whole areas of study devoted to analysing the psychology and theory of various battle-leaders through the ages. The Division of Battles keeps detailed records of all of them, though our records of those with a Destiny are naturally more detailed. Here we are, Cynis Delani, currently Dragonlord of the 4th Dragon of the 23rd Imperial Legion under General Cathak Kitono. A bright young star exiled to the ass end of the Realm because her superiors believed her to be a political threat, which is indeed true.”

“Impressive,” Feather complimented. “So that’s 500 troops?”

“450 infantry,” Rage corrected his partner’s terminology, “plus 50 cavalry organized into two Scales of 25; not standard for the Legions but out here they prefer more versatile forces. In addition, she’s managed to wrangle her circle-mates into positions under her command along with the provision of 5 Warstriders and 2 airships. Kitono’s throwing one of his best and brightest at the situation here. She’s studied tactics, strategy and diplomacy on the Blessed Isle, spent a few years training with the Immaculate Order but was recalled due to the untimely death of her older brother before proving her worth against the forces of the Mask of Winters. Fearing that they had another Roseblack in the making on their hands, her superiors had her transferred with all haste to her current dead-end post in the 23rd. They’ve underestimated her ambition, I fear, if she’s thrown her lot in with Kitono’s expansionist visions.”

“What about the other four?”

“The Air Caste is Odyne Misari, a lost egg discovered and adopted in adolescence by a Patrician house and delivered to House Cynis, though unusually not adopted by the Great House due to complicated succession politics. Met Cynis Delani about this time and joined her in study with the Immaculates, along with her lover Cathak Hathor, and left when Delani was recalled to the Blessed Isle despite some pressure to take up holy orders. While Delani was off defending Realm territory near Thorns, her family packed Misari off to the Heptagram where she also excelled. Delani and Hathor requested that she be transferred with them to Greyfalls, a commission she happily accepted. The files describe her as quiet, cold and calculating but definitely not leadership material. She prefers to leave that sort of thing to either her lover or Delani. She’s been placed in nominal command of the Dragon’s airships, though she relies on the competency of her two hand-picked captains and holds herself aloof from the crew.

Cathak Hathor, Cynis Delani’s second in command since their days in the South West. Gregarious, competent, well liked by those under her command, Hathor is known for both her martial prowess as well as her dissertations on philosophical thought and poetry; quite possibly the perfect second in command if not for the rebellious streak and a mild drinking problem.. Followed Delani into military service to escape an arranged marriage and fell for Odyne Misari while training with the two at the immaculate temple. When Delani was forcibly transferred, she used her family contacts to put a good word in with Cathak Kitono. She leads the 1st Cavalry Scale of the 4th Dragon in battle as well as being Winglord of the 1st Wing.

Speaking of which, we come to Cathak Agani, a Fire Caste to which the stereotypes most certainly apply. She’s the Winglord of the 2nd Wing of the 4th Dragon and leads the 2nd Cavalry Scale much like her distant cousin Hathor. Unlike Hathor, she’s a glory hound with self-control issues and a famous temper, which made her a black sheep after she almost gutted one of her suitors due to an inappropriate comment. She also happens to be the only member of the circle to have mastered an Immaculate Martial Art, however, and she’s a highly decorated officer. She was assigned to Delani by Kitono in the hopes that the Water Caste could control his wayward niece’s excesses, which seems to have worked. What nobody suspects is that she’s a member of the All-Seeing Eye responsible for several assassinations.”

“Charming,” Feather muttered, “and the last?”

“Skadi Sarro, Wood Caste. I don’t have too much on her because she’s not a formal member of the Legion’s hierarchy but I’d make an informed guess that she’s a scout, sniper, tracker and black operations type. A lost egg like Misari born to a peasant family in the hinterlands north of Greyfalls, she exalted at an early age but was adopted and trained by a renegade Dragonblood. When she grew older, she and her foster father apparently had a falling out that proved lethal to him. She presented herself in Greyfalls not long after and the Satrap was only too grateful to welcome a Dragonblood without political ties to one of the Great Houses into the fold.”

“Sounds like a formidable bunch,” Feather mused.

“Cathak Kitono’s making his play to begin the expansion of Greyfalls,” Rage surmised, “I wouldn’t expect him to send anything less than his best. If he can hand Greyfalls a new district south of the Lesser Rock River, the Realm might just take his ideas of conquering the Scavenger Lands seriously. On the other hand, he’s acting without orders.”

“Without the Scarlet Empress, orders don’t mean much anymore,” Feather asserted.

“So what? Cathak Kitono is our shadowy manipulator?”

Feather shook his head. “If there were a Terrestrial Exalt who could master Celestial Circle Sorcery without the Mantle of Brigid, Chejop Kejak would be certain to let everyone know it. Besides, I’m not sure Celestial level sorcery would be enough to screw up the Loom so badly. I think we’re looking at Solar Circle Sorcery, Sidereal Martial Arts, First Age Technology or some sort of Primordial Charm.”

“So our prime suspects are Anathema?” Rage asked.

“I fear so,” Feather replied, scratching his chin. “I think Cathak Kitono has fallen into a trap. The Scavenger Lands won’t put up with Greyfalls throwing its weight around. If Nexus and Lookshy see this as the thin end of the wedge, they’ll make a counter-move. Right now, however, this puts River’s Bend effectively under martial law, which will make it that much harder for us to track down the real enemy. On the other hand, they’re going to have the same problems progressing with their own agenda.”

“You don’t think this move could be unrelated? Cathak Kitono might be seizing the opportunity as it presented itself.”

“The problem is the timing; one whole day to move an entire Dragon into town from Greyfalls? Not possible, even for a full circle of Dragonbloods. They were waiting, so someone tipped them off that things were coming to a head. It’s also a lot of manpower to put behind annexing a fairly trivial patch of dirt. No, our mysterious manipulator is playing another stalling game.”

“All right,” Rage said, nodding in agreement, “so what’s our counter-move?”

“We need information and we need it faster than before,” Feather concluded. “Sanejin’s going to be busy with the occupation, so I’m going to take the opportunity to sneak into the underground chambers and have a look around. I’ll need you to keep one eye on the Dragonbloods while you look for any signs of Anathema. Speaking of which, you might want to sniff about Shanku Toyo Graveyard, the place gave me a bad vibe.”

They clasped hands for a moment, wishing each other the luck of the star maidens before Rage leapt out of the high window through which he had entered. With nothing to do but wait, Feather sank into his bed and relaxed in preparation for the trials ahead.

#

High above River’s Bend, a large Raiton soared unnoticed among the clouds. Its keen eyes watched the soldiers pour into town from the north, more ships winding their way through the mountains from the east. Military engineers were already busy unloading five enormous covered wagons from the ships at dock, teams of horses pulling them slowly into the town square. Civilians huddled indoors, nowhere to be seen. A flash of colour caught the bird’s eye, drawing attention to a procession soldiers marching down the hillside from the Temple led by five figures on horseback. Curious, it swooped down to alight on a nearby tree and watched as the Dragonlord general and her four cohorts passed underneath.

“Trust a petty god to hog the good view,” the large one in white enamelled heavy plate armour commented as she gazed at the mountain sunset.

“I’ll set aside one of the towers just for you, Hathor,” the woman in black at the head of the column quipped.

“Well,” Hathor replied, giving the lady in white and blue at her side a meaningful look, “maybe not just for me.”

The white-haired air caste smiled back coyly.

“Get a room you two,” the fast-tempered fire caste snapped. “What are we going to do about Sanejin? You know he’s not going to sit still for this, Delani,” she said, addressing the woman at the head of the column.

“I’d be perfectly happy to handle him if you like,” the wood caste offered, placing particular emphasis on the word ‘handle’.

“Sanejin would eat you alive, Sarro,” Delani rebuked, “I’ll deal with him personally.”

Sarro chuckled. “Well, well, it seems our glorious leader’s already taking the lion’s share of the spoils.”

“Have some respect, hedonist,” Hathor growled, though her tone was reproving rather than aggressive, “we need you focussed on the task at hand, not besotted by wonton revelry.”

“Pity,” the wood caste lamented, pouting. “By the way, there’s a mortal woman hiding in the bushes up ahead. Should I fetch her?”

The dragonbloods concealed their surprise admirably. “I didn’t think there were any women in River’s Bend except whores and dragonbloods,” Hathor muttered.

“Then let’s see which one we have on our hands,” Delani said, giving Sarro a curt nod.

The wood caste hopped up onto the back of her steed and pounced, somersaulting deftly through the branches and startling the Raiton that perched there, causing it to flit to another branch. Moments later, there was a startled screech as the dragonblood kicked a pretty brown-haired woman onto the road, her loose-fitting robe falling open to reveal her bruised and battered body. She would have been beautiful except that she was covered in dirt with twigs and leaves infesting her tangled hair along with a large purple bruise on her cheek.

The dragonbloods surveyed the tattered wreck that cried at their feet as they called the column to a halt. Hathor glared at the girl’s injuries and dismounted, kneeling beside Sarro. “Delani, she’s been raped,” the earth caste reported. Reaching out tenderly, she moved the girl’s hair out of her eyes.

“It’s all right; we’re not going to hurt you.” Sarro said softly, trying to reassure the girl. “Take a deep breath. Can you tell us your name?”

She tried to hold back her sobs, hiccoughing with such force that it made the onlooker’s lungs ache in sympathy. “Bonzo,” she croaked.

The Dragon Lords collectively blinked. “Bonzo,” Hathor repeated, “as in Undersherrif Bonzo, subordinate to White Crane?”

She nodded, gasping. “Please, water.”

“Not too much at once,” Sarro advised, handing the girl her flask.

Nodding, Bonzo took several small sips before continuing. “The Anathema… it summoned a ghost to chase me down. It was fast, knocked me down. It had some of the water and…”

Bonzo paused as fresh sobs wracked her body, tears leaving streaks in the mud on her face.

“It’s ok, breathe,” Sarro mollified, “what do you mean it had ‘the water’.”

It took a while for Bonzo to speak again and even then it was in halting gasps. “The Water of… Eternal Perfection. Sanejin’s… it made me like this. Ghost stole it… from White Crane. We used it to keep… the men… in line. I changed and it… it…”

She wasn’t able to finish, bursting into wails of despair. Sarro hugged her, letting the girl cry into her shoulder. Hathor grimaced in disgust; the fire caste scowled, gripping the reins with white knuckled force and the air caste was on the verge of sympathetic tears. Delani, however, maintained her mask of cool composure, pausing only to take stock of the development and devising their best course of action before speaking. “Sarro,” she ordered, “take her back to the mansion and look after her. She’s not to leave under any circumstances and by the five dragons; nobody is to breathe a word about her existence. Am I understood?”

Sarro nodded, easily cradling the sobbing girl in her arms using her essence to strengthen her limbs. The wood caste rode ahead with Bonzo curled up against her chest, appearing equal parts determined and angry.

“I know she’s our best healer,” Hathor said as she watched them leave, “but I feel I must voice my objection to giving a transformed rape victim over to the hedonist.”

Delani rolled her eyes. “Objection noted but you’re not giving Sarro enough credit. As a Cynis, however, I’m flattered you think a morsel like that would be safer with me.”

The other three dragonbloods shared a look as Delani spurred her horse into a walk, laughing at her own joke. Their leader had their loyalty, respect and love without question.

But sometimes she scared the shit out of them.

#

“I said I was COMING!” Menji shouted over the repeated polite taps on his door as he shuffled to open it. Instead of politely sliding the door across, however, he shoved the sliding door with enough force that the sharp ‘crack’ as it collided with the frame echoed from the nearby buildings.

The old man found himself looking up at a young, blonde, man with a large straw pack on his back dressed in a simple white tunic and trousers with dirty straw sandals on his feet. He smiled beatifically and his smooth, easy, tone would have lulled less grouchy men into a false sense of security and trust. “Hello, elder,” he greeted, “I’m sorry to disturb your morning but I arrived in town earlier today to peddle my wears and now the nice soldiers won’t let me leave. Would it be all right if I availed myself of one of your rooms for a few nights?”

“NO!” Menji snapped, slamming the door shut in the peddler’s face before shuffling back to his rice cooker. After a few moments of silence, the incessant polite knocking started again. “I SAID NO!” Menji shouted but the knocking continued unabated. Stomping back to the door, Menji snapped it open again. “ARE YOU DEAF I SAID…”

The old man’s tirade stalled when he noticed what the peddler was holding up in front of his face. They were just sandals, simple, plain, honest, sandals made of wood and thread. The quality of their make, however, was exquisite in their practical beauty. The weave of the threads made for tough, strong straps that were also soft like kitten fur against the skin. Indentations had been sanded into the upper sole so that it would hold any size of foot with maximum comfort while providing the best support, cushioned with supple leather. The underside was scored with a complex pattern that would provide grip and the straps were tied in an impossible-looking knot that didn’t seem to have an end, never breaking unless the sole did first. They were, to put it succinctly, perfect sandals.

“I don’t have any money, elder,” the peddler explained apologetically, “but I’m willing to trade this pair of sandals for my lodgings if you are amenable.”

“Yes,” Menji said in awe-stricken agreement, staring at the shoes as he took them from the peddler. “Please, come inside young man.”

Still smiling, the peddler stepped into the dark shadows of Menji’s house, closing the door behind him.

#

“Mistress Ura,” Mouth of Ashes, God of the Last Bite, greeted the Chosen of Journeys with a polite bow as they passed each other outside the Bathhouse of Venus, “it is a pleasure to see you again; I hope you are well.”

Ura returned his respectful bow and favoured the god with a friendly smile. “As well as can be expected, unfortunately I was here on business rather than pleasure.”

He nodded. “Indeed, most unfortunate. I apologize for interrupting you but I just wanted to see if you had heard the news. Master Wayang had me relay some new orders to Destined Edge directing her to join Shining Feather and Focused Rage in some backwater town called River’s Bend. I mean honestly, I can’t imagine a situation that might require the attentions of three experienced Siderials, can you?”

“I’m sure Master Wayang merely wants to expedite the solution,” Ura answered, “but thank you for bringing the matter to my attention.”

“Not at all, I’ll see you at Uvanavu’s on the tenday,” he said, quickly moving on.

“Indeed,” Ura called cheerfully back, “should be quite the party.”

Continuing on her way, Ura made sure she was well out of sight of the friendly god before breaking from her stately stroll into a brisk walk.

#

Cynis Delani was annoyed rather than perturbed when she noticed Nellens Rapik’s banner flying below hers over the Cynis mansion, indicating that the officious buffoon was waiting for her arrival. A ration alighted atop it, prompting Delani to say a silent prayer to the god of birds, hoping it would relieve itself on its perch. Hathor noticed her frown and lent over to whisper as they rode through the gate. “Problem?” She asked.

“Annoyance,” Delani replied in the same sotto voice. “Why don’t you take Misari and start organizing the construction while Agani and I clip some wings?”

Hathor nodded, signalling for her air caste lover to ride with her as she wheeled her horse to ride out again. Misari followed close behind, the quiet girl looking eager to begin the real work. Agani spurred her mount next to her commander’s so that the two of them would arrive at the main house shoulder to shoulder.

The servants wisely remained silent as they ran up to take the dragonblood’s mounts back to their stables, the soldiers quickly dispersing at Delani’s signal. Her officers led well and she trusted their judgement implicitly, so she was happy to allow them to organize details like guard rotations and lodgings, thinking nothing of it as she strode into her new abode.

The Cynis mansion was one of the largest in River’s Bend, built as a private retreat for some of the more debauched elders of the Great House that resided in Greyfalls. It was well appointed with all the creature comforts a noble could require from orgy-sized beds to an enormous bath that could be heated by a furnace in the basement. The walls were composed of gigantic marble blocks that mimicked the pleasure houses of the First Age and the furnishings and fittings were all of decadent quality. It wasn’t the house of a soldier but Delani was all too happy to take advantage of what pleasures came her way.

“Mistress,” the house master greeted Delani as she entered, bowing low in subservience. “Lady Sarro has taken your guest to the northeast chamber on the third floor and has ordered various medicines as well as a bath. Lord Rapik is awaiting your presence in the lounge.”

The two dragonbloods didn’t even break stride, footsteps echoing as they turned down the corridor that led to the lounge and thrusting open the gilded double doors as if they had the temerity to bar their mistress’ way. The room beyond was as lavishly furnished as the rest of the house, with a large circular pit surrounding a giant brazier that would provide enough warmth for the whole room on a cold winter’s night. Around the pit sat various tables, divans, lounges and other assorted pieces of furniture for the comfort of guests, parties and the inevitable orgies that characterized noble society. The balcony at the far end of the room overlooked River’s Bend, providing a spectacular view of the river valley marred only by the presence of the Low Town by the river itself.

Like the view, Delani couldn’t help but think that her room was marred by Nellens Rapik’s presence, the only difference being that she could fix Low Town. A distant relative to the Satrap of Greyfalls, Nellens Rapik was an old, gaunt, wood caste dragonblood that had dedicated his life to service in the Thousand Scales, the bureaucratic arm of the Realm. His hair and beard were chalk white to match his patchy pale skin, neither of which were flattered by his deep green robes embroidered with a rigid pattern of white and gold squares. The elder dragonblood lounged in a chair that sat next to a table bedecked with fresh fruit that the bureaucrat was busy helping himself to. Also on the table was a large goblet of fine wine which Delani correctly surmised was from her own cellar.

“I don’t remember sending for you, Rapik,” Delani said dismissively as she stormed up to the table.

“Indeed you didn’t, little dragon,” Rapik replied gracefully with just a slight patronizing tone, “but I thought I’d save you the trouble of sending a messenger after you got back from talking with Sanejin.”

“And why would I do a thing like that?” Delani asked, gesturing for a servant to bring her a chair rather than getting it herself, a move designed to emphasize who was the mistress of the house. Agani remained standing, crossing her arms to add to the weight of her heavily armed presence. “I’m under direct orders from General Kitono, the Thousand Scales has no authority over me.”

“Actually, dear, I’m here on vacation,” he informed, giving them his most disarming smile, “and honestly I would love nothing more than to get back to my rest and relaxation. However, your little manoeuvre this morning is worrying the other vacationing lords. We had a little get-together earlier and they asked me to be their official representative to the 23rd Legion. Unfortunately, I felt that I couldn’t decline in the face of their faith in my abilities. Also, as the most senior political officer currently residing in River’s Bend I feel that it is my duty to guide the war effort until a firm chain of command can be established.”

“Well, well, well,” Agani chuckled, “look at the balls on you, old man.”

“River’s Bend is now under military control,” Delani informed him coldly, “you have no authority here, Rapik.”

Rapik lifted his goblet to salute them. “Then perhaps I should see what the Satrap has to say about this incursion. I don’t believe I’ve seen an official declaration of war against the Hundred Kingdoms cross my desk.”

“Well, for that to happen the Realm would have to recognize the sovereignty of River’s Bend, which we don’t,” Delani pointed out. “This is just one tiny town on the edge of nowhere; I doubt Lookshy or Nexus will so much as bat an eye.”

“Or they could see it as the thin end of the wedge,” Rapik argued.

“Hmmm, you know, Rapik, you might be right,” Delani mused, making a show of it. “But I think it might be wise to send another letter to Sister Cloud Hands. I’m sure the Immaculate Order would be ecstatic with all the good work you and your friends have been doing down here, civilizing the wilds.”

That suggestion made Rapik sweat a little. “Actually, Lady Delani, I think I now see the merits of your original point. There isn’t any reason to mire this affair in political bickering. If we work together, I’m sure the Empress’ Legions and her Thousand Scales can accomplish anything for the glory of her name.”

Delani relaxed a little. “I’m glad we could come to an understanding, elder. I would have disliked ordering your execution.”

Unseen far above, the ration took to wing from its perch on the rim of the skylight, soaring up into the clouds once more.

#

“I… it… he didn’t…” Bonzo said in shuddering breaths, not having to fake distress. She could still taste the scholar’s fetid tongue in her mouth; feel his bony hand on her skin. The slightest reminder made her shudder and Lady Sarro’s ointment combined with the warm herbal bath was making the myriad cuts and abrasions over her body sting. It also didn’t help that the dragonblood was partly naked, the sight of the noble lady’s breasts causing strange reactions in her new form.

“What didn’t he do, dear?” Sarro asked gently, wiping the girl’s back gently with a sponge.

“He… he was between my legs but he didn’t… we both had all our clothes on,” she said, struggling with the incredulous concept that she was now a woman vulnerable to such things combined with her ignorance of the proper words to express herself.

“So you don’t think you were raped?” Sarro asked, probing the new girl’s attitude.

She nodded hesitantly.

“Bonzo,” Sarro sighed, “you don’t have to consummate a union with a woman to call such a thing rape. That you were forced is enough.”

Bonzo mulled that one over while Sarro massaged her shoulders, slowly relaxing. A comforting warmth spread from her stomach as she slipped into a pleasurable trance, though she couldn’t get the image of the dragonblood slipping into the bath with her out of her mind.

“Bonzo, can you hear me?” Sarro asked in a reassuring, gentle, quiet voice.

“Yes,” Bonzo replied huskily.

“You feel calm and safe and relaxed. You know that nothing can hurt you as long as you’re here with me, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sarro.”

Smiling, Sarro reached around and gave Bonzo’s erect nipple a short stroke, causing an immediate shudder of ecstasy. “Good girl,” Sarro praised her. “Now I’m going to ask you some questions and as long as you tell the truth you will be rewarded but if you’ll lie to me I’ll leave and you won’t be safe anymore. Do you understand?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Bonzo said weakly.

“You have nothing to fear as long as you tell the absolute truth,” Sarro comforted the new girl, “do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Sarro reached around again, giving her charge’s most sensitive areas another caress, provoking a moan of pure delight. “Very good,” she encouraged. “Now I want you to tell me everything from the very beginning, starting with your recruitment into the All-Seeing Eye.”

#

The ration found Focused Rage cleaning and honing his blades amongst a tangle of chimneys on the rooves of lower town, trying to channel his nervous energy into something constructive as he kept one eye on the occupying forces. Hathor and Misari could be seen in the main square a few hundred feet away as they drafted villagers into the labour force that would transform River’s Bend into a fortified city. Rage had to give the earth caste commander her due; she’d managed to wrangle the crowd without too many object lessons in discipline. While Hathor did the hands-on work; Misari concentrated on the blueprints and planning.

The only problem was that the fortifications would take weeks to build and Rage felt both impatient and worried. For starters, he wasn’t the patient ‘watch and learn’ type, he was a man of action suited to solving problems with blades and force of arms. On the other hand, he was worried about Feather’s foray into the depths of the Temple high above, his gaze straying to the mountain on occasion as he muttered silent prayers to the Maidens for his partner’s safety.

His vantage point kept three other places of interest in sight: Menji’s Inn, the White Crane Dojo and the Graveyard across the river. Of course, nothing interesting was happening at any of those locations either. Menji had an unremarkable new lodger who watched the proceedings in the town square with the interest of a gawping tourist while trying to sell shoes to passers by. The militia had fortified the Dojo and remained in hiding, with members only venturing out to purchase supplies and practice weapon drills. It was little surprise that the Legion soldiers completely ignored them as the professionals usually viewed militias as a step above bandits (a view that the White Crane Dojo entirely justified). Red Wolf himself was nowhere to be seen, if Rage hadn’t spied Mamo on a few occasions he would have thought that the petty tyrant had fled the town entirely. Finally, the Graveyard was dark, still and (appropriately) dead, the sedate sway of branches in the wind the only detectable movement. Absently, Rage wished he would spot an errant hungry ghost just to alleviate the boredom of the day.

So it was, without an enemy to cross swords with, the Sidereal sat and polished; as twitchy as a racehorse waiting for the off. Hours passed, the sun sinking lower on the horizon and, to his frustration nothing changed.

As the light finally started to fade, the raiton took wing, catching an updraft to lift itself high into the sky. Soaring high over the mountains, the black-feathered bird avoided the clouds as it tracked the landmarks below, searching for its point of origin. At last, it swooped down through the canopy, aiming for the rocky edge of a freshwater pool far below.

It alighted just as a green-skinned woman broke through the surface of the still water, her long blue hair floating in the water behind her like a bride’s veil as she approached the edge. Her skin was covered in whirling patterns of silver that brought to mind both the winding currents of the rivers of Creation and the flow of blood through the veins of her body. She was naked, the beauty of her tattooed, athletic, form on display for all to see. That she was built for a life underwater was not in doubt, her shoulders slightly broader than her hips and membranes stretched between her fingers and toes. Her ears were also pointed and her eyes almost completely black, adapted to the depths of the ocean were light was scarce.

The raiton changed, growing from the size of a cat into the form of a young human woman clad in a short black robe that matched the colour of both her former feathers and tousled hair. She kept her hair short and didn’t bother to comb, almost giving the impression that the feathers in it had fallen there and gotten stuck rather than actually growing from her scalp. Her pale skin was also tattooed in silver, sharp slashes from which stylized swirls dripped like blood from wounds caused by a great beast.

While the two girls were about the same height, the brunette was slender where the river-goddess was curved. They both possessed a kind of savage beauty, however, that marked them as similar beings, their bodies honed into instruments of predation.

The mer-woman gazed into the other girl’s eyes for a moment, conveying an insistent need that would not be denied before their lips met, bodies pressed together as they shared themselves without reservation. Hands confidently caressed all the familiar, comfortable, places as their tongues slid gently across one another, affirming the passion that existed between them. Reluctantly pulling away, the mer-woman stroked her lover’s cheek, moving an errant strand of hair out of her face. “I missed you,” she whispered huskily.

The raiton-girl rolled her eyes as she wrapped her legs around the other woman’s waist. “I was only gone a few hours, you’re such a needy bitch.”

“We’ll see who’s begging for more tonight,” the green-skinned lady said as she smirked. “What’s going on in town?”

“It’s crawling with Dragonbloods, mortal soldiers, Gods, Sidereals and I think I spotted Aten boarding in with old Menji.”

The mer-woman scowled before spitting, looking as if someone had just placed a slice of lemon in her mouth. “At least that means we have a base of operations, even if we have to keep slime like Aten on a short leash.”

“Oh, Aten’s not so bad,” the other girl said wistfully

“Then I better be sure to remind you how much better I am,” the mer-woman promised with some heat. “So what do you think? Do we do the camp follower thing again?”

The brunette shook her head. “No women in lower town, we’d attract too much attention. Actually, we’d probably be so busy as prostitutes that we wouldn’t have time for anything else, they’re a rather desperate bunch.”

“Ugh,” the mer-woman grimaced, “male forms then.”

“Don’t worry, dear heart,” the brunette comforted, pulling the other woman closer, “I’m sure I can find some way to make the chore… easier.”

And as the sun fell below the horizon, she set herself to the task.

#

It was with great reluctance that Feather extracted himself from the bed he was sharing with three stunningly beautiful, unconscious, women. As one of the Chosen of Serenity, he lamented having to use his Venus-given gift of lovemaking so crudely yet, if he played his cards right, he could convince the girls that they’d been with him all night, providing an airtight alibi if anything went wrong. Free from the sweaty tangle, he washed to reduce the musky residue of sex before dressing in a simple dark blue-grey robe that would aid in stealth while not appearing out of the ordinary for a genuine dragonblood guest of the brothel if he were spotted. Finally, he braided his jet black hair up in an elaborate weave that hugged his scalp before covering it with a veil that matched the colour of his robes and, more importantly, obscured his face without being remarkable socially. Most hedonists, dragonblooded and mortal alike, would attend a masked orgy at any brothel at least once so masks and other contrivances weren’t uncommon.

Slipping out into the deserted hallways, the vast majority of the staff and guests busy with their nightly festivities, Feather slipped from shadow to shadow unseen. Moving through the deserted throne room to the curtains that concealed the private area behind the throne itself, Feather listened for several moments before peeking through. To his surprise there was nothing more than a few divans, tables with make-up boxes and mirrors, wardrobes and a spiral staircase worked in stone that led down with no guards anywhere.

The Sidereal moved quickly yet cautiously down the steps, not wanting to run into anyone coming up the other way, allowing himself a short sigh of relief as he exited the stairwell at the back of a balcony that overlooked a large antechamber. Crouching, he made his way over to the balustrade, still surprised at the lack of guards, and peeked through the elegantly carved marble slats at the scene below.

The room was perfectly round with vaulting that extended the elegant sweeping curve or the room to the ceiling overhead. The balcony he was kneeling on led to flights of stairs to the left and right along with wooden doors that Feather surmised led to the staff areas for the brothel. Another hallway led from the chamber directly beneath the spiral staircase on the next level down with a large silver door standing directly opposite, the intricate engraving upon it depicting Luna herself hunting Raksha in the depths of the Wyld. Braziers on the walls provided light and heat, the flickering flames illuminating the rough-hewn circular block at the centre of the room. The top had been carved into a shallow basin that had been filled with clear water, the still surface reflecting the firelight perfectly.

The figure sitting on the block, running the tips of his fingers across the water, made Feather wish he’d spent more time studying stealth charms than he had socializing in Yu Shan. Sanejin gazed at the reflection of the fire as it rippled, seemingly waiting for something. Praying to Venus that the God wasn’t about to blow his cover, Feather kept as still as possible to see what would happen next.

Minutes crawled along like hours before footsteps could be heard coming from the hallway below. Sanejin stood and adjusted the sleeves of his robe, wiping away the tiny droplets on his fingertips. “Ah, Mamo,” the god greeted someone Feather couldn’t see because of the balcony, “he didn’t give you any trouble I trust?”

There was a momentary scuffle before a red-robed figure was flung into Feather’s field of vision, landing in a heap at Sanejin’s bare feet. A second figure followed, dressed in rich black cloth, that was barely as tall as the god’s waistline. Voluminous robes concealed Mamo from Feather’s vantage point, so he was unable to make out any details.

“Far too easy,” Mamo replied, his voice slightly higher pitched than one would expect even from a boy yet too low to be a girl’s in Feather’s estimation.

Sanejin sighed theatrically as he turned the bound and gagged man in ragged red robes onto his back with one foot. “Red Wolf, I am so disappointed,” the god chastised. “I have lived in these hills for a millennia, did you really think I didn’t know about the canals?”

Red Wolf whimpered pathetically, more a whipped dog than a wolf.

Kneeling, the god addressed his captive in an easy, conversational, tone. “I survived The Great Contagion in this house. I fought off Raksha when they were banging at my gate. Long ago, I played the game of diplomacy in Yu Shan; your feeble games are like watching children playing with their own faeces. Though, I have to admit, you had me over a barrel for a while there, though there was no way it could last. All I had to do was wait for you to make a mistake and look, this is where we find ourselves now. Of course, you’re not here for anything as petty as revenge, you are beneath my personal attention and I would have been quite happy to leave the culmination of your fate to Mamo here, except for one thing. Red Wolf, you have been given two singular honours. The first was the honour of witnessing the Exaltation of one of the Solar Exalted, Chosen of the Unconquered Sun and a true Prince of the Earth. And that has brought you the honour of being worth MY personal time.”

The god grabbed the front of Red Wolf’s robe and hauled the mortal up as he stood casually with one hand. Sanejin towered over Red Wolf, looking directly into his eyes. Mamo produced a knife from one sleeve and cut their prisoner’s gag away as the god continued.

“I only have one question for you,” Sanejin informed, his voice lowered threateningly. “Where is the one known as Tetsu?”

“I… I don’t know,” Red Wolf squeaked as soon as he could find his voice.

Sanejin glared and when he spoke his voice held the threat of a burgeoning storm. “I warn you, dog, I don’t have the luxury of time… or perhaps you would prefer the moniker of Red Bitch?”

Feather had to admire the god’s interrogation technique. Less sophisticated inquisitors would have felt the need to produce a knife after threatening to emasculate someone.

“NO! No-no,” Red Wolf stuttered, panic causing his entire body to jitter, the god’s steady arm the only thing holding him upright. “I-I don’t know where he is n-now, t-the last I saw of him h-he was fighting White Crane as they slid down the mountain towards the river, I swear! I sent men t-to look for them but all they found was pieces of White Crane. He was with Kano, the whore I kept at Menji’s place b-but none of my contacts has seen either of them since. If they’re smart, they’re probably miles away by now.”

“Your words stink of truth,” Sanejin said, scowling as he tossed the man casually to one side. “Mamo, I need Tetsu brought back to us with all possible haste. Kennel this dog; I’ll deal with him when I get back.”

Mamo bowed in acknowledgement as Sanejin strode past and down the hallway under the balcony before he spurred Red Wolf off the floor with several kicks, wrangling the grown man with ease that suggested supernatural might. Feather thanked Venus that neither of them were heading to the throne room above as he descended the stairs. The hallway where Sanejin and Mamo had gone was also white marble, reflecting the warm light of the torches that were placed in silver sconces at regular intervals to suffuse everything in an even orange glow.

Deciding that following either of the conspirators wasn’t the wisest course, Feather examined the enormous silver doors to see if he could open them silently. It was only then that he noticed that the doors, while possessing handles to turn, seemed to have no hinges at all. Taking a quick glance behind him, he mustered his courage to grasp one of the handles and pull. It swung open easily, the edge that would normally be fixed to the doorframe by hinges bending easily. Slipping inside, Feather watched the door slowly move back into place. Checking the door with his aura sight, he noticed that the essence of the door changed when he touched it, making it more flexible, similar to the way Daiklaves become lighter and more balanced in the hands of the Exalted.

Marvelling at the wonder, Feather turned down the rough hewn corridor that he found beyond, descending ponderously uneven steps. Hewn rock quickly gave way to natural cave formations with the sole exception of the stairs, which had been roughly carved into bare rock. Primitive paintings covered the walls and ceiling, depicting myriad scenes of beastmen and shapeshifting Lunar Exalted hunting strange beasts. Very occasionally they were joined by golden warriors that radiated light or a strange mercurial silver being that seemed to drive everything around it into chaos. The galleries were lit by glowing blue lichen that seemed to thrive in the damp, humid, environment, making the cave appear to be bathed in moonlight. The further he descended, the greater the sensation of power in the air, tingling across every inch of the Sidereal’s skin.

The stairs ended at one last, enormous, gallery, the splendour of which took Feather’s breath away. The chamber could have been mistaken as a completely natural occurrence except for the fact that it was almost spherical, or perhaps slightly egg-shaped. At the base was a glowing circular pool that provided the only light source for the room and was perhaps the real source of the lichen’s luminescent properties. The walls and ceiling of the cave were covered with forged moonsilver runes that squirmed and writhed like living things as droplets of water condensed and dripped down the cold stone, causing the light to dance weirdly through the misty air. While he couldn’t read all of the runes, he did recognize the first age inscription that surrounded the pool.

May all who wish drink freely without sanction, it read. Strangely, Feather noted that the inscription had been written in the accusatory, making the phrase an order rather than an invitation. Curious, he walked down the last few steps and knelt by the side of the pool as he invoked his aura sight. What he saw left him without a doubt that he was in the heart of the manse, the hearthroom. Of course, the hearthstone that would give the one attuned to the manse mystical powers was long gone, probably in Sanejin’s possession.

Running his fingers through the cool water, Feather noted that it seemed cool and clear, the light issuing fourth from unfathomable depths, the bottom of the pool completely obscured from view. Cupping his hands, he brought a small amount up to his face and sniffed, detecting nothing but particularly fresh, clean, water despite the essence that suffused the liquid. Feeling a little dry, he took a small sip before dropping the rest back into the pool, savouring the cold, clean, sweet taste for a few moments. He felt revitalized as he hopped back to his feet, lighter than air with a fresh spring in his step as he turned away to leave the room behind and begin his search for answers anew.

Feather stopped a few feet from the cave mouth, reaching up to scratch the back of his head. A tiny ‘ow’ of pain escaped his lips as his nails dug in with unexpected sharpness. Looking at his hand, it took a moment for him to notice. He didn’t remember his nails being so long and, indeed, as he stared at the he found that he was not mistaken in his conclusion. They were growing. As the itch spread across his scalp and his braids seemed to loosen, it left him not doubt that his hair was growing as well.

He might have shrugged it off and continued on his way, pausing only to fix his hair as it continued to grow, except for the strange feeling that seemed to crawl up the tips of his fingers. Eyes bulging, Feather bit his lip to stop himself from screaming as his fingers began to shrink, becoming more slender while the fine hair on the back of his palms receded. He gaped in soundless horror as they shrank to match the feminine digits, even as the minor blemishes and wrinkles faded away leaving perfect, smooth, skin.

A sudden, sharp, pain in his stomach made him clamp one of his tiny hands over his mouth, emphasizing just how different they were by feel, as he sank to one knee. When his wrist and forearms started to change, the hair on his arms disappearing first, Feather began to feel the same sensation in his toes and feet moments before his soft slippers began to feel loose. More worryingly, he could feel the belt that clinched his robe together loosen as the hem of the pants he was wearing underneath started to slide down his waist.

The change shrank his shoulders to the point where he couldn’t help but let the collar slip down his now slender arms. The pain in his stomach soon gave way to a pulsing warmth that seemed to match his heartbeat, flowing throughout his body with the rush blood in his veins. There was little doubt left in his mind what was happening to him as the two different sensations mingled inside his torso, concentrating on his groin, chest and hips.

The first orgasm hit him out of the blue, bowling him over onto his side as spasms of pleasure wracked his body. Each wave brought several gradual changes. His hips and butt expanded slightly; his penis hardened and shrank while his testicles pulled up into his abdomen and two mounds of flesh inflated under the skin of his chest. His nipples expanded, aching to be touched as they rubbed against the cloth of his shirt. Feather couldn’t help but moan as the last orgasm split his scrotum open, the tender flesh retracting to form a puffy mound around the pink slit that now took residence in his crotch. It wasn’t until the new girl was back to her full senses, breathing hard and doused with sweat, that she felt the last vestiges of the strange sensation fade from the tip of her nose and cheeks.

Feather covered her mouth with both hands as she lay on the floor but this time she couldn’t help but scream.

Chapter 10

Basking in the high sun, Tetsu slid her hands down her own body, luxuriating in the feel of her silky bronze skin. Naked aside from thin gold chains around her waist and neck, the solar reclined on a divan inside the Palace of Eternal Pleasure, attended by several temple prostitutes who cooled her with gentle waves of palm leaf fans and offered a variety of fruit platters. She smiled when her husband’s hand came to rest on her thigh, opening her eyes to gaze lovingly on his face.

Sanejin smiled down at her as their eyes met, his hand straying higher up her thigh as he leant over to take her lips. She kissed back, eagerly accepting his tongue inside her mouth while his fingers teased the cleft between her legs. She gave herself to him willingly, overcome by love and lust in equal measure, and in no time at all she found her gorgeous legs wrapped around his hips, moaning in coital bliss. She begged for him to come, wanting nothing more than for his seed to take root in her womb as her ecstasy built to a thunderous climax that shattered reality like glass.

Tetsu the Wanderer lurched upright, throwing off the blanket that covered him as his hand grasped his crotch in panic. It was with some relief that he found himself male and whole, aside from the bandage the squeezed his chest. He almost jumped when a slender, feminine, hand grasped his shoulder. His eyes followed the supple arm that was attached to it to a set of slender shoulders, up a swan-like neck to the face of a queen crowned with long golden blonde hair, concern etched into her beautiful features.

“You shouldn’t exert yourself, Tetsu,” she advised in a patient, motherly, voice that managed to be sultry and provocative at the same time, “your wound is still mending.”

He let her push him back down into the bed, figuring that if she wanted him dead she had ample opportunity to kill him while he was unconscious.

“Hey boss,” Kano greeted, smiling as he slid over to Tetu’s side on his knees, “good to have you back.”

“I’m too ugly to die,” Tetsu quipped, though his voice was a little strained from the tightness of the bandage. “How long was I out?”

“A little more than a day,” the woman supplied, “usually my remedies don’t take this long but you were grievously wounded.”

“This is Ullah,” Kano introduced, “she was waiting when I pulled you out of the river.”

Tetsu frowned. “That’s a remarkable… coincidence.”

She snorted. After a moment, a shining yellow circle appeared on her brow. “There are no coincidences; I was led to where I could find you by the will of the Unconquered Sun. To properly introduce myself, I am Ullah, Solar Exalted of the Zenith Caste. From what Kano tells me, you are Tetsu, a newly exalted of the Eclipse Caste. I believe that the Unconquered Sun sent me to teach you your new role in Creation and set you on your path.”

“Solar Exalted?” Tetsu asked incredulously. “Lady, I may be an idiot but I know the sign of the Blasphemous when I see it. If you helped save me just to preach me to death, put me out of my misery and go sell your snake oil somewhere else.”

“Coming from one of the Decievers, that’s rather ironic,” Ullah observed with a sarcastic smirk.

“I’m not an Anathma, or whatever you called me,” Tetsu said stubbornly. “I have no sudden cravings for the souls of the innocent, skinning babies alive doesn’t hold any real appeal to me right now… heck, I don’t think I could work up the energy to so much as kick a puppy at the moment, or even throw one. Frankly, destroying Creation sounds a bit too much like work… besides; it’s where I keep my stuff.”

“The hard way it is, then,” Ullah observed, still smiling as she produced a mirror and held it up in front of his face. “Just humour me for a moment. I want you to concentrate on your brow. You’ll feel a kind of pulling sensation that’s a bit hard to explain since you’re unfamiliar with drawing on your essence as yet, just follow it where it leads and relax.”

Chuckling, Tetsu shook his head. “All right, all right, I’ll humour a woman of your beauty just this once, but…”

He stopped in the middle of his sentence just as he concentrated his attention on his brow. There was something there, something that didn’t really exist yet he could still feel at the same time. It pulled and curiosity couldn’t help but make him push in an ephemeral sense that he didn’t understand. In moments, two concentric circles shone on his brow, the inner circle full while the outer circle surrounding it was empty. It was the mark of a Deciever, one of the Anathema of the Immaculate faith.

“Ok,” Tetsu said with a gulp. “How do I know this isn’t some sort of illusion?”

Ullah nodded. “I’d be worried if you accepted everything I said on face value. If it was an illusion, I would be in control of it, would you agree?”

Tetsu nodded.

“Then extinguish your caste mark and re-light it randomly. I can go to another room if you think I can read your expression or thoughts…”

“Not necessary,” Tetsu whispered as his caste mark flared, then went out, then flared to life again, “I can feel it drawing on my… on the… it’s like a pool of energy inside me…”

“That would be your essence,” she informed him, “exalted of all types use it to power their abilities, along with mortal sorcerers and enlightened martial artists. Through meditation and contemplation, you will be able to expand that pool of energy. Its levels are finite, though it regenerates over time.”

“All right,” Tetsu said with a gulp. “Maybe I’ll listen to your pitch after all.”

She beamed. “Very good, we’ve still got a few hours while your chest heals anyway and we have a lot to get through. Kano, why don’t you get us something to eat?”

Nodding, the former prostitute hopped to his feet and exited through one of the screen doors, closing it behind him.

“So,” Tetsu broached after an uncomfortable silence, “he’s not about to deep fry some babies for us, is he?”

Ullah rolled her eyes. “No, Tetsu, babies are not on the menu. You might as well take everything the Immaculate Order has ever said about the so-called ‘Anathema’ and pitch it out of a high window. We’re not evil or demonic by nature unless we were before our exaltation. We are the Chosen, gifted with a shard of power from one of the Incarnae, in our cases by the Unconquered Sun. We are people that he has deemed worthy due to our consummate skill of baring part of his own perfection and wielding it as his champions in Creation. We are the Solar Exalted, similar to the Dragonblooded in that we are mortals enhanced by the power of greater beings but dissimilar in that this power is not passed down through bloodlines. We are chosen purely based on our greatness or our potential greatness. At some point, a candidate makes a choice to face impossible odds at the peril of their own lives and in making that choice they are empowered and succeed where all others would fail.”

“So, when I stood my ground against Red Wolf and White Crane,” Tetsu concluded, “I passed some sort of divine test?”

“You’re forgetting that you were surrounded by an army of militiamen,” Ullah added, “and what’s more, you talked your way out by Kano’s account. Solar Exaltations are also divided into five Castes that cover different types of heroism. Dawn Castes are warriors; they excel at might of arms and warfare. Night Castes are spies without peer. Members of the Twilight Caste are inventors, responsible for many of the wonders of the First Age. I am a Zenith Caste, one of the priests of the Unconquered Sun, greatest of the Incarnae. Last but never least is the Eclipse Caste, diplomats capable of forging nations and waging peace. You might have the body of a fighter but you solve problems with a golden tongue, the Unconquered Sun values that ability as much as skill in combat.”

“All right… then what does the Unconquered Sun expect me to do? What’s his angle?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Ullah said with a weary chuckle, “though sometimes I wish it did. It might be nice if he passed down orders and all we had to do was have faith that he knew what was going on. We are entirely self-directed agents… he might give us hints or suggestions through visions on occasion, though mostly it’s more along the lines of pep talks and encouragement. I wasn’t under any compulsion to meet you at the river’s edge, in fact I had no idea why he’d find that particular spot so interesting, but I’ve found that following his advice reaps the best rewards. On the other hand, I’ve got a direct line to him as a Zenith, other castes don’t have to deal with visitations so much. Now, if you’d like to know his motivation for creating us, that’s a much longer and more involved answer.”

“Like you said, we’ve got hours.”

Ullah nodded, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes to compose herself. “The story begins before the First Age when Creation was ruled by the Primordials. The Primordials built Creation as a buffer against their enemies in the Wyld and created the gods to serve them. The greatest of the gods were the Incarnae: The Unconquered Sun, Luna and the Five Maidens, gifted with power equal to the Primordials but placed in subservience as their ultimate weapons against the Raksha. The Incarnae, however, desired what all sentient beings desire: freedom. So it was that the Incarnae joined forces with two of the marginalized Primordials to plot rebellion.

The Incarnae and the rest of the gods were bound so that none of them could attack a Primordial. In conclave, the rebels decided that they would create weapons that would fight the Primordials on their behalf. The end result were the exaltations we know today. The Unconquered Sun has his Solars, Luna has Lunar Exalted, the Maidens of Fate have the Sidereals and Gaia took a different path in empowering the Terrestrial Exalted or Dragonblooded.”

“Wait,” Tetsu interrupted, “you said there were two Primordials; if Gaia was one, who was the other?”

“Autocthon,” Ullah answered, “the Great Maker. As far as I know, he never did create his own Exalted, though I wouldn’t know why. He was the weakest of the Primordials and joined in the rebellion because he was bullied. Legends say that he was never quite right to begin with, so that may have something to do with it too.”

Tetsu nodded. “All right, please continue.”

“Each type of Exalted was divided into Castes, much in the way that you’d divide armies into specialist squads. There were three hundred Solars and Lunars, one hundred or so Sidereals and countless Terrestrials, who were made to be perfect soldiers just as Solars were made to be perfect generals. Lunars are Creation’s staunchest defenders, each Lunar Exaltation was linked to a Solar’s in a spiritual bond that goes beyond natural conceptions of love in order to keep us firmly planted in practicality. The Sidereals managed Fate and advised the Solars in the most auspicious courses of action, earning them the nickname of ‘viziers’. Most records of the war with the Primordials are lost so I can’t give you any details but the upshot was that we won, they lost. The Primordials were maimed and transformed into the beings we now know as the Yozis, imprisoned in Malfeas and bound into servitude. The Exalted went on to pacify Creation and build the utopia of the First Age.”

“Yeah… I’m waiting for you to say ‘but’,” Tetsu informed dryly.

“But,” Ullah rewarded, “it didn’t last. Perhaps it couldn’t have lasted. We became mad with hubris, left high ideals behind and began to abuse Creation to the point where we might have destroyed it. It took millennia by all accounts but perhaps our fall was simply inevitable. After the war, the Incarnae retired to the Games of Divinity which their Primordial masters had once banned them from participating in, leaving Creation in our hands. Our pride eventually became arrogance, decadence and conceit, our actions disgusting the Unconquered Sun so much that he turned away from us. This allowed the Sidereals, who were afraid that we were on the verge of destroying Creation, to manipulate the Terrestrials into siding with them in rebellion. They called it the Usurpation and together they killed every single Solar, caged our exaltations so that they would not be passed on to a new generation of heroes and exiled the Lunars into the Wyld. History was re-written and the Terrestrials inherited Creation as the puppet rulers of the Sidereals. Of course, things rapidly fell apart. The Dragonblooded could never hope to replace us, they don’t have anywhere near our skill at, well, anything, so Creation lurched from disaster to disaster like a drunken teenager. The Great Contagion led to the Balorian Crusade and when the dust settled, we have the Realm we know today that relies on an absent Empress in order to work. Somehow, the Solar Exaltations were released once more into the world and our numbers have been slowly growing despite the Dragonblood’s attempts to destroy us. We may be more skilled but their numbers are practically limitless so we run, we hide and we do what we can from behind the scenes.”

“I see,” Tetsu said noncommittally.

Ullah smiled. “Like I said, I don’t expect you to believe everything I say, I’m confident that you’ll find the truth yourself soon enough. Just do yourself a favour and take my warnings about the Dragonblooded and the Sidereals to heart, you’ll live longer.”

“Actually, I believe most of it, or rather I believe you believe it,” Tetsu informed truthfully, “I’ve always had a knack for reading people and your story’s so unbelievable that it just might be true. The real question is how you know all that? If the Immaculates are suppressing the true history of the world, hypothetically, what makes you so certain of what you claim?”

Considering her answer, she shifted from a kneeling position into a more comfortable recline against the wall with her legs crossed at the ankles. “In my youth, I ran across a group that called themselves ‘The Illuminated’…”

“I know them,” Tetsu interrupted, “ran into them all the time down in Nexus howling a bunch of rot from street corners about ‘shining golden ones’ that would rid the world of poverty and disease and…”

An uncomfortable realization suddenly dawned on Tetsu.

“Yes, they’ve got missionary chapters all over the Scavenger Lands with one eye out for new recruits and the other eye out for loose Solars to drag into the net. The Illuminated are one of the more public faces of the Cult of the Illuminated and yes their dogma is based on the return of the Solars as the rightful rulers of Creation. Of course, it’s just another Sidereal front. You see, not all of the Sidereals see eye to eye on every issue, or perhaps any issue. Up until the Usurpation, they were divided in opinion over whether or not to go through with it; naturally, the side that did won by ruthlessly slaughtering anyone in their way, including brother Sidereals. Memories of such a betrayal die hard within the future hosts of their exaltations, though they lost a lot of ground politically without any Solars around to back up their cause. When the Solars started to come back about five years ago, they built the Cult up as a support group to shelter young Solars from the Wyld Hunt. I was recruited soon after I exalted but I discovered how the Sidereals that are on our side really think of Solars. To the leaders behind the Cult, we’re just more powerful Dragonbloods made to dance as they pull our strings.”

Tetsu’s mind, however, had gone off on a tangent. “Five years ago? I suppose it’s not a coincidence that…”

“…it is about the same time that the Scarlet Empress disappeared,” Ullah finished for him. “And no, I have absolutely no idea what happened to her. As far as I can tell, nobody knows what happened to her.”

At that point, Kano returned with rice and some cold meat along with a jug of water. Tetsu waited for Ullah and Kano to drink before he had a sip, however, the dream still vivid in his mind. “So what’s our next move?” Kano asked enthusiastically.

“Move?” Tetsu asked, slightly perplexed.

Ullah sighed. “We hadn’t gotten around to current events. Greyfalls invaded River’s Bend yesterday morning. There’s a small army pressing the citizens of low town into service fortifying the city led by a circle of five female dragonbloods. They waltzed into Sanejin’s throne room and handed him an ultimatum, they’ve got him by the balls and he knows it. Oh, and there’s some Sidereals in town. I met one spying on Sanejin when I slipped into the brothel and I doubt he was the one that wounded you, which puts at least two in the general vicinity of River’s Bend, which is unusual.”

“Doesn’t make any sense,” Tetsu grumbled, “starting a war with the Confederacy of Rivers is idiotic.”

“What’s the problem?” Kano asked with a shrug. “The dragonbloods have practically owned River’s Bend since before I was born. What’s the problem with making it official?”

Tetsu groaned. “Kano, there’s a world of difference between a few well juiced old farts having it off with some whores and an army camped on your lawn. All Lookshy has to do is divert a contingent down from Nasaru Redoubt, I doubt whatever Greyfalls can muster here will last a few minutes.”

“Lookshy?” Kano asked.

“The Confederacy’s military arm,” Ullah supplied, “they were an old Shogunate Legion that refused to recognize the rule of the Scarlet Empress in the wake of the Balorian Crusade. They’re one of the few armies that have managed to maintain their stockpile of First Age weaponry. The Realm’s tried to conquer the Scavenger Lands a few times but between the gorilla warfare of militias supported by Lookshy’s war machine and external threats to Creation, they’ve never been able to keep a grip on anything they take.”

“I can’t believe you don’t know what Lookshy is,” Tetsu grumbled.

Kano tore a strip of cold meat to shreds between his teeth. “Maybe it’s because I was too busy getting ass raped by Red Wolf to go to school.”

Tetsu sighed. “Speaking of, what’s Red Wolf doing in all of this?”

“Nothing,” Ullah shrugged, “as far as anyone knows, he’s holed up in the old White Crane Dojo and hasn’t come out yet. Personally, I’m willing to bet he’s got some sort of bolt hole in there and is running for the horizon as we speak.”

“You know,” Tetsu mused, “that sounds like a good idea.”

“WHAT?!?!” Kano spluttered.

“Look, kid, River’s Bend is a lost cause,” Tetsu grumbled, knowing what he had to say wasn’t going to sit well. “It’s only a matter of time before Lookshy swoops in and levels the place. Even if that wasn’t true, or they’ve got some plan to appease the Confederacy that will work, look at our assets. We’ve got you, a former child prostitute. We’ve got me, a fledgling Anathema or whatever that has no idea how to use his powers and who has been close to death once already. Ullah, no offence intended, but you could be the Scarlet Empress for all I know. I’m grateful to you for saving my life, so I’m assuming you have the best of intentions but even there, you have to admit the two of us are dead weight in this situation. I barely took out an enlightened mortal, five highly trained dragonblooded soldiers is seriously out of my league.”

“I agree,” Ullah nodded, “right now you’re not much use to me. But I can train you to fight and Kano knows the ground. You’ll be fully healed by sundown, so our enemies only have another day of grace. If we can drive out the dragonbloods, Lookshy will have no reason to invade. Greyfalls will write the whole thing off as a bad investment and blame all their ills on the Anathema as usual. Besides, there’s something more going on around here than just a territorial dispute. We’ve got Ma-Ha-Suchi to the north, the Mask of Winters to the south and the Raksha in the far east, all of which would just love to exploit a crack in Creation’s defences.”

Tetsu groaned. “First dragonlords, now you want me to go up against other Anathema?”

“If we don’t, who will?”

Kano nodded in agreement.

Grimacing, Tetsu sat up slowly. “Look, I’m not saying that we shouldn’t do anything, I’m saying that we shouldn’t pick this fight. Like these Sidereals you were talking about, it’s not in their interest to let the situation get out of hand, let them fix it.”

“How do we know they’re not behind it?” Ullah asked. “River’s Bend might be the sacrificial piece in a much larger game. It’s not like they care if people suffer and die in the process, they all get reincarnated anyway right?”

“Ugh,” Tetsu grunted, “why in all the hells did I have to get saddled with two bleeding hearts? We can’t do any good if we’re dead.”

Enraged, Kano stood up and hurled his bowl against the wall, scattering rice and shards of pottery across the room. “You might not care,” Kano shouted, “but I do! I still have a father in low town! You don’t want to help, fine, do whatever you want. I’m going to save my father!” With that, he stormed out and snapped the screen door shut behind him.

“Why me?” Tetsu asked rhetorically, groaning.

“I think we already covered that part,” Ullah quipped.

“By the way, do you ever have any weird dreams?” Tetsu asked, broaching the subject carefully.

“All the time,” Ullah replied, “it’s usually how the memories of our past lives express themselves. Of course, they get mixed up with actual dreams a lot, which can make for some very weird situations. What did you dream about?”

Inwardly, Tetsu breathed a sigh of relief. “Forget it, it was nothing. I need some fresh air.”

Ullah nodded. “You should be fine as long as you don’t exert yourself. Need a hand up?”

“No,” Tetsu refused, raising himself slowly to his feet.

She looked impressed. “Would you like some company? Keep you out of trouble?”

“Won’t say no,” Tetsu mumbled, hobbling to the screen door that led outside while Ullah followed behind.

The view that greeted Tetsu was a shock. He found himself looking out over hundreds of gravestones, some freshly dug, others old and overgrown. The walls were different from the inside but there was no mistaking them. “Shanku Toyo Graveyard,” Tetsu whispered, “you live here?”

“Shadowlands keep us hidden from Sidereals,” Ullah explained, “and I fill in time suppressing the unquiet dead.”

“So you must know Inkfinger?”

“In passing,” she admitted, “I agreed to let him hunt down his murderer at night, seemed like the decent thing to do.”

“Yeah, with any luck, Bonzo’s rotting in an unmarked grave somewhere,” Tetsu spat as he walked down the veranda, using the railing for support. “How far does the shadowland extend? I’d like to take a look at the city.”

“I can do you one better if you think you can handle some stairs.”

He nodded and let her lead him down a twisting path through the graves to a set of stairs that abutted a watchtower on the north western corner of the wall. “As far as I can tell, this was a small fort during the shogunate,” Ullah explained, “abandoned during the Balorian Crusade. I used to come up here for the river view but it looks like we’ll have to station someone here to watch troop movements now.”

Ascending the staircase was painful but Tetsu endured, taking one step at a time with Ullah supporting one arm. Breathing heavily when they finally arrived, he leant against the balustrade and looked out across the river that sparkled orange in the new dawn light. The docks were crowded with ships, more arriving just as other were leaving. New ships unloaded large stone blocks onto logs that were dragged away by teams of men and horses while Legion soldiers patrolled the banks. In the distance, he could see tall wooden scaffolding being erected against the mountain to connect a series of lifts and pulleys that would move the stone up the mountain.

“Wow,” Tetsu said, impressed, “they got all that done in just a day?”

“Exalted management and organizational skills, military engineers and a little persuasion, take a look,” she explained, handing him a telescopic eyepiece that she retrieved literally from thin air.

Tetsu made a mental note to get her to teach him that trick, it could make stealing things much easier. He forgot all about Exalted miracles (or Anathema heresies), however, when he looked through the eyepiece at the scene across the river. Interspersed through the workers were men with coiled whips who would occasionally whip the more complacent workers when the mood struck them. When one of them collapsed, the overseers would drag them out of the way and dump them, moaning incoherently.

“They’re feeding them an alchemical concoction that increases their stamina,” Ullah explained. “Unfortunately it causes some of them to work themselves close to death. A lot of the workers volunteered just to get out of the mines then discovered that they weren’t going to be paid for their service. When they tried to leave, several of them were killed.”

“That’s not the dragonblood’s style,” Tetsu noted. “They’re Guild men in uniform.”

“I think they’re trying to save their sorcery for more important jobs,” Ullah surmised, “their resources must be limited, there’s only five hundred proper soldiers on the field.”

Tetsu growled.

“You have a problem with the Guild?”

“I did most of my growing up in a poorhouse on the streets of Nexus,” Tetsu grunted, “I ran there after my parents were killed to escape Guild slavers. They couldn’t touch me after that but I saw far too much of the skin trade while I was there.”

“Nexus, huh?” Ullah prompted, intrigued. “Is that where you learnt the gift of the gab?”

“Yeah,” Tetsu admitted. “I ran my first scam there. Nexus runs on trade and trade runs on a loose network of contacts and paperwork. I got a group of kids together and ran messages for a small fee. There’s a little known statute that states that a messenger has the right to refill his canteen with water after delivering a message. The rich folk of Nexus have to import fresh water because the briny sludge that passes for water in the slums is shit. I’d run around between delivery points with a barrel, collecting fresh water from my runners after every job and organizing them so that no single one would visit the same place the same day, then went down and sold it down in the slums. The servants take care of little matters like water distribution, so we never got caught.”

“Why’d you stop?” She asked, curious.

“I moved on to bigger scams. The golden rule of Nexus is that you can get away with almost anything as long as you don’t restrict trade and don’t build up an army inside the city limits, which leaves you a lot of leeway. Most con men in Nexus make the mistake of becoming merchants; it’s the sort of game where only the big fish need apply. Instead, I ran scams that facilitated business, like gambling clubs, entertainment, sports… events that the rich and famous could go to in order to show off and make contacts, even if they lost a little money in the process. As a rule, I kept myself on the small to middle tier; the big boys play too rough and I was content with what I had. It all fell apart because my competition got a little too greedy and corralled all the gladiators in the arena fights. The Emissary decided that one hundred or so trained killers constituted an army and ordered him to unload all of his assets. He argued. The Emissary hung him from a flag pole by his intestines and turned the arena into kindling. When the dust cleared, I was the only one left to fill the power vacuum and the vultures descended to tear me apart. I brokered everything I had for a place on a fast ship to Great Forks and I’ve been running east ever since.”

“That must be a hard life.”

“But at least I’m free,” Tetsu muttered, watching another load of stone arrive at the docks. They stood there for an hour in silence, water lapping against the shore in the distance and the wind rustling the leaves overhead. Finally, Tetsu came to a decision.

“Ullah,” he broached, “what would your training involve?”

#

Leaning against the lip of the communal bath opposite her commander, Sarro stretched out her legs in the deep pool and relaxed. “According to Bonzo, he was approached by recruiters for the All-Seeing Eye soon after joining the White Crane Dojo. They set up several situations to help him rise through the ranks and in return he did a few odd jobs for them and provided information on Red Wolf and White Crane’s movements, playing the two of them off against each other and the Guild. It gets interesting around the time Red Wolf and White Crane set up a scam to make it look like they were at war in a complicated ploy to appease the Guild and Bonzo’s handler cut all ties with him… or maybe he was cut, who knows? Either way, he didn’t receive any orders for a few months then out of the blue he got a mission to kill a scholar called Yun and make it look like White Crane had ordered it. Of course, we already know that Yun was also an agent, which begs the question why would the Eye start eliminating their own agents? Either Yun had gone rogue or Bonzo was being used by someone impersonating the Eye. Of course, as we now know, the whole situation blew way out of proportion due to a series of highly implausible events, so implausible in fact that I doubt that any of them were co-incidence. Also, Yun’s partner remains a loose end in all this, though I’m betting he or she tangled with Sanejin and lost. Yun seemed to be covering the other angles.”

Delani nodded as Sarro broke down the problem, soaping down her long legs. “The important thing is that we can use the threat of Bonzo’s testimony against Sanejin, the Guild and the likes of Nellens Rapik as long as we can keep her alive. If word of the Water of Eternal Perfection and what they were doing with it reaches Greyfalls, the scandal could bring down House Nellens.”

“I agree,” Sarro said. “What’s the word from the others?”

“They left early. Hathor and Misari wanted to make sure the shift change went off without any issues and Agani went off on one of her surprise inspections. Honestly, I think she was going a little stir crazy, you know how Fire Castes can be.”

They were interrupted by a polite knock on the door before the Majordomo entered, his eyes downcast. “Excuse me, milady, but Sanejin, the Boyar of Pristine Vanity, requests and audience.”

“Then I guess I better see him,” Delani muttered, standing to pour cold water over her legs to wash them off, “entertain him in the lounge, I will be out in a few minutes.”

“Yes, milady,” he confirmed before exiting discreetly.

The water caste took a quick dip in the warm pool before drying off quickly with a towel and slipping into a sheer silk robe of blue with embroidered silver dragons. Sarro had to suppress a giggle. “Please tell me you’re not going to see him just wearing that?”

Delani smirked back as she exited. “You’re right; I need a flower in my hair.”

She composed herself as she walked through the halls to the lounge, taking a deep breath before stepping confidently through the doors. “Sanejin, so nice of you to drop by.”

The god stood as she approached and bowed, keeping his composure despite the fact that she was practically naked. “A pleasure as always, Lady Delani,” he greeted gracefully.

“And you are as charming as ever,” she returned the compliment before sitting so her companion could do the same. “Now, what are you here for?”

He chuckled. “Blunt and to the point, I like it. Actually, I am here to offer you a gift. I have around a hundred girls who are… extraneous to the smooth running of my establishment. I’m happy to offer their services to you and your men free of charge.”

“One hundred beautiful women, Sanejin? That’s quite a gift.”

“On the understanding that you give them back,” Sanejin quipped with a smile. “The morale of your men, and of course my good standing with Greyfalls, are of paramount importance to me. I apologize if I offended you on our last meeting but you came as a bit of a shock.”

“No offence taken, I did drop a bit of a bombshell on you, didn’t I?”

“Quite so,” Sanejin agreed. “I’m still surprised that Kitono would make such a move. Nasaru Redoubt is only a stone’s throw away; it will take quite the diplomat to get the Confederation of Rivers to back off.”

“Hopefully it won’t get to that, if we can make River’s Bend into a strong enough fortress by the time Lookshy decides to strike, we can make any attack too expensive to contemplate. River’s Bend doesn’t have any real strategic importance to anyone but Greyfalls, General Kitono’s goal is to prove that it can be done. Even if we can’t conquer the surrounding kingdoms, River’s Bend makes a nice advance outpost.”

Sanejin plucked a grape from the bowl on the table before them and rolled it between his fingers. “You know, I wonder if you’ve considered personally what will happen if it all doesn’t go according to plan?”

Sitting back in her chair, Delani steepled her fingers and crossed her legs. “How do you mean?”

“Far be it for me to speculate on the worst possible scenario for yourself and your friends but it seems to me that if something does go wrong before you can get the fortifications completed, it might be in Kitono’s best interests to leave you out to dry.”

“Was that a threat, Sanejin, or do you doubt my abilities?”

He held up his hands. “Neither, I’m just speculating as an example. Plenty of other things could go wrong, Kitono’s gambit could be discovered by house Nellens and the Thousand Scales could order you to pull out, at which point your career would be in tatters. I only mention it out of a sense of gallantry, even if it’s neither looked for nor asked of, since I have a personal aversion to seeing beautiful, capable, women thrown to the wolves.”

“Interesting as speculation but pointless, we will have the defences ready before it becomes an issue.”

“Even with an Anathema on the loose? I admire your confidence. In either case, I might be in a position to help you.”

“How so?”

“I’m pursuing a line of inquiry that might get Lookshy to back off entirely, however I thought I’d broach the possibility, in case the worst comes to the worst, of you seceding from Greyfalls entirely.”

Delani gave him a stony look. “Are you suggesting that I betray my Empress?”

“An Empress in abstentia,” Sanejin pointed out, “the Realm isn’t really ruled by anyone at the moment is it? Kitono would never have been able to send you here if the Scarlet Empress was on the throne after all. But no, I’m not suggesting you betray the Realm at all. After all, there’s nothing to say that the Scavenger Lands isn’t large enough for two Ream tributary Satrapies is there? Particularly one so small as River’s Bend.”

“I see, you’re suggesting I betray General Kitono and Greyfalls.”

“Only if they stab you in the back first,” he shrugged, “but I am merely putting up the possibility as an option of last resort. What you do is, of course, entirely up to you, I only ask that you heed my words. Now, to change the subject, I have something else to offer you, something more tangible than advice.”

“Go on,” Delani prompted, her voice flinty.

“It occurs to me that I have offered your men a great gift to ease the burden of lonely nights and yet you and your sisters may not be inclined to partake of it. What I can offer to all of you, however, is much more valuable. Tell me, do you know why the Immaculate Order frowns on fraternization between Dragon Lords and the Gods?”

“So that we keep the bloodlines pure and produce superior children that will exalt,” Delani answered by rote, “everyone knows that.”

“Yes, that’s what they say. It happens that it is not only a lie but it is a lie with a concealed agenda. The real reason is that children of the union of Gods and Dragon Lords always exalt.”

Delani snorted. “Oh, come now, that’s patently not the case. If it were, the eugenics program would be forcing us to copulate with deities rather than each other. Why, we’d conquer all of Creation in only a few generations.”

“Which is exactly why nobody in power wants it to happen,” Sanejin retorted shrewdly. “Consider what would happen if every province of the Realm was filled with Dragonbloods. How would it be governed? How would those in power maintain control? I am loathe to admit it but my brothers and sisters are a petty lot, what would stop them from tearing Creation apart in wars between legions of dragonblooded children? The Realm only works because, like the First Age before it, there was a powerful oligarchy at the helm that held all the power with an iron fist.”

For several minutes they sat in silence as Delani started at him. Sanejin waited patiently, popping the grape into his mouth and chewing slowly.

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Delani asked, incredulous.

“Just putting the offer on the table before I leave,” Sanejin replied, standing and bowing, “just consider it, Delani. All of your children, guaranteed to exalt. Please, pass the offer on to the rest of your circle. I hope you have a productive day.”

He bowed again before the Majordomo led him out, leaving Delani to sit stunned in her chair, staring into space.

#

Stepping crisply down the line of men standing at attention, Cathak Agani gave each of them a once over with her steely gaze. Finally, she came to the officer at the end of the line and nodded. “At ease, men.”

They snapped a precise salute and stood at rest. Their officer saluted as she turned her attention to him as protocol demanded. “Ma’am,” he greeted informally.

She gave him the once over too, noting an anomaly. “Nice boots, Sergeant, very nice boots indeed.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, wincing.

“In fact, I don’t think they’re imperial issue footwear at all, are they?”

His men were well disciplined; none of them so much as snickered.

“No, ma’am, I purchased them off a pedlar in low town, ma’am.”

“Purchased? I see,” Agani said knowingly. “Well, there’s no article saying that an officer doesn’t have the right to upgrade his equipment.”

“No, ma’am,” he said with some relief.

“I want to see them. Take them off.”

The Sergeant paused for a moment, trying to think of something to say but he couldn’t raise any objections, so he complied. Removing his left boot, he stood on one leg and held the boot out for inspection.

“Both boots, Sergeant,” Agani commanded.

He seemed to be in visible pain as he lowered his sock-clad foot onto the muddy ground, removed the other boot and placed his dry foot in the mud as well, presenting both boots for inspection.

Agani looked them over and couldn’t hide how impressed she was. The boots were exquisite. “Tell me, Sergeant, where did you… purchase… these boots?”

“From the pedlar in the run down inn over there, ma’am,” he answered, pointing at a decrepit building at the edge of the square.

Nodding, she saluted him. “Thank you, Sergeant. It seems your socks have gotten wet, you have permission to bathe. Dismissed.”

“Ma’am,” he saluted back before organizing his men so that he could was and change his socks. Taking her leave of them, Agani sauntered casually over to the old inn and rapped on the tattered rice paper screen door. An old man opened it a few minutes later, bowing obsequiously.

“Lady, you honour my humble establishment. Please enter and sit down,” he greeted with all possible hospitality.

She wasn’t impressed with the room when she stepped inside. The corners were filthy, the kitchen needed scrubbing and the stench of spilt sake was tangible in the air but it was typical fare for a slum. Three men sat at the tables, staring at each other. One was obviously the humbled pedlar, blonde and handsome despite his well worn clothes. He wore a smile that seemed stamped into his face, much like the statue of a benevolent god. The other two patrons looked a little sour, both dressed in robes common to high town. Both had short dark hair and looked similar enough to be brothers.

“Pardon me, am I interrupting something?” Agani asked, looking for a place to sit that wouldn’t soil her pants but unable to.

“Not at all,” one of the brothers said, “we’re just here to purchase some boots, milady.”

“What a coincidence,” she said, placing one foot on the table in front of the pedlar, “I’m here for exactly the same reason.”

#

Rage vaulted one final copse of trees before landing in the clearing he and Feather had designated as an emergency meeting point. He was going so fast that he had to bound several steps to slow himself down. “Feather?”

A rustling in the bushes made Rage drop into a combat crouch, pulling a bow and arrow out of Elsewhere and aiming it at the offending bush. “I know you’re there, come out now!”

Nothing happened. The bush was still again and Rage couldn’t feel so much as the whisper of a presence anywhere. Something white caught his eye on a stump next to the bush, so he crab walked, staying low to the ground, over to it. It was a piece of paper with writing on it that had been rendered in Feather’s hand.

Focused Rage, it read, I have had an accident while I was in the Temple. Please do not shoot me until I have had a chance to explain. I am waiting behind the bush to your right. Last night, I had an encounter inside the manse with an environmental hazard…

“It has altered my gender?” Rage read out loud, incredulously. “Do you seriously expect me to swallow that?”

It pains me to admit, the letter continued, but I am now female. I am also bound to say, objectively, that I am quite attractive.

“Ok, that does sound like something Feather would write,” Rage muttered.

Furthermore, I believe this is how Sanejin has access to so many beautiful women to act as temple prostitutes. He uses this water to create them. Please, I beg you Rage, for the friendship we share. I have had a harrowing night both recovering from such a traumatic transformation and worrying myself to death over how to deal with your reaction. I know this sounds impossible but I swear by the Five Maidens that it is the absolute truth. I await your mercy, take whatever precaution you feel necessary and call me out once you are ready.

He licked his lips, thinking profusely, trying to see what sort of angle anyone could possibly see to gain in such a wild story. Turning his complete attention to the indicated bush, he held his arrow cocked firmly in place. “All right, whoever you are, I’ve read your letter. Come out where I can see you.”

The bushes rustled as branches parted slowly. First, two soft and dainty hands appeared, almost swallowed up by the too-long sleeves of a man’s dark blue robe. They were followed by slender arms that were likewise hard to make out in the voluminous attire. Rage couldn’t fail to notice, however, the feminine body that followed, shapely enough that it would have stood out swathed in nothing but a burlap sack. The lady’s heart-shaped face, so breathtaking that Rage’s mind automatically appended a noble title to it, was perfect, inset with almond-shaped cobalt blue eyes that were almost hypnotic in their allure. Her hair was the colour of ink and spilled down her back like water, her skin was a perfect pale eastern shade, unblemished.

“All right,” Rage said, trying not to let his nervousness into his voice, “I don’t know what your game is but you can’t be Shining Feather.”

She held out her hands out palm first and spoke in a musical voice. “Rage, I know this seems crazy but I really am Shining Feather. Please, don’t kill me.”

“How by the Green Sun do you think you can prove to me you are who you say you are?” Rage shouted.

“Ask me a question,” Feather implored, “I’ll answer anything you ask.”

“How do I know you’re not some sort of shapeshifting demon that sucked out all of Feather’s memories?” Rage demanded, on the verge of letting the arrow fly.

Feather paused, her mouth opening and closing several times as she tried to come up with an answer. “Ok, you know, I think it’s a good indication of how stupidly paranoid my life has made me that I can’t think of a single way to refute that.”

Staring at her, Rage lowered the bow. “Feather? That’s really you? How in all the names of Malfeas…”

He trailed off when he noticed the tears welling up in her eyes, followed by sobs as all the tension of the last night flowed out of her. Reaching out automatically, he pulled her into an embrace, letting her cry into his shoulder as she clutched his back. Feather let him comfort her, holding onto him as if he were the only rock of sanity in a sea of chaos. He held her until her sobs died down; stroking her hair as he whispered to her that everything would be all right.

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Together, they turned to look for the source of the sound, finding a short woman in a simple purple robe glaring at them with amber eyes. She was cute rather than beautiful, petite and slender with small breasts. Her red hair was tied up into a high ponytail that swept down to her shoulders by a long length of black ribbon that matched the colour of the bracers and belt that clinched her wrists, ankles and waist.

“Rage, darling,” Destined Edge growled at her boyfriend. “You have some explaining to do.”

#

Though the Fate of the River’s Bend was still tangled up like a bowel of pasta, reality was in danger of being sundered by another threat in Shanku Toyo Graveyard; the threat of Tetsu’s expletives tearing a hole into the wyld. The eclipse case leapt out of the circle where he and Ullah sat cross-legged and hopped around rubbing the palms of his hands together as if they had just been dipped in something oily.

“What in the name of all the Yozi’s genitalia was THAT!?!” He shouted, feeling dirty all over.

“Ravaging Blow is your first step on the path of the Dark Messiah Style,” Ullah explained calmly. “Given your physique and the brutality of your preferred methods, this is the best supernatural martial art I know to compliment your fighting style. It is of the Celestial circle and very powerful, if brutal and violent in the extreme. You are learning martial arts, however, and martial arts is the study of doing violence upon another. I know you understand the benefits that a reputation for extreme force can lend to any negotiation.”

Tetsu shivered. “Where did you learn it?”

“I was taught the form during my time with the Illuminated. Sidereals are consummate martial artists that have always studied the forms of their enemies, the so-called Anathema. It was deemed appropriate by the gold faction to pass our arts back to us on our return. Are you ready to continue? We still have much work to do.”

Kano watched from his perch on the veranda, picking at a bowl of rice with his fingers. “I knew you were nothing but a big softy, Tetsu,” he mocked, “oooh, I think we should just run away. Oh, nooooo, I don’t want to hurt anyone…”

Growling, Tetsu’s hands balled up into fists as he glared at the mortal, allowing his rage-stained essence to fill his hand. A casual back-handed strike shattered the three-inch thick tombstone next to him, turning a good portion of the solid rock to dust. Tetsu looked at his hand, wiggling the fingers while Kano gaped. There wasn’t as much as a mark on his knuckles. Ullah looked pleased with herself.

“Right,” Tetsu said, stepping back into the circle and sitting back down, placing his palms on Ullah’s, “I’m ready for the next lesson now.”

Nodding, Ullah intoned the words of the spell yet again and strange motes of light began to flow between them, emerging from her forehead and shooting into Tetsu’s. Kano watched, fascinated by the display of magic, and prayed to all the gods in Heaven that he might be exalted one day.

#

Pausing in the doorway, to a chamber deep below his temple, Sanejin watched as three of his larger brides manhandled one of Red Wolf’s militiamen into one of the many restraining chairs that dotted the cavernous room. Once he was held completely immobile, legs spread, they forced a scissor-like device with a screw mechanism between his teeth that gradually forced his mouth open. Above each chair waited a hanging waterskin with a hose at the bottom that ended in a simple valve. Other devices waited on a nearby table with which to initiate their new sisters.

“Father,” a gorgeous woman with honey blonde hair greeted him. He smiled and kissed her tenderly on the lips. “Meria, I trust they’ll all be ready for tonight?”

“Yes, father, our new sisters are adapting well to their lessons. We left that last one untouched as instructed.”

“Excellent, be sure that I’m not interrupted,” he ordered, stroking her cheek fondly before moving on. The god watched as one of the militiamen strained against his bonds, back arching as new breasts bloomed large on his chest. Another was screaming in pleasure as her sisters inducted her into his service with erotic kisses and probing tongues. Similar sights surrounded him on all sides as more of his former repressors were dragged from cages and strapped into their chairs even as others were led meekly upstairs to continue their training. Eventually, the god arrived at a cell door, wooden with a single shuttered window. Opening it, he slipped into the dark alcove inside that was lit only by a tiny window high above.

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a ring side seat, old boy,” Sanejin drawled, towering over a horrified Red Wolf as the screams of the men, women and men becoming women echoed in the tiny chamber. “Believe me, it’s a wild party out there.”

“Come to gloat?” Red Wolf asked, misery clear in his voice. “Come to see me broken? Well get your fill! Look at me! Laugh! Mock me if you will! Kill me if you must to sate your desire for vengeance, I haven’t the heart to live.”

Sanejin clapped, circling the man as he wallowed on the floor at his feet. “Bravo, a very pretty speech. Unfortunately, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

He struck from behind, grabbing Red Wolf’s chin and forcing his head back, jamming one knee into his back to hold him in place. The god’s strength was indomitable, forcing open Red Wolf’s jaw with one hand as the other pulled a vial of water from his sleeve and poured it into the mortal’s mouth, quickly snapping it shut and closing off his airways to force him to swallow.

The enlightened mortal quivered on the ground as the changes overtook him. Hair grew out in waves, lightening to a bright auburn shade while his skin softened, deepening to a light mocha shade. Cheekbones became more pronounced as his jaw slimmed, making him attractively impish. Though he slimmed down, he remained tall and athletic, though his waist contracted significantly, his butt and chest made up for the loss of weight. When the transformation was done, he was looking down at a beautifully curvaceous and exotic woman with child-baring hips and ample breasts.

Kneeling, he pushed her onto her back and smiled, she looked extremely cute with her eyes screwed up and her face skrinched up the way it was. “Come on, Wolfie, open those eyes and greet the world.”

Squeaking pathetically, she shook her head.

“Have it your way,” he purred, sliding one hand down the collar of her now ill-fitting robe, sliding his fingers down until he had her breast in his hand. She gasped when he squeezed, her eyelids fluttering involuntarily. A single brush of his thumb across her nipple made them fly open, gasping at the pleasurable sensation that arced down her nerves. The moment their eyes me, she was lost, horror and defiance fading to be replaced by overwhelming devotion and love. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her, pulling open her robe so that she could press her naked body against him as their tongues danced together and they lost themselves in the passion of the moment.

She worshiped him for hours on the floor of the cell, wanting nothing more than to please him for the rest of her life.

Chapter 11

The sun was high in the sky by the time Bonzo stirred, tangled up in the bedsheets. She felt miserable, like she’d just arrived back from a three day hike in the mountains despite sleeping half the day away and her head ached. She regretted sitting up almost immediately, acidic bile burning the back of her throat as her vision swam.

She managed to get to her feet and shamble across the room, slipping clumsily into a cotton robe that had been left folded over the back of a chair. She almost stumbled when she opened the door but a guard caught her elbow and held her upright. “Woah there, miss,” he said, “forgive me but you don’t look so good. Maybe you should lie down again.”

Bonzo shook her head, leaning against him for support. “Bathroom,” she groaned, “or get me a bucket.”

“Oh,” he said stupidly, looking up and down the hallway in a state of mild panic.

She got one warning contraction before her stomach decided to empty its contents. Fortunately, she was able to snatch the guard’s helmet off his head before she retched.

#

The last of the leaders of the 4th Dragon of the 23rd Legion looked quite pleased with herself as she strode confidently across the tiled floor towards the table where the rest of them waited patiently. Cathak Agani pulled out her customary seat from the table on Delani’s left and twirled, plopping into the chair and swinging her booted feet up onto the table, crossing them at the ankle as she rested the back of her head in her laced fingers. The others couldn’t help but feel their eyes drawn to her shiny new bright red boots, curiosity quickly turning into envy.

“Nice boots,” Hathor commented.

“Aren’t they?” Agani gushed. “I got them from a pedlar down in low town, seems he’s been bribing officers to keep him out of the work gangs with new boots. Considering his workmanship, though, I can’t fault their judgement; such talent shouldn’t go to waste. Now, did I miss anything?”

“No, we were waiting for you,” Delani mumbled, still running over her encounter with Sanejin in her head. “How is the construction progressing?”

Misari shrugged. “We’re still on schedule, though I’ll be much happier when the airships arrive. No casualties amongst the workforce so far but I fear it’s just a matter of time before one of the slavers pushes them too far.”

“I’m keeping them on a tight leash,” Hathor added, “we’ll meet our deadlines.”

“Patrols report no movement on the outskirts,” Agani injected, “looks like we’ve gotten away with it so far. Of course, the closest villages know to give River’s Bend a wide berth, so visitors should be few and far between.”

“Hmmm,” Delani mused. “I’m afraid that Sarro and I are going to have to ruin the good news. It seems that the assets the All-Seeing Eye had in place to watch the political situation here were isolated and tricked into turning on one another. Normally I wouldn’t be too concerned with the misfortunes of spies except that the lynchpin of our entire plan hinges on the speed of construction. A single saboteur could destroy everything we’re working toward.”

“We have the town locked down,” Hathor stated, “though as Misari says, I’ll be happier once the airships arrive. Until then, there’s not much more we can do other than be on guard and ready to react. Personally, my major concern is the Anathema; it could be anywhere by now.”

“Assuming it survived the landslide,” Sarro said.

“We must assume it did,” Delani interjected. “Never underestimate an Anathema’s power. All of us have to be ready to fight it at any time. If you do encounter the Anathema, your standing orders are to disengage and call for help. I will not tolerate heroics, even if it is only a Deciever. The five of us will confront it together and together we will share in the glory in the name of the 23rd Legion.”

They all nodded sagely but Delani doubted their sincerity. The head of an Anathema was too great a trophy to pass up despite the danger and her officers were impetuous. Sighing inwardly, she said a silent prayer in hope that her fears were unfounded and the creature was indeed destroyed. “Now, there is one last item that we need to cover,” she continued, steeling herself against the storm that she was sure would follow. “Do any of you know of children born of the union of Gods and the Exalted?”

“Aside from me?” Sarro asked. Her four peers turned to stare at her. “What? Didn’t you know my mother was a Forest Nymph?”

“No but it explains a lot,” Hathor grumbled.

Delani considered how she was going to phrase her next question for a moment before deciding to dive right in. “I’ve heard a rumour that children of Gods and the Dragonblooded will always exalt. Is that true?”

She wasn’t very surprised when her question provoked a reaction from each of her circlemates. Hathor snorted derisively, Agani’s eyes narrowed, Sarro looked perplexed and Misari’s eyebrow twitched, which was her equivalent of a mental breakdown.

Sarro took a deep breath before answering. “Not all of them…”

Delani breathed a sigh of relief.

“…the ones that become Anathema don’t exalt as Dragonlords, from what I understand, but yes the rest always do. I thought everyone knew that.”

“Bite your tongue, Outcaste,” Hathor hissed. “You’re edging dangerously close to heresy.”

Sarro looked taken aback. “I didn’t mean to cause offence, it’s just a fact. Mother was always disappointed that I wouldn’t ever be able to follow in her footsteps and ascend the though the ranks of the Elemental Courts.”

“It’s not heresy, per se,” Agani said, interrupting Hathor before she tried shouting the rest down, “the Order doesn’t forbid dalliances with the divinities, particularly when you consider the possible ramifications of denying a Celestial God. Marriage has been sanctioned if the couple is well connected politically; I seem to remember a bit of a scandal involving twin sisters that became Anathema in the Thorns area just after we lost the city who were the product of such a union. Of course, the Goddess in question crushed the up swell of resentment that followed.”

Everyone was stunned when Misari raised her hand, the usually placid girl hardly ever speaking unless she was asked a direct question. “If I may, Delani, what prompted you to ask?” The air caste queried in her usual soft spoken manner.

“Sanejin,” Delani answered. “He offered to help us fulfil our duty to the Realm by providing heirs that are guaranteed to exalt.”

Hathor slumped back into her chair, her face echoing the other girl’s stunned expressions. Misari gripped the earth caste’s hand tightly, looking for the mutual reassurance of avowed lovers. Despite the fact that the two were inseparable, the Realm’s eugenics program ensured that they were also engaged to two, no doubt worthy, men with whom they were expected (or rather ordered) to procreate.

“True or not, Sanejin must be working some sort of angle with an offer like that,” Agani posited. “It’s the sort of offer that falls into the ‘too good to be true’ category.”

“Further, it’s the sort of offer we can’t refuse,” Hathor whispered. “When my elder sister didn’t exalt, she was forced into an arranged marriage with a drunken northern barbarian that had her garrotted when she became infertile after miscarrying her first child. If you think for a moment I’ll allow any of my children to suffer the same fate, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Standing, Delani circled her chair, resting both hands on the back both to lend weight to her words and provide her some cover if the next step didn’t go as well as she hoped it would. “We have to consider all the possible outcomes of this endeavour. Even if we succeed in holding River’s Bend, it’s likely that Lookshy will put us under siege. I fear that in his eagerness, General Kitono has blundered. Naturally, I will follow his orders to the letter as a loyal servant of the Realm and yet I also have a duty to the Realm beyond loyalty to my superior. It was understood from the very beginning that any hope for true victory here would rely on successful diplomacy... on the other hand I also fear that we’ve been used as an excuse for General Kitono to start the war he’s been perusing politically for years. We have been promised reinforcements if Lookshy attacks… what happens if those reinforcements become politically inconvenient?”

Sarro shook her head. “Surely too much has been committed to this action to simply let it wither on the vine? Besides, we were specifically ordered not to look into the Great House’s dealings in River’s Bend to prevent a scandal, if Lookshy pacifies the territory the Confederation might even be able to influence the succession.”

“It might not even get that far, House Cathak’s investment in River’s Bend is relatively minor,” Agani mused. “If Kitono broke the scandal himself, however, he might get enough support to depose the Satrap and take control of Greyfalls. Compared to that victory, I think the loss of a few hundred mortal soldiers and a handful of Dragonbloods would be deemed minor. Most of the Lords that visit Sanejin’s palace are members of the Thousand Scales, not warriors that Kitono respects. And you’ll pardon me for saying this, but two of us are Outcastes and I have disgraced myself once already, so his real net loss is two officers.”

Agani kept the fact that Delani’s ambition was well known in the 23rd Legion and that Kitono might not mind if she were to die in the field to herself. Just because she left it unspoken, however, didn’t mean that the possibility was lost on her peers.

“Which means that the survival of the 6th Dragon, the fate of Greyfalls and the ascendancy of the Realm in the East might just be decided in this room, right now,” Delani intoned, trying to led as much gravitas to her voice as possible. “After thinking it through, I feel that this is the only scenario that makes sense. Military victory here is only viable in the short term; the best we can hope for is that diplomacy stalls our withdrawal for a decade or two. Political victory gains Cathak Kitono the largest Satrapy in the East, if not Creation. Kitono is, however, the only beneficiary of such a victory, not matter how much he might justify it to himself. The fall of a Great House is not in the best interests of the Realm in such a volatile environment, with threats looming from all sides. Moreover, even if we complete the fortifications, how long can we really stand against Lookshy’s Shogunate era arsenal? I doubt Kitono expects us to; in fact breaking the scandal might be easier if we were eliminated from the picture. What I propose to you all galls me but it might be the only way to defend the 6th Dragon and the Realm from ourselves. I propose that we secede from Greyfalls and make River’s Bend a satellite city-state with the complicity of House Nellens. By becoming part of the Confederation of Rivers, we can prevent Lookshy from crushing us like a bug and proceed to expand our territory. With Sanejin’s aid, the nation we build could field enough dragonblooded warriors to conquer the Scavenger Lands in the name of the Empress. What say you all?”

Silence stretched as each of them considered their answers. Sarro was the first to speak, shrugging. “I’m an Outcaste anyway, if it all goes horribly wrong I can always go back home. On the other hand, I like the idea of being a queen, I’m in.”

Hathor looked to Misari, who gave her a short nod. “We’re in,” Hathor mumbled. “I don’t like betraying my House, even for a moment, but as long as we ultimately serve the Empress and Misari and I can be together I will do whatever I must. I trust you, commander.”

“Sounds like fun,” Agani quipped, remaining relaxed with her feet on the table, “I’m in, particularly if it means I don’t have to listen to the orders of incompetent old farts anymore.”

“Then the decision is unanimous,” Delani stated with grim finality.

#

“Darling,” Focused Rage, Chosen of Battles, master of warfare and a swordsman without peer begged from his position hanging upside down from one foot tied to a high tree branch, “can we please discuss this? It’s really not what you think.”

Destined Edge, Chosen of Endings, glared menacingly as she tied off the rope that was holding her boyfriend aloft, remaining frighteningly silent. Feeling self-conscious, Feather crossed her arms over her prominent chest and tried desperately to stop blushing like a virgin caught having it away in a hayloft by her father. She opened her mouth to speak in her partner’s defence several times but couldn’t formulate a sentence that would exonerate them. They’d never met before, after all, though Rage had spoken of her on occasion, but Feather knew with absolute certainty that she would never believe who she really was.

Finishing the complex knot that would hold her lover in place, Edge span to face Feather, levelling an accusatory finger in the Chosen of Serenity’s direction. “Shining Feather! Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier.”

Feather blinked. “What? You know who I am?”

“Naturally, you are currently the only other member of my dear Rage’s circle and, according to him, his best friend.”

“Oh, thank the Maidens,” Feather rejoiced, breathing a sigh of relief, “and here I was thinking that I’d never be able to explain myself.”

“No explanation necessary,” Edge said, flicking her long ponytail over her shoulder dismissively, “my Rage would be quite the catch for any woman, so your attraction is understandable. I would have insisted on meeting you much earlier than this except my wayward lover assured me that you were a man.”

Silence stretched as Feather stared at the other woman incredulously. Rage held his face in his hands and prayed. “You thought…”

“Yes I know,” Edge cut feather off with an annoying, high pitched, laugh, “I hardly believe any man could have such an effeminate name but when your chosen one swears upon the heavens, a dutiful fiancée should be inclined to believe him, don’t you agree? Foolish and romantic of me, I know.”

“Effeminate?” Feather repeated in disbelief, feeling her eyebrow start to twitch.

“Of course! Could you imagine what a man with such a name would be like? A real sissy, I bet, just an ineffectual mother’s boy!”

“Ineffectual?” She repeated again through gritted teeth.

“Indeed, probably neutered at birth. As you are a woman, however, I cannot forgive this transgression. Focused Rage is MINE. Our fates are entwined and I am ready to prove it on the field of battle at a moment’s notice. I acknowledge that you may lay as strong a claim to him as my own but I will NEVER relinquish him willingly. You have won the first round in this romantic triangle but I vow here and now that I will steal him back from your libidinous temptations and take him once more unto my bosom!”

“Honey,” Rage interjected, trying to diffuse the situation as he watched Feather’s face grow darker with every word from his fiancée’s lips, “I wasn’t lying. Feather was a man until this morning; he got turned into a woman against his will!”

“HA!” Edge snapped. “You would say anything to appease me! But really, you ought to come up with a much more believable story than that, you debased ruffian! I have punishments in mind for you that would make Desus cringe! To think you would run off to the far corners of creation with this common floozy!”

“Common… floozy?” Feather whispered. From his vantage point, Rage couldn’t tell if it was just a trick of the light or if the Chosen of Serenity’s eyes were really glowing in anger a moment before she screamed. “FLOOZY!?! Why don’t you go slit your wrists, you death-obsessed, flat-chested slut! Everyone in Yu Shan knows you spread your legs for Five Days Darkness when you got drunk last Calibration!”

Edge looked panicked. “Th-that’s a LIE! A thrice-damned dirty LIE! I lost a bet with Plentethemon! Venus spiked my drink! It was a Lunar shapechanged to look like me anyway, honest!”

“Besides,” Feather continued, slipping a fan out of her sleeve and opening it dramatically as she sashayed over to Edge, “why would Rage go for a sapling like you when he could have the willow in full bloom?”

“FEATHER!” Rage protested at full volume.

He was too late. The girl’s eyes locked, Feather looking down on Edge over her deceptively delicate war fan as they shared their sudden mutual hatred through the medium of eye contact. Things got serious when the sigils of their exaltations started to glow on their foreheads, their opposing essences flaring out into spectral images behind them. Feather’s anima, a sapphire noblewoman with an enormous brush, snarled at the shrouded violet figure whose tattered robes fluttered in a spectral breeze.

Before things could get serious, Rage summoned his Daiklave from Elsewhere and cut the rope holding his foot. Before so much as gravity could assert itself, however, two more ropes appeared out of nowhere to bind one hand and foot. Cutting another caused four more to ensnare all his limbs, immobilizing him. “In the name of everything that’s holy, will the two of you stop behaving like teen… wait… you slept with Five Days Darkness?”

Edge’s anima was suddenly sucked back into her as she blushed in shame. “Honey,” she said gently as she turned around, using a mollifying tone, “you know how those parties get once the gods of the four seasons go into full swing. Besides, I still think someone used Cash and Murder Games on me.” She glared over her shoulder at Feather.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Feather scoffed, “I didn’t do it.”

“But it’s a Serenity charm! Besides, maybe you were trying to embarrass me to get rid of the competition!”

“Oh, please, like I’d be threatened by a pipsqueak like you.”

“ENOUGH!” Rage ordered, which was hard to pull off bound upside down by his arms and legs. “Honey, he may not be acting like it right now but he was really a man this morning. He was investigating a manse that must have some sort of essence twisting side effect, you can see for yourself if you want. Feather… what in all the names of Malfeas! You’re acting like a spoilt Dynast bitch!”

Feather turned away in a huff. “She insulted me first.”

“Oh, yeah?” Edge snarled, turning on her boyfriend. “What was she doing in your arms then? Explain that.”

“Oh, come on Edge, he’d just been transformed against his will, I’d come in a hair’s breadth of shooting her. When the tension broke, she started crying and I was just so shocked… it seemed like the thing to do. Now can you please nullify your charm so I can get down from here?”

Removing a hairpin, Edge threw it at the knot she’d made to tether Rage to the ground, severing the rope and embedding the sliver or metal an inch into the tree behind it. Freed, Rage flipped over in mid air and landed lightly on his feet. “Thank you, dear, by the way nice trick.”

She turned away from him. “Don’t think you’re out of the doghouse yet.”

“Oh, for the love of… darling, I understand the whole thing with Five Day’s Darkness, really. Calibration parties do get wild, godlings and exalted play fast and loose with people’s free will when they’re not inebriated and it’s not like we’ve taken a vow of chastity or anything. All I did was hug a scared friend, that’s all.”

“Humph!” Edge rebuked eloquently, turning her nose up at him.

Rage started rubbing his eyes, feeling a headache coming on. “And Feather… could you please explain to me exactly what was going through your head?”

Feather scowled. “She started it. Besides, even though there isn’t anything between us, she thought she could steal you from me.”

“What?” Rage asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I don’t care who she thinks she is; nobody just waltzes in thinking they can take things they think are mine, even if they’re not mine. It sets a bad precedent.”

Edge looked thoughtful. “Oh, that actually makes a lot of sense.”

Holding his face in his hands once more, Rage despaired. “Is there something about breasts that make people crazy?” When he looked back up, they were both glaring at him. “What?”

#

“Time for a break, I think,” Ullah observed dryly, staring up at the sky from where she’d collapsed after finishing the last lesson. Tetsu was in worse shape, curled up just outside the circle, groaning. “Kano, could you please bring me the jars from the closet in the main room? There’s a few of them and they are fragile, so be careful and make several trips.”

Nodding, Kano scampered inside, returning a minute later holding two clay pots with a perplexed look on his face. “They look more like urns than pots.”

“They are urns,” Ullah confirmed, “just put them down next to me.”

Complying nervously, Kano backed away hastily. “They’re not… dangerous, right? I mean, aren’t they supposed to be in the ground or something?”

Ullah shook her head. “Don’t worry, there aren’t any ghosts attached to these remains. They do, however, allow me to store essence for emergencies. Three more should do it, Kano, if you please.”

Kano left as Ullah placed her hand on one of the urns, drawing out a strange blue aura that crawled up her arm and into her body. Once the stored essence was depleted, she moved onto the next urn, gradually replenishing her strength.

“This is the easy way?” Tetsu complained. “My skull feels like its splitting open.”

“Less easy than it is fast,” Ullah corrected, “it’d take months to train you without using sorcery and you need to be brought up to speed as quickly as possible. Let me be clear, however, what I’m teaching you isn’t about to make you invincible; powerful, certainly, but there’s a lot of beings out there that have been at this much longer than you have, especially the Sidereals.”

“I’m used to being the underdog,” Tetsu replied, “it’s when I’m at my most dangerous.”

“Pardon?”

“The problem with having power is that it makes things more complicated than they should be. Sure, if an enemy rushes in headlong at you it’s a simple matter to crush them like a bug. That’s where the problem starts and where idiotic bullies all over Creation make their first mistake. It’s why you hear all the whinging about fair fights when you’ve got them squirming on the end of your hook. Oh, come out into the open where I have the advantage and can win easily… it just shows how pathetic they really are on the inside. When your tools are limited it forces you to make the most of everything you have. Assuming a certain level of competency, this leads to the formulation of tighter, better, plans. Every battle I’ve ever won, everything I’ve ever earned for myself, can be attributed to this one axiom. I don’t need a sledgehammer when a needle will do the same job.”

“So what do you do if the enemy has both power and finesse?”

“Pray they can’t run faster than you.”

After a moment, Ullah burst into laughter. “At least it’s good to know our current methods meet with your approval. It seems like all I’ve been doing for the last five years is running and hiding.”

“I thought you said we were the most powerful of the Exalted? Surely after five years of training you’d be a match for these Sidereals?”

“Sidereals live for thousands of years, a few still remember the Usurpation and the height of the First Age. They still have access to our technology and they can control Fate itself. If that wasn’t bad enough, every single one is a peerless martial artist and they control both the Dragonblooded and the Realm. Five years? We’ll need at least five hundred to even compete on that level.”

“Wait, if they control Fate, how do we even stand a chance? They’d have to know everything that’s going to happen, wouldn’t they?”

“From what I understand, it’s not quite that simple. To manipulate fate, the Sidereals have to read and interpret the Loom, which is constantly changing as the gods, attendant spirits and the Sidereals tinker to better bring about their goals. In addition, essence workings and charms alter the Loom, often necessitating corrections by the Pattern Spiders that tend to it. Shadowlands and the Wyld also exist outside of Fate, so there are blank spots that can’t be seen. Raksha and Ghosts also aren’t bound by Fate, so their actions in Creation disrupt the Loom. That’s why I keep to Shadowlands like this place or even Wyld zones, they can’t find us here.”

“Unless, of course, they come to look for themselves,” a new voice observed, echoing strangely through the graveyard.

Tetsu immediately jumped to his feet, automatically assuming a stance that was at once new yet familiar, ingrained in his psyche by Ullah’s sorcery. “Show yourself and state your intentions!”

After a moment, Mamo hopped up onto the nearby wall from the other side, holding his hands out from his body in a peaceful gesture. “If I wanted to attack you, I wouldn’t have announced myself like that. Though I have to admit, it took me all morning to find you. Anathema must be like socks, always in the last place you look.”

Sitting up and crossing her legs, Ullah remained nonchalant and relaxed. “Is this the one who attacked you, Tetsu?”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head without letting his eyes off Mamo. “I’ve met this one before, though, he’s Red Wolf’s boy-toy, Mamo.”

“Not any more,” Mamo informed, hopping down to engage them on equal terms, “Master Sanejin no longer needs me to fulfil that role, Red Wolf is long gone.”

Ullah raised one eyebrow. “So you’re Sanejin’s spy?”

“I guess you could call me that,” Mamo mused, “though I prefer to think of myself as father’s right hand man.”

“Sanejin’s your father?” Tetsu asked, his eyes narrowing. “And he gave you over to a pervert?”

Mamo waved Tetsu’s comment away as if it were a bothersome fly. “Everyone’s a whore, Tetsu, what really matters is what we sell ourselves for. Father needed someone he could trust to watch Red Wolf and I am the only person in Creation whose loyalty to him is assured. I went to Red Wolf willingly, knowing exactly what was in store. It wasn’t always unpleasant; as I’m sure Kano there will agree.”

Risking a glance over his shoulder, Tetsu saw Kano standing in the doorway behind him trying to juggle three urns at once while glaring hatefully at their visitor.

“Kano,” Ullah said in a commanding tone, “bring those over here and put them down next to me. You will not drop them.”

Deciding wisely not to test the implied threat in Ullah’s voice, Kano turned away from his nemesis in a huff and did as ordered.

“If it’s any consolation, I did hate Red Wolf; lording over those weaker than him, grovelling to the more powerful. If it hadn’t been for Kano and I, others would have suffered more. Most of all, I loathed the way he treated my father, forcing him to do such horrible things. However, vengeance is sweet and we have you to thank for his ruin, Tetsu.”

“Me?” Tetsu asked, blinking.

“Of course,” Mamo affirmed, smiling, “don’t forget, I watched you demolish Red Wolf’s mansion, fend off more than a hundred men and slay White Crane; and all that after talking them out of killing you and pinning the blame for everything on Bonzo. I was also honoured to witness your exaltation, father was quite jealous.”

“I would have thought that sort of thing would make the gods nervous.”

“Some. The Solar Exalted still have many friends in Yu Shan and beyond, my father included.” Mamo crossed his slender arms and leant against one of the tombstones, relaxed as if he were on an afternoon’s stroll. “Gods are, by nature, immortal. The Terrestrial Gods chafe under the Immaculate Order and the Celestial Gods have never forgiven the Sidereals for the Usurpation and all the misery that followed after. The Unconquered Sun is all but forgotten along with the glories of the First Age. Creation is beset by dangers on all sides. We need every Solar, now more than ever. I am here to make you an offer of protection under my father’s wing. The Palace of Eternal Perfection can hide you from the Sidereals and provide you anything you require. In sort, Prince of the Earth, will you stand and fight with us?”

“You’re going after the dragonblooded?” Tetsu asked, caught off guard.

“Obliquely, yes. Father bowed to petty tyrants before, Delani and her circle are no different, or maybe worse. General Cathak Kitono is trying to start another war with the Hundred Kingdoms for reasons we can’t fathom. The Legion will be accepting tribute in the form of women starting tonight, women father feels beholden to save from a life of meaningless servitude.”

“Women Sanejin whores off anyway,” Tetsu snorted.

“Please, don’t mistake grudging necessity for willingness. We hate what the temple has become. Our house was once a place of unfettered love and willing devotion. We are but shadows of what was lost to tyranny but you have given us a chance to reclaim our pride! Please, Tetsu, you’re our only hope.”

Straightening up, Tetsu spat at the ground. “So your daft idea is to hide me from the dragonblooded in the middle of a brothel full of dragonblooded? Are you insane?”

“There’s a fine line between genius and insanity,” Mamo countered. “You are the only real threat to taking River’s Bend; everyone with their ears to the ground knows it. Unlike Red Wolf, you’re still in town, which means something. The Legion is busy right now but you can mark my words that their patrols will fan out ever wider and a shadowland like this will look mighty suspicious. Why not hide in the very last place they’ll look for you? All we ask is that you give us a chance to earn your trust.”

A long silence stretched out as Tetsu stared down at the smaller, more effeminate, man. Resolute, neither of them was willing to move or speak while Kano had no idea how to interject without looking awkward and Ullah simply remained unconcerned and aloof. Finally, Mamo took a step back, nodding cautiously before hopping back over the wall and out of sight.

Kano breathed a sigh of relief. “What the hell was that all about?”

“Neither of us had any more to say,” Tetsu answered with a shrug, “he made his pitch, now it’s down to us to make a decision. Personally, I was done talking.”

“Oh, I see,” Kano mused, “I’m glad we’re not accepting his offer, kid gives me the creeps.”

“What are you talking about? We’re moving into the Palace of Eternal Perfection tonight.”

Feeling a headache starting to come on, Kano rubbed his temples. “I thought you said that we’d have to be insane to hide in the middle of the enemy camp?”

“Never appear too eager. Besides, I believe there’s a charming eastern expression about being crazy like a fox. Not only do we have a nice base of operations in the temple that’s central to the action, Mamo was right in that it’ll be the last place they look for Anathema. As an added bonus, we get to keep a close eye on Sanejin at the same time.”

“Do you really trust Sanejin not to spike your water?” Ullah interjected.

“What would he gain from that?” Tetsu countered, shivering as the memory of his nightmare came to the fore. “He’s already got a small army of concubines and besides, if the Dragonbloods catch us with him it would mean his head. On top of that, Mamo was being straight with us as far as I could tell, or at least not totally dishonest.”

“That just means that Mamo believes what he said, Sanejin could have lied to him,” Ullah rebutted. “On the other hand, we have too much to gain to refuse the invitation.”

“We?” Tetsu asked pointedly.

“Well, not me personally,” Ullah answered with a shrug. “I have my own lines of enquiry to pursue and we’d just get in each other’s way anyhow. And if it turns out that Sanejin isn’t being straight with us, you’ll have somewhere to run.”

“Your own lines of enquiry?” Tetsu probed.

Ullah shrugged again. “I’ve developed links to the Confederacy of Rivers over the last few years. If I can get in touch with my contacts I might be able to prevent Lookshy from acting precipitously. All that can wait until tomorrow, however. We still have lessons to finish.”

Sighing, Tetsu nodded and sat back down in the circle, steeling himself against the rigors to come.

#

“No fever?” Sarro asked, placing her hand on Bonzo’s forehead.

“I… feel a little warm,” Bonzo admitted but neglected to mention that it was Sarro’s presence that was making her flushed. The wood caste was all woman, athletic and curvaceous from near constant training, her skin tanned yet still soft. Beside her, Bonso felt like a toothpick, her new body beautiful yet tender. It was hard for her not to think about Sarro and everything they’d done together the night before when the dragonblood wasn’t around, with her so close it was all Bonzo could do to keep her legs together.

“Give me your wrist,” Sarro ordered. Bonzo complied willingly, allowing the woman to press her thumb down firmly on the vein. Bonzo felt her heart skip a beat when Sarro suddenly frowned. “And you say you’ve been nauseous all morning, are there any other symptoms?”

“Just a bit tired and hungry,” Bonzo admitted, “even though I can’t seem to keep anything down.”

Sarro’s frown deepened, worrying Bonzo still further. “Lie down on the couch and open your robe.”

Blushing furiously, Bonzo glanced at the guards at the entrance. “Uh, right now?”

“Not for that,” Sarro said, chuckling, “I want to check your stomach.”

Disappointed, Bonzo did as instructed, though Sarro smirked at the girl’s disheartened look. The dragonblood admired Bonzo’s body as she lay bare before her, allowing her hands to glide over the milky white skin a little more than was necessary as she did her duty as a medic. “Tell me if this hurts,” she instructed as her fingers probed Bonzo’s flat abdomen. Jumping slightly, Bonzo hissed almost immediately. “Pain?” Sarro enquired.

“No,” Bonzo said, shivering, “it… it was like something twitched.”

Frowning again, Sarro moved her hands up Bonzo’s body and prodded her breast.

“OW! HEY!” Bonzo protested, flinching as she batted Sarro’s hand away, quickly crossing her arms to shield herself from further probes, her face scarlet. “That really hurt! Don’t poke them that hard!”

“I didn’t poke them hard at all,” Sarro muttered. Reaching out, she pulled Bonzo’s arms apart and pulled her robe back into place before taking the girl’s hands in hers. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Bonzo. I know you were a man not two days ago, so this is going to come as a shock.”

Bonzo gulped. “Wh-what? D-did I catch something when that… that… corpse…”

“In a manner of speaking,” Sarro sighed, internally debating the wisdom of what she was about to tell the new girl. “Ghosts are known to have their own magic, much like the dragonblooded. It’s one of the reasons they pose such a threat to the Realm and Creation as a whole, though they are nowhere near as powerful as the Anathema on the whole. Dear, one of those charms allows a ghost to make a girl pregnant without sexual intercourse.”

Blinking stupidly, Bonzo’s brain refused to put two and two together to get the answer four. It was almost as if what Sarro was saying was so impossible that logic and reason rebelled against itself to prevent her from realizing what was being said.

“Bonzo,” Sara said directly, “you’re pregnant.”

As the direct statement of face cut its way through Bonzo’s state of denial, she slowly shook her head in defiance. “No. No I’m not. I can’t be. I can’t be. I can’t be.”

Pulling Bonzo into her arms, Sarro gripped the girl tightly as her words degenerated into tears and wailing sobs.

#

“As you may have heard already, Sanejin is supplying us with entertainment,” Agani said, addressing her officers from the command tent in the middle of Low Town. There were a few shared smiles and some murmurs of eagerness amongst the crowd in response. “Yes, I know it’s all very exciting but we can’t let the god’s decadence lull us into complacency. Furthermore, we are only being supplied with around a hundred camp followers, which means there won’t be enough to go around every night. To this end, I’ve constructed a roster so that we can rotate all the men through efficiently. In addition, I want it clear that I’ll be punishing the slightest infraction of discipline with suspension of leave.”

The Dragonlord paused to allow that to sink into her audience, meeting several gazes until she felt that the seriousness of her threat had sunk in before softening her voice. “I’m sure we will all appreciate some relaxation in these troubled times, of course. However, we cannot tolerate lax behaviour. Until the walls are constructed, we are still vulnerable. I expect the very best from you all.”

“Ma’am,” one of the officers interrupted, “where will Sanejin’s… temple maidens be secured?”

“They’re taking residence in the White Crane Dojo, by all accounts the former occupants slipped away before we gained total control of the city. The building is well inside our perimeter, so regular patrols should be sufficient.”

A female officer raised her hand. “Not that I’m adverse to a little fun but are all of Sanejin’s whores female? Pardon my bluntness but I prefer masculine company.”

“Can I volunteer?” Another male officer quipped, earning a few chuckles.

“It is my understanding that Sanejin employs a few male prostitutes and that a limited number of them will be made available,” Agani explained, “though you might want to reserve judgement until you’ve seen some of the women. Say what you will about him but the god certainly has exquisite taste. Until then, I need you all to follow Lady Hathor’s instructions to the letter, we cannot afford any delay. Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they answered in unison.

“Outstanding, you’re all dismissed.”

#

Scratching the back of his head, Menji watched as the strange trio that occupied his table stared at each other without saying a word as they had all morning. The pedlar had the same saintly smile on his face, though he’d been holding onto the expression for so long it now made him look like a cat that had fallen into a tub of cream. The brothers were equally strange, though both of their reactions were different. The one on the left gave the pedlar a constant flat stare, giving the impression that he was unimpressed. The other glared intensely across the table, becoming more agitated as the day wore on. The only time any of them spoke was to ask for more sake when their bottle was empty, which was enough to keep Menji from throwing them all out.

When lunch rolled around, Menji patiently cooked the rice, heaping it into a large bowl and placing it on the table between the silent guests along with empty bowls and a set of chopsticks to go with each. Once they started eating, the old man sat with them and grunted. “You three are going to spoil my appetite,” he grumbled, wiggling his toes in his lovely new sandals to try and comfort himself. They ignored him, continuing to stare at each other.

Growling at their disrespect, he scooped some of the rice into an empty bowl and chewed on the rubbery grains excessively. “If you’re going to fight, take it somewhere else, I don’t need a bunch of Exalted tearing up my place of business.”

It took a moment for what he said to sink in. Slowly, all three faces turned to stare at him, though each now wore an identical expression of disbelief.

“Oh, NOW you pay attention to the decrepit old man,” Menji snarled, turning to spit onto the floor. “I wondered how long it would take for the vultures to start circling, though I have to admit you’re here a few days ahead of my estimates.”

“What makes you think we’re dragonbloods?” The brother closest to Menji, the one that had been glaring, demanded.

“I don’t think you’re dragon lords at all, Lunar,” Menji answered calmly, “you’ve got a few feathers in your hair, so don’t bother denying it. Your companion’s nails are also blue.”

Recovering from his surprise quickly, the pedlar resumed his beatific smile. “I’m sorry, sir, but I’m not a Lunar at all.”

“That’s because you’re a Solar,” Menji stated plainly, “these two have been trying to gauge your strength all morning to figure out if they can take you down because they think you’re here to claim the manse on top of the hill. Now, I don’t particularly care why you’re here but if you all are going to fight, I’ll kindly ask you to take it elsewhere and leave an old man in peace.”

Stunned, the pedlar turned to look back at the brothers as Menji took up his bowl again and continued to eat. “Is that what the two of you are really after?”

They glanced at each other before nodding in unison. “Yes,” the calmer one admitted.

The pedlar breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Unconquered Sun. As far as I’m concerned you can have the manse, that’s not why I’m here at all.”

The tension in the room faded all at once as everyone relaxed. The three young Exalted hid their embarrassment by taking up their own bowls and eating the chewy rice in silence for a time. When they were finally sated, the angrier brother decided to speak.

“I am Valdis Eyebiter,” he introduced himself, “and this is my companion Kamaria Clearwater. Pardon the deception but these are not our true forms.”

The pedlar nodded. “Aten Drassilson, Twilight Caste. It is fortuitous that we have crossed paths, my companions have sought shelter with the Silver Pact.”

The lunars glanced at each other. “With which elder?” Kamaria asked.

“Adra Bloodmoon, she claims territory across Rock River.”

Valdis nodded. “We know Elder Bloodmoon, though we feared you spoke of Ma-Ha-Suchi. While he is a respected elder, outsiders would not be welcome in his fortress.”

“Yes, Adra warned us that he had quite a violent reputation even amongst his peers, though he’s already notorious in Greyfalls and the Hundred Kingdoms. We’ve been giving him a lot of latitude. I take it that means you aren’t working for him?”

“Much honour would go to a circle that reclaimed a lunar manse for the Silver Pact,” Kamaria explained, “this manse, however, is particularly sacred. Before we change the topic to something I have a burning curiosity about, what are your own intentions if you’re not here to claim the manse for yourself?”

“I’m looking for someone,” Aten said seriously. “Several days ago, a friend of my circle was killed with some kind of sorcery, a spell so foul that it polluted the essence of everything it touched. After his death, however, someone looted and buried his corpse. I tracked this man here to River’s Bend and intended to begin searching in earnest today… until the two of you turned up.”

“This man wouldn’t happen to have taken a green jadesteel daiklave by any chance?” Menji asked.

Aten turned to stare at the old man again in astonishment.

“Heh, I thought so. The man you’re looking for is called Tetsu and I’d take it as a favour if you leave him in one piece. He walked right on into this town pretending to be a dragonblood, throwing that daiklave around like child’s toy. Three days later he’d cut this town’s problems in half, quite literally, before exalting as an Eclipse Caste. Never thought I’d see the likes of that again.”

“Which brings me to my burning question,” Kamaria growled, “who the hell are you, old man? And how, by the goddess, do you know all of this?”

“My name is Menji,” he answered, “and I am the true City Father of River’s Bend.”

#

Far away in a clearing outside of town, two women sipped tea around a campfire while their male companion nursed a black eye. He glared at his formerly male friend every now and again with his other eye, grumbling under his breath as Edge fussed over applying ointment to the wound.

“What?” Feather snapped at him from her seat on an old tree stump.

“Sorry, dear,” Edge apologized before giving her lover the bad news, “but all things considered you did kind of deserve that.”

Rage winced as the petite redhead applied the stinging ointment. “All right,” he grumbled, “we’ve got more important things to discuss anyway. Not that I’m not glad to see you, Edge, but what in the name of the Green Sun are you doing here?”

“I’m here to kill the new Solar, of course,” Edge answered in a slight huff, “or did the local exaltation completely slip your notice?”

“We were there,” he rebutted, “and I’m afraid you’re too late, I killed him myself.”

Pausing in her ministrations for a quick chuckle, she shook her head. “Sorry, darling, but that’s where you’re wrong. He’s still alive and, believe me, the pattern spiders are pissed.”

Rage scoffed. “Honey, I cleaved his ribcage almost in half, I missed his heart by a hair’s breadth. Even Solars don’t survive that, particularly not immediately after exalting.”

“Sorry, Edge, but I have to agree with him,” Feather added, “I’ve never known Rage to claim a kill he didn’t earn.”

“Be that as it may, the Solar’s fate strand is still intact, despite the spider’s best efforts to eliminate it,” Edge informed them. “I think you better factor that into your calculations. Are you sure you were striking the Solar and not an illusion or some sort of fake?”

“There wasn’t any time for anything like that,” Rage denied, scowling. “Either this Solar is the toughest son of a whore I’ve ever met or he’s had help, maybe a bit of both. If he is still alive, though, the smooth tongued snake is going to be trouble.”

“He might be gifted but he’s an amateur,” Feather said, dismissing the possibility, “I can handle Tetsu the Wanderer.”

Rage frowned. “Feather, it’s not that I doubt your abilities but, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the person you were yesterday. I don’t know much about dissembling but it seems to me that you’re, if you’ll pardon my honest assessment, an astonishingly gorgeous woman.”

“Yes, I kind of noticed that,” Feather quipped sarcastically, “what’s your point?”

“I think what Rage is trying to say is that you’ve drastically changed the fundamental social dynamic that you’re going to have to exploit if you want to match wits with an Anathema,” Edge answered for her floundering boyfriend. “Or to be precise, you’re not used to being a girl yet. I take it this Tetsu is rather persuasive. What’s he like?”

“He’s a contradiction,” Feather answered. “He’s over six feet tall and all muscle, the kind of body you only get from hard labour. He’s also ugly as sin, probably from being punched in the face one two many times as a kid. He looks like a brainless thug and that’s where he blindsides you, behind that mask rests one of the most cunning minds I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing in action. He’s dangerous enough without charms, I dread what might happen if he gains power. Oh, and by the way, I’m NOT going to get used to being a girl at all because I’m going to find a cure for this even if I have to wring Sanejin’s neck to get it.”

“But you accept that while you are in this form, you’re not going to be at one hundred percent effectiveness?” Rage asked pointedly.

Feather waved the observation away. “You’re acting like we’ve never had to disguise ourselves as women before.”

“I think this qualifies as being a bit more drastic than putting on a wig and a dress,” Rage observed.

Edge stared at him speculatively. “You two really did that?”

“We had to infiltrate a southern satrap’s pleasure palace a while back,” Rage explained, “only three types of people allowed: the satrap, his women and the eunuch guards. Somehow I didn’t think you’d appreciate what I’d have to go through with the third option.”

Chuckling, she leaned in and kissed him much to Feather’s discomfort. “You two want some privacy?” Feather queried, reminding them that they had an audience. Watching them be intimate with each other was causing things to happen to her new body that she really didn’t want to think about and she let her annoyance show through her voice. “I could go solve the fate-shattering mystery while you two relieve your sexual tension.”

Groaning, Rage pulled away. “I thought the Chosen of Serenity were supposed to promote that sort of thing.”

“Usually I wouldn’t say anything but we really do need to discuss what our next move is.”

Annoyed at the interruption, Edge slid onto the fallen log next to Rage, using the moment she needed to adjust her robe to compose herself. “I think it’s obvious, Feather has to go back undercover at the brothel while Rage and I hunt down the Solar.”

Feather spluttered. “In case you missed it, I’m no longer exactly equipped to play the Dragonblood in the hen house. Not that there aren’t any female terrestrials enjoying the pleasures on offer but they’re remarkable enough to be noticed.”

“Which is why you’ll disguise yourself as one of the whores,” Edge proposed, her voice dripping with sweet venom.

“Hmmm,” Rage mused, scratching his chin. “You know, it’s got potential. We need someone to keep an eye on Sanejin and the brothel to make sure Tetsu, or whoever screwed up the Loom, isn’t hiding there.”

“You’re both insane!” Feather shouted, rage propelling her to her feet. “If you think I’m going to spread my legs for some rutting boar of a dragonlord, you’re out of your tiny minds!”

“Oh, calm down,” Edge rebuked, “nobody said anything about you having to actually perform sexual services. Sanejin has how many whores in his employ? One hundred? Two? If you keep your wits about you I’m sure you’ll be able to avoid any unpleasant duties. Besides, you’ll be able to move around freely, unnoticed.”

“Humph,” Feather grumbled, crossing her arms as she sat back down and pouted.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, Feather, but what she’s saying makes a lot of sense,” Rage said gently, glancing at his girlfriend as he dreaded her reaction to what he was going to say next. “I accept that I’m not the undercover type and I hate to say this but Edge wouldn’t be able to blend in like you could.”

Edge sighed. “Unfortunately, I have to agree. I doubt Sanejin is wise enough to employ petite women. Besides, you’re now immune to whatever turned you into this.”

Biting back a caustic reply, Feather sighed. She wasn’t about to admit to them that she drank essence-charged water from a lunar manse, it’d make her look like the idiot she felt like. “I fell into a pool of water in a chamber under the temple,” Feather explained, “I don’t know if it just works by contact or not, I might have got some in my mouth, so watch what you drink.”

“Does that mean you’ll go back to the brothel?” Rage enquired.

“Humph,” Feather grumped, “I don’t really have any choice, do I?”

Far away, deep in the Underworld on the edge of Oblivion itself, the Neverborn chortled with insane glee as the Great Curse claimed another victory.

#

“Pregnant?” Delani asked rhetorically, shock overcoming her usual composure.

“Without a doubt,” Sarro confirmed, “furthermore, the baby is developing at unnatural speed, she’ll be showing by morning.”

“This complicates things,” the water caste mused, neatly folding one final letter before sealing the paper with wax and setting it to one side on her desk, “is she in any danger?”

“Physically, I can keep her healthy and bring the baby to term,” Sarro reassured before delivering the bad news, “mentally, however, she’s not prepared to be a mother. Keeping her sane through the ordeal might be challenging.”

“Sarro, we will still need her to testify against Sanejin if something goes wrong. I don’t care if she’s having a baby or passing jade talents, you will do everything in your power to keep her whole. Am I understood?”

Sarro frowned. “I appreciate that Bonzo is important to our cause but I have to question the ethics of…”

“Ethics be DAMNED,” Delani interrupted, slamming her palm down on the table to emphasize her point. “I placed Bonzo’s continued wellbeing in your charge and you will do EVERYTHING in your power to ensure her complete health and fitness. Besides, a child will give us another bargaining chip to ensure her cooperation.”

Standing, Sarro leaned over the table. “Making her answer questions was one thing, Delani, mind raping her into wanting to bare a child by her rapist is… disgusting and amoral.”

Rising to meet her subordinate at eye level, Delani spoke with deadly calm. “We don’t always have the luxury of following the dictates of conscience. My only goal is to keep our men alive and I will do anything to ensure that outcome. Sacrificing Bonzo’s free will may seem harsh but it will benefit everyone in the long run, even Bonzo.”

“You can’t ask me to do this,” Sarro said, her eyes narrowing.

“I’m not asking you, no. I’m ordering you to do it, under my divine right as Dragonlord of the 4th Dragon of the 23rd Legion, given to me by the Scarlet Empress. Unless you wish to break with the circle, Sarro, it is your duty to comply with my orders.”

Taking a deep breath, Sara backed down. “It wasn’t my intention to challenge your authority. However, I must protest against such a course of action on moral grounds.”

“Your protest is noted,” Delani said, remaining implacable, “I hope that salves your conscience so that you can do what must be done.”

“If that is how you feel, I will do it,” Sarro sighed, “but you know it’s not right, Delani.”

Sitting back down, the commander sighed. “My friend, I disrupt the lives of thousands of men and women every day. Any one of these innocent looking letters that rest on my desk could mean riches or ruin for any number of strangers that I will never know, just as we are unknowingly directed by forces outside of ourselves. We must all snatch what freedom we can from the jaws of necessity. Bonzo will do the same.”

“And what if someone had power over you? Would you wish them to enforce their will on you in such away?”

“Likely, they have already,” Delani snorted. “In such a case, I can only hope that such a one has my best interests at heart, as we do with Bonzo. Or are you suggesting that being reduced to a drooling shell is preferable to acceptance of her new place in Creation?”

“No,” Sarro admitted. “Don’t worry, I will do as ordered.”

“Good,” Delani said, relaxing. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it has to be this way.”

“As am I,” Sarro sighed as she turned and left, “as am I.”

#

“All that’s Maiden Tea?” Misari asked her lover as she continued to pour over the plans for their future city, glancing at the shipment that had just arrived at the White Crane Dojo through the window in their tent. A line of servants were passing crates from the back of several wagons into the storehouse, working quickly and efficiently under the watchful gaze of the overseers.

“I hear there’ll be over a hundred girls available each night,” Hathor informed absently as she watched another shipment of rock pull into the docks through the door flap. “They’ll probably need enough to sterilize the all of Greyfalls over the course of a week.”

Misari chuckled. “That may be a slight exaggeration.” A sudden thought made the air caste frown. “Hathor, are you really all right with what Delani is planning?”

“I would have said something if I wasn’t,” Hathor reassured her. “I made an oath to the Scarlet Throne to protect and preserve the Realm at any cost. If we serve the Realm better with Delani as the Satrap of a city state rather than a Dragonlord of the 23rd Legion, so be it. She’s earned my trust a thousand times over.”

“I see,” Misari said noncommittally.

Hathor chuckled. “Don’t worry so much, dear, Delani has yet to steer me astray.”

“It’s not that,” Misari sighed, putting the plans to one side so she could concentrate fully, “honestly, I find the idea of sharing each other with anyone, let alone a god, repugnant.”

“I don’t like it either,” Hathor admitted, “I wouldn’t have capitulated on that point if you hadn’t given me the nod. Are you having second thoughts?”

“No, we have a duty to ensure the continuity of our line. It’s just… regret.”

Allowing the door flap to fall shut, Hathor strode over to her lover and kissed her cheek affectionately. “I know but as Delani is so fond of saying, we must all bow to necessity. Believe me; the thought of sharing you with anyone makes me want to smash things.”

“Sometimes I wish we could run away and just be together,” Misari said regretfully, “as stupid as such a sentiment is.”

Hathor leant in and gave her a proper kiss before smiling down at her. “I know, dear. It’s stupid and sentimental of you and I love you for it.”

Smiling contentedly, Misari pulled her back down to do a more through job.

Chapter 12

Waiting had always been the hardest part for Tetsu in his own experience. Caught in the moment of danger he was in his element, capable of adapting and conquering or failing and running depending on the will of the gods. The hours leading up to those moments, however, were pure torture. He tried to keep still as Ullah unwound the bandages from his chest, pleased that he was close to a full recovery in only a few days. Tetsu kept one eye on the sky as the light faded with the sunset through the whole procedure, eager to get back into the thick of things. Kano laid out a simple tunic and robe borrowed from Ullah’s closet of disguises which, thankfully, included some more masculine garments.

Most of all, Tetsu was disturbed by the newfound power he held at his fingertips. Sometimes he’d catch himself staring at his hands, knowing full well what they were now capable of. The Dark Messiah Style was aptly named, drawing on the power of the Underworld to turn its master into an avatar of death. It was power the likes of which he’d never experienced and the fact that he had earned it so easily was frightening.

“Thank you for your help,” Tetsu whispered as Ullah probed the fading scar on his chest.

“I’m sure you’ll repay my troubles one day,” she acknowledged. “Until then, do me a favour and keep yourself in one piece.”

“I wish I could guarantee that,” he answered. “I feel like such a fool putting myself in the middle of this yet again.”

“The world is shaped by the will of adventurous fools,” Ullah preached, “and the Unconquered Sun smiles on the righteous ones that think of more than their own gain. You’re a Solar now, Tetsu, it’s time you started trusting yourself.”

“Well, that’s a slippery slope if I ever saw one,” he muttered.

Chuckling, Ullah kissed his cheek. “Well, maybe just trust yourself a little more. Everything you do now speaks to who you are as a man. It’s time to honour yourself.”

Nodding, he discarded the remains of his bandages, stood and allowed Ullah to help him dress with almost ritualistic formality. When they were done, he and Kano shared a nod of affirmation as they steeled themselves for the work to come. Stepping outside together, Ullah escorted them to the water’s edge where a small boat was waiting, concealed in the reeds. They set out across the river as the shadow of the mountains darkened, casting a shroud over the water, taking turns at the oars. They moved in silence, unwilling to risk that the slightest noise would alert the soldiers on the bridge in the distance despite the fact that the chance was exceedingly remote. Once he and Kano were on dry land, Tetsu bid Ullah a silent farewell before watching the woman row back towards the opposite shore, leaving them on their own.

“You know this town better than I do,” Tetsu whispered into Kano’s ear as they squatted below the rim of the riverbank, “where do we go?”

“They light braziers around the outskirts at night,” Kano informed him, “and they’ve been building makeshift walls for the last three days with anything they can get their hands on. We’re also not likely to get past the docks with all the ships in port overnight. That leaves the tunnels.”

Tetsu blinked. “Tunnels? You mean like sewers?”

“No,” Kano shook his head, “we don’t have anything like that. But there are really old tunnels that run from the river right up to the temple. Father told me they’d been there for as long as anyone can remember, the miners sometimes find new ones as well. Usually they just seal them back up; they say the tunnels are haunted.”

“Well, why should they be any different to the rest of this place,” Tetsu muttered. “How do we get in?”

Kano peeked over the lip of the bank for a second to get his bearings then pointed towards town. “That way, there’s an entrance under the docks.”

Tetsu allowed Kano to lead him along the bank, concentrating on the thin path that was dimly illuminated in the quickly fading light. Patrols passed them by several times, the stomp of feet marching in unison sending small showers of dirt down over their heads. “You got a plan for how we’re going to see down there?”

Smiling, Kano patted the satchel that hung over his shoulders. “Way ahead of you, boss,” he whispered back.

The hole that Kano led them to was perfectly square, large stone blocks only slightly weathered from the movement of the water over countless years. A channel dipped down into the river along the middle of the floor, leaving two thin walkways. Kano urged Tetsu into the tunnel a short way before producing a torch, flint and tinder from his satchel, quickly lighting it. “Come on,” he said, moving quickly along with the torch aloft, “we should get away from the entrance before someone spots us.”

Agreeing with a simple nod, Tetsu followed. The tunnel would have been perfectly smooth and flat if not for the accumulated dirt and debris that caked the walkways. Dirt, rocks and branches that had washed in with high tides crawled with rats and insects while Kano’s torch parted curtains of spiderwebs from their path. The water surged below them with the languid movements of the river behind them, a strange breeze alternately brushing their faces and their backs, almost as if they were in the mouth of a gigantic sea creature of legend.

“Wait,” Kano warned, holding up his free hand to halt Tetsu, “do you see that up ahead?”

Peering over Kano’s shoulder, Tetsu saw it; a light, faintly glimmering up ahead. “You have more torches?”

Kano nodded.

“Get as close as you can then throw the torch in the water. I’ll scout ahead from that point.”

The former prostitute showed his agreement by continuing ahead. They came within ten feet of the light before he discarded the torch, Tetsu taking the lead through the last few cobwebs before emerging into a large chamber that he surmised lay under low town. The room was enormous, easily fifty feet high and perhaps twice as wide, extending off into the darkness like a giant’s canal. Multiple channels like the one they’d emerged from could be seen along the waterline, feeding water into the artificial river. Most remarkably, a ship with a paddle wheel was tethered to a stone dock a hundred feet away, fires still smouldering in lanterns on the deck.

“By the gods,” Kano breathed in awe, “I had no idea. If I’m right, we should be underneath the White Crane Dojo. No wonder Red Wolf shut himself up in here; he was planning on running with everything that wasn’t nailed down.”

“Come on, let’s take a look,” Tetsu said, leading the way up some stairs to the wider walkway that ran along the wall towards the ship. It became clear as they approached that something had happened. Equipment lay scattered all over the platform and the deck as if a few hundred men had fled the scene all at once. Weapons also lay scattered about, unbloodied, along with the occasional sandal and bowl. Kneeling, Tetsu picked up a discarded canteen and sniffed what remained of the water inside before running his fingertips over the dried puddle beneath it. “Poison,” he noted, “see the little crystals along the edge here? Someone drugged them…”

Picking up one of the swords that lay on the ground, Kano nodded, tracing the design of a wolf’s head on the hilt. “Red Wolf’s militia for certain; what the hell happened here?”

“Mamo happened,” Tetsu surmised, “he said that Red Wolf was no longer a problem. He was so certain because he made sure of it. The ten jade talent question is, where are they all now?”

After a long pause, they turned to look at each other, both certain that they knew the answer but unwilling to vocalize it.

“No,” Kano denied, “he wouldn’t turn them all… would he?”

“I don’t know whether the idea is more shocking than the fact I might agree with it,” Tetsu sighed, “it makes one hell of a statement to the next yahoos that ride into town thinking they own the place.”

“That doesn’t make it right.”

“No it doesn’t but right and wrong isn’t as important as your ability to enforce the laws you choose to abide by. Take it from a brat that grew up in Nexus, kid, without people like the Emissary enforcing the laws; society isn’t worth a yeddim fart in a stiff wind. Sometimes that means making examples of people who cross you.”

Tetsu could tell that the idea didn’t sit well with Kano, which was probably to the boy’s credit. Standing up, he took note of the iron bound wooden door that likely led up to the surface before hopping across the gap to the deck of the paddle wheel ship to search the crew’s quarters and the hold below.

“Nothing,” the solar sighed upon his return, finding Kano sitting on several sacks of grain, “just more refuse. Mamo must have had help, no way he looted a whole ship and carted off nearly a hundred men without a small army behind him. That puts another mystery player on the board and I don’t like surprises.”

“Maybe he used the ship?” Kano suggested.

“Then why bring it back? Assuming there’s another dock like this one under the temple… does this canal even run in that direction?”

“Sure, we’ve been heading due east since we left the river, the canal should run right under High Town and the temple. Gods know how you’d get all the way up there, though, must be one hell of a flight of stairs.”

“More likely some sort of first age contraption, I wonder if…”

The eclipse caste was interrupted as the ship suddenly lurched, as if something huge and heavy had struck the bow under the water. Thrown off his feet as various bits of debris showered the room, Tetsu grabbed the rail before he was cast into the dark, rippling, water below. Kano jumped to his feet with a stunned cry, jumping several steps backward when the hull impacted against the dock. As the ship came to a halt, a low, deep, growl reverberated down the chamber, terrifying in the intensity of pure malice the horrible sound carved into their souls.

“Kano,” Tetsu called in a hushed voice, “get the door!”

It only took a moment for the order to penetrate the mortal’s brain before he turned and ran as fast as he could. Rolling to his feet, Tetsu leapt onto the dock moments before the ship lurched again, thrown around like a child’s bath toy. Luckily for the two travellers, Kano threw the door open with ease, slamming it shut behind his partner before the two continued to run up the stairs, bursting through the trapdoor overhead without heed to what was on the other side and finally falling prone on the other side, breathing hard.

“What… under the green sun… was that?” Kano demanded, gasping for breath.

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Tetsu whispered hoarsely, his mouth dry. Regaining his senses, he eased the trapdoor closed gently and checked their surroundings. They were in a basement that looked much like any other, filled with food and other supplies. Curious, he opened one of the boxes and sniffed the contents. “Maiden tea,” he declared, putting the box back down, “looks like Sanejin’s bribing the army with a few whores.”

“Great,” Kano hissed, “do we take our chances with the underground beast or a mansion full of horny soldiers?”

“I don’t know about you but I’ll take the horny soldiers,” Tetsu muttered. “Look, they’re going to be so besotted with the women they’ll hardly notice a couple of servants sneaking through. Just don’t think about where Sanejin got the women.”

“Too late, genius,” Kano quipped as Tetsu helped him to his feet.

“Just… follow me.”

A single flight of wooden stairs led them to a busy corridor full of beautiful young maidens dashing about laden with trays of food and strong drink. The sounds of the kitchen dominated the room to the right while the sounds of carousing rose and fell like waves from their left. In the midst of it all, the madam was attempting to impose her will on the chaos, snapping orders at wild-eyed girls that were barely able to keep up with the pace.

Tetsu would later blame the bounty of tender flesh being paraded before him for the momentary pause that led the madam’s sharp blue eyes to notice them. “Musicians,” she snapped like she was levelling a death sentence upon them, “second floor, third door on the left; instruments are waiting. Move, you’re late already!”

“Yes madam!” Tetsu answered, bowing quickly before moving left towards the stairwell.

“Please tell me you know how to play,” Kano whispered once they were away from her.

“Of course I can play,” Tetsu scoffed, “but we’re going to hop out a window instead.”

“Oh, clever,” Kano approved.

A difference noise greeted them as they ascended. The cries of young women being soundly violated by rough fighting men (and likely a few fighting women) filled the hallways, rice paper doors being no barrier to noise of any sort. “Gods,” Kano swore under his breath, slowly turning green with disgust. Hardening himself against the horror, Tetsu continued down the hall until he found a room that was quiet, ushering Kano inside before shutting the door behind them.

He didn’t notice the naked girl sitting on the bed looking up at them imploringly with wide, frightened, eyes until she spoke. “How may I serve you, masters?” She asked meekly.

For a moment, Tetsu was tempted. She was naked and lovely, young and nervous like a virgin. Waves of tawny hair curled over her shoulders, the colour matching perfectly with her bright green eyes and creamy skin. The moment of temptation passed, however, and he pushed Kano towards the window. “Just be quiet and don’t tell anyone we were here.”

Rather than appearing relieved as Tetsu expected, the girl cast her eyes down in disappointment. “Do I not please you?”

Curious, Tetsu knelt beside the girl. “You used to be one of Red Wolf’s militia, didn’t you?”

“Tetsu!” Kano protested over his shoulder as he opened the window. “We have to go!”

The girl’s face shot up in fright but she nodded. Tetsu held up his hand to calm his friend as he questioned her. “Do you truly want this?”

She nodded more enthusiastically this time. “After they made me drink the water they… did things to me; such wonderful, terrible, things!” She shifted on the bed, pressing herself against him. “Please, I need you so badly…”

Reflex took over. Tetsu’s finger shot up, tapping the girl on the side of the neck at a single precise point. A moment later, she crumpled back onto the bed, sleeping soundly.

“Holy shit!” Kano swore. “Ullah teach you that?”

Blinking, Tetsu stood, staring at his finger. “No, that she didn’t teach me but I’m not about to look a gift in the mouth. Come on, it’s past time we left.”

Climbing deftly down the outside of the building and jumping a few feet to the back wall that surrounded the mansion, the two fugitives quickly found themselves traversing the empty back alleys of Low Town as they made their way up the mountain. Kano deftly navigated the labyrinth of buildings, avoiding every guard and patrol with ease until they came to the cliff that separation the two districts. With the stairs heavily guarded, they were forced to climb the natural rock formations in the dark, though the light of the gibbous moon helped.

High Town was harder to traverse, with ordered streets and high walls surrounding every compound. Patrols and guards were less frequent, however, so the duo were able to flit between the dark shadows cast by the moon and avoid notice. After a short debate, they decided that the road up to the mountain’s peak was a better path than climbing up to the temple through the underbrush in the dark and began the long ascent to the temple. Their luck held, reaching the top without any incident more exciting than the caw of a nearby Raiton.

A single figure leant against the open and unbarred gate, smiling with what seemed to be genuine enthusiasm. “Excellent,” Mamo greeted, bowing deeply as they approached, “I wasn’t sure you’d accept our invitation, Prince of the Earth.”

“Just Tetsu, please, and I’d rather continue this conversation inside away from prying eyes.”

“Of course, allow me to take you to Sanejin at once, he’ll be delighted to see you again.”

Mamo led them through the gate and down the nearest servant’s entrance, staying well away from the main buildings that were full of dragonblooded that would eagerly skin them all alive just for being seen together much to Tetsu’s relief. Kano followed just behind him, taking on the position and manner of a servant just as they’d discussed before leaving the graveyard. Tetsu ran through the usual greetings and responses as they traversed the hallways, mentally preparing himself for the battle of words that lay ahead. Finally, they came to a balcony that arced around the second floor of an enormous circular room. Sanejin waited below them, standing beside a circular altar with a strange indentation that dominated the centre of the lower floor. The god wore rich gold vestments, his long hair patted immaculately, held in a strange looping pattern around the back of his head by a long, golden, pin tipped with a ruby. He looked fit to greet royalty, positively glowing in the torchlight.

“Father,” Mamo greeted, laying the formality on thick, “I have the honour to bring you the one known as Tetsu, a true Prince of the Earth.”

Sanejin grinned impulsively as they descended the stairs to meet him, kneeling at Tetsu’s feet much to the wanderer’s surprise and astonishment. “Lord Tetsu,” the god greeted formally, keeping his eyes lowered, “mortal language cannot express my relief at your reappearance in this world. For thousands of years, I have been waiting to pledge my loyalty to the solar exalted once more, since before my exile at the hands of your persecutors. As long as my existence is inviolate, know that you have a place under the roof of my house.”

It wasn’t what Tetsu was expecting. For the third time in a single night, Tetsu was surprised and it wasn’t getting any easier to accept with practice. “Please, don’t kneel,” Tetsu begged, embarrassed at the show of fealty, “I’d much rather be greeted as a comrade rather than by a title I haven’t yet earned.”

Sanejin was still smiling as he rose to his feet, still a head taller than Tetsu. “Most wise, if you don’t mind me saying so, Tetsu. I must say, I never entertained the most remote notion that you’d return to me as one of the solar exalted after our last meeting.”

Tetsu chuckled. “At the time, I honestly thought if you ever saw me again, I’d have been chopped into bloody chunks and scattered across the mountainside.”

Returning a seemingly genuine chuckle of his own, Sanejin motioned for Tetsu to walk beside him as they continued their conversation. “If it would please you, I’ve had the kitchens prepare a private feast in honour of your arrival. We can speak further of the matters that trouble my town as we dine. By the way, Mamo mentioned that you were with a woman earlier this afternoon, if I might enquire as to her identity.”

“Out of respect for her wishes, Sanejin, I can’t divulge her name,” Tetsu replied, “she had pressing business to the west and merely paused in her journey to help me recover from the wounds I received in the battle with White Crane. During that recovery, she merely recounted an alarming version of ancient history and taught me a few tricks.”

“I see,” Sanejin mused as they passed through a set of double doors that led deeper into the underground complex and followed a long corridor that ran under the baths above. “I trust she covered the basics of the rebellion of the Incarnae and the First Age as well as the Usurpation.”

“She mentioned those, yes,” Tetsu admitted, “though it all seems a bit fanciful.”

“The legends don’t do the solar exalted justice,” Sanejin answered, “believe me, I was there. I witnessed it all, the overthrow of the Primordials, the rise of the First Age under the rule of the solar exalted and their eventual fall to betrayal at the hands of the Sidereals and their Terrestrial pawns. Though, I haven’t been able to return to Yu Shan since soon after the Breaking of the Mask so my knowledge of current events is spotty at best.”

“The Breaking of the Mask?” Tetsu enquired, curious.

“Yes, Heaven wasn’t exactly thrilled that the Sidereals took it upon themselves to restructure Creation, even if the Solars were going a bit mad. They had a mandate to rule from the Unconquered Sun himself, after all, that was never officially rescinded even if he made his displeasure with them known. In order to avoid prosecution, they maimed one of their own Incarnae in such a way that their involvement could never be proven by anyone, ever. After that, everyone knew the Sidereals were guilty but no-one could prove it, so they got away with it. When I protested at the highest levels of the celestial bureaucracy of the injustice that was being perpetrated right under our noses, I was exiled for my troubles. Since then, I’ve waited patiently, building a base of power with which to aid the solar exalted once they returned to us. And now, you are here and the millennia of hardship I have endured has turned out to be worth every moment.”

For his part, Tetsu didn’t know what to think about any of it and he was starting to feel the metaphorical waters rising over his head. Cast into the realm of gods and demons against enemies who commanded nations and twisted reality itself to their whim was starting to overwhelm him, yet he maintained his impassive mask, accented by a vaguely curious streak that he didn’t have to feign. He silently cursed Ullah for talking him into what he was doing, then cursed himself for letting her manipulate him into the position he found himself in. He set all such thoughts aside as they entered a private dining room dominated by a circular table laden with plates of steaming meat, baked vegetables and delicacies from all five poles of Creation. The sight and smell of the banquet almost made Tetsu forget how much danger he was in.

“Tell me, Tetsu, have you ever seen such a feast?” Sanejin asked, proud of the impression he was obviously making on the bemused solar.

“No,” Tetsu answered, allowing his awe to slip into his voice, “your hospitality is without question the most bountiful and gracious I have ever received.”

“Then please, sit,” the god offered, pulling out a chair for Tetsu next to his own. “Would you prefer wine or water with your meal?”

“Wine!” Tetsu and Kano both replied in unison.

Sanejin chuckled. “Please, Mamo, if you would sample the carafe of water to reassure our guests that it is not our intention to have them join my wives?”

Nodding, Mamo poured himself a glass and drank confidently without result before taking his own seat at his father’s right hand.

“See? Please don’t apologize, I’d be suspicious too if our positions were reversed. Of course, I am duty bound to offer any visitor a sip of the Water of Eternal Perfection if they wish to imbibe it willingly,” Sanejin offered with a self depreciating smile.

“Thank you but I’m afraid we’ll have to decline,” Tetsu said, smirking back. “We ran into one of your new recruits on the way here, by the way. Does the water really make its victims crave sexual relations?”

Sighing, Sanejin speared some meat with his fork and ladled it onto his plate. “A mere decade ago, I would have protested against your description of my wives as victims. Unfortunately, that no longer holds true. The answer, however, is yes; the water afflicts many changes on those who drink it, the change of gender merely being among the most profound amongst men. While it makes one beautiful, it also increases the body’s natural appetites, sometimes to the point where it will become the woman’s all consuming passion.”

“And you used it against what remained of Red Wolf’s militia in revenge for they way they abused you,” Tetsu pressed the point, eager to put the god on the back foot.

“You don’t disappoint me, Tetsu,” Sanejin admitted, crestfallen. “It wasn’t just revenge I was seeking, however, at least not merely for myself. Many men and women in my town have been raped to death in White Crane’s so-called executions. Those men helped. They abetted and indulged their petty power games, caring for nothing but their own pleasure. Now they know the suffering they inflicted on others. More practically, their fate serves our interests in keeping the legion distracted and placated while we plot our next move against Greyfalls. Please believe me when I say that I find the necessity distasteful.”

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Tetsu sighed, “I approve, as much as that fact disgusts me. If I may ask, what happened to Red Wolf?”

“She’s too dangerous to have roaming about but unfortunately she’s also too valuable to kill,” Sanejin shrugged. “I’m keeping her under lock and key for now.”

Glancing at Kano, it was hard for Tetsu to tell how he felt about this development. They boy had a far away look in his eye and wore a deep frown. The solar could only imagine the conflicting notions Kano was dealing with, caught between the need for revenge against the man who had ruined his childhood and the basic human decency that prevented him from condoning the transformation of another against their will. The lines between good and evil were starting to blur for him, a rite of passage that Tetsu had passed through long ago at a much younger age.

Casting such analysis aside for later, Tetsu returned to the conversation at hand, eating judiciously as Mamo filled everyone’s wine glass from the same bottle. “Very wise, she may yet prove useful. I for one would like to question her about her guild contacts and the smuggling ring she was operating. However, as they say in the west, we have bigger fish to fry.”

“Yes, the 4th Dragon of the 23rd Legion,” Sanejin surmised Tetsu’s concerns correctly, “led by Dragonlord Cynis Delani. Yet another clandestine attempt by Cathak Kitono to start a war with the Confederation of Rivers.”

“Is he mad?” Tetsu asked sincerely. “The Realm has tried subjugating the Hundred Kingdoms before without success and that was when the Scarlet Empress was on the throne. Starting something with the succession war going on seems foolish.”

“Kitono is an ambitious man, acting with surprising restraint,” Sanejin informed. “If I am correct about his motives, what I believe he is doing is more bread loaf tactics, taking small slices of territory at a time. If his gambit succeeds, he’s gained House Cathak a bargaining chip in the succession wars and his own foothold in the political arena of Greyfalls. If it fails, he cuts the 4th Dragon loose and denies all involvement with their activities. He loses some resources that will take time to recover but nothing that he cannot live without.”

“Callous,” Tetsu judged, “does this Cynis Delani understand that?”

“I might have mentioned something to that effect earlier,” Sanejin said, grinning ear to ear. “Delani’s a competent enough leader and diplomat not to realize the consequences of failure, I just don’t think she quite understood how alone she was out here. Delani is the sort of officer that takes loyalty to her subordinates seriously; sometimes she fails to see that her superiors don’t share her sense of responsibility.”

“Sounds like a good woman.”

“Certainly, this is why I’m handling the situation with some delicacy. I’d rather not see her or her circle sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. On the other hand, I have no doubt she’d have us all killed if she so much as suspected we were even sitting at this table together. I’d much rather make her an ally, if fate permits.”

Tetsu whistled appreciatively. “Ambitious. But you seem to have everything well in hand, then, what could a god of your stature possibly need me around for?”

“Aside from my desire to see the Solar Exalted rise to power once more or to aid a potential friend in need?” Sanejin asked pointedly.

“Frankly, yes,” Tetsu answered. “Simply having me here right now is too great a risk for you not to have some idea of how to employ my skills. Besides, I wouldn’t feel right accepting your hospitality without compensating you for your trouble, assuming that I will accept it. I haven’t decided yet.”

Sanejin put down his cutlery and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “To answer your question fully, I need to show you something. Mamo, if you don’t mind entertaining Kano for a moment?”

Rising from his seat, Tetsu gave Kano a reassuring pat on the shoulder before following the god through a side door and, surprisingly, into the open air. A short balcony stretched across the cliff on the other side of the mountain from the town, showing off a vast range of peaks and rivers covered in trees with a light dusting of snow. The view was breathtaking but nothing otherwise out of the ordinary.

“The Makota mountain range,” Sanejin introduced, sweeping his hand across the vista before pointing out the tallest peak that rose far above them in the distance, “dominated by Mount Makota. In the First Age, this entire region was holy ground. If you cleared away the forest you would see the remains of thousands of buildings.”

“So? The Hundred Kingdoms is lousy with ruins,” Tetsu said, shrugging.

“How many of those ruins are reputed to have seen the death of a Primordial?” Sanejin asked in return, chuckling. “How many have felt the personal touch of the Incarnae? Pilgrims would travel here from every elemental pole just to stand in the footsteps of the greatest of the gods and bask in their place of victory. Most amazing of all, the pinnacle of Mount Makota was blessed with the presence of the Oracle of the Unconquered Sun himself, who ruled benevolently across a long line of incarnations until his death during the Usurpation more than a millennium ago. That’s just some of the highlights of the region’s history; we don’t have all night for me to enthuse over legends. Unfortunately, most of the histories are lost. What wasn’t pilfered by thieves after the Usurpation was wiped out by the Great Contageon. Even the scavenger lords leave this place alone, to my knowledge. At least none of them come through River’s Bend.”

“So? If there was anything to find out here, it would have been found already. What’s the angle here?”

“There are layers of conspiracies at work here, my friend. Things I don’t even confide to Mamo. The scavenger lords don’t search these ruins because they’ve been stripped bare; they avoid these ruins because of what is hinted at in the histories. It is said that the Oracle escaped the first wave of assassins during the Usurpation but concluded that he was living on borrowed time. In order to deny the Dragonblooded the spoils of war, he buried his most powerful artefacts somewhere under these mountains, including war machines of unsurpassed power. In one last act of defiance, he took his own life, going so far as to lock away his own memories so that even his ghost could not betray him. Naturally, the Sidereals and the Dragonblooded searched but concluded that the so-called Oracle’s Trove was hidden with arts beyond their skill if it in fact existed at all. Most of those in power prefer that those secrets remain buried but occasionally an ambitious group will attempt to uncover it.”

“So you think this invasion is really a cover? While the Dragonbloods are ‘building fortifications’ they’ll really be searching for this cache?”

“I know that most of the strange occurrences in this town can be linked to the Oracle’s Trove,” Sanejin muttered bitterly. “Kitono’s patsies are merely the latest faction to throw their helms into the ring. The Guild, the All-Seeing Eye, the Confederacy of Rivers, Lunars, other gods and spirits… I’ve seen so many invisible hands attempting to control the events of this region that keeping track of them even stretches my capacity, though I admit that my own interest is not entirely altruistic. With the Oracle’s weapons, I could have offered you an army of unsurpassed might. We could unite the Savenger Lands and re-take the Blessed Isle, returning Creation to its rightful rulers. I remember a time when Creation was twice the size it is today, Tetsu, a time where there was no poverty or disease in a nation where even the meanest citizen was clothed, fed and sheltered. The Realm isn’t even a shadow of that nation; it’s a wailing ghost waiting to be sucked into Oblivion.”

“Well, I don’t know about ghosts, gods or nations,” Tetsu said, leaning over the railing to take in the magnificent view, “and right now, I’m content to let the past lie. At the very least, however, if there is an Oracle’s Trove, allowing it to fall into the wrong hands strikes me as a bad idea.”

“Then our interests in this matter align,” Sanejin said, smiling. “But it is getting late and you have likely had a gruelling journey up the mountain. I have had quarters prepared for you and your companion in case you wished to stay.”

“That would be agreeable,” Tetsu accepted.

“Excellent. If you’ll pardon me, I will leave you in the hands of my daughter, Maeria.” Clapping his hands sharply twice, the door inside opened as the Pristine Boyar’s daughter sashayed into the room.

The wisps of purple gauze that she wore barely maintained her modesty, leaving most of her skin bare and the natural beauty of her form in plain sight. She moved with a sinuous grace that made it appear that her curvaceous body was slithering towards him in the manner of a snake rather than walking with two legs. Honey blonde hair floated around her in the breeze, framing her ice blue eyes. She bowed gracefully before Tetsu, smiling beatifically. “Prince of the Earth, it would be my honour to escort you.”

Tetsu shared a short bow with Sanejin before allowing the woman to take him away. He quickly discovered that the tunnels under the temple were surprisingly twisted and illogical, the only landmarks being the many circular stairways that led to the floor above. It didn’t help that Maeria was distracting him with the entirety of her form, every step a cornucopia of sensual promise, rounded and soft in all the right places.

“So, where is my companion, Kano?” Tetsu asked as they walked, trying to keep his focus.

“Your servant and Brother Mamo are reminiscing in Mamo’s private chambers. He sent word to tell you not to worry about him and that he will meet you in the morning.” Noticing his frown, Maeria’s smile widened. “Do not fret about your friend. I vouch that he is safe and will remain so. We have no intention of harming either of you, just the opposite in fact.”

“Forgive an old cynic’s paranoia,” Tetsu grumbled, “but I’ll be reserving my judgement for a while yet.”

“Perfectly understandable,” she answered cheerfully, “trust must be earned and we are willing to do so. I don’t think you’re so old, however.”

“Humph,” Tetsu growled. “Don’t think I’m so easily swayed by flattery as the senile Lords debauching their time away in the halls above.”

“I meant no offence,” she apologized, her surprise seemingly genuine. “I believe you are a man of few years and much experience but that doesn’t make you old. Or perhaps you think your face should disgust me because you are not handsome?”

Shaking his head, Tetsu couldn’t help but chuckle. “You admit that?”

She slowed, surprising him by turning on her heel as she came to a halt, forcing him to stop barely a foot away from her. “I think your shell has seen many rough years and shows the scars and strength of hard living but I also know that the Unconquered Sun has found you worthy. It pains me that other women may have mistreated you because they couldn’t know what lay beneath the mask.”

Tetsu breathed in sharply as she raised her hand up to stroke the scar that ran along his cheek, a memento from a gang member on the streets of Nexus. When she stepped closer, he couldn’t deny the sudden surge of lust that shook him as he stared down into her eyes, soft pink lips slightly parted to offer the sweetest temptation. To his surprise, she raised herself up onto the tips of her toes and planted a delicate kiss on his cheek. Then, abruptly, she turned back around and continued down the hall, leading him forward dumbly by the hand.

“But we mustn’t dawdle,” she insisted, practically dragging him along, “my sisters are dying to meet you!”

Suddenly, as he wondered why in the names of all the Yozis he was allowing this girl to drag him around, Tetsu was sure he was getting out of his depth. Staring at her back, however, he honestly wondered if it would be so bad to drown.

#

Mamo’s presence made Kano distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just their shared history andalry or the fact that Mamo insisted on draping one arm around his waist in a distinctly overly friendly gesture as they walked, something about the way the boy talked unnerved him. He looked so girlish that Kano wasn’t sure that he really was male, the only hint being that his voice was slightly too deep for a female. He seemed to switch mannerisms on the fly, using masculine and feminine gestures alternately, usually at the most inappropriate times. Kano couldn’t help but feel that his nervousness and dislike was showing, though Mamo didn’t seem to notice as he rambled about anything and everything that came into his head.

“Here we are, darling,” he finally said as they came to an iron bound door in an otherwise nondescript corridor, “I think you’ll like the present I’ve been keeping for you.”

“Er… present?” Kano asked, trying to think of a way to get back Tetsu and a nice warm bed while Mamo fiddled with the large ring of keys that he pulled from under his robe.

“No, no, don’t want to spoil it,” Mamo teased, selecting the correct key and opening the portal on the first try.

The room beyond made Kano’s skin crawl. The octagonal chamber was obviously reserved for the sort of clients who liked pain, either giving or receiving depending on tastes. The walls covered in devices that could induce pleasure, pain or both from the most simplistic of whips, dildos and ropes to more complex mechanical devices that would take some knowledge to use for their intended purposes. In the centre of the room, shackled by the wrists to a chain that hung from the ceiling and blindfolded, stood a beautiful woman with bright red hair that contrasted with her dark skin. She was naked and exposed but otherwise it appeared that she hadn’t been mistreated.

Yet, Kano inwardly added as he watched his rival stalk around the perimeter of the room, sizing her up like cattle hung for the butcher. Shocked, Kano watched from the doorway, unable to tear his eyes from the scene.

“Mamo?” She called, a strange mix of panic and longing clear in her voice.

Finally approaching her, Mamo, slid his hand over her buttocks, grabbing a handful of flesh hard enough to make her squirm in his grip. “It’s me, my sweet. I hope you don’t mind but I brought an old friend. Kano, it is my great pleasure to present to you Red Bitch. You remember Kano, don’t you, Bitch?”

“Kano? No!” Red Bitch gasped in horror, momentarily struggling against her chains.

Mamo put a stop to that immediately, grabbing one of her nipples and twisting viciously. “Did I tell you that you could speak?” He screamed the question, suddenly enraged.

“No! No master, I’m sorry!”

“Better,” Mamo sighed, calming almost as quickly. Turning to look at Kano, he smiled. “Come on in, darling, she’s so eager to get reacquainted.”

Staring at the girl suffering in Mamo’s grip, Kano felt something cold and dispassionate well up from the depths of his soul. Slowly stepping forward, he entered the room and gently closed the door behind him.

Bearding the lion's den, Tetsu finds himself surrounded by enemies. Now more than ever he needs friends he can count on but what's a young Solar to do when even his friends harbour inscrutable motives and terrible secrets?

Author's Note: I'm going to try posting this in shorter installements, sorry this chapter doesn't reveal any major secrets as yet but there's plenty for you to chew on anyway!

Fate and the Iron Tiger PART III
An Exalted Tale by Dr. Bender

Chapter 13

The scent of crispy bacon and freshly toasted bread slowly drew Bonzo from her slumber. Still feeling dopy, she squirmed a little while she worked up the impetus to open her eyes, feeling warm and safe under the covers. The strange sensation of weight around her midsection, however, pulled her into full wakefulness.

Looking down, she couldn’t help but notice the bulge that was sticking out even with layers of blankets over her. Reaching down, her fingers probed the still small but steadily growing dome of her stomach, a strange and somehow alien sensation of peace and content satisfaction drifting over her.

“Hey there,” Sarro greeted, entering the room with a silver tray laden with breakfast enough for two (or perhaps three in this case), “how are you feeling this morning?”

“Wonderful,” Bonzo answered honestly, stretching out like a cat before sitting up in the bed, “in fact, I’ve never felt this good.”

“I see,” the dragonblood said, a tinge of sadness in her voice. She laid the tray on the bed and sat next to the mortal girl who was quick to shimmy over to snuggle against her.

“What’s wrong, Sarro?” She asked.

“Nothing you need to worry about, dear,” Sarro answered, kissing the girl on the lips, “all you have to do is work on the little one.”

Bonzo grinned, feeling strangely elated. “By the way, I know it might sound strange but what happened last night? I can’t seem to remember what I did.”

It was hard for Sarro to hold back her tears. Fearing that her voice might break if she spoke too loudly, she slid her arms around Bonzo and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll always keep you safe, I promise.”

The girl practically melted into her embrace and breakfast lay forgotten for a time.

#

The sun hovered just above the mountain range as Tetsu gazed over the vista from the temple’s balcony, the trees below bathed in rose-coloured light. The breeze caught her silky strands of dark hair, golden skin glistening in the light except for where she was covered by the wisps of gauze and exotic jewels that could barely be called clothes. Despite the idyllic scene, she couldn’t help but feel that something was very wrong, causing her to frown as she scanned the horizon. The more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that something was wrong with the scene but for the life of her she couldn’t figure out what was out of place.

All of her worries fled, however, as her husband’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her back into his arms. Sighing with contentment, she pressed herself against him, her cheek resting against his broad, strong, chest. Looking up, she pleaded with only her eyes for a kiss and, true to his nature, he enthusiastically complied. Consumed by lustful heat, she automatically parted her legs as his hand slid between her thighs, moaning into his mouth as he explored her most private places. Unable to hold herself back any longer, she fished his enormous, erect, member out from under his robe and quenched it in her depths.

Tetsu’s eyes fluttered open as he came, waking up in a tangle of silk sheets and sweaty feminine bodies. His seed came to rest on the bare hip of a tall, dark-skinned, redhead who’s long, supple, leg was resting between his while her head rested on the back of her older sister, Maeria, who’s arm lay across his neck. It took a moment but Tetsu’s befuddled brain eventually recalled that her name was Israfi. The petite sister, Pedenu, lay in the crook of his right arm with her head resting on his shoulder, waves of purple hair sticking to both her own body and his chest thanks to their sweat. Bovina, the large-breasted sister, was lying on the same side as Pedenu but inverted, her head resting near his right foot while her upper body rested against his shin with her left arm draped over Israfi. Until Tyria, the last girl, shifted a little, Tetsu thought that his head was resting on a pillow rather than a woman’s lap.

Amazed that he was still alive after the orgy of the day before, Tetsu felt surprisingly invigorated. The sisters had been ardent and enthusiastic lovers, each a jewel of unsurpassed value and indeed, all of them possessing the divine blood of Sanejin himself though they had been born to different mothers. They were also insatiable, Tetsu had completely lost track of everything that was going on after the first half hour as pure instinct drove him on with what felt like a bottomless well of energy. Time lost all meaning so he couldn’t be sure of how long he’d lain with the girls other than a vague estimate that it had to have been hours, though he remembered with some smug satisfaction that it had been the girls who had collapsed first.

Extricating himself from the bed took a few minutes, though it seemed that the girls were so exhausted that nothing would wake them from their slumber. The architect of the room had also ingeniously recognized the need for bathing immediately after an orgy of such a magnitude and built a large circular pool into the floor at the foot of the bed so that the revellers could simply dive in to cleanse themselves. So Tetsu said a short prayer of thanks to the God of Architects before sliding into the warm water, vaguely wondering what sort of first age magic could provide such delights as he washed himself. He tried to put the nightmare out of his mind as he relaxed, sinking up to his neck in the perfectly warm water.

Try as he might, however, he couldn’t stop his thoughts from ricocheting around the inside of his skull. Too much was happening too fast for his brain to sort through the millions of disparate pieces of the puzzle. What had started as a juvenile fight between two local factions had escalated to a high stakes game of nations without a single player that actually cared about the little people of River’s Bend who might be crushed by the machinery of war. The lines between friend and foe were already starting to blur.

Sanejin was unfathomable. Seemingly genuine with every word, something about the God’s manner still made Tetsu’s palms itch but it was hard to tell if it was a reaction to his divine aura or simply the echo of his recurring dream haunting his waking hours. As for the God’s story about a powerful artefact hidden in the wilderness, such tales were a dime a dozen in the Scavenger Lands, once the most populous area of the First Age. Inconsequential wonders were unearthed from dig sites across the East all the time. It was more disturbing, however, when a God paid credence to such a rumour, or pretended to.

Leaving the problem of Sanejin aside, Tetsu tried to order his thoughts, closing his eyes as he attempted to sort out the players in the game from the pieces. Of all the players, Greyfalls was by far the most active and overt, attempting to bludgeon every obstacle in their way into submission. By contrast, Lookshy was less a player than the timekeeper waiting to ring the bell for the endgame. The Guild seemed to have its hand in to support Greyfalls, likely figuring that a success for the isolated nation would encourage more military actions in the future. More military actions mean more profit for the Guild, either selling arms or capturing slaves.

“But they’re holding back,” Tetsu muttered to himself under his breath. The Guild wasn’t investing much, playing the odds and letting Greyfalls take the risks; cowardly but prudent, some of the defining characteristics of a successful businessman. The problem with the Guild was that it could be characterized as a double-headed snake, attack one end and the other might turn and kill you. Likewise, the Guild might buy a deeper stake in the game at any point if the potential reward appeared to defray the risk but they’d already lost the first hand along with Red Wolf and White Crane. Caution would rule their next move.

That left the players who had yet to reveal themselves overtly, whose existence could only be surmised from the plethora of seemingly unclaimed pieces on the board. Ullah was the perfect example. She seemed sincere in her desire to help the people of River’s Bend but who was supporting her? “The Cult of the Illuminated?” Tetsu asked the question out loud, seeing if voicing the idea made it sound less absurd than it did in his head. Unfortunately it did, if there was some sort of First Age device buried near River’s Bend and people with real influence started showing interest in it, then a cult that worships the beings who made it would naturally want to buy in.

Tetsu had to admit that he himself was a pawn on the board, possibly one that had been upgraded to a more powerful piece. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had guided his path over the last few days, ever since he’d run across that damn Dragonblood in the forest. “But the real question is who,” Tetsu mumbled. Had Markul somehow cursed his belongings before his death? Was Sanejin toying with him using divine magic? What was Ullah’s game and how had she really known that he’d needed rescue at the riverbank? None of these questions answered the greatest mystery, who had killed Markul in the first place?

Despite being unable to shake the feeling that Markul’s death was somehow linked to the troubles in River’s Bend, he pushed it and the question of who had killed him and why to one side. He didn’t have enough data to make even a hypothesis; it was a solitary piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit. Tetsu didn’t even want to consider that it was a piece for a completely different puzzle but only time and further investigation would prove it one way or the other.

Finally, his thoughts returned to Sanejin and the question of the God’s motives. Was Sanejin a tyrant, manipulating Red Wolf and White Crane as well as their masters in the Guild or had he been as much a prisoner and victim of their machinations as the village he ruled? Why risk harbouring an Anathema when his town was overrun by Dragonbloods in any case? Is the God a player or just another piece in the game?

“Holy shit!” Kano commented as he entered the room looking well rested and pleasantly dishevelled, staring at bed where the women were still sleeping. “Five of them? FIVE?”

“Not so loud,” Tetsu snapped in a low voice, quickly checking to make sure that the women weren’t disturbed, “you might wake them.”

“They look exhausted,” Kano whispered, still staring at the girls.

Grunting, Tetsu stood and stepped out of the bath, towelling off before donning the silk robe that had been left out for him. “It’s been a busy day,” he commented glibly, “but it will be a busier night… speaking of which, what have you gotten up to while I was preoccupied?”

“Oh, not much,” Kano blushed, looking away, “I ran into an old friend and did some catching up. So, what are we up to tonight?”

“We? I am going down into town to root out more information. You are going to snoop around here and find out everything you possibly can. I need to know the layout of the temple, I need to know how many girls live here, how they are treated and organized, I need to know about the Dragonbloods that frequent the place and I need to know anything about Sanejin that you can uncover…”

“I think I’ve proven that I can sneak around town with you after last night,” Kano interrupted, looking hurt.

Glancing in the girl’s direction as one of them stirred, Tetsu put his finger to his lip, gesturing for his companion to keep quiet before ushering him into the hallway outside, closing the door behind them. Turning back to Kano, Tetsu placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders and stooped to look him in the eye. “Kano,” Tetsu said in a low voice, “the job I’m giving you right now is more important than my own. Sanejin claims that there’s an artefact somewhere in these mountains that is Greyfalls’ true objective. I’m going to see if I can find any substantive evidence to that assertion but even if what he says is true, I need to know why Sanejin would trust me and what he is doing with this brothel. Whether he is telling the truth or lying is less important than his motives for doing so, do you understand?”

Kano nodded. “I… think so.”

“Good,” Tetsu grinned, patting the boy on the shoulder, “I leave it to you, I have faith in you.”

The boy didn’t seem to know how to take that sentiment, staring after Tetsu like a lost puppy as the Solar walked away. Feeling bad for his slight exaggeration, Tetsu gave his friend a wave of farewell before turning a corner to head towards the temple proper in search of Sanejin. The closer he came to the main building, the more traffic passed through the hallways as the girls busied themselves fulfilling the more basic needs of their guests. Laundry was an ever-present demand, often soiled in ways best left unmentioned. Food and drink was another for both the whores and their guests, orgies being surprisingly hard work. Several Madams kept the lower ranking girls moving and in line, rushing from one trouble spot to the next. The girls stepped out of his way as he approached, bowing their heads in subservience as he passed.

Turning another corner as he searched for some stairs up that might lead to an out of the way chamber, Tetsu ran directly into a girl carrying a wicker basket of laundry, knocking her back several steps. Startled, she looked up and Tetsu found himself staring down into the face of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. It wasn’t just her appearance that drew him in, he was surrounded by beautiful women, there was something intangible about this one woman that made him stare. The smudges of soot on her face, hands and feet and lack of make-up gave her an earthy quality the painted whores had given up for the illusion of perfection. Her hair was smooth, straight and inky black, though a little dishevelled from hours of labour. The sight of her generous curves made his member stiffen in anticipation.

Feather recovered from her surprise after a moment, lowering her head submissively like the rest of the girls. “Pardon me, my Lord,” she apologized in a small voice before quickly stepping past him, her heart hammering in her chest as the shock of the sudden confirmation of her fears hit home. The Solar was not only alive, he was somehow in league with Sanejin. It didn’t help that she could feel him staring at her as Feather’s mind raced through a million possibilities. Did he have some unholy charm that would pierce her disguise? Had he seen the male Feather and somehow made the connection between the person she had been with her current body? In moments, however, she came to a more shocking realization: he wasn’t staring because he knew; he was simply admiring the view.

With that realization came a host of options, her calculating mind discarding plan after plan in the space of several steps before falling back on what she knew best: manipulation. Feather glanced back over her shoulder, finding him still staring after her, and called on her essence. A red strand of fate, visible only to her, snaked out of the tip of her little finger and weaved its way toward him striking like a serpent. As their eyes met for a second time, the strand ensnared his little finger, tying itself into an unbreakable knot and sealing the connection between them. Feather looked away just as she went around the corner, allowing herself a short smile of triumph once she was out of his sight. Smiling in triumph, she paused with her burden and bit her lower lip, allowing herself to bask in the afterglow of her own cleverness. Tetsu the Wanderer would seek her out of his own accord in time…

“NEW GIRL!” The Madam barked, breaking Feather’s reverie.

Feather bowed her head, falling into her role again despite the internal struggle not to choke the life out of the petty waste of air that stood over her. The Madam held herself with the confidence of a Dragonblooded matron, dominating the other girls despite appearing to be the same age. “Yes, mistress?”

“Where have you been?” She demanded, holding her switch loosely in one hand.

“Washing this laundry, mistress,” Feather answered dutifully, holding up the large bundle of linen up for inspection.

“NOT FAST ENOUGH!” The Madam screeched, knocking the bundle out of her hands, her sudden shout making several other girls cringe away. “You must be quicker. Show me your heel.”

Confused, Feather lifted up her right foot so that her big toe was pointed to the ground as the Madam stepped around her. The switch whistled once, making Feather jump as a line of agony burned across her sole. She squealed, a sound that probably would have caused her old martial arts master to smack her to the ground.

“Now the other one,” the Madam ordered.

Gritting her teeth as she forced her injured foot to take her weight on the hard stone floor, she lifted her other foot so that it could receive the same treatment. The pain made tears well up in her eyes.

“There, maybe that will make you pick up your feet,” the Madam said smugly, “now run along, plenty of work to do!”

#

For a masculine divinity in charge of a brothel full of his own temple prostitutes, Sanejin seemed abnormally preoccupied with his own thoughts. Tetsu wondered for a moment if the god had even detected his presence for several moments after he entered the small private library, discovered thanks to directions given by a helpful Madam, finding him staring off into space as he sat in a comfortable-looking leather bound chair by the table that stood in the middle of the room. Shelves full of neatly organized books and scrolls lined the walls, their musty odour magnified by the lack of ventilation.

“Oh, Tetsu,” Sanejin greeted warmly as the door clicked shut behind the new Solar, “pardon me, I was lost in thought.”

“I thought gods were supposed to be all-seeing and all-knowing,” Tetsu observed with a wry smile as he pulled out the chair opposite and sat.

“Would that were the case,” Sanejin lamented. “Unfortunately, even the Incarnae have their blind spots; the rest of us are much more limited.”

“The who?” Tetsu feigned complete ignorance, wanting to test Ullah’s veracity.

“Oh, right, I keep forgetting how ignorant the Immaculates try to keep you mortals. The Incarnae are the current masters of Creation, creators of the Celestial Exalted and the strongest of the Gods created by the Primordials. They are The Unconquered Sun, Luna and the Five Maidens: Mars, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn and Mercury. As a Solar, your abilities are empowered by a shard of the perfection of the Unconquered Sun but the other Incarnae have their own exalted. Luna has her shapeshifting Lunars, savages that fled to the fringes of Creation when the Solars were deposed at the end of the First Age. More dangerous are the Sidereals, heaven’s secret police. They retain the secrets of First Age technology and even the youngest are trained in the strongest of Martial Arts. If that wasn’t enough, they have virtual command of the Realm and the ability to manipulate Fate itself. They could be anyone and anywhere.”

Tetsu’s eyes narrowed. “You suspect their hand here?”

Sanejin laughed. “I always suspect Sidereals, it keeps me on my toes. Tell me, did your mystery saviour tell you anything about your new abilities?”

Scratching his chin, Tetsu leant back in the plush chair, considering how much to tell Sanejin about Ullah. “No,” he answered finally, “nothing beyond the history of the Solar Exalted, the same as you described.”

The god took a deep breath. “I would tell you to be wary of this person, whoever they are, but then I know you’re no fool. I also understand why you don’t trust me, though I hope to earn that trust in time. If you are amiable, I would like to make you more aware of your proper place in Creation before you rush out on your night’s errand.”

“I have time to listen,” Tetsu said, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Good. As I said, there are three type of Celestial Exalted and each has, or had, five ‘castes’ just as the Terrestrials do. Rather than elements, however, they are defined by the celestial bodies linked to their Incarnae. The Five Maidens each have their own caste and the Lunars used to have five castes as defined by the phases of the moon though this has been narrowed down to three since their exile to the Wyld after the Usurpation. Solars also have five castes defined by the Sun’s phases: Dawn, Zenith, Twilight, Night and Eclipse. Each specializes in one of the basic arts of civilization: War, Religion, Intellect, Espionage and Diplomacy. As an Eclipse caste, you will find that your diplomatic abilities will be greatly enhanced, though this is not the only power you possess. Every caste has abilities that they share in common, separate from those known as ‘charms’. In your case, there are three. First, the Eclipse caste forged pacts long ago with the unnatural beings of other realms close to Creation. As such, many unnatural beings including Demons, the Fair Folk and other spirits must honour the rules of hospitality in regards to you and your companions unless you attack them first. Secondly, you may learn the charms of the other types of Exalted, though they must choose to teach you. Last but by no means least, you can use your Essence to sanctify an oath before all of Creation, enforced by Fate itself. This Oath may be between any two people and whoever breaks it will suffer dire consequences.”

Standing suddenly, Tetsu turned away from the God, shaken to the core. “The power to enforce an agreement, no matter how minor or world-shattering that deal is? I could own Nexus or conquer the Guild in a matter of weeks.”

“It takes a great deal of Essence to sanctify an oath,” Sanejin explained, “essence that takes some time to replenish when one doesn’t have worshippers. At the height of their power, the Eclipse caste could singlehandedly forge and destroy nations with a simple handshake. I wouldn’t be so concerned, you are still newly Exalted. The weight of your oath is not quite so heavy as that of an ancient Solar but it is still formidable.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Tetsu muttered, starting to pace.

“Tetsu, you were not chosen for this power lightly,” Sanejin insisted. “The Unconquered Sun ordained that you were worthy of the abilities you now possess. It’s time to trust in his judgement and trust in yourself to make the right choices. Oh, I almost forgot, there’s one other problem with sanctifying an oath. Your Anima Banner may flare from the use of Essence.”

Tetsu stopped and blinked dumbly at him. “My what?”

“Your Anima Banner,” Sanejin repeated, sliding out of his chair. “Your Exaltation marks you. Two kinds of Essence that running through your body: inner and peripheral. Your inner Essence may be used freely without consequence but use of your peripheral Essence will charge your Anima Banner, which will flare like fireworks. The caste mark on your brow will also glow for some time, revealing your blessing to the world… and any mortals, dragonbloods, unfriendly spirits or even Sidereals that happen to be nearby, all of whom will attempt to slay you.”

“Everyone has been out to kill me my entire life,” Tetsu growled, taking deep breaths to try to keep himself calm. “I’ve survived. I always survive, no matter what it takes. But I’ll be careful tonight, thank you.”

“I hope we can be friends, Tetsu,” Sanejin accepted graciously, “it is the least I can do.”

Sighing, Tetsu turned and smiled. “Perhaps we can. If you don’t mind my presumption, I have a request.”

“Name it.”

“While I appreciate the hospitality of your daughters, I wouldn’t dream of accepting their personal attentions during my stay here. I’m sure you value them highly. If I could select one of your other girls to assist me, it might go a long way towards assuaging my doubts.”

Sanejin stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Is that all? As far as I am concerned, my friend, everything I own is at your disposal. As a personal favour, I would prefer if you left enough to keep my guests occupied, though.”

Laughing with him, Tetsu slapped the god on the shoulder. “I wouldn’t dream of abusing your hospitality. I will see you later, I’m sure we’ll have much to discuss by dawn.”

Tetsu found himself more confused by the god’s motivations after the conversation than he did beforehand. Acquiescing to every demand, volunteering information without question of reward or return, not even questioning what he was about to do tonight, none of it made sense. Sanejin was sticking his neck so far out onto the chopping block the headsman would have to be blind and facing the other way to miss. The only motive that he discounted out of hand was altruism.

Ascending a narrow, dark, staircase, Tetsu was pleasantly surprised to find that he’d chosen correctly, emerging atop the wall overlooking River’s Bend. The worn stonework made for a perfect climbing surface, allowing him to descend rapidly. The road downhill was dark, not a single traveller to be seen above High Town. River’s Bend itself, however, was aglow with moving torchlight. Teams of workers continued their labours into the night, followed closely at all times by soldiers and Guild overseers. The new walls were slowly being erected as stone was moved from the harbour to the edge of town along roads of loose logs with efficiency born of Dragonblooded leadership.

Acutely reminded of the thousands of lives that rested on his actions, Tetsu crept into High Town with a renewed sense of purpose. Emerging from the tree line, he dusted himself off and arranged the fine robes he’d borrowed from Sanejin in an effort to make himself look like a wealthy merchant out for an evening stroll and continued down the street. The mansions around him were brightly lit but quiet except for the myriad banners that fluttered on the walls, each depicting the personal heraldry of the Lords that occupied the building. The streets were immaculate and mostly deserted, which Tetsu was grateful for.

It was easy to tell which mansion the Dragonbloods were using for their main headquarters thanks to the sheer number of banners that festooned the walls, not to mention the presence of an armed guard at the gate. Tetsu veered off down a side street before he’d be forced to pass by, just in case his likeness had been circulated. While he considered it a remote possibility since he was supposedly dead, he felt that it could hurt to be cautious.

He almost cursed when he came close to running straight into a patrol of five soldiers marching across the street, only hiding himself behind an empty supply wagon at the last moment. Muttering under his breath at his own clumsiness, Tetsu had to admit that he hadn’t thought this particular phase of his plan all the way through. The compound wasn’t a fortress by any stretch of the imagination but the walls were fifteen feet high and the Unconquered Sun hadn’t exactly given him a user manual with his exaltation.

Deciding not to risk getting stuck in the monster-infested sewer system again, Tetsu too a deep breath before stumbling around the corner towards the main gate and the two soldiers posted outside. Lurching drunkenly, he mumbled an incoherent tune to himself as he used the wall for support. “Ay! Goosh fellows ‘o th’ ‘egion,” Tetsu called with a thick slur, “spar a ‘and fer a pal, would je?”

Before Tetsu could blink he was staring at the pointy ends of two spears with stern-faced armoured legionaries at the other end. “Halt,” the one on Tetsu’s right commanded, “state your name, citizen.”

Shuffling back a few steps, Tetsu hit the wall and slid halfway down to his knees. “No need for tha’ ofishur,” the solar explained, hiccoughing, “I’s Cathik… Cachak… Ketchup… Ca-th-ack. Cathak Kinomomomo…”

The soldiers shared a look. Tetsu knew the look, it was the acknowledgement of shared disgust with the antics of a supposed superior. “I’ll need to see your seal, my lord. You’re roaming the streets after curfew.”

“…momomo…. mo… oh, my seal, wh’ ‘id that go?” Tetsu asked, stalling to buy some time to think as he made some show of patting down his robes and checking his sleeves. “Git ‘eze sticks outta my face, would yer, I can’t conshentrate wi’… oh, gods…”

A long time ago, Tetsu had mastered the art of losing the contents of his stomach on demand. Summoning the sense memory of the charnel stench of some of the seedier back alleys in Nexus always did the trick and it wasn’t long before he was retching into the gutter.

“Shit,” the younger soldier that hadn’t talked yet swore, “he’s straight enough to hold up the moon. We can’t leave him out here.”

“Come on,” the older one answered, “we’ll let him sleep it off in a holding cell and do the rest of this crap come morning.”

Tetsu had to wonder how many dragonbloods these soldiers had been forced to throw into a cell to sleep off a party. Considering the practiced way they dragged him along between them, he was guessing the answer was all too often. Playing the passed out drunk didn’t give him a chance to survey much of the grounds beyond the gate other than the ground passing beneath them but he memorized the twists and turns in their path along with the number of steps to keep a rough estimate of where they were going, pausing only for the guards to organize a temporary watch on the gate.

Eventually, they dragged him inside a building with a rough stone floor. They passed several more guards in the same uniform who shared some jokes at Tetsu’s expense before he was dumped on a rough straw pallet, the door quickly closed and locked behind him. He waited a few minutes for the guards to get some distance away before getting up to assess his surroundings. It was a small room with nothing but a strong reinforced wooden door, four stone walls, the hard straw bed, a tiny window and a pot for a toilet. Tetsu had to acknowledge that this would be a dire situation for most normal people, perhaps even challenging for the average dragonblood.

The lock came apart with a single swift blow aimed just above the door handle. He waited for a few more moments to see if anyone responded to the noise before slipping out into the hallway unobserved. Creeping down to the exit, Tetsu was glad that the other cells were unoccupied, no other baggage to get in his way or set off an alarm. He silently thanked the Incarnae when he discovered that the guard post was only manned by one soldier who was having trouble keeping his eyes open. A single unseen jab sent him into the realm of dreams so that Tetsu could lower him into a chair in one corner to prop him up like he’d simply fallen asleep on duty. His sergeant would probably chew him out but at least he was still alive.

Outside the makeshift jail, the mansion was buzzing with activity. Guards were less numerous inside, though they were stationed at most of the major entrances, but there were so many servants, messengers and local officials wandering about that blending in wasn’t going to be an issue. Straightening his robe and brushing most of the mud off, Tetsu strode confidently into the courtyard and stopped a younger servant carrying several bolts of silk. “These are for the mistress?” He asked authoritatively, though not loud enough that his voice rose over the general level of noise around them.

“Uh… no, sir,” the callow youth warbled, unsure of himself, “these are for Master Iselsi.”

“Yithais Iselsi?” Tetsu probed, making some show of inspecting the silks.

“Mithras, sir,” the servant informed, eager to please.

Tetsu frowned, almost feeling bad for what he was about to do. “You’re going the wrong way, fool; Lady Delani will have our heads. Come, follow me.”

The kid scurried along behind Tetsu as he strode purposefully into the building with the guards not even sparing him a second glance. Naturally, he had no idea where he was going but everyone believed he did because he walked with purpose and the kid made him appear to be someone who could give orders. Inordinately pleased with himself, Tetsu dampened his smug sense of superiority and remained alert to his surroundings.

The inside of the Cynis mansion was a maze. Marble hallways provided clear pathways to the chambers of the rich and debouched dragonbloods but the servant’s passageways were more traditional, complete with the sliding wood and rice paper doors so popular in the East. The servants rushed through these back passageways and rooms on various errands for their masters like stagehands support their actors from backstage. The mansion’s complex layout was further exacerbated by the various nooks and crannies that could provide lusty dragonbloods with privacy enough that anyone could discreetly ignore their various trysts, a favourite Cynis pastime.

“Um, sir?” The kid asked tentatively as they turned down another back hallway. “Isn’t this the way to the kitchens?”

Mentally cursing his misfortune to pick a servant with half a brain, Tetsu snorted. “Of course it’s the way to the kitchens, idiot. We’re almost there.” Spying the perfect solution, Tetsu stopped suddenly enough that the kid almost bumped into him. “Watch yourself, you bumbling buffoon. In here.”

Throwing open the door conveniently marked ‘storeroom’, Tetsu shoved the servant through and followed, shutting the door behind him.

Blinking stupidly at the room full of brooms, boxes, shelves and various cleaning tools, the kid turned back toward Tetsu. “Um, sir, this is…”

Tetsu’s punch knocked the kid down, unconscious before he even hit the floor. “A closet,” the solar finished for him, “thanks kid, I know.”

Shoving the kid into a corner after stripping off his robe, Tetsu folded his merchant’s robe and neatly added it to the stack of silks before donning the servant’s simple black tunic. Hefting the youth’s burden along with his own robe easily, Tetsu slipped back into the hallways, again moving like he actually had a job to do.

Bypassing the kitchens, Tetsu had to pick his way slowly through the crowded rooms where the musicians and other entertainers awaited their lady’s summons. “Lady Delani throwing a party tonight?” Tetsu asked the person behind him, a pot-bellied kitchen servant baring a tray of appetizers.

He snorted. “From what I hear, the Lords and Ladies are throwing a party for her, trying to curry favour.”

“I overheard Lord Peleps whisper to Lady Ragara that they’re trying to petition her support in hunting down the Anathema,” another rake thin servant interjected.

“Kadan or Tia?” The pot-bellied man asked.

“Tia.”

“It’s nonsense then, he’s just trying to stir up the other Dragonbloods, throw them off balance.”

“Anathema?” Tetsu scoffed. “I heard the Anathema was twenty foot high and breathed fire. They might need the army to take it down.”

“I heard it was so hideous that looking at it’s face scared thirty men to death,” the thin one lied, trying to up the ante on Tetsu’s tall tale, “and then, it drew in a deep breath and sucked down their souls!”

“All I heard was that it brought down half the mountainside with one stamp of it’s foot,” the pot-bellied one shrugged.

“I heard that it wore a cloak of feathers that made it look like an owl,” one of the male dancers said, joining in on the gossip.

“Don’t be stupid,” the thin one scolded, rolling his eyes.

Tetsu took advantage of a sudden gap in the crowd as the rest of the gossips joined in on the action to extricate himself. Continuing around another corner away from the crowd, he couldn’t help but grin when he discovered an empty set of stairs leading to the upper floors. Shifting his grip on his burden so that he could look around the pile of silks to see where he was putting his feet, Tetsu quickly ascended to the next floor.

The distinctive sound of moans and rhythmic thumping made him pause before continuing up. Gently putting his burden down in one corner, Tetsu peeked through the arch into the dark, otherwise quiet, hallway that he guessed ran the length of the main hall where the party was supposed to be taking place. A lady dressed in purple robes with embroidered gold sunburst and rolling white clouds had a young, handsome, serving boy pinned in a corner, her hands grasping his ass as she guided him through the motions.

“Wait, mistress,” the boy pleaded, his eyes screwed shut from concentrations, “I’m going to… to…”

Snarling, she reached down and squeezed the base of his penis hard enough to make the boy writhe. “Useless male,” she growled, “you do not have my permission to come, is that understood?”

“Yes, mistress,” he gasped, “I’m sorry, I can’t help…”

Tetsu winced when she smacked the back of his head against the wall. Before she could do anything further, however, she was interrupted by the distant sound of trumpets. Quickly extricating herself, she tossed him aside so that she was free to rearrange her robes. “Utterly useless, you’re a disgrace to the Cynis name, boy,” she snapped before turning on her heel and marching around the corner in a huff. Bursting into tears, the boy fled past Tetsu, running down the stairs without giving the solar a second glance.

Shaking his head, Tetsu slipped into the hallway, looking for a way of spying on the main hall for a few moments. His assumption proved correct when he discovered another nook with a hole that allowed him to peer out through the eye of a carving that depicted one of the elemental dragons. The room beyond was lavish, though likely not a patch on the palaces of Greyfalls or the Blessed Isle. The Lords and Ladies stood on lush crimson carpet before a throne of entwined silver and gold dragons with bejewelled eyes, their clothes a riot of colour under the glow of the crystal chandeliers over their heads.

The dancers that had been performing for the dragonblood’s entertainment were making a discreet exit as the trumpeters sounded a second fanfare while the orchestra took their positions. Finally, the great doors at the end of the room opposite the throne opened and the guests parted to provide a straight path for their host’s passage.

Lady Delani cut a striking figure as she stepped onto the carpet. She wasn’t the tallest terrestrial present but she exuded an aura of confidence and command that none of them could match, which made her seem much larger to Tetsu’s perception. While the rest of the assembly wore gowns and robes of exquisite tailoring, she wore a suit of deep blue Jadesteel armour composed of intricate plates forged to resemble a wave-tossed sea over a robe of chainmail. The chainmail sleeves hung from underneath her pauldrons as well as falling like a skirt from her waistline down to her shins over heavy black cloth and leather garments that would protect her skin. Her boots were also armoured with wave-ridges that would probably hurt anyone she kicked or stomped on quite greviously. Her dark, slightly blue-tinted, hair flowed freely down her back as a servant carried her crested helm with his head bowed between the two peacock feathers attached to the visor. To his surprise, Tetsu noticed that she wasn’t carrying any weapons.

She strode purposefully across the room and took her place on the throne in time to her musical accompaniment, wringing every ounce of melodrama from the moment. Tetsu had to admit, it was impressive and certainly added to the weight of her authority, a trick he mentally filed away for later use.

“Friends,” Delani addressed the crowd, “thank you for this kind gesture of gratitude and for your gifts. It is nice to know that the work of the Legion is appreciated, though I must apologize for the other members of my Sisterhood who are unable to attend because of their duties. I’m also sure you’ll forgive me if I can’t stay for long, there are many pressing matters that require my attention.”

One of the older, less ostentatiously dressed, dragonbloods stepped forward to bow to their hostess. “Lady Delani, you do us a great honour and show the full extent of your graciousness to humbly indulge this small token of our esteem. Since we have already introduced ourselves, milady, please allow me to introduce these other luminaries so that they may present their gifts. First of all, please allow me to present Lord Ledaal Tooke, a young fellow warrior on his tour of the Threshold.”

The young man that stepped forward stumbled slightly, obviously nervous. “L-lady Delani,” he stammered, almost as if his voice was still breaking, as he knelt at her feet. “It is a honour to meet you, I have heard much about your exploits. If you would please be kind enough to read this letter of introduction from my mother, Lady Elistaire, and consider the prospect of a marital alliance between our houses.”

Tetsu had to stop himself from chuckling, noting that Lady Delani was controlling her annoyance superbly. She gave him a warm, if insincere, smile as she took the scroll he was presenting out of his hands. “Thank you, Lord Tooke, please assure your mother than I will give the proposal all due consideration.”

Visibly relieved, Tooke melted back into the crowd as the older dragonblood ushered another visitor forward. “Lord V’neef Xegoku, Lady Cynis Delani,” he introduced simply.

Xegoku’s expression made him look like someone had slipped a slice of lemon in his mouth. “It is my pleasure to meet you, milady. It is with deep and sincere regret, however, that I must inform you that my gift of valuable silks from the Blessed Isle has seem to have gone missing…”

He paused as a titter of derisive laughter rippled through the crowd that was all too eager to take advantage of his embarrassment and undermine his political position. Tetsu had to cover his mouth and turn away from the peephole to stop himself from giving away his position, tears rolling down his face. As the parade of insincere well-wishers continued, Tetsu crept back to the pile of silk, retrieved his robe and neatly folded it before continuing up the stairs, leaving the rest behind.

Choosing to get off the stairwell at on the third level, Tetsu was forced to scurry past a guard who gave him a cursory glance but seemed more intent on picking the dirt from under his fingernails. The main problem, however, was continuing to look like he knew where he was going when the hallway he found himself in had thirteen doors and two other corridors leading away from it. Making a snap decision, he turned down the first corridor just to get out of the guard’s sight only to find himself staring down a long hallway at two guards who flanked the door at the t-intersection at the other end of the corridor.

Forcing himself to relax and act naturally, the solar counted down six doors on the left before grasping the handle of the seventh and twisting confidently as if he expected it to open. Naturally, his hope was in vein as the door refused to budge.

“Hey, you, halt!” One of the soldiers commanded, approaching Tetsu at a slow walk, his companion several steps behind. They carried swords at their hips and wore sky blue lamellar armour composed of heavy rectangles of boiled leather woven into overlapping strips.

Tetsu turned towards them and bowed, holding the robe out to support his bluff. “Pardon me, sirs, I was simply instructed to bring this robe to this room but unfortunately, it seems to be locked.”

“These doors are always locked,” the soldier informed forcefully. “Show us your face, servant.”

Cursing mentally, Tetsu stood up straight, showing not only his face but the difference in height as he looked down on them. The talkative soldier’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t recognize you,” he said, his left hand unconsciously coming to rest on his scabbard.

“Usually I tend the gardens,” Tetsu said politely, “we’re a bit short staffed with the party going on, sir.”

“Wait,” the other soldier interrupted, reaching out to touch the garment in Tetsu’s hands, “there’s still mud on this robe…”

Tetsu didn’t waste another moment. The robe went over the talkative soldier’s head as the solar stepped in close, tightening the cloth around the first man’s neck as he rammed his knee into the second one’s stomach. The blow shattered his armour, breath exploding out of his mouth as he was thrown into the air. The first was thrown over Tetsu’s shoulder even before the second one crashed to the ground, a swift punch between the eyes knocking the talkative one unconscious. The second hit the ground, bounced a little, then lay still, never seeing the blow thanks to the robe wrapped around his head.

Dusting his hands off, Tetsu almost forgot about the soldier that had been guarding the stairwell until he came around the corner and stood dumbfounded at the scene before him. Tetsu was moving the moment he heard the guard’s footfalls, however, whipping the talkative soldier’s sword from its scabbard and casting it end over end down the hallway. Fortunately for the guard, only the sword’s pommel struck him, though it struck with enough force to slam him into the wall behind and knock the guard senseless. He left a trail of blood as he slid down the wall, unconscious.

Blinking, Tetsu couldn’t quite believe the sight of the three unmoving soldiers that lay at his feet but only spared himself a moment of contemplation before necessity compelled him to move on. Stepping over the bodies, he ran over to the door the first two had been guarding and, foregoing finesse, shattered the doorjamb by simply barging through it.

He wasn’t suspecting what he found on the other side, just as the figure swathed in black with a matching scarf wrapped around his head to conceal his features hadn’t been suspecting anyone to come barging through the door. The thief, which was all Tetsu could assume he was, paused in the middle of shoving maps and scrolls off the table in the middle of the room into a sack, though there was a second sack sitting next to the window that was open with the bars that would have otherwise prevented entry seemingly having been transmuted into cheese.

“Unholy piles of Yeddim dung,” the thief swore, his voice slightly muffled by the scarf, “what are you supposed to be?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Tetsu answered, taking half a step forward.

The thief’s hand moved so fast that Tetsu wasn’t able to react, pulling a short rod from behind his back as a blade sprung from the tip. The next moment, Tetsu was staring at the tip of what looked like an imbalanced short sword made of gold pointed right between his eyes.

Tetsu held his hands out, showing that they were empty. “No need to be so hostile, from the looks of things, you and I are after the same thing.”

Sniffing, the thief glared at Tetsu down the length of his blade. “No, I don’t think so. YOU killed Cathak Markul.”

“No! Wait!” Tetsu called out in vein, narrowly ducking as the blade whistled over his head, separating the tips of several strands of hair from his head. What Tetsu didn’t see was the thief’s foot as he vaulted over the table and planted it squarely in the middle of his chest, knocking him back into the doorjamb.

Momentarily stunned both by the ferocity and unnatural speed of the attack, Tetsu barely managed to grab the thief’s knife arm before the blade plunged into his throat before stepping to one side, locking his assailant’s arm and twisting sharply, intending to throw the man to the floor. It would have worked but the thief simply rolled with the momentum, running up the wall and even planting a foot on the ceiling as he flipped over Tetsu’s head, landing behind him, back to back, forcing Tetsu to sway to the side to avoid the blade as he stabbed back past his right hip.

Losing his patience, Tetsu grabbed the thief’s collar and whipped him around through the air like a rag doll, spinning once before hurling him across the room. Impossibly able to control his flight in mid-air, the thief hit the wall on his feet, though the stonework cracked and crumbled from the force. Pushing off from the wall with his legs, he flipped in the air again, knocking the table up into the air and launching it towards Tetsu with a second horizontal spinning kick.

Planting his feet, Tetsu took a single stride forward, lashing out with his fist. The table shattered, splinters flying in all directions as he calmly stepped through the debris. Momentarily blinded by a flash of bright light, he had to shield his eyes with one hand to see the thief, his dagger glowing with bright golden radiance as the half-circle caste mark on his brow flared to life. “DIE,” the thief growled, levelling the tip of his weapon at Tetsu’s chest.

Tetsu moved by pure reflex, throwing himself backwards at the ground so fast that the air itself strained against his passage for a fraction of a second before it broke. He moved so fast that he left spectral after-images in his wake as the thief’s bolt of lambent energy singed the small hairs on the tip of his nose. Following the path of the blast with his eyes, Tetsu was astonished to see his own shadow transfixed by the bolt, his manoeuvre so blindingly fast that he’d managed to outpace light itself. Another moment later and he was thankful for his newfound power as the attack blew a hole cleanly through the stonework.

Rolling with his fall, Tetsu kicked his legs up and launched himself back on his feet, coming face to face yet again with his fellow Solar. The half-sun caste mark still glowed on the thief’s brow as he dropped into a defensive stance. “Your move,” he said in a low, deadly, voice, the light gleaming from his golden blade.

Standing calmly, hands resting easily at his sides, Tetsu sighed. “I just want you to know one thing.”

“What is that?”

“It didn’t have to be like this,” Tetsu answered wearily. Dropping to his knees, the eclipse caste raised his hands like he was trying to shield himself from his attacker. “Please don’t hurt me, sir!” He screamed pitifully, cowering for all he was worth. “I don’t want to die! Have mercy!”

Confused, the thief blinked. “What are you do…”

The thief was interrupted as a tall eastern dragonblood in a green robe and a warrioress in red armour burst through the door, followed closely by a dozen soldiers. They paused just inside the doorway, their eyes moving from what appeared to be a servant in a black robe grovelling for his life to the man with a blade that bore the glowing gold mark of ‘The Unclean’ on his forehead towering over a ‘helpless victim’.

“Oh you dog-raping son of a whore,” the thief swore as the full import of what Tetsu had done struck him.

“ANATHEMA!” The dragonbloods cried, raising their weapons high as they charged as one, their loyal subordinates close behind.

Wasting no more time, the thief turned, leapt out the window and dropped a handful of metal balls behind him. The deft footfalls of the dragonblooded managed to pick their way between the obstacles but the soldiers were not so lucky. Some of them slipped while other balls exploded on impact, filling the room with thick, greasy, smoke. Confusion reigned as the Lords charged after their quarry, leaving the mortals to fumble around behind them.

Taking advantage of the confusion, Tetsu crawled between the panicked soldiers as their officers tried futilely to restore cohesion. The smog was so thick that he could only see a few feet in front of him but it was enough to avoid their weapons as they brandished them carelessly or their falling bodies as they were either pushed over or slipped on one of the loose metal balls that still rolled around on the floor. Retrieving the two sacks that the thief was forced to leave behind, the eclipse caste crawled back out of the room before picking himself up and running as fast as he could away from the chaos.

Picking his way past the groaning soldiers that he’d laid out in the hallway, Tetsu’s mind raced. The sacks slung over his shoulders were a dead giveaway that he was up to something shady; he needed to stash them somewhere where he could retrieve them later. The obvious problem being that it had to be somewhere no-one else could find them. Spotting a window past the soldier that he’d slammed into the wall, Tetsu threw open the shutters and climbed out onto the tiled roof below and started inching his way along the wall.

Trying not to think about the three story drop into the grounds below or the even greater drop into the darkness over the cliff that the mansion perched atop, Tetsu moved cautiously, checking his every step on the slippery tiles. Moving around the corner formed where the stairwell met the perpendicular hallway inside brought him closer to the edge of the cliff and a potential fall of a few hundred feet. Forcing the thought from his mind, Tetsu kissed the sacks and said a short prayer for the safety of whatever was inside before casting them over the cliff to fall into the trees far below.

With the burden disposed of, the solar girded himself for the climb down the side of the building, returning to the corner where he could get a better grip and the potential fall was likely to be less damaging to either his body or his ego. Finally managing to clamber down to the eves on the first floor above ground level and feeling more comfortable, Tetsu decided to continue moving along the lower roof to avoid the servants and soldiers that scurried below, never bothering to glance upward in their haste.

Spotting a small, single story, protrusion from the main building that sported several skylights, Tetsu hopped over the short gap between the eves and the roof before dropping to his knees to crawl quietly towards the closest, intent on descending to the ground floor out of sight where he could blend into the crowds once more. Glancing over his shoulder at the windows of the main building to make sure no-one would spot him, he made sure the room below was dark and quiet before lowering himself down. Finding himself in what appeared to be a changing room, mostly empty except for racks of plain white cotton bathing robes, he took stock of himself in the floor length mirror to straighten up his disguise and get into character before exiting via the only door.

Creation seemed to freeze for a moment as Tetsu took in the sight that met him in the next room. It was a large room with several heated bathing pools composed of natural rock to give it the appearance of an authentic hot spring. Potted plants and small gardens enhanced the scene, though the floors were covered in roughly textured tiles that were designed to stop bathers from slipping and hurting themselves. Despite the skylights, the room was hot thanks to the baths, steam rising from the clear water into the cool night air. Most shocking of all for Tetsu, however, was the naked woman who reclined in a chair at the end of the pool, her lovely pale skin glowing in the light framed by a chaotic tangle of midnight black hair, a hot damp cloth folded over her eyes. Pieces of deep blue jadesteel armour and black robes lay discarded nearby, though Tetsu didn’t need them to identify the Dragonlord that lay before him.

Cynis Delani stretched languidly, wiggling her toes in the hot water as she sensed the presence of another in the room. “It’s about time, slave, I have half a mind to have you flogged for tardiness.”

Tetsu bowed his head, trying to fix an imagined image of Menji naked in his brain to counteract the effect of her natural beauty on his hormonal drives. “As you command, Princess of the Earth,” he responded humbly, staying in character despite the chaos in his mind as a million thoughts collided all at once.

She smiled, an expression that made her look predatory rather than pleasant. “Maybe later,” she teased coyly. Tetsu held his breath as she parted her thighs, displaying herself to him in all her glory. “Serve me, slave,” she ordered, snapping her fingers at him, “serve me well enough and I might just be moved to mercy.”

Utterly trapped, Tetsu understood that he had no choice. If he ran, she’d rally the rest of the soldiers and any remaining dragonbloods and hunt him down, if she didn’t just kill him herself. Despite his powers, he didn’t fancy his chances against a fully trained warrior, even with the element of surprise he had no idea what she was capable of. Even if he did kill her, it would only raise the alarm and get him killed anyway.

Seeing no other way out, the solar stepped down the short stairway into the pool, wading through it to kneel between her feet. She sighed as he slid his hands up her calves, tracing his lips up her inner thigh.

“Oh yes,” she gasped as he got to work, biting her lower lip, “yes, just like that…”

#

“You think we should, you know, help them?” Rage asked his companion as they watched two dozen dragonbloods in various states of dress, wielding a variety of different weapons, charge into the forest shouting ‘Anathema’ at the top of their lungs. They had the perfect view of the mad, incoherent, rush for glory from the branches of a tall tree just outside the edge of town, having arrived too late to the party to join in on the fun.

Edge shrugged, carefully picking the last bit of their dinner out of her teeth with one of her throwing needles. “You think they’d believe anything we said? Besides, the Solar’s probably long gone by now, we’ll have a better chance of tracking him down once the commotion subsides.”

“That’s true,” Rage sighed.

Looking at her lover from the corner of her eye, Edge felt nervous. He’d been a little morose all day, though she’d put it down to nerves at first, Rage was still a Chosen of Battles and the charge of the dragonbloods, as aimless and futile as it was, should have at least provoked a spark of enthusiasm in him. “Rage darling, what’s wrong?” She pried, knowing that brute force honestly was the best way to get him to open up.

“Nothing,” he murmured evasively, his eyes scanning the forest even though he knew well enough that the chances of spotting anything were slim.

“If it’s about that thing with Feather earlier, I’m sorry I got carried away,” she apologized.

He shook his head. “No, I was an idiot and said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“If it’s about Five Days Darkness…”

“It’s not that,” he interrupted, scoffing, “you know the rule: what happens in Yu Shan stays in Yu Shan. I don’t worry about you having to sleep with the occasional target either.”

“Oh,” she muttered, confused. “Are you worried about Feather, then?”

“I am,” he admitted, “but that’s not what’s bothering me. Feather’s a big boy… er, girl, I mean. She can take care of herself, probably better than I can.”

“I see. So what is on your mind?”

“The Anathema, Tetsu,” he said, eyes narrowing. “I missed him, Edge. I don’t miss. Now I’ve got to take a second shot at him and frankly, it’s pissing me off.”

Edge melted a little on the inside. Rage’s ability to end lives was what had attracted her in the first place, the serene majesty of the sweep of his blade as it cut the threads of destiny. He reminded her of her life as a surgeon before her exaltation, bringing peace to the injured one way or the other. Running a field hospital had given her a appreciation for the effect of war, both obvious and subtle, that gave her a deep and abiding love for conflict as art. If war was an art, however, Rage was an artist, a master of every martial discipline. Edge also knew that she wasn’t the only being in the Division of Endings who lusted after him; she was just the one that had caught him, a fact that gave her enormous prestige in the division.

Wriggling over, she insinuated herself under his arm, pressing her body against his side. “You know, maybe we should let the children look after themselves tonight.”

Looking down into her eyes, he grinned. “Maybe that’s not a bad idea.”

They kissed for a while before Edge pulled away, sliding seductively out of his reach leading him provocatively to a more private setting. “By the way,” she whispered coyly, “you know if you sleep with anyone else I’ll kill you, right?”

“Absolutely.”

#

Not for the first time, Kano wondered exactly how Tetsu managed to talk him into things. Or maybe more precisely, how he let Tetsu talk him into things, or even how Tetsu let him talk himself into things. Most troubling, however, was that it forced the former male prostitute into choosing between two conclusions: either the wanderer’s social technique was so subtle and efficient that he couldn’t possibly know he was being manipulated or he was an idiot. Though he preferred the former explanation to the latter, he was starting to wonder as the girls he was eavesdropping on from a quiet corner while they ate in the communal dining hall and gossiped over the comparative size of their client’s penises.

Finishing the last of the food off his plate, Kano returned the dishes to the sublimely beautiful kitchen staff, blushing at the steamy looks and blown kisses cast his way as the girls flirted outrageously at any opportunity. Most disturbing was the knowledge that at least some of them had to have been male at some point, it was simply impossible to tell who had or had not once been the angler instead of the fish.

Even worse, it seemed like the only thing on any of their minds was sex. They talked about it openly, praising some clients for their skills while denigrating others, discussing earnestly the various merits of different implements and even dragging one another into dark alcoves to test various theories in private. The last happened so frequently that Kano had already given up trying to sneak into dark corners in order to evesdrop.

Lost in thought as he stalked the underground hallways, Kano was startled by a sudden scream. Of course, screaming also wasn’t an uncommon sound in the temple but the nature of the scream was an entirely different tenor to the usual cries for more. The sudden chill that swept through his bones put a more urgent swing in Kano’s step before he broke into a flat out run towards the noise as the terrified screams pierced his ears. Pushing past several startled girls peering around a corner to try and see what was going on from a safe distance, Kano sprinted down the hall and hit the door without pausing, breaking the old wood as he burst into the room.

Kano barely recognized Inkfinger, though not even the girl’s perfumes could overpower the stench of rotting flesh that assaulted his nostrils. The lower half of the ghost’s face had rotted completely away, leaving a long, sinuous, tongue-tentacle protruding from the gaping hole in his neck. Necrotic grey flesh wept mysterious black liquid, particularly from the skeletal hands protruding from the sleeves of his dirt-encrusted scholar’s robe which stained the girl’s dress where he touched her. Stringy black hair fell across his face as he turned, a dark-haired girl clutched in his grip as his tongue wormed across her cheek, trying to slip into her mouth. The room was typical of a prostitute’s dormitory, well appointed but not rich, with a simple bed, closet and dressing table covered in vials, boxes and potions of various types as well as a mirror for the application of makeup.

“Kano,” Inkfinger’s creepy, spectral, voice gurgled weirdly from his ruined throat. “I see the puppet, from whence the puppeteer?”

“U-unhand her, ghost,” Kano stammered, cursing the weakness in his voice, “Tetsu left me in charge here.”

Inkfinger’s eyes flashed red for a moment, one hand slowly moving to the dark hole where Bonzo’s sword had pierced his chest. “Really? Actually, I have a bone to pick with your master, maybe two. If you’d kindly tell me where he is, I’ll let you live.”

“Really?” Kano asked, mimicking Inkfinger’s inflection, crossing his arms over his chest for effect. “Tell me, what piece of third rate theatre did you get that threat from? I’ve had better from school bullies.”

Snarling, Inkfinger threw the girl onto the bed, whirling around to charge Kano, claws outstretched. Startled at the ghost’s sudden ferocity, Kano took a step backwards, hit his heel on the doorjamb and toppled out of the room. Unable to check his momentum, Inkfinger smacked face first into the wall, one of his eyeballs popping out from the force of the impact to skitter wetly across the floor.

Rolling over, Kano scrambled across the floor as Infinger raged, lashing out blindly at everything around him. His claws tore long furrows from the walls, shredded what remained of the door and tore the handles off the nearby closet. The girl curled up in a corner behind the bed, crying and whimpering. Reaching the dresser, Kano pulled himself to his feet, grabbed the heaviest bottle on the table and pitched it at Inkfinger with every ounce of strength he could muster.

The heavy crystal bottle glanced off Inkfinger’s chest, splashing him with perfume as the stopper came undone with the impact then landed on the floor with a dull thud, seemingly too tough to shatter. Suddenly still, Inkfinger looked down at the bottle as if wondering where it had come from before raising his eyes to glare at Kano, who grabbed another item off the table and hefted it over his shoulder. “You want more?” Kano shouted, pitching the box at the ghost, his throw amateurish and limp-wristed. The box bounced off the wall, spraying Inkfinger with a cloud of mascara.

Screaming, the cold fire of hatred literally burned in Inkfinger’s empty socket as he charged, this time more cautiously. Kano managed to hit the ghost with a second vial that shattered when it hit the floor before Inkfinger lunged in a long, sweeping, slash with his left claw. Unfortunately, it was a bit too long, allowing even Kano’s untrained reflexes to duck the blow, the sharp nails promptly embedding themselves several inches into the wall.

“I’ll kill you!” Inkfinger threatened, yanking hard on his left arm to no avail while he attempted futilely to slash around his own body with the right. Realizing his opponent was stuck, Kano rolled to his feet, grabbed the chair that sat next to the dressing table, strained to lift it over his head and brought it down on Inkfinger’s back. Rather than breaking apart, however, it merely bounced back, smacking the former male prostitute in the face.

“Ow!” Kano protested, clutching his nose. “Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Oh, gods, I think I’m bleeding…”

“WHEN I GET FREE, I’M GOING TO BISECT YOU FROM YOUR NECK TO YOUR BALLS!” Inkfinger roared, planting one rotting foot on the wall to try and force himself free.

“Yeah? How’s that been working out for you so far?” Kano quipped, breathing hard as he hefted the chair again.

A momentary splintering sound was all that heralded Inkfinger’s sudden lurch as he pulled his hand free along with the chunk of the wall that his claws were still stuck to. With the walking corpse off balance, Kano took the opportunity to strike with the chair but the ghost battered the blow aside, tearing the chair from his grasp. Lurching forward, his movements slowed by the dead weight on his left arm, Inkfinger reached for him, forcing Kano to backpedal towards the bed.

Stalling, Kano grabbed the pillows off the bed and flung them at Inkfinger, the ghost’s free claw shredding them in an explosion of feathers. Howling, it vented its frustrations on the dressing table, smashing the mirror and scattering the desk’s contents over the floor. Glancing back again, searching for anything that might help, Kano’s eyes fell on the most welcome sight of his life: a six inch long dagger that had rested under the girl’s pillows.

He grabbed the blade just as Inkfinger lunged, crying out as the claws grazed his shoulder while he slashed the ghost across the chest. Inkfinger howled in pain disproportionate from the size or depth of the wound, clutching his chest as it began to smoke. Blinking stupidly, Kano watched as the black ichor evaporated from the blade. Howling again, the ghost reeled away, whirling in circles before leaping out through the window, plunging out of sight.

Kano sat on the bed before his knees gave out by themselves, the dagger clattering on the floor as it slipped from his fingers. A moment later, the girl was pressed against him, her arms wrapped around his neck. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” She repeated, squeezing him hard even though he seemed totally oblivious. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t stopped him! Oh, gods! You’re wounded!”

Shaking his head, Kano looked down at the cuts on his shoulder, blood soaking into the sleeve of his robe. “Yes, I think I’m bleeding,” he observed, moments before blacking out.

#

The Majordomo of the Cynis mansion wrung his hands nervously as he approached the bathhouse, his mistress’ moans of ecstasy rising in volume with every step.

“…OH GODS! YES! RIGHT THERE! OOOOOH…”

The guards stood to attention as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, their faces blankly alert for any sign of trouble as they flanked the door. “I… I need to see Lady Delani,” the Majordomo requested, forced to pause for a particularly ardent cry.

“…YES! YES! YES! OH GODS I’M GOING TO... TO…”

The guards gave each other a knowing glance before the closest leaned over to speak into his ear. “Sir, I trust that what you have to tell her must be really, really, really important for you to even ask. But please, take my advice and let whatever it is wait until morning.”

“…AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

A sudden, awkward silence followed, each moment stretching out to minutes as they waited.

“Well,” the Majordomo whispered, “maybe I can…”

“Shhh!” The guard hushed him. “Wait for it.”

The other guard started to grin. “Looks like you owe me five Obols.”

“Waaaaait for it…”

“WHAT? AGAIN? PLEASE, YES, AGAIN!”

“Yeddim farts,” the other guard swore as the racket started all over again.

“Would you like to enter the pool, sir?” The first guard inquired. “The count’s up to seven now, highest bet is thirteen, minimum buy-in three Obols.”

Stroking his beard, the Majordomo considered the offer for a moment. “Put me on nine for seven Obols.”

“As you wish, sir.”

Chapter 14

Tetsu wiped the corner of his mouth as he dropped into the bushes outside the bathhouse, leaving through a window to avoid the guards outside the door, trying not to think about what had just happened. Lady Delani lay unconscious inside, overstimulated after several hours of lovemaking. Looking back over what little sexual experience he’d had, Tetsu had never in his wildest dreams imagined that any man could have that effect on a woman, much less find that power resting in his own hands. Shaking himself to snap out of it, he forced his introspective thoughts to one side and focussed on the task at hand.

As it turned out, escape was a relatively simple matter. Only a token force had been left to guard the mansion and the patrols were no longer in the streets. The mysterious Solar thief had done Tetsu a grand favour, though the wanderer knew there had to be a reckoning for what he’d done. He didn’t allow himself to believe that the other Solar had been killed by the dragonbloods, he simply wasn’t that lucky. In the end, however, he simply grabbed some tools from the garden shed and walked through the front gate mumbling something about needing repairs done.

Taking the long route down the stairs to Low Town, Tetsu discarded the tools behind a bush before following the cliff along to where he’d dropped the sacks, discovering them stuck safely halfway up a tree. Fortunately, the trees were old and strong, enabling him to climb up and retrieve his loot easily. Back on the ground, he opened the sack full of scrolls, quickly leafing through the contents to discover a plethora of local maps, some ancient while others seemed brand new. Leaving those to one side for later study, he opened the second sack.

The richest that Tetsu had ever been was at the height of his stint running the gladiatorial arenas in Nexus. Even then, he’d pulled only a modest wage, enough to be taken seriously as a merchant while not enough to make him an attractive target for blackmailers and thieves. Most of it had been sunk back into his investments anyway, likely sized after his disappearance from Nexus’ political sphere. Inside the sack in his hands, however, lay more money than he’d ever seen in his life, discounting the possible value of Cathak Markul’s Daiklave.

Bits, Obols and Shekels were mixed in with silver Dinars and stacks of Jade Script, enough money to buy River’s Bend several times over. Thinking back to the moment he’d burst into the room and surprised the thief, Tetsu recalled several empty boxes piled sloppily in a corner of the room. The other Solar had gone for the money first, despite the fact that his true objective had been the scrolls. Either it was a diversion to disguise his true objective or the man was just easily tempted and ultimately sloppy.

The problem, however, was exactly what to do with a sack full of money. It wasn’t the sort of thing one could just carry around without attracting attention. In the end, he wedged it in a crack in the cliff face and rolled a large rock over to conceal it, shoving only a few Dinars into his pockets before continuing on with the sack full of scrolls.

Creeping through the streets of Low Town again, Tetsu almost felt naked without the giant sword resting on his shoulders. The wave of nostalgia passed, however, when the sight of Menji’s reminded him of several moments of pure, knee-trembling, terror that he’d experienced only a few days before. Everything was the same as it had been, only it seemed so different from the wanderer’s new perspective. For the first time, Tetsu was confronted by just how much he’d changed as he stepped up o Menji’s door and knocked.

“Piss off!” Menji’s cranky old voice called, as eloquent as ever. “We’re closed!”

“Even to an old ghost?” Tetsu asked through the door, grinning.

There was a long pause before the door opened a crack. Menji peered out at him, worry and fear plain on his face. “Especially to old ghosts,” the old man whispered. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“Are you surprised or disappointed?” Tetsu quipped, glad to see the old man again.

“Bah,” Menji growled, regaining his nerve, “I’m elated. I get the chance to poison your rice again. Get in here before someone spots you, idiot.”

Tetsu felt the same sense of strangeness stepping inside Menji’s house again. In some ways, the room felt more like home than anywhere he’d ever been. Some things were different, however. For starters, there were three bedrolls stacked in one corner, as if the old man were expecting guests, and a large backpack that seemed to be stuffed with shoes of remarkable quality. Looking around the room, Tetsu couldn’t help but notice Menji’s new sandals, humble in nature but of deceptively superb quality and refinement.

“What in all of Malfeas is going on here? You actually have lodgers you haven’t driven away yet?” Tetsu asked.

Menji snorted, sitting back down where his food sat at the table. “Yes, I think they’d be delighted to meet you too. If you’re hungry grab a bowl for yourself.”

“I just ate,” Tetsu begged off. Sliding into the seat opposite him, Tetsu noticed that the old man’s chopsitcks wavered as he lifted the rice to his mouth. “I’m no ghost, Menji. By the way, your son is alive and well.”

The old man choked a little on his rice. “Where is Kano?”

“Safe, he’s helping me.”

The admission made Menji look even more worried. “Helping you do what exactly? You got rid of Red Wolf and White Crane, now the dragonbloods are moving in… shouldn’t you be running as far away from this place as you can? Everyone believes you’re dead… and I don’t know, maybe you did die and you really are a ghost.”

Tetsu’s eyes narrowed. “What in all Creation are you blathering about? I’m no ghost… surely you heard what happened at Red Wolf’s mansion?”

“I heard you Exalted and fell off a cliff,” Menji glared back at him, “but now I have to wonder… you’ve the smell of the grave on you, Tetsu. Did you Exalt then die or die and become Exalted?”

“You know about the Exalted?” Tetsu asked, his entire view of the man before him suddenly turned upside down and shaken.

“Maybe you even managed to fool me this entire time,” Menji sighed, “perhaps you were even dead before we first met.”

“You’ve gone mad,” Tetsu growled, shaking himself. “Old man, you’re talking crazy!”

“Am I?” Menji asked, his entire tone and manner changing abruptly, his gaze suddenly focussing sharply on Tetsu’s face. “Consider this likely chain of events, then ‘my friend’. Consider the tale of one of the Chosen, outside of Fate and an avowed enemy of all Creation. He discovers a lone Terrestrial, a traitor to the Realm, on a lonely road. Seeing an opportunity to complete his mission, he slays the Terrestrial with a spell powerful enough to cloud the vision of Heaven itself. Stealing the Terrestrial’s regalia, he insinuates himself into the company of one of the few beings that may just be able to put him on the path to his real target. His plans go awry, however, with the arrival of the Chosen of the Maidens. Near death, he crawls away to lick his wounds, taking what that being holds most dear as a hostage… is that your plan, Tetsu? What I know in exchange for my son?”

Not knowing what to say, Tetsu just stared, at a loss for words. It took a moment for his brain to catch up with everything that Menji had said, linking it to the pieces of the puzzle that he knew while highlighting several rather gaping holes in he knowledge that he never knew existed. “I think there’s been some sort of misunderstanding here and I have no idea where to start,” Tetsu sighed. “I’m not holding Kano hostage. He’s safe. I’d tell you where but the less you know, the better for the both of you. If he can be discrete, I’ll let him come and tell you everything in his own words, even. Also, I did not kill Cathak Markul and I have no idea how you’ve gotten it into your head that I did.”

“Even if that’s true, Tetsu, I can no longer afford to trust you,” Menji stated bluntly.

“I could say the same thing… Menji. Is that your real name? Not that it matters. What are you? Little God? Elemental? Fair Folk? Does Kano know what he really is or did you just adopt him?”

“If you’re after the Oracle’s Trove, understand that I will not be moved by sentimentality,” Menji intoned gravely, “I will allow Kano and myself to die before I aid anyone in unearthing that terror.”

“I don’t give a yeddim fart in high wind for your Trove, old man,” Tetsu growled. Standing, he hoisted the sack over his shoulder and shook his head. “This is a waste of time. I’ll come back once you return to your senses.”

Storming out of the house, Tetsu retained enough control to close the door gently behind him so as not to disturb and nosy neighbours. Stalking through the streets, his mind turned over everything Menji had said trying to make sense out of it and failing miserably. As he walked off his anger, it became clear that there were things he didn’t know, great gaping pieces of the puzzle that needed to be filled. Red Wolf and White Crane had been swept from the board only for the stakes to be raised and new players to take their seats. Most glaring, however, was Menji’s near admission that he knew something about the Oracle’s Trove and feared its discovery enough to die before divulging what he knew.

What Tetsu missed most was that sense of homely familiarity that had been shattered by a single conversation. The idea that he could somehow return to a more ‘innocent’ existence away from the troubles and responsibility that came with his Exaltation was blown away like a candle in a hurricane. Shaking his head at his own folly, he glanced up at the night sky, estimating that he only had a few hours of darkness left to sneak back up to the Temple. Thought of the temple made his mind wander to the face of the dark-haired beauty he’d passed in the hallway with her wondrously blue almond eyes.

Making his decision, Tetsu turned back, intent on retrieving his ill gotten gains and returning to the temple to pour over the scrolls… or maybe find some comfort before the night was done.

#

Aten was swearing like a Lintha pirate as he stormed back into Menji’s house, discarding his black head scarf and flinging it hard against the wall. Kamaria followed him inside while Valdis trailed behind, closing the door behind her and peeking out through the window to make sure they weren’t being followed. Menji had placed rice and Sake out on the table for them, somehow knowing when they would return.

“Busy night?” Menji asked ingenuously, picking at the rice in his bowl using his chopsticks with delicate expertise.

The blonde solar dropped, cross-legged, opposite Menji in a huff. “It started well. The dragonbloods were distracted by the party for Dragonlord Delani like you said, so sneaking past the mortal soldiers was a relatively simple matter. You also accurately predicted the location of their strongroom in the Cynis mansion, it was child’s play getting through the window. I was just about to evacuate with everything that wasn’t nailed down when some scar-faced idiot disguised as a servant breaks down the door!”

“Please keep your voice down,” Valdis advised without turning from her vigil.

Hopping back onto his feet, Aten paced as he continued, keeping his voice level. “He tried to parley but I caught the same scent of defiled Essence that had killed one of my friends. I attacked but he was surprisingly strong and he used the Dark Messiah Style. I’ll admit, I lost my head and drew upon too much Essence casting Blazing Solar Bolt, an attack that cannot be blocked or avoided normally but he countered using Seven Shadow Evasion. When the guards arrived, my anima banner was flaring like a fireworks display and the next thing I knew I was running from a score of dragonbloods screaming ‘anathema’, leaving scar-face with all the loot. Fortunately I lost them, thanks to Valdis and Kamaria here.”

Kamaria acknowledged his thanks with a nod.

Sighing, Menji drained his Sake in one gulp. “Did he really use Dark Messiah Style? Are you sure of this?”

“Positive,” Aten confirmed. “I have a very short list of things that might be powerful enough to kill my friend in the way he was killed. A powerful Deathknight with access to Void Circle Necromancy is one of them and scar-face reeked with the same essence signature that had been left on my friend’s corpse.”

“I know, I sensed it while he was here,” Menji said, pouring himself more Sake. “It seems you have met Tetsu and, as much as it pains me after everything he did for River’s Bend, I must say that I also now entertain similar suspicions.”

“He was here?!?” Aten asked incredulously, halting in his tracks.

“Both before you arrived several days ago and not a quarter hour before you opened that door just now,” Menji confirmed. “Now sit and eat, all of you, while I tell you the whole story.”

#

Muttering a constant string of curses under her breath, Feather grit her teeth as she concentrated on the job of working the stains out of the clothes in her tub. Every muscle screamed in protests and she rubbed the cloth up and down over the washing board, having gone for hours without a break. The marks on her heels burned, though the wounds weren’t as painful for her as they might have been to a mortal girl, they still kept her from resting her feet. It didn’t help that the work was dull, repetitive and demeaning, considering that she simply didn’t want to know what half of the stains she was cleaning actually were.

She jumped when she felt a large hand rest on her shoulder, hopping back several steps on one foot as she whirled around until she regained her balance. Feather found herself staring at a broad, muscular, chest barely covered by a tight black servant’s robe that had been torn in several places. It wa the chest of a man used to labour and certainly, if the scars were any indication, a man that was no stranger to a fight.

“Sorry,” Tetsu apologized, touching her elbow gently despite the obvious strength in his arms, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Raising her eyes to his face, Feather found a pair of soulful brown eyes looking down at her. Feather had to wonder if those eyes really belonged to another face, one that had been disfigured years ago and healed badly. Remembering herself, she lowered her eyes. “No need to apologize to me, master. What do you wish of me?”

The madam chose that moment to impose herself on the conversation, clearing her throat meaningfully. “I’m sorry, sir, is there a problem?”

“No problem,” Tetsu answered without looking at her. “Sanejin gave me permission to take any girl that I wanted as a personal servant. I’ve chosen this girl.”

It took all of Feather’s self control not to smile. The charm she’d used to link their fates was one of the deadliest social weapons in all of Creation. The Sidereals called it ‘Cash and Murder Games’, the ability to link the fate of two beings so that one would define themselves in a relationship to the other of the Sidereal’s choosing. In this case, Feather had chosen her caste’s specialty: love. Whether he knew it or not, Feather already had him wrapped around her little finger.

“As our master wills… but sir, frankly, we have much better girls on offer more worthy of your attentions,” the madam protested.

“What?” Tetsu asked, turning his head slowly to face her.

“I-I only mean to say that she is new and inexperienced, if your tastes run that way I can offer you some rare maidens who…”

Tetsu interrupted her by raising his hand, looking down Feather’s body until he noticed the light bloodstains on the floor under her feet. “You whipped her?”

“You must understand, sir, sometimes it’s necessary to motiva…”

Her words broke off when Tetsu grabbed her ear and introduced her face to the side of the cast iron washing tub. She didn’t have much to say after that, falling flat on her back unconscious. Feather squeaked when Tetsu picked her up and carried her out the door, barely able to get her arms around his bull-like neck to support herself.

“Um, you really don’t have to carry me, sir,” Feather said, panicking a little, “I can walk, my feet don’t hurt that much.”

“Be still,” he snapped, “I won’t allow you to suffer needlessly.”

Feather’s heart jumped in her chest. For a moment, she considered ordering him to put her down but discarded the idea and simply forced herself to relax. He was right, after all, her feet hurt like she’d been walking the acid wastes of Malfeas for days. So she tried to let herself relax and be carried and within moments was surprised to discover that she was actually comfortable in his arms. Arriving in Tetsu’s room actually came as a disappointment when he placed her gently down next to the bath.

“Wash,” he ordered, “I’ll get some medicine and a new robe.”

She watched his back until he entered the wardrobe, hugging her legs to stave off the sudden feeling of vulnerability. Gods, Feather, she admonished herself mentally, you’re one of the Chosen of Venus, by all the Maidens, stop acting like a frightened virgin! It helped a little, so she stood gingerly and disrobed, lowering herself into the warm water.

Academically, Feather knew that being a woman didn’t matter. Women across Creation were the equals of men, few cultures made significant distinctions based on gender and even when they did both genders were equally valued. Feather harboured no gender bias, it was a laughable concept that one was greater than the other. Despite this, or perhaps because of Tetsu’s sheer bulk, she felt small and weak in a way she hadn’t felt since her exaltation. Even this didn’t make any sense, she was a martial artist, a noted warrior, one of the Chosen and she had her target right where she wanted him.

But now he wants you in his bed, her inner critic reminded her, the bed that you made for yourself.

Scowling at the thought, she shook herself. There was no way she was going to allow Tetsu, or ANYONE, to bed her. She resolved to use him up then kill him quickly, it might piss off Mistress Ura but the longer he was around the harder it would be to keep coming up with excuses to deny him and even Cash and Murder Games doesn’t last forever. Like it or not, he was still a Solar. Even if he was only a baby relatively, he could be compared to a baby at the controls of the Realm Defence Grid, dangerous and ultimately uncontrollable.

Breathing deep, she allowed the water to relax her, regaining hold of her emotions. The stress of the day had distracted her from the task at hand along with his overprotective reaction to her plight, which she convinced herself was flattering but misguided. Perhaps she was getting too deep into her role as the submissive prostitute as well. It was no matter, Rage would never forgive Tetsu for surviving his attack, the Solar didn’t know it but he was living on borrowed time. Tetsu was the apple waiting to be sliced and Feather was the worm eating away at its core… she just had to extricate herself before she got cut along with him.

Tetsu returned with a wooden bucket and a metal box, dressed in a loose black cotton robe and pants. Sitting a few feet away from her on the edge of the pool, he set his equipment down and held out his hand. “Your feet, please.”

Bowing her head, she tried to keep most of her body below the waterline where it would be obscured and eased her feet up onto his knee, resting her head on the edge of the pool. She winced a little when he gently probed the swollen skin. “You’re lucky,” he informed her, “it seems to be more bruise than cut and while the skin is broken, it’s not infected. I’ll clean it now and dress it when you’re done bathing, the pain should be nothing but a bad memory by morning.”

“You have done this before, sir?” She asked.

“You learn to take care of your own injuries after some time on the road,” he informed her, “I haven’t always had the luxury of proper medicines. And don’t call me sir or master or any of that nonsense. My name is Tetsu.”

“I… as you wish, Tetsu, my name is Feather,” she introduced herself.

He retrieved a small bottle of liquid from the box and applied it to a clean cloth. “Forgive me, Feather but this is going to sting a bit.”

Holding her feet firmly, he washed her soles gently with a separate cloth before applying the cleansing agent to the cuts. Feather hissed as it stung but endured the pain for the sake of healing. “Thank you,” she said, “for this… and for getting me out of that place.”

“A woman of your beauty shouldn’t be doing laundry,” Tetsu muttered darkly.

Feather’s heart skipped a beat. “I… forgive me but I’m nothing special here. There are plenty of beautiful women in the Temple.”

“You’re wrong,” he rebuked gently. “The moment I saw you, I knew you were different. The other girls might be pleasing to the eye but they don’t have your grace or inner confidence, the fire that you suppress because the world has taught you that others don’t like to be challenged. Then you looked at me over your shoulder and I saw your eyes, perfect and deep… your shell may be exquisite but it is what’s inside that makes you perfect.”

Squirming a little as her heart fluttered, Feather took a deep breath though it was hard to find words that could do the sincerity in his voice justice. “Er… I don’t know what to say,” she said breathily.

“Don’t say anything,” he said, smiling, “your presence is all the thanks I require.”

They sat in silence for a while as Tetsu attended to her wounds while Feather tried to think up a delicate way to broach the subject of his history. “So,” she finally mustered the courage to say, “what brought you to River’s Bend?”

“My feet,” Tetsu quipped. “Honestly, I’ve been walking east for so long, I’m not sure I’ll know how to stop when the time comes.”

She frowned, thinking of the giant, infinite, forest that marked the edge of Creation where the East met the Wyld, a region of trees vast in width and infinitely tall, stretching into the sky and down into the darkness forever, beyond which lay the Deep Wyld and almost certain death at the hands of the Raksha. “From where do you hail?”

“Originally, I don’t remember. I was young when I was forced to run from my home and… the memories are unclear. Most of my growing up happened on the streets of Nexus. Do you know of Nexus?”

“I have heard a little about it, though some of the stories seem fantastical,” she lied. In fact, Feather had been to Nexus many times, it was after all one of the largest trade hubs in all of Creation and many Sidereals were frequent visitors for one reason or another.

“I’d be willing to bet those stories aren’t entirely inaccurate,” he said, chuckling. “Nexus is a place of wonder… and horror.”

“Was that where you got the scars?” She asked before realizing she’d been too bunt. “No, I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

He shrugged. “Old wounds. A little while after arriving at Nexus I formed a, well, gang of street kids. I had the strength to stand up for myself and the brains to make life a little better for people who were on my side. Enslaving people might be illegal in Nexus but that doesn’t mean its safe, there are plenty of other predators lurking in the back alleyways waiting for the helpless to make bad choices. My group took in kids that made it over the line into the city proper. I got a line on fresh water running a con but there’s never enough fresh water for all the poor in the city. My gang took in a girl, she was pretty and smart, someone with a real shot at making something of herself with the right connections. When water was short I gave her my ration… and drank sump water. This is the result.”

Feather’s heart ached for him, though it was obviously a well-healed memory the way he talked about it. “What happened to the girl?”

His expression became solemn. “She became a dancer and eventually a rich man’s concubine. One of her master’s business rivals had her infected with White Sun Sickness. I flogged him skinless and buried him in salt.”

“I… I don’t… know what to say,” Feather admitted hesitantly.

“Then say nothing, that was a different life,” he said, lowering her feet back into the water once he was finished. “I got you some soap, feel free to take your time.”

Blinking, she stared after him as he got up and walked away. “Wait, you’re not going to bathe with me?”

He paused and looked over his shoulder. “No,” he answered simply before crossing to the other side of the room.

Frowning, Feather ducked her head under the water to get her hair wet, wondering what in all the green hells was going through his mind. What sort of man ‘rescues’ a girl, carries her back to his room, insists that she bathes and then leaves her alone? She was starting to think he might prefer the company of other men by the time she was done, particularly considering that her bath highlighted for her exactly how attractive her new body was. If so, he might have interpreted the effect of her charm as brotherly love, which would be perfect for her. Drying off and quickly brushing out her hair, she donned the silk robe he’d brought for her while standing on the balls of her feet, her heels still throbbing from the cleansing agent.

“Tetsu?” She called, poking her head around the corner of the room, finding the solar studying an ancient scroll. “What are you doing?”

“Pardon me,” he said, rolling the scroll back up and placing it on a neat pile of documents, “but the less you know, the better it would be for you. How are you feeling?”

“My feet still hurt,” she sighed, “but the bath really helped, thank you.”

“Maybe I can do something about that,” he told her, standing and gesturing to the bed, “take a seat.”

Her pulse quickened but she complied, wondering what he had in mind. Tetsu knelt in front of her and picked up her feet again. Gently, he began to rub his thumbs on the balls and arch of her sole, avoiding her heels. At first the pressure made Feather jump but slowly she could feel every muscle in her body turning to jelly, including those muscles she wasn’t ever aware were tense. Leaning back, she moaned. “Oh gods, did you learn this in Nexus?”

“No,” he answered, chuckling, “I’ve always taken work where it could be found, you’d be amazed what you can learn just by wandering from place to place.”

“Mmmm… I bet this makes you popular with the women.”

Sighing, he shook his head. “Perhaps you haven’t seen my face? I lost my virginity to a paid prostitute a long time ago… I wasn’t with a girl for a long time until recently.”

“Who was she?” Feather inquired, half out of genuine curiosity and half pumping him for information.

“Sanejin’s daughters,” he answered, rolling his eyes, “given as a gift the day I came here, all five of them.”

Feather’s heart started to hammer against her ribcage, the rush of blood bringing a flush of warmth to her skin. “Five god-bloods? At once?”

He nodded. “Right here, in this bed.”

Beathing hard, Feather’s extensive experience in the arts of love as a member of the Bureau of Serenity worked against her as she imagined the scene. “H-How did you…”

She paused when his eyes met hers, his gaze intense, level and heated. “Well,” he began in a low voice, “I like to start here.” Leaning in closer, he ran one hand up her calf while turning his head so that his lips could kiss the inside of her knee. Feather gasped, jumping slightly as a sharp tingle of elation crawled over her skin. A second kiss along with a quick brush of his tongue brought a stronger reaction as Feather drew a sudden intake of breath.

Her skin started to ache as his hands moved up her body to her hips, parting her legs as she stared numbly, caught between wanting to tell him to stop and the desire to beg him for more. Conflicting thoughts fled entirely, however, when he rose to his knees between her legs, reverently opening her robe to expose her breasts, sucking one into his mouth as he rolled his remarkably prehensile tongue around the nipple.

Feather’s back arched as she pressed her soft flesh against his hardened muscle, hands clinging to his back as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Creation tilted wildly as she sank back into the bed with him on top of her, driven by pure instinct, the organ between her legs pulsing in time with her heartbeat, wet, ready and practically begging to be used. Almost as if he knew exactly what her body needed, he shifted his mouth’s attentions to her neck as he slid one hand between her legs. Her hips started moving of their own accord as Feather cried out in ecstasy, the strange but effective technique he was using with his fingers combined with the feel of his lips on her neck making little bursts of pleasure pop though her body like fireworks.

“Yes, yes, yes… please, I need you so badly,” she begged, pure desire crawling through her body like an army of fire ants.

Pulling away, Tetsu drank her beauty as she opened herself to him, her small hands sliding over his chest while her striking blue eyes pleaded with him for release. Opening his robe, her eyes swept down her body until her gaze alighted on his crotch, the sheer size and girth of which made her gasp in disbelief. Smirking, he grasped her slender waist with his large hands, gently pressing and massaging her abdomen. She didn’t have enough time to wonder if she could accommodate him as her insides turned to quivering jelly thanks to whatever his hands were doing to her stomach. Feather moaned and writhed again, closing her eyes as pure sensation enveloped her like a warm blanket.

When his thrust came, she screamed, eyes snapping open as her whole body arched. It didn’t hurt at all like she was expecting, her body quivering as pure bliss suffused her soul like golden light. For a moment, a vision of ultimate perfection passed across her eyes and she saw the beauty inherent in Creation, freedom and all things held sacred until she was filled with a warm, golden, light that never seemed to end.

#

“Delani, wake up!”

The Dragonlord stretched languidly, feeling better than she’d ever had in her entire life. She could feel every strand of the fabric of the divan she was lying on, every muscle relaxed without a hint of tension and her mind sharp and crystal clear. It was like being pleasantly drugged only without any downside. “Mmmm, what is it Agani? You have got to try the new concubine, he’s… oh gods, you’re just going to have to feel it for yourself, words can’t describe.”

Opening her eyes, Delani had to stare at her second in command for a few moments even in her accelerated state to take everything in. Agani looked like she’d been on a thousand league hard march, her hair was a total mess with mud and twigs stuck in tangles, her armour was soiled and her face was covered in grime and dirt. There were black marks around her eyes from lack of sleep and blood on her gauntlets.

Sighing, Delani sat up and crossed her legs, not allowing her nakedness to phase her in the slightest. “Very well, report.”

Agani dropped to one knee. “My Lady, shortly after you retired from the party last night, Sarro and I heard a disturbance on the third floor. We gathered what soldiers we could and ran to the source, which turned out to be the strongroom. There we discovered one of the Unclean ransacking the paychest and any documents it could find, threatening a servant. It ran and we gave chase, though the soldiers were left behind. Sarro rallied the remaining Dragonbloods at the party who came charging into the forest after us. I’m sorry, My Lady, but we lost track of him. The other Dragonbloods have gathered what forces available to them from their households and are conducting a search of the surrounding woodlands.”

“And the blood?” Delani inquired.

“I ran into an enraged Boar,” Agani answered with some disgust, “I had to kill the filthy animal, that’s how the Anathema got away from me.”

Delani stood. “And what did you tell Sarro about those documents?”

“That they were only accounts and pay records.”

Breathing a heavy sigh, the Dragonlord began to pace. “I don’t like it, Agani. We’re playing this game far too close to our chests. Now that an Anathema is involved, our lies are only going to compound themselves. Thank the gods for these local idiots.”

“There’s more to the story,” Agani sighed. “When I returned, I went back to the strongroom and told the Captain to bring the soldiers that were rendered unconscious to me for questioning. We’d arrived in time to prevent the Unclean from his theft but when I’d returned the money and the documents were gone, despite a guard having been left both inside and outside the room. When I questioned the guards, they claimed that a large, ugly, man with facial scars disguised as a servant beat them all down despite being unarmed.”

Delani stopped pacing, feeling the sense memory of the concubine’s rough cheeks on her inner thighs. The rest of the memories that came with it were more pleasant. “So we have an Anathema, who fails to rob us and gather intelligence and some sort of spy who took advantage of the situation to make off with what the Anathema was after while everyone else was distracted? He must be the luckiest spy in all Creation.”

“I’m not so sure. Remember those rumours about the wanderer that supposedly was an Anathema that caused the landslide that destroyed the local militia? I’ve heard he was a large, extremely strong, man who could wield a jadesteel daiklave.”

“Two Anathema? Highly unlikely,” Delani said, a worrying suspicion gnawing at the back of her mind.

“I agree, plenty of beings could be capable of impersonating a dragonblood and causing a landslide. A second Anathema would be the worse case scenario, however, I thought it was important to entertain the possibility.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Delani concluded, “we need to keep our eye on the objective. Where’s Sarro now?”

“Checking on our increasingly gravid prisoner,” Agani answered.

“Good, that stroke of luck will keep her busy. If she feels like contributing, get her to help co-ordinate the glory hounds. With any luck, they’ll deal with the Anathema or at least keep it off our backs long enough to complete the mission. Once we have the Oracle’s Treasure, all other considerations become moot. I’ll organize things here, you tell Misari that she needs to hurry… oh and please have the guards outside send for my Majordomo, I think he and I need to have a little chat.”

Agani rose to her feet, bowed in crisp military acknowledgement of her superior’s orders and walked out with new purpose.

#

“…and that was the last I saw of Tetsu.” Menji finished his story, his three exalted guests staring at him incredulously.

“Old man,” Aten broached after a long, drawn out, silence, “please allow me to recap that tale briefly. You’re telling me that a large, brutish, con-artist with the strength to throw a daiklave around waltzing into town, humiliates the local militia then plays them off against the local organized crime ring. He then works his way into the employ of the criminals, who turn out to be working with the militia all along, then somehow manages to drop a mountain on both groups, shattering their power base while duelling with an enlightened martial artist on the cliff face as it collapses? And all of this because you begged him to help your town, no strings attached?”

“Never mind that you placed your trust and aided his hare-brained scheme,” Valdis added.

“You’re talking like I had a choice!” Menji growled. “I wasn’t exactly inundated with exalted last week, you know. He was what I had to work with and the situation was getting more desperate by the hour. No, I didn’t completely trust him and I didn’t tell him everything, in fact I tested him on numerous occasions. I don’t know how he could have fooled me, yesterday I would have sworn to you that he was as mortal as any of the louts roaming the streets… though that would have done him a severe injustice. You say his schemes were hare-brained and maybe they were but he made them work! Besides, I told you that the landslide wasn’t his doing. That was the Sidereals that have been snooping around.”

“But you admit that he openly associated with the ghost of a murdered man,” Kamaria pressed, “and wielded a daiklave. Doesn’t his sheer competency cast just as much suspicion, particularly in light of the events at Red Wolf’s mansion?”

“Yes, yes,” Menji assented, “I agree that it all looks very suspicious. I assumed that something had happened inside the mansion that caused him to exalt before he died but… as much as I hate to say it, his return places all those events in a new light. I would like to point out that mistrust could undo everything at this point. If I cannot trust Tetsu then how can I trust you three? Moreover, how can you trust that I’m not still working with Tetsu? The fact is that no-one sitting at this table can be certain of the motives that drive each of the groups we represent. All any of us can do is take calculated risks and hope for the best.”

Aten sighed. “I’ll admit that you have a point. Whatever his motives, the fact remains that Tetsu has the documents that we need to uncover what the Legion is up to. Furthermore, I know that Tetsu was involved in some way with the death of my friend. At the very least, he and I need to have a nice, long, chat.”

“Then let us work on the assumption that he is a Deathknight,” Kamaria interjected. “You mentioned that Tetsu visited a graveyard briedly in your story, honoured Menji. Where is this graveyard?”

“Across the river,” Menji informed, shrugging. “Shanku Toyo Graveyard has a dark reputation, which is well founded, the misery of the village creates many vengeful ghosts. I haven’t been there for years but I wouldn’t be surprised if the influence of the dead could be felt there. Personally, I have enough trouble with the living.”

“A shadowland would be the perfect hiding place,” Valdis concluded.

“Then we get some sleep and hit Shanku Toyo near midday when the Underworld’s power is at its ebb,” Aten said, following the thought to its logical conclusion, “are we agreed?”

Valdis and Kamaria both nodded.

#

Feather woke with her head resting comfortably on Tetsu’s shoulder with the rest of her body wrapped around his. It was almost as if there were some kind of physical force pilling her to him, all she wanted to do was lie there and feel the touch of his skin against her own. Looking up at his serene face, she wondered how she’d ever missed the inner beauty that lay under the mask. Glancing down, she bit her lower lip as the memory of everything they’d done flooded back to her, the sight of his member making her whole body warm.

She smiled as he stirred, his hand sliding down her back, causing a pleasant shiver when it reached her ass. Looking up into his eyes, she melted under his gentle gaze. “Good morning,” he greeted softly, smiling with no small amount of self satisfaction before leaning down to kiss her.

It was all Feather could do to stop herself from humping his leg as they lay joined together. She drank from his lips, thrilled with the expertise of his touch as their tongues flirted with each other. Being there in his arms she felt safe, safer than she’d been for several hundred years. His kiss dispelled the darkness of her fears.

“You’re so beautiful,” Tetsu complimented as they pulled apart, brushing her hair out of her face as an excuse to stroke her cheek. Her beatific smile was intoxicating. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” Feather asked, confused.

“Just for being here,” he answered. He tried to move but her grip tightened reflexively. “It’s ok,” he soothed, “I’m not going far. I’m sorry but I have work to do.”

Reluctantly relaxing her grip, Feather felt the ache of loss as he slid from her arms. She watched him dress, fascinated by the play of muscle across his torso, pulling the blanket around her as she sat up in the bed. “Maybe I can help?” She asked hopefully, part of her genuinely wanting to help while another reminded her why she was really there in the first place.

He sighed. “Only if you can read maps or decipher runes.”

It took a moment for Feather to process what he said. “What?” She asked, her interest suddenly piqued. Sliding her legs over the edge of the bed, she quickly put up her hair and pinned it in place before following him still wrapped in the blanket. His work desk was covered in neatly sorted piles of scrolls, when he rolled one out it revealed not only how ancient the artefact was but a scale map of a familiar region. “This is River’s Bend,” She said, pointing to the river at one edge of the map. The rest of the scroll was covered with streets, buildings, parks and landmarks, all denoted by what Feather recognized as first age High Script. “By the gods, this city must have been enormous! Where did you get this?”

“I stole it from the 23rd Legion,” Tetsu murmured, distracted as he concentrated on the map. “River’s bend must be what remains of the port. You can see the Temple right there, the bridges and the graveyard across the river. Now, look at this,” he said, taking a second scroll off the pile and rolling it out over the first. The second scroll had the same geographical markings but depicted what appeared to be a network of tunnels. “I think this is the sewerage system but take a look at these large tunnels. I’ve been down there, one of those is large enough to take a paddle steamer, this tunnel here must be just mindblowing in proportion.”

He pointed to a long tunnel on the map that was at least three times as wide as the smaller tributaries, though those smaller tunnels had even smaller tunnels branching off of them like veins. The ‘main arterial’ tunnel stretched from where the Temple would be on the map all the way through Mt. Makota and on off the map.

“Wow,” Feather said, unable to encapsulate the scale of what she was seeing.

“Oh, I’m not done,” Tetsu revealed as he rolled out a third scroll of the same geography painted with long, multicoloured, dragons of different proportions arrayed in flowing patterns. “I think this is a map of the city’s geomantic flow. See the main dragon line runs from the river, right down that huge tunnel through Mt. Makota. These other tunnels redirect the excess and vent it down the valley rather than allowing it to pool.”

Feather stared at him. “How did you learn about geomancy?”

He shrugged. “I was a wanderer. Everyone needs cheap labour, especially with big construction projects. I can’t tell you what this means but I picked up the basics, like ‘stagnant essence is bad’.”

Brushing the hair out of her face again, Feather moved closer to him as she retrieved the first map and placed it back on top. “The Palace of Eternal Perfection,” she translated, pointing at the runic script that labelled the building on the map. Drawing her finger southwest down where the main dragon line would flow, she stopped at a second building that took up an entire block. “Bower of the Voice of Heaven,” she translated again before continuing along the line to a lonely building that sat directly at the peak of Mt. Makota itself, “and The Pinnacle Beyond Perfection.”

It was Tetsu’s turn to stare at her in disbelief. “You know High Speech?”

She shrugged modestly. “I wasn’t always a prostitute.”

“I’m starting to think you’re a spy sent to seduce me,” Tetsu quipped. Feather’s heart skipped a beat but he immediately assuaged her panic with another kiss. “Which would just make you sexier,” he breathed lustily. Feather grinned and wrapped her arms around his neck, intent on doing a more through job of kissing him.

She would have succeeded except that Kano chose that moment to throw open the doors as he charged into the room. “Tetsu!” He cried out excitedly. “You are not going to believe what I just found ou… OH!” He ground to a halt as Feather’s baleful glare pinned him to the spot, at a loss for words.

“Not a good time, Kano,” Tetsu sighed, sliding his arm around Feather’s waist.

“Uh, sorry,” Kano apologized sheepishly, “really, though, what I have to tell you is important. Who’s your new friend?”

“Feather, meet Kano, my companion in crime,” Tetsu introduced. “Kano, meet Feather, my companion.”

“Oh, charmed,” Kano muttered, still intimidated by the look Feather was giving him. “Please don’t take offence but maybe she should take her leave so we can talk?”

“No,” Feather rebutted, looking up at Tetsu, “please let me stay and help, Tetsu. You know I can make myself invaluable to you.”

“There was no question of that,” Tetsu agreed. “She stays, Kano. I vouch for her, she’s on our side.”

“All right,” Kano answered, still uneasy about the situation. “Last night I was doing what you asked when I ran into your ghost friend trying to attack one of the girls.”

Tetsu blinked. “Inkfinger?”

“Inkfinger?” Feather inquired.

“The ghost of a scholar that was murdered,” Tetsu explained, “I promised to help him get revenge on his murderer. What’s he doing this far from the graveyard? He should either have passed on or become a mindless beast by now, even if Bonzo survived that landslide he’s either dead or pleasuring some drunken soldier.”

“Oh, I don’t know about mindless but bestial certainly comes to mind,” Kano growled, opening the top of his robe to show the bandage wrapped around his shoulder. “I got between him and a girl called Anko, ring any bells?”

Tetsu had to think for a moment to remember. “Anko… Omeki? Inkfinger’s wife? You’re sure he was trying to hurt her?”

“I’d define a rotting corpse trying to force itself on a girl as ‘hurt’, yeah,” Kano snapped. “We had a fight, if you could call it that, but I finally drove him off with a consecrated dagger that Anko was keeping under her pillow. I passed out after that but the girls took care of me in gratitude. When I woke up, I questioned Anko and she spilled the whole story. Inkfinger’s been lying to us this whole time, Tetsu.”

Looking from one man to the other, Feather sighed. “Ok, I admit, I’m totally lost.”

Tetsu quickly explained how he had met Inkfinger at Menji’s boarding house and how the two of them had joined forces against Red Wolf and White Crane.

“But the whole story about how he was just a lowly scholar who lost his wife was a lie,” Kano explained. “In reality, he and Anko were agents for a group called ‘The All-Seeing Eye’ who suspected the town was a hotbed of treasonous dragonbloods plotting to overthrow the Satrap of Greyfalls. Anko attempted to infiltrate the temple and was caught, so Sanejin added her to his roster.”

“So Bonzo wasn’t just removing an inconvenient client for Red Wolf,” Tetsu mused, “he was cleaning house.”

“Oh, it gets better,” Kano grinned, “according to Anko, Bonzo was their local contact. She blew his cover to Sanejin and the god threatened to expose him unless he turned triple agent. He killed Inkfinger to keep his mouth shut but low and behold, the bastard just doesn’t stay dead! So, the ten jade talent question is, why would he come to you if all Inkfinger wanted was to kill Bonzo? All he’d have to do is send a note to White Crane or Red Wolf, they’d have done it in a heartbeat just on suspicion.”

“That’s a good question,” Tetsu admitted, “but are you sure that Anko’s not lying to you?”

“She was distraught,” Kano defended, “babbling. Yeah, I believe what she said.”

“Well, good work,” Tetsu congratulated him with a slap on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you but Inkfinger’s just a distraction, we have a more promising lead from the documents I retrieved from the Cynis mansion. Next time I run into the ghost, though, he’s going to have some explaining to do.”

Kano nodded soberly as Tetsu explained about the maps. “So we think they’re looking for this treasure everyone keeps talking about?” He queried once the solar was finished.

“Treasure?” Feather asked, her ears pricking up.

“Sanejin says that treasure hunters have been combing the ruins here for centuries looking for some sort of cache of first age artefacts,” Tetsu explained for her benefit, “according to him, none of them have been successful.”

“Look, I know you know what you’re doing Tetsu but why are we explaining all this to a whore?” Kano asked petulantly. “No offence, I used to be one myself.”

Feather glared at him again. “I was exiled here, I’ll have you know,” she lied smoothly, “I was educated by private tutors in Greyfalls. Mother married me off to a southern lout and when I refused to play to his sick fantasies, he sold me to Sanejin. I can translate High Script and I studied languages and history. You need me.”

“Did you used to be a man?” Kano asked glibly, crossing his arms over his chest as his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

“No,” Feather lied again. “Did you think to ask Anko that before you had sex with her?”

Blinking, Kano’s face suddenly went white.

Tetsu laughed. “Oh, man up Kano. Does it really matter? Find what love you can, when and where you can, because every moment of it is precious.”

His speech brought some colour back into Kano’s cheeks while Feather felt butterflies in her stomach and weak in the knees. Inwardly scowling at her childish swooning, she turned back to the maps on the desk and leant over them. “Anyway, what do these signify? The Legion’s obviously looking for this cache and these old maps would be a great start but they’re what, thousands of years old? The geography will have changed, tunnels will have collapsed, the geomancy all messed up, buildings destroyed…”

“The fortifications,” Tetsu interrupted. “They’re not fortifying the city, or at least the fortifications are just another distraction. I’ll bet jade to shells that they’re mapping out the area’s current geomantic lines looking for anomalies. It’s clever, though I have to wonder what they think they’re going to find that all the treasure hunters before them haven’t.”

They were interrupted by a sharp rapping on the door. “Tetsu, it’s Sanejin,” the god called out politely, a note of fear in his voice, “pardon my intrusion but you need to come up to the wall, now.”

“One moment,” Tetsu answered. He gave Feather a quick kiss on the cheek. “Wait for us, don’t worry, I’ll be back,” he reassured her before belting his robe and slipping on some sandals, leaving with Kano close on his heels.

Feather hugged herself as she watched them leave, conflicting thoughts and feelings buzzing around in circles inside her skull. Once she was sure they were out of earshot, she screamed through clenched teeth, grasping her hair and stomping her feet in pure frustration.

“What the hell am I DOING?!?!” She screamed at herself, pacing furiously. An instant later, she paled as the full import of the morning’s activities finally struck. “By all the Maidens, what did I do?”

Feeling butterflies again, she opened her robe and looked down at her stomach before pressing against it gently. Snapping out of it, she ran into the wardrobe and threw open every closet door and drawer until she found the stash of Maiden Tea, quickly setting the water to boil over the fire and started to pace again as she waited.

“Damn it, Feather, he’s a SOLAR,” she admonished herself, “and a man! You need to cure whatever this Eternal Perfection shit is, remember? Rage and Edge are counting on you! Remember?”

Stopping in her tracks again as another realization struck her she wilted and sank into a chair. “Rage and Edge… they’ll kill him. Oh gods, they can’t kill him, I need him! Wait, no… I don’t need him… do I?”

Turning to stare at the door that Tetsu had left from, Feather felt a dull ache in her heart.

Pieces of the mystery surrounding River's Bend begin to fall into place as Tetsu is forced to decide who to trust and Feather begins to deal with her newfound feelings. But as a murderous new warrior walks into town, the only certainty that fate has to offer is suffering...

Fate and the Iron Tiger PART IV
An Exalted Tale by Dr. Bender

Chapter 15

Leaning against the parapet, Tetsu shook his head in disbelief as he stared out over River’s Bend. The town was overshadowed by the two enormous airships hovering in the sky above, suspended by their gigantic hot air balloons and bristling with weapons. Hanging from the gondolas were two strange brass pyramids while a third was being rolled into the town square from a newly arrived supply ship.

“My friends,” Sanejin addressed them, “the stakes have been raised.”

“What in the name of heaven are those?” Kano gasped.

“If I were to hazard a guess, some sort of device that can detect the flow of essence,” Tetsu assumed, “with three of them and a map of the area, they could triangulate the exact position of anything that seems suspicious. That way, they know exactly where to look for the trove.”

Sanejin blinked. “Wait, they’re just treasure hunters? All that talk of annexing River’s Bend and going rogue…”

“…is all a lie, yes,” Tetsu confirmed. “They’ll probably claim that it’s some form of defensive device to use against a possible invasion from Lookshy, which will give the airships an excuse to ‘go out on patrol’. Has anyone thought to use geomancy to find the trove, Sanejin?”

“Of course they have,” the god scoffed, “though nowhere near this scale. Who knows? They might actually find something.”

“Then they might have just forced our hand,” Tetsu sighed regretfully. “Sanejin, we may have to enter the game and find the trove first, if only to keep it out of the hands of the Realm. If it comes to that, can I still count on your support?”

“Tetsu, I’ve spent a thousand years trying to keep that secret buried. Besides, even if they find it, the Oracle wouldn’t just leave his treasure unguarded. There has to be another way.”

Tetsu scowled in frustration. “Why is it that I’m starting to get the feeling that everyone in this entire town knows more about this Treasure than they’re letting on? The Realm would NOT send this much manpower, invest this much into an operation, unless they were sure of a result. Sanejin, you say you’ve been guarding the Trove for a millennium, are you honestly telling me that you’ve never even looked for it?”

“I swear that I have not sought out the Oracle’s Trove,” Sanejin intoned.

Tetsu couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not. “All right, I’ll accept your word on that for now. You have to know at least what it is, though. The Scavenger Lands are full of First Age ruins, lost artefacts are rediscovered all the time. What exactly about this particular legend has everyone so up in arms?”

Sanejin sighed. “Pardon me, sometimes it’s easy to forget that others aren’t so intimately acquainted with history as I am.” Turning, he held out his hand towards the tallest mountain across the western valley in the distance. “Mount Makota. During the Primordial War, that mountain was one of the forward staging areas in the fight against the creators. Legend has it that one of their number fell in this very valley. It remained a military base throughout the First Age with an entire city built to support it, all under the auspices of the Oracle of the Unconquered Sun. Then, right before the Usurpation, the Oracle disbanded his armies and retreated to his personal meditation chambers. When the assassins arrived they found the city deserted, the forges destroyed and the arsenal simply gone. When the Oracle was found still sitting quietly in his meditation chambers, he refused to speak a word before they executed him.”

“So you’re not talking about a few First Age trinkets here,” Tetsu surmised, “the Oracle’s Trove is enough First Age weaponry to rival the forces of Lookshy.”

“Or exceed it,” Sanejin explained, “more than a thousand years of use without the benefit of Solar maintenance is starting to take its toll on Looskhy’s assets. I suspect that the Oracle shifted his arsenal into Elsewhere, a kind of storage area outside of Creation where time is suspended. If that’s the case then once it’s returned to Creation it would sill be in perfect working order.”

“So whoever possesses the Trove could theoretically conquer the Scavenger Lands?”

“Historical references claim that the Oracle’s armies could realistically conquer Malfeas, should the need arise. Of course, it would be of little use to anyone without an army to equip.”

“Greyfalls could secure the East, maybe even place a new Empress on the throne,” Tetsu concluded.

“Indeed,” Sanejin agreed, “perhaps for another thousand years. I understand that might seem like a long time for a mortal but to the gods it represents nothing more than a drop in the bucket. Once the Oracle returns, we’ll have a real chance of reforging the golden age of prosperity and securing Creation against its enemies once and for all!”

“So your interest is merely safeguarding the trove for the Oracle’s return? If you have so much faith in this Oracle’s prowess after more than a millennium, why fret over the efforts of these Dragonbloods now?”

Sanejin scratched the back of his neck as he shifted uncomfortably. “Well, while the Solars knew the art of permanence, they obviously weren’t able to apply it to all their designs, the ruins of the once great city of Makota are proof of that. I’ve no doubt that whatever device hides the Trove will keep it concealed but Makota was a large city with many secrets. The truth is, I have been suppressing most of the Scavenger Lords that attempt to search these ruins, just in case they stumble across something significant or, Maidens forbid, information that could point someone to the Trove!”

Tetsu crossed his arms over his chest. “Define ‘suppressed’ for me.”

“Some I invited here for a night of frivolity before being added to my harem,” the god sighed regretfully. “Others I would send on wild goose chases or, in extreme circumstances, down into the tunnels to their inevitable death. The forest is dangerous enough the further you get from the river but the tunnels below are lousy with wyld mutants and other dangers. There’s even a legend that a piece of the Yozi that was tamed here still stalks the dark halls.”

Not wanting to contemplate the beast that he and Kano had encountered a scant few nights ago, Tetsu refused to get side tracked. “No, you talk in generalizations and seek to muddy the waters but there is something specific that you don’t want found. If my experience with Solar past life memories is typical, the Oracle would have to consider that the heir to his exaltation may not even remember his legacy, let alone the way to find it. Also, don’t think I haven’t considered that you made this Temple your base of operations for a good reason. In fact, as far as I can tell, this is the only intact structure left that existed back then. For all I know, the Trove could be right below our feet this very instant.”

Sanejin bowed. “Never let it be said that you disappointed me, Tetsu, you do your exaltation justice. Yes, this temple is important but merely as a smaller piece of a much larger puzzle. I’m sorry, you are quite right; I have been holding something back. I know that you have been trying to gage my motivations since your arrival so I’m sure you’ll understand that I have also been searching for yours. To share my secrets with you, however, I need more than your word. I need an Eclipse Oath.”

“An Eclipse Oath,” Tetsu repeated, frowning.

“I swear that I will share with you fully everything I know about the Oracle’s Trove without censorship or omission if in return you swear not to seek out the Trove for your own personal gain, nor pass those secrets on or use them to benefit those who do seek the Trove for any other reason than to allow it to pass into the hands of its rightful owner, the barer of the exaltation of the Oracle of the Unconquered Sun.”

“So the real question is whether I trust in your sincerity,” Tetsu mused.

“From my perspective, this is the ultimate test of character for both of us,” Sanejin smirked. “After all, you may decide that a little bad luck is worth the potential gain and seek out the Trove for yourself or use it to broker a deal with the Dragonbloods.”

The god extended his hand and Tetsu stared at it for several moments as he considered his options. Finally, the Eclipse Caste accepted the handshake and nodded. “I so swear.”

There was a momentary flash of yellow light from his brow as the pact was sealed.

“Good,” Sanejin smiled, “now let us cast the dice.”

“Kano,” Tetsu murmured over his shoulders, “I’m sorry but you can’t be privy to this.”

“What?” Kano protested. “You don’t trust me?”

“More to the point, mortal,” Sanejin said in a low, deadly, tone, “I don’t trust you. Your friend is merely pre-empting my insistence.”

Gulping, Kano nodded and quickly scurried down the stairs.

“When I first arrived at the Temple, I searched it thoroughly for any clues as to the location of the Trove with the intent to keep the information so that I could place the Oracle on the path to his inheritance,” Sanejin explained, keeping his voice low. “I did discover a clue. The Oracle wasn’t alone during his meditation before the Usurpation, in fact he kept his two closest allies with him at all times. The first was the City Father of Makota, an old and powerful god at the time. The second was the Oracle’s Lunar Mate, Sheska, once the mistress of this very temple.”

Sanejin let go of Tetsu’s hand and returned to the battlements to watch the airships as they began to turn, one towards the Northwest, the other facing Southwest. “The writings she left behind mentioned that the Oracle had ordered her to flee rather than face what he considered certain death if she stayed by his side. She also mentioned that before they left his presence, he had given them each a gift. To Sheska, he gave the Hearthstone of this very Manse, an artefact that could give an Exalted certain magical abilities once attuned to her essence or able to power another device if they so wished. She didn’t mention the gift that he’d given to the City Father but I recalled a piece of trivia that he used that same Hearthstone to power his most famous artefact, the Gnomon.”

“The logical conclusion being that this Gnomon was the other gift,” Tetsu surmised.

“In light of the disappearance of the Trove and the Gnomon’s power, absolutely,” Sanejin insisted. “It was said that the Gnomon could direct its user to any goal, even into the depths of the Wyld or upon more esoteric paths such as ‘destiny’ or ‘enlightenment’. If anything could find the Oracle’s Trove no matter how well hidden, it would be the Gnomon. Since there is absolutely no record of the City Father of Makota using the Gnomon after the Usurpation, nor any claim by the Sidereals that it fell into their possession, I despaired because I was forced to conclude that only this particular Hearthstone could power the Gnomon and Sheska claimed to have taken it with her into the depths of the Wyld where she and the surviving Lunars were forced to exile themselves. The odds that the hearthstone was lost to the infinite were far too likely and I feared that my goal was impossible.”

“I’m guessing that there’s an ‘until’ waiting to be expressed after this pause.”

Sanejin grinned. “Until the temple was occupied by Raksha during the Balorian Crusade; a time I count as amongst the darkest of my long immortal life. I was taken hostage as a bargaining chip against the Shogunate whilst they interrogated me about the personal lives of the Dragonbloods arrayed against them. The Raksha do love their juicy gossip as well as a good story, so I managed to carve myself out a niche in their court as a kind of jester. At the same time, I managed to trick the leader into revealing to me why he’d taken the temple rather than levelling the place. It told me that, unbeknownst to me, the temple holds a piece of the Wyld deep down under the Well of Eternal Perfection, an oasis for their kind in the midst of what he called ‘the blasphemy of shape’.”

“How’d you get out of that one?”

“Luck. The Raksha that used the Well as a refuge started disappearing. One day the leader himself enters but doesn’t emerge. Days later, one of his honour guard drags himself out of the water clutching a set of moonsilver bracers, babbling that the Silver Death was about to emerge and destroy them all. I swear there wasn’t a Raksha within miles of the Temple minutes later, all that was left was myself, what remained of my poor, ravished, harem and that set of moonsilver bracers left behind in the panic.”

Pulling up his sleeves, the god revealed a set of elegant silver bracers on his forearms. Tetsu noted that not only was the workmanship exquisite but the material seemed perfectly flexible, distorting to maintain their close fit as Sanejin’s prominent muscles shifted under his skin. There also didn’t seem to be any hinge or lock, as if the metal could simply be donned like tight cloth. Most spectacular was the gem inset near the wrist of his left arm, a faintly luminescent opaque white oval stone of exquisite beauty.

“I found the hearthstone inset on the bracers,” Sanejin continued. “At first I thought the notion that it was THE hearthstone of this very manse to be preposterous but, hoping against hope, I attempted to attune the stone to myself anyway. Much to my own incredulity, it worked. At first I thought it to be a sign from the Incarnae but in my long years here, I have come up with a more plausible theory. Shaska would have known that her chances of survival were slim, but she wanted everyone to believe that she’d taken the hearthstone with her into the Wyld to prevent all but the most foolhardy of seekers. Instead, she throws the bracers along with the hearthstone into the well where few would think to seek it out.”

“That’s… quite impressive, actually,” Tetsu admitted. “So you have the hearthstone, all that remains is for someone to recover this ‘Gnomon’ and the location of the Trove is no longer completely safe.”

“I am the logical one to interrogate about the artefact; I live in the Manse of the hearthstone that can power it after all. If the Dragonbloods discover it, I’m sure I couldn’t hold out against them. Particularly since I suspect that they are just pawns for the Sidereals, this could be a play to end the civil cold war that’s crippling the Realm at the moment. They do so hate it when their toys break.”

Tetsu looked out over River’s Band and watched the soldiers march though the streets as crowds gawked at the spectacle above. The brass pyramid on the ground was swarming with men, like ants over a busy hive. Even worse he could see more ships sailing towards them from upriver. “I believe those may be reinforcements,” Tetsu pointed the vessels out to his companion. “I’m sorry, my friend, but I think sabotage is out of the question. I barely escaped from them last night; my skill at stealth isn’t a match for that mess. Even if I could infiltrate the pyramid, it would take me too long to stop them from mapping most of the valley, and I might only slow them down anyway. Like it or not, they have won this round, we can’t risk so much for so little potential… gain…”

As his words trailed off, Tetsu squinted at a patch of trees across the river which he thought had moved moments ago. He blinked at a feint flash of light from beyond the treeline before one of the tall pines slowly toppled out of sight. “Can you see that?” Tetsu asked, pointing at the dust cloud that wafted up from the impact site. “That’s the graveyard, if I remember right.”

Sanejin turned his head and squinted at the area. “Yes, I see, there’s a fight going on over there. By the Incarnae!” He gasped suddenly.

“What?” Tetsu asked urgently, unable to make anything out at all, no matter how hard he squinted.

“There’s something… big over there,” the god whispered in wonderment, “Tetsu, I haven’t seen anything like this since the Usurpation.”

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” Tetsu said, turning to stride briskly towards the steps, “my friend may need help.”

“Wait,” Sanejin said, grasping Tetsu’s shoulder. “I can get you there much faster.”

#

Several minutes earlier, Aten knelt at the gate of Shanku Toyo Graveyard and touched his fingertips to the line of white powder before bringing them to his lips. “Salt,” he informed his companions, “and lots of it. The villagers must be very serious about keeping the dead trapped here.”

His companions had foregone their assumed shapes once they were all safely on the other side of the river, revealing their true forms to be gorgeous warrior-maidens much to Aten’s surprise and delight. Valdis Eyebiter was a lithe, pale, petite beauty whose small frame belied the athletic strength of her body. Somehow, she still managed to be the more intimidating of the two, the sharp slashes of her barely visible silver tattoos combined with her aggressive stance, wild hair and piercing glare to give her an intimidating presence. Comparably, Karmaria was like a serene pool next to her. The tall woman had a muscular build borne of a childhood spent under the waves, her blue hair and gills betraying her heritage as one of the merfolk. Her silver tattoos reminded Aten of underwater currents, particularly set on the cool green background of her flesh.

When it came to armaments, both Lunars also had completely opposite styles. Kamaria was unarmed but wore a suit of light moonsilver armour that Aten knew would be surprisingly effective despite all the skin it was showing off. Moonsilver armour had a way of flowing to where it was needed most during a fight, while remaining light and supple in order not to inhibit the wearer’s movements. Valdis, on the other hand, wore only a simple loose black tunic belted firmly around round the waist. At her back, however, she carried a set of sickle-like sharpened throwing blades and had a moonsilver daiklave that was almost bigger than she was sheathed over her back.

Aten himself retained his loose traveller’s robe, though he’d left his peddler’s backpack at Menji’s. His Orihalcum short sword was kept out of sight in the concealed sheath under his robe but he otherwise remained unarmoured. “Anyone else have a bad feeing about this place?”

Valdis sniffed. “The air is thick with death, perhaps it would be wiser for one of us to scout ahead…”

Kamaria interrupted her by taking a long stride forward and thrusting open the gates with both hands. “I think it’s too late for the stealthy approach,” she commented over her shoulder as she took the lead.

“We’ll talk about this later,” Valdis warned, walking behind her lover as she scanned the courtyard with Aten bringing up the rear.

The graveyard earth was grey and lifeless, supporting nothing by dry, brown, weeds and hollow, twisted, stumps. Grave markers were scattered haphazardly everywhere around the main building which was in a state of severe disrepair. The slightest gust blew up small clouds of dust as the muted light of the sun beat down on them oppressively from above.

“We’re right on the edge of the Shadowland,” Aten observed. “Coming here during the day was a good call.”

As they approached the temple at the centre of the yard, the front doors slowly slid open as if to welcome them inside. Once the warriors were sure no undead were about to pour from the darkness, they continued up the creaky wooden steps until they stood at the threshold.

Inside was an incongruous sight to the rest of the compound. The room beyond seemed to be in good repair with walls patched and seamlessly painted over, new straw matts on the floor and even a well-kept shrine inset into the wall opposite the main door. In front of the shrine, a beautiful blonde woman in a simple white cotton robe sat on a red and gold silk cushion, smiling up at them.

“Greetings,” she said calmly, “my name is Ullah, Zenith Caste Solar. I was wondering how long it would take before you decided to investigate this place.”

Aten was about to take a step forward when Valdis thust her arm out to bar his way. “You’ll have to pardon my companions,” he apologized, “but I’m sure you’ll understand our need to certify your claim.”

“Of course,” she agreed easily. After a moment, her caste mark flared to life, the golden disc of the Zenith caste glowing warmly on her brow.

“Satisfied, girls?” Aten asken impatiently.

“Aten,” Kamaria stated flatly, not taking her eye off of Ullah for a moment, “both of us are several hundred years your senior. So would you kindly shut up and let us handle this?”

“Would you ladies care to share your aged wisdom with me, then?” Aten inquired with strained patience.

Wordlessly, Valdis held a small silver hand mirror out to him that suddenly appeared in her hand.

“Thanks but my hair’s always perfect.” He quipped.

She clicked her teeth together in a very birdlike gesture of disapproval. “Look at her reflection in the mirror.”

Shrugging, Aten indulged her by taking the mirror and angling it so that the room came into view. What he saw almost made him drop the artefact. “HOLY SUN ON A CRUTCH!” he swore, managing to grab the frame before it hit the floor.

In the mirror the room wasn’t just simply decayed. The mats were old and stained with an unnatural oily black liquid. Where the paint on the walls was cracked and peeling, dark vapour poured into the room, pooling in shadowy corners that seemed to resist penetration by natural light. The shrine wasn’t a wholesome place of reverence for the gods of reincarnation; it was a mockery composed of human bone, blood and rotting flesh.

In the middle of the blasphemy knelt the woman who called herself Ullah. She was still beautiful but her skin was pale as alabaster, paler even than the transparent white burial shroud she draped herself in. In contrast to the original golden blonde of her hair, the vision in the mirror showed long, inky black, locks that seemed to slither across the ground, moving of their own accord. Red eyes burned deep within bruise-coloured eyesockets as purple lips peeled back over a maw of needle-like fangs. Most disturbing was the empty black disc of her caste mark which bled like unholy stigmata, the trickle of crimson fluid running down the side of her nose, around the corner of her lips to drip from her chin onto her ample breast.

When Aten looked up, he was horrified to see that the vision in the mirror had been made real. Ullah’s grin became a full-throated laugh as she wiped the drops of blood from her chest and teasingly tested the taste of it with the tip of her tongue. “Mmmm, salty,” she commented in a salaciously husky voice, leaning back to spread her legs provocatively, “perhaps you beasts would care to trifle with me a while? It does get so lonely out here during the day, all by myself.”

For a moment, Aten felt the oppressive urge to cross that short distance and slake his sudden lust in her body. Horror and disgust drove the unnatural impulse from his mind, however, as he shook off her spell, noting that the Lunars did the same as their beautiful faces contorted into snarls of rage. “Irresistable Succubus Style,” Aten sneered, naming the unholy charm the death-witch had attempted to ensnare them with, “you’ll have to do better than that, corpse queen!”

“My, my, such a mouth,” Ullah laughed, “you girls aught to muzzle your pet before he bites off more than he can chew… come to think of it, that is kind of ironic, isn’t it?”

Kamaria scowled. “You may want to censure yourself. Do I have to point out that you are outnumbered and in broad daylight? We know your kind and your tricks; do not think us so easily diverted from our cause. What is your business here in River’s Bend?”

She threw her head back and cackled as the wind suddenly whipped around them, like a giant suddenly expelling a deep breath. Dark, unintelligible, whispers seemed to leak from the walls as she floated upright, rising without elegantly without the aid of her claw-tipped fingers. Aten covered his mouth as the wind brought with it the stench of death and the screams of tortured souls. Blood started to drip from the walls as the very earth shuddered in anger around them.

The death witch’s laugh was suddenly cut short by a low growl as she glared at them, her seething hate a palpable force as some unknowable presence flickered within her caste mark, watching them. “You dare to make demands of me?” She asked, her voice unnaturally resonant. “I am The Bride Who Sleeps In Ashes, your desires are meaningless to me!”

Glaring back with equal intensity, Kamaria levelled her finger at the Deathknight as her caste mark, an empty silver circle, sprang to life on her brow. “I am Kamaria Clearwater, Chosen of Luna, one of the sacred protectors of her beloved Creation. You are the invader here, answer me or crawl back to the abyss that spawned you.”

“I spit on your insane goddess!” Ullah blasphemed. “The blood of traitors will salt this land before we drag you screaming into the peaceful embrace of Oblivion!”

“Aten,” Valdis called the Solar’s attention as the witch faced off against the mer-woman, one glowing bright silver while shadows wafted from the other like smoke. “Step back,” the raven-lunar ordered, dropping into a combat crouch as one hand resten on the hilt of her daiklave while the other reached for her knives, “you’re in our way.”

Grudgingly stepping back into the light, Aten drew his short sword and prepared himself. Unfortunately, none of them noticed the witch’s hair creeping across the floor until it was far too late. Aten screamed as the strands coiled about his ankles and whipped him off his feet, pulling him inside and attempting to bash his face against the wall before hurling him into the ceiling. He was able to react to the first blow, shielding himself with his arms which unfortunately tore his sword from his grasp as it was embedded in the wall but the second impact as his back hit the heavy wooden beams wracked him with pain.

Valdis leapt over the head of her lover, drew her daiklave and slashed, cutting straight through the strands of hair holding Aten aloft before landing ready behind the witch. The Solar fell but retained the presence of mind to roll with the fall and remove himself as an obstacle in the fight before Kamaria charged, her hands growing into gigantic reptilian claws as she attacked.

Ullah laughed as her form blurred upwards, her assailant’s claws passing through her body as if she didn’t exist. Landing on all fours on the ceiling, she hissed down at them from above as she rested there against the law of gravity. Her hair re-grew in an instant, lashing out like a thousand-tailed scourge to batter Valdis aside, knocking the Lunar off her feet.

Screaming in rage, Kamaria grew, her flesh and bones creaking and crackling as bone and muscle expanded. Sharp scales broke through her skin as her face contorted into a bestial muzzle and saurian fangs burst from her gums. A tail grew out from the base of her spine as her feet lengthened into digitigrade hindquarters. Reaching up, the Deathknight tried to skitter away on her back across the ceiling but the Lunar managed to pin her down and get a good grip, tearing her away and flinging her through the crumbling western wall.

Rolling through the dirt amidst an explosion of debris, Ullah came to a halt twenty feet from the gaping hole in the side of the building, still cackling manically as she pushed herself to her feet. A guttural roar from the darkness inside shook the building to its foundations before Kamaria leapt into the light. Her beast-form was terrifying, at least fifteen feet long from nose to the tip of her tail, armoured with thick green scales baring the same swirling silver tattoos of her human form, she appeared to be nothing less than a fierce River Dragon, a naturally occurring giant predator from the darkest corners of the East. She even still wore her moonsilver armour, the bright metal plates reshaping themselves to fit her radically different shape.

The Deathknight still laughed as the dragon stalked towards her, as high at the shoulder as she was tall. The wind clawed at Ullah’s shroud and whipped up the dust around her as she rose back to her full height, bleeding from scores of tiny cuts all over her body. She continued to laugh, as if her wounds were not only meaningless but welcome. “How exquisite,” Ullah taunted, licking her lips, “it considers itself the apex predator here, doesn’t it Ullah? DIE!”

Suddenly raging, the Deathknight reached out as black lightning arced from her fingertips. Scales blackened as the vile energy ravished Kamaria’s flesh, the great dragon roaring in pain as she recoiled from the onslaught.

Her small victory didn’t last long. Valdis’ crescent throwing knives glittered in the light as they cut through the air like a deadly wind, their owner charging in right behind. Breaking off her assault, Ullah dodged the first two blades with a backflip before slipping between the next two blades with a horizontal cartwheel. She couldn’t completely escape from the last as it grazed the left side of her hip before Validis was upon her. The Lunar cried out in frustration when Ullah casually slapped her sword stroke aside with her bare hands.

Quickly recovering, Kamaria’s great footsteps shook the earth as she turned to pounce on her enemy, long claws outstretched and ready to tear the Deathknight apart. Working with her lover in perfect synchronicity, Valdis span, dropping to one knee as she slashed horizontally at Ullah from the opposite direction, hoping to catch her off guard. Laughing hysterically, Ullah arched her back over Valdis’ blow, standing on her hands as she pulled her legs up over her body to avoid the stroke entirely before uncoiling like a spring into a two heel kick that hit Kamaria squarely under her saurian jaw. The blow had enough force to topple the Lunar even in beast form end over end over the outer wall, spinning out of control until she smashed into one of the trees beyond, shattering the trunk. Both Valdis and Ullah were forced to dodge the falling log in opposite directions, granting both a temporary reprieve from the fight. The treetrunk was massive enough that the stone wall crumbled as it came crashing down, flinging debris in all directions.

Ullah was still chortling when a bolt of golden light punched a hole through he chest, silencing her. Blinking, she paused to look down at the smoking wound, her ribs clearly visible in the blackened mass of her internal organs. Seemingly puzzled, she prodded the burnt flesh with her fingertips as her eyes traced the path of the bolt to its source. Aten stood defiantly in the courtyard, sunlight gleaming from his golden short sword as he levelled the tip in her direction, the half-sun mark of the Twilight caste blazing on his forehead.

After a moment of stunned disbelief, Ullah threw her head back and laughed. “OH! I’d forgotten about you, little Twilight. Why don’t you go play somewhere else? The adults are still busy.”

Moving with such speed that she was a mere blur, Valdis interposed herself between them, her daiklave held in a defensive stance. She did, however, position herself so that Aten still had a clear line of sight so he could fire off another Blazing Solar Bolt. The fallen tree shook as Kamaria clambered through the gap in the wall that it had created hissing at the Deathknight menacingly.

“We have the advantage here, Child of Silence,” Aten replied, addressing the Midnight caste with a formal title, “you have proven your skill but you cannot match all three of us under the light of day. Explain your presence here in River’s Bend and we may allow you to retreat to the Underworld to lick your wounds.”

Ullah’s chuckle grated on Aten’s nerves. “You may think yourself clever, Aten Drassilson,” the Deathknight hissed, “but the Neverborn know. They whisper to me of Ogren Gunnar’s schemes and poor, sweet, little Messia. Of course, you don’t know how much she misses her mother, do you? You’re never there to comfort her when she cries under the covers late at night… but do not fear, little Twilight, when you are dead, I will be the mother she never had…”

“Lies,” Aten growled, glaring down the length of his blade as his caste mark burned, “you will never lay a hand on her, witch. Nor will you live to see the Iron Tiger in all its resplendent glory! She’s too dangerous to allow her to live, we kill her.”

Valdis grinned wickedly, crouching low into a more aggressive stance. “You’re more useful than you look, Aten. Both of you back off, I have this one.”

“Was that a challenge, sapling?” Ullah sneered. “Exactly what part of this encounter so far leads you to believe that you are a match for me alone?”

“If you’re that confident then this shouldn’t be a problem for you,” Valdis retorted, retaining her mocking grin.

“Well, if you are so keen to die,” Ullah accepted the challenge with a vicious grin of her own. Widening her stance, what remained of her shroud fell from her right shoulder off the bloody ruin of her breast as small arcs of black lighting flickered between her fingertips even as the malevolent nimbus spread across her whole body, her eyes igniting with the same dark radiance. Spreading her arms as the black smoke wafting from her skin swirled into a black vortex filled with what appeared to be naked, writhing bodies in the darkness. Deep in the eye of that vortex, something moved, as if a vast, hate-filled, intelligence was watching from beyond. Ullah rose into the air, bolts of black power scorching the ground and shattering grave markers around her as she hovered a yard over the unclean earth.

Taking a deep breath, a full circle of silver light faded into existence on Valdis’ forehead as she focused on channelling her essence. Her whole body began to glow with a soft silver light as she stood steady against the Deathknight’s unnatural aura. “Bring it, bitch!”

Sweeping her hands together, Ullah unleashed a barrage of crackling black bolts from her eyes and fingertips, each composed of a multitude of amorphous screaming black faces shuddering in torment. Valdis stood calmly as she watched her annihilation baring down on her, only acting in the last possible instant. The Lunar’s silver aura suddenly flared, a giant silver raven emerging from her back and spreading its wings in defiance of the enemy. Howling in fury, her daiklave exploded into a brilliant burst of silver light as she struck the abyssal energy with the mirror-like flat of her blade, turning it back on its master.

Ullah barely had time to gape before her own attack knocked her from the air, her impact shattering a thick gravestone before rolling to a halt face down in the dry dirt. The wind suddenly died down to a gentle breeze and the sunlight seemed a little brighter, as if a cloud had finally passed overhead.

“Is she dead?” Aten asked, trying not to gape at the magnificence if Valdis’ anima banner.

“I’m about to make sure,” Valdis replied, keeping her guard up as she walked over to the Deathknight’s prone form. As she approached, Ullah started to move sluggishly, wheezing out a wet, ragged, chuckle. Growling, in frustration, Valdis changed the grip on her daiklave, raising it up with the point turned downward as she prepared to deal the final blow. “Prepare yourself for the peace of oblivion.”

When Ullah flopped over, her skin had returned to a healthy blush and the caste mark glowing with holy golden light. Straw coloured strands of hair flowed about her bruised and battered body, her wholesome robes bloodied and ripped. “This isn’t the endgame yet,” she whispered before raising her voice to plead with someone Valdis couldn’t see. “Tetsu! Help me, please help me!”

Aten and Kamaria turned their heads, following Ullah’s gaze to where Tetsu was standing at the gap in the wall atop the fallen trunk. The Eclipse caste was dripping wet, soaked right though like he’d just taken a dip in the river fully clothed. “Stop!” Tetsu commanded, his words holding an air of supreme and undeniable authority. “I cannot allow you to kill that woman!”

“YOU!” Aten shouted, pointing at Tetsu in accusation. “You’re the misbegotten bastard that killed my friend! I should have known you’d be in league with this witch, come down here so we can settle this once and for all!”

“Oh, you’re the thief from last night,” Tetsu observed, folding his arms across his broad chest. “If you hadn’t attacked me unprovoked, the situation might have worked out for the both of us you know. Thanks for the maps, by the way, they were very helpful.”

“Aten?” Valdis asked, not taking her eyes off of Ullah.

“This changes nothing,” the twilight answered, “kill her so we can focus on this one.”

“NO!” Tetsu shouted. “She saved my life! Pardon my ignorance of how to address you, great lady, I have no idea who or what you might be but I’m honour bound to aid the woman you’re menacing… or avenge her death should it come to that and I won’t even let your pet dragon stop me.”

“This dragon is no pet,” Kamaria growled, her deep draconic voice reverberating through Tetsu’s bones.

Tetsu fought to keep his cool, thankful that his robe was long enough to conceal that his knees were shaking. “I beg your pardon again; I meant no offence by my foolish assumption. If you would please spare her, I would take it as a great personal favour.”

“Why are you hesitating?” Aten demanded incredulously. “He killed Cathak Markul!”

“I swear I did not kill Cathak Markul!” Tetsu shouted over Aten. “Your companion is making a mistake. I don’t know what evidence he could possibly have that links me to the dragonblood’s death but I merely buried him, I had no part in his slaying.”

“Liar!” Aten accused. “The stench of your unholy sorcery still lingers upon you!”

“Kamaria?” Valdis asked, asking for her partner’s council with only that one word.

“There’s something not right about this one,” the dragon muttered, glaring at Tetsu, “but he seems to be speaking the truth as he sees it. Tell me, scarred one, do you know that this woman you wish to save is a twisted mockery of our kind, a scion of the evil powers of the Underworld who seeks nothing less than the dissolution of all Creation?”

“That’s a lie!” Ullah cried out, a convincing note of terror in her voice.

“If you don’t believe us, look inside,” Kamaria shrugged, “the proof is there for all to see, writ in bone and blood. If she did indeed save your life then it was only a trick to extract payment from you later, or perhaps lure you into the vile service of her masters.”

“Her guilt is of no matter,” Tetsu answered. “She saved my life; I owe her a debt of gratitude. I will repay it one way or the other.”

“I can’t believe you’re entertaining this idiot,” Aten growled, shaking with rage. “Fine! I’ll settle this myself!”

Bursting into motion, Aten charged up the tree trunk, his sword raised high over his head with murder in his eyes. Tetsu unfolded his arms and stood in the face of the Twilight’s battle cry, ready to receive the first blow. As the blade came down, he blocked it by catching Aten’s wrist with his left forearm before grabbing it with is hand, stopping him in his tracks. A sharp twist turned Aten’s arm around more than a hundred and eighty degrees, snapping bones in several places and dislocating his shoulder. Tetsu drove the point home by inserting two fingers into his opponent’s stomach, penetrating garments and flesh effortlessly.

Aten’s screams of pain distracted Valdis enough that she forgot herself for a single moment and glanced in his direction. When she looked back, Ullah was melting into a bloody mass that slowly sank into the earth. “I’ll see you soon,” the Deathknight taunted before she disappeared, leaving nothing but a strangely well defined crack in the earth behind her.

Valdis’ strike came far too late but she felt the tip of her blade hit something hard just beneath the soil. She cried out in frustration, cutting a long sweep of her blade through the air to blow away the dirt, revealing a gigantic stone slab inlaid with golden runes written in ancient First Age script. The slab was cracked in half, the fracture following the same line that Ullah had left in her escape. “Damn it! She’s gone!”

Tetsu gently lowered Aten to the ground as the Twilight growled in pain, clutching his wound with his working left hand as the other flopped almost bonelessly out of his control. “I’m sorry,” Tetsu apologized, opening his robe to show off the scar on his chest, “she brought me here to heal me, if it hadn’t been for her I would have died. My assailant was a man in red that moved with unnatural speed, I trust you’re not friends of his?”

Stomping her foot in frustration, Valdis turned and levelled her daiklave at him. “You have no idea what you have done! I had one of the deadliest threats to Creation on the tip of my blade! If it wasn’t my own carelessness that allowed her to escape, I’d end you right now!”

“Calm yourself, Valdis,” Kamaria sighed, “you can’t blame this male for following his conscience, even if it is sorely misguided. After all, either of us might have done the same. Of course, I’m sure that such an honourable man understands that his debt now belongs to us.”

Tetsu winced. “Don’t worry, I take your point. I’m sorry that your friend forced me to wound him so severely.”

“I recognize the nature of those injuries,” Valdis muttered as she approached, kneeling to examine Aten but keeping hold of her daiklave. “You know the Dark Messiah Style just as Aten here said, are you indeed yet another Deathknight?”

“That depends on what a Deathknight is,” Tetsu answered with a shrug, consciously igniting his caste mark. “They tell me I’m an ‘Eclipse’ of the Solar Exalted. Around here, most people call me Tetsu the Wanderer.”

Valdis retrieved the small silver mirror from Aten and checked Tetsu’s reflection, finally sheathing her daiklave after seeing that he was at least what he appeared to be. “He tells the truth but Aten requires aid…”

“I’ll be all right,” Aten gasped, “he missed… major organs… on purpose. I’ll need clean water and… time to heal myself.”

“I’m sorry,” Tetsu apologized to him again, “you didn’t leave me much of a choice.”

“Shut up! Eclipse or not, you still reek of dark magic. Once I heal, I’ll have questions for you and your answers better be good.”

“We can’t drag him back to town,” Valdis observed. “I saw a cave near here earlier, we can take him there.”

Shrinking back into human form while Tetsu watched, his eyes bulging out of his head, Kamaria nodded and slung Aten over her shoulders as gently as possible. “We part ways for now,” she told Tetsu in a level tone, “but there is much we must discuss. Do you know the ruined mansion south of High Town?”

“Better than I’d like,” Tetsu replie with a frown.

“Meet us there at dawn, tomorrow morning. I give you my word that no harm shall befall you as long as you answer us honestly and mean us no harm in return.”

Tetsu held out his hand to her. “I’m willing to give you my word that I will honour the rules of parley and meet with you at dawn tomorrow if you will do the same under a sanctified oath.”

Kamaria smiled. “I like the way you think, Tetsu the Wanderer,” she said, taking his hand. They glowed with a feint golden light as the pact was sealed before she spoke again. “I am Kamaria Clearwater, Lunar Exalted of the No Moon caste. I look forward to our talk, may Luna guide your steps until then.”

Watching them walk away, a thought suddenly struck Tetsu. “Wait, do you know about the airships?”

Pausing, Kamaria turned back to look at him. “What airships?”

#

Considering the difficulties of the morning as a whole so far, Tetsu wasn’t sure which was the most annoying. Sanejin somehow teleporting him into the air over the river and forcing him to swim to dry land was irritating. Having to swim back across because he couldn’t chance the blockade across the bridge just poured salt in the wound. Looking inside the Graveyard’s main building and discovering the atrocity inside had shocked him to the core, moreso because he still couldn’t bring himself to believe that Ullah was responsible for them. Being forced to steal some clothes that had been hung out in someone’s back yard because he couldn’t wait for his own to dry so that he could sneak through the backstreets without leaving a trail of water behind him was simply infuriating.

The violence he’d done to Aten surprised him, all the more because he knew the man was at least as skilled as White Crane had been. At the very least, he considered what Ullah had taught him to be brutally effective and if she was as evil as the Lunars had suggested, the implications for saving him were unpleasant in the least. After everything that had happened, there was only one place he even considered he could go to stop and think, no matter how foolish and dangerous it was.

After an hour of skulking about, dodging patrols, Tetsu slowly slid the back door of Menji’s house open so that he could slip inside, closing it behind him with equal care. The building was dark and quiet; he couldn’t even hear Menji shuffling around in the front room. Stepping over the sleeping pallets on the floor, he opened the door opposite and peeked through, making sure there wasn’t anyone drinking at the table before calling out in a harsh whisper. “Menji? Old man, it’s me, Tetsu…”

There wasn’t anyone at the table and Menji was nowhere to be seen. Slipping though the door, Tetsu walked across the room to peek into the kitchen. “Old man, we need to talk…”

Of all the things he expected to see, Menji lying on the kitchen floor in a pool of his own blood, wheezing weakly as bloody froth leaked from the side of his mouth was last in Tetsu’s mind. In less than a moment, Tetsu found himself kneeling at Menji’s side, raising the old man’s head onto his knee without any memory of crossing the intervening distance. “Gods!” Tetsu hissed, seeing the patch of blood on Menji’s robe around a neat stab wound that would have struck close to his heart. “Old man, talk to me! Who did this?”

Menji’s hands were shaking but he managed to grasp Tetsu’s borrowed robe with surprising strength. “Secret,” the old man gurgled, talking with great effort, “secret compartment… under table…”

“What? Menji, you’re not making sense.”

The old man smirked before coughing up a gout of blood. “Dying…”

“Nonsense,” Tetsu growled, “you’re too nasty to die, you stubborn old bastard. The gods will kick you out before you reincarnate.”

That actually made him laugh, though each shudder seemed to make him weaker. “Sorry… not… mortal…”

As Tetsu watched, he started to fade away. Desperate, he grabbed Menji’s face, turning it so that their gazes locked. “Menji! Who did this?”

“Red…” Menji sighed with his last breath.

Holding the corpse of his friend in his arms, Tetsu tried to wipe his tears away but they kept rolling down his cheeks. “Please, not you too, old man, not you. I don’t know who else to trust.”

It was a long time before Tetsu could force himself to let go of the corpse. Ignoring the bloodstains on his clothes, he picked up a bottle of Sake from the shelf in the kitchen, half-crawled over to the low table, sat in his usual place in the corner and poured himself a cup. After several shots, he took a deep breath and sighed.

“Your Sake’s even sweeter than usual today, old man,” he informed the body in the kitchen, “I’m sorry to impose on you like this but I really need to talk. Don’t worry, I’ll check on your secret compartment in a bit, as soon as I finish this bottle.”

Savouring his second gulp, Tetsu considered what he wanted to say as he poured his third. “I’ll be honest with you, my friend; I don’t know what to think about anything anymore. Women who wield giant swords with glowing silver birds, shapeshifting dragons, mystical illusions, gods who turn men into whores, dragonblooded generals with airships… it’s all way out of my league. Then as soon as I think I know something, someone yanks the rug out from under my feet.”

Looking over at the body, Tetsu ignored another tear as it fell down his face and continued to drink. “Like it or not, though, I can’t just wash my hands of it and leave, especially not now. So the key is not to let the set dressing fool me. At the core, this whole thing is about power, like everything is. The only difference between here and the streets of Nexus is a matter of scale. You were killed because you knew something about the Oracle’s Trove. If you weren’t mortal, what did that make you? A god? An Elemental? I wonder if you ever told Kano… are you even his real father? No, that’s a distraction, the important thing is why you were killed, now of all times.”

“Red, you said. Could be anyone or anything, maybe you didn’t even hear me right or maybe you were talking about something else. Whoever almost killed me wore red, though… if I ever find that man I’ll have to ask him. Anyway, I’ve been twisting this whole mess around in my head trying to figure it out but nothing seems to be taking shape. I know you didn’t like Sanejin and I have to admit, I find it hard to believe that two enlightened mortals had him over a barrel. But he seems so sincere, which means he’s either telling the truth and is just that ruthless or he’s a good enough liar that I can’t catch him… either way terrifies me.”

“So far, we have Sanejin who claims to be on the side of this Oracle, the Dragonbloods supported by Greyfalls, the Man in Red who I feel had his own motives and myself who likes to think he represents the people stuck in the middle. And now these Lunars… I guess I’ll find out what they want tomorrow morning. Oh and Ullah, someone else I need to have a word with. If these Lunars were right and she works for the Underworld, then most likely they’re making their own play for the Trove. Oh, I almost forgot, this ‘Aten’ that was working with the Lunars knew Cathak Markul. What am I up to, seven possible sides to this conflict?”

“Here’s a Jade Talent question: Why did the man in red try to kill me? Red Wolf was being run by the Guild but with him out of the picture it looks like they’ve thrown in with Greyfalls. The Trove could have sold for… who knows how much, particularly if they’d spaced out sales and marked them as rare finds. Inferior to that but much safer is doing what they’re good at: supplying the army that finds the Trove and begging trade concessions from the victor. Besides, none of the remaining players strike me as their type of henchmen. Was the Man in Red one of these ‘Sidereals’ that Sanejin keeps mentioning? If they’re running the show, they’d either need to control the Trove or keep it hidden; maybe that’s my unseen angle in all of this. Maybe he’s here to oppose Ullah.”

“Aten, though, I think he’s my key to figuring out what’s really going on. When Ullah was taunting him, he said something to her about an ‘Iron Tiger’. What would a metal cat have to do with anything? Is it a statue, maybe a key to the Trove? Or is it part of the Trove, some artefact or weapon maybe? If so, what makes it so valuable? Or do those questions really matter? I don’t need to know what it is and why to stop them from finding it… unless it’s not a weapon at all. That’s a possibility, it could be almost anything. So yes, I need to know what an ‘Iron Tiger’ is so I can decide what oaths I should keep. More than anything else, I need to find out what Aten’s motives are and the friends he keeps.”

“Gods, this Sake is good, old man,” Tetsu complimented the body in the kitchen, “it really clears my head. I’m going to miss it.”

Placing the empty Sake bottle on the floor, Tetsu gently turned over the table to get it out of the way before lifting up the straw mats on the floor. It took him a few minutes to find the loose floorboard and pry it out of position, finding a small enclosed space that contained a large leather bundle and a watertight scroll case with the name ‘Kano’ written on the lid. Putting the scroll case aside, Tetsu unwrapped the bundle to find a familiar green jadesteel daiklave, sundered in half midway up the blade.

“Now, how in all of Malfeas did you get your hands on this, old man?” Tetsu breathed in disbelief. “And what’s more, why?”

Fortune smiled on him when he found a peddler’s backpack in the back room. Inside were several robes, so he borrowed one to replace his bloody stolen clothes along with a nice set of boots that fit him perfectly and even massaged his feet as he walked. He had to compensate for the small size of the robe by leaving the chest open and tying up the sleeves to conceal how short they were. Shoving the dirty clothes in the backpack along with the scroll case and tying the leather bundle with the broken daiklave to the side, he shouldered the burden as part of his new disguise and exited through the back door after saying a short apology to Menji’s spirit for being unable to bury him properly.

The journey up the hill was arduous with the burden on his back but uneventful, the soldiers posted at every corner paying him no mind as they did with the rest of the servants going about their daily business. The airships were long gone and life for the regular people had returned to a semblance of normalcy. Workers in Low Town were now either employed building the fortifications around the city and repairing roads or serving the occupiers in a menial capacity. High Town too was buzzing with activity, many of the colourful banners that had adorned the walls of the mansions now gone.

Finally arriving at the Temple, Tetsu was shocked to find Sanejin waiting for him at the gates, seemingly calm with his arms folded inside his sleeves. “Well met, almighty one,” Tetsu greeted as if he were the peddler he seemed to be, “might your customers be interested in my wares? I’ll happily pay you a percentage…”

“No need for the act,” Sanejin interrupted, “we’ve had hardly any customers all day and they’re too busy to care. What happened?”

“Downstairs,” Tetsu suggested.

Nodding, the god lead Tetsu to the nearest stairwell and the two of them descended into the lower levels. At the base of the stairs, Tetsu dropped the backpack to the floor, grabbed the neck of Sanejin’s robe and shoved him against the wall.

“Did you kill Menji?” Tetsu demanded, looking the god right in the eye.

Sanejin glanced off to one side before answering. “Who is Menji?”

Tetsu slammed him against the wall again, to little visible effect. “So I can catch you in a lie! Menji, the old man that runs a small boarding house near the town square, claimed not to be mortal before dying from a stab wound to the chest…”

“All right, all right,” Sanejin sighed, holding up his hands. “I’m sorry, I promised to keep his nature a secret. No, I didn’t kill Menji. We didn’t much like each other but I had no reason to have him killed.”

“You had EVERY reason to have him killed,” Tetsu insisted, “he knew something about the Oracle’s Trove. Something I’d bet he wasn’t willing to share with you!”

“Which is precisely why I didn’t want him dead! How was the new Oracle going to claim his birthright if the old bastard knew something about the Trove that couldn’t be discovered by some other means? Menji was the City Father of River’s Bend, the son of the City Father of Makota! I didn’t tell you before because I was sworn not to tell anyone!”

“All right,” Tetsu sighed, letting go, “if you both wanted the same thing, why didn’t the two of you get along?”

Sanejin smoothed out his robe before speaking. “Territory,” he explained, “when I moved in, he was the only god in town and received the majority share of the worship. Once I started to build this place into something more than a mining town in the middle of nowhere, people started to turn to me for spiritual guidance and enlightenment. Now I live in this Temple and he ‘lived’ in Low Town, taking what crumbs of worship he could from the disaffected and desperate. We haven’t talked for a few hundred years.”

“But you trusted him to keep the secret of the Compass?”

“With his life, if necessary. From the sound of things that was an accurate assessment.”

Tetsu grunted. “Any more slips of memory or omissions you’d like to get off your chest before we continue?”

Sanejin sighed. “There’s a small matter of Menji’s wife. It was before Red Wolf and White Crane’s time, she came to me while she was pregnant, begging for sanctuary. I took her in no questions asked and she drank the Water of Eternal Perfection after she gave birth. We became close after that and eventually she also gave birth to my son, Mamo. Once he was weaned, I sent Kano back to live with his father.”

“What happened to Menji’s wife?”

“She died in childbirth,” Sanejin said, shrugging. “Now, perhaps you would care to elaborate on the morning’s events?”

Tetsu left out much of the detail of what happened at the graveyard, other than his friend who might have been some sort of death-worshipper had been fighting with a group baring silver tattoos, though he described the slab Ullah had retreated through in detail. In describing Menji’s death, he left out the secret compartment and what it had contained.

“Disturbing,” Sanejin mused, his face serious. “The women you describe with silver tattoos sound like Lunar Exalted, the Chosen of Luna, and members of the Silver Pact to boot. I’ve had occasion to deal with their kind once or twice since the Usurpation, they seem to think this Temple belongs to them because it’s a lunar manse. The other is more serious, I’ve heard rumours of them from my contacts in Yu Shan. They call themselves Abyssal Exalted and they serve Deathlords like the Mask of Whispers in Thorns. If she is, that would mean the Deathlords themselves have taken an interest in the Trove, which only makes our job that much more difficult. At least they slowed her down.”

“She was the one that saved my life after I fell from the cliff,” Tetsu sighed, “I really don’t want to consider that she really wants to destroy Creation.”

“True evil always wears a beautiful mask, Tetsu,” Sanejin comforted him with a pat on the shoulder, “when you’ve lived as long as I have, you’ll fail to be surprised at any betrayal great or small. You look weary; I suggest you get some sleep now so we may attack this new problem with renewed vigour in the morning.”

“Yes,” Tetsu agreed, nodding absently, “that would be for the best… but I need to tell Kano that his father’s dead first.”

Kano was doing his job chatting with some of the whores that were usually too busy with clients to talk to him. Pulling him into an empty side-room after making his excuses, Tetsu sat him in a chair before giving him the news. The boy was completely silent after the first sentence, seeming to listen but never responding. He continued to stare at Tetsu when the Solar placed the scroll case on the table in front of him. Tetsu told him that his father was sorry, lied when he told him that his last thought was that Kano should have the contents of the scroll. Then he left, adding that if the scroll contained anything important, that he needed to see it before closing the door and finally leaving Kano to his grief.

Tetsu’s room was a welcome sight, though not as welcome as the sight of Feather when she emerged from the study nook. Her robe was open at the neck, hugging her slender shoulders and leaving her pale skin bare above the breast, inviting his eyes toward her cleavage. Below that, a soft belt was clinched around her waist with the hem high enough to leave most of her supple legs bare. Her grace of movement was what moved him, however, along with the curious mixture of beauty and practicality that she offered. Subconsciously he mused that she exemplified the difference between a dancer and a martial artist, the ethereal beauty of art versus the earthly beauty of purpose.

He was broken out of his trace by her embrace as she skipped across the room and hurled herself into his arms in an instant. Tetsu’s surprise was only exceeded when she suddenly pulled away and slapped him across the face. “Where have you been?” Feather demanded. “I’ve been worried sick about you all day!”

“I… there was an emergency,” he answered, too shocked to make anything up.

“And you didn’t even stop to think to tell me before you went gallivanting off?” She scolded, her glare cutting him like a knife. “Or even change your clothes? Where the heck did you get these robes anyway? They don’t even fit you! I…”

Taking her shoulders, he silenced her with a kiss on the lips. When he pulled away, she simply stared at him dreamily. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, trying to pour all his sincerity into his eyes as he gazed into her deep blue orbs, “I had to leave quickly and there was no time to tell you about it. Please, Feather, I’m tired and hungry. Someone who I thought was a friend might have betrayed me, another is now dead, murdered, and I just had to deliver his last words to his son. I’ll tell you everything but right now, all I want to do is hold you tight and kiss you.”

He set to doing just that and she responded with enthusiasm, practically melting into his arms. His hands wandered up her thighs under the hem of her robe as he grasped her smooth, perfectly rounded, butt, making her moan into his mouth. Realizing that she wasn’t wearing undergarments, he quickly undid his belt and allowed his pants to fall to the floor before picking her up and pressing her against the wall.

She clutched his shoulders as he lowered her onto his shaft, keeping her thighs wide open and controlling her descent with his hands. She shuddered in ecstasy as he moved inside her, crying out with increasing urgency at the peak of every thrust. Eventually, he let her wrap her legs around his waist and control the pace as she became more and more insistent while his hands exposed and worshipped her breasts.

Looking up into her face at the moment of her climax, for a moment Tetsu thought he saw a flicker of golden light in her eyes before she screamed but his own orgasm came moments later and the vision was lost. When it was over, he carried her limp form over to the bed and gently laid his goddess down on the soft mattress before sliding in next to her and promptly falling asleep.

#

The two soldiers flanking the doorway snapped to attention as Cathak Agani entered the control room of the Brass Pyramid, stepping up to the central console where her companions waited. The console itself was little more than a shallow triangular sandbox but the way the sands shifted and flowed inside betrayed the fact that it was no child’s playpen. Misari, the Air Caste member of their Sword Sisterhood, poured over the revelations within while the others watched patiently.

“Any news as yet?” Agani asked her superior in a low voice.

Delani shook her head. “Nothing significant; blockages in the Northeast Dragon Line have made the region’s essence flows chaotic as predicted. What news from High Town?”

“Most of the local Dragonbloods are scouring the forests trying to chase out the Anathema,” Agani muttered, “but lack of success has eroded their focus. It’s more of a generalized hunting expedition now. The fortifications are proceeding on schedule and the slaver assured me that our workforce will be in shape by the time we have a site to excavate. Oh and there’s been some reports of some sort of disturbance at the graveyard this morning but the scouts I sent reported that the site is quiet now, if disturbing.”

“Good,” Delani scowled, “I tire of trivial distractions. We must focus on obtaining the Trove, at this point nothing else matters.”

“What happens after that? Settle down with Sanejin and pump out a bunch of kids?”

Delani gave her a look. “You were just as tempted,” she observed. “Children that would be guaranteed to exalt… it’s amazing that it’s not standard practive.”

“At the expense of the purity of our bloodline,” Agani pointed out.

“And just how many of us are so pure anyway?” Delani asked pointedly.

Misari cleared her throat, calling for attention without looking away from her calculations. “Please forgive me for interrupting your conversation, ladies, but if you’re going to talk please take it outside so that I can concentrate?”

“I need to leave anyway,” Sarro interrupted, “I think Banko may be close to giving birth.”

“How is her health considering the greatly accelerated gestation?” Delani asked in cold, clinical, terms.

“Remarkably well, considering the nature of the baby,” Sarro answered. “I believe the remarkably fast growth is a combination of a side effect of the Water of Eternal Perfection compounded by the child’s ghost-blood...”

“Fascinating,” Delani interrupted, “you may attend to her and watch after the household. I will keep you updated.”

Nodding, the wood caste strode out the door on her long legs. Stepping up to the sandbox, Delani looked down at the flowing sands, chaotically swirling like a stormy sea. “Can you truly divine anything from this mess?” she asked the air caste.

“Absolutely,” Misari replied with confidence, “it looks bad… in fact if this were a living city it would need to be flattened and rebuilt from scratch. But the patterns of the old city are still there underneath. We’ll find the Trove, it’s only a matter of time.”

#

“Do you think the Anathema killed him?” Rage asked as his girlfriend checked the old man’s body. The day had been spent searching every square foot around the Cynis mansion re-acquiring the Anathema’s trail. The arduous search, however, had born fruit, leading them right back to the doss house he and Feather had discovered on their first night here. Coming back here had been a shock but not a surprise, the Chosen of Mars was still mentally kicking himself for not thinking to check this place sooner.

“Hard to say,” Edge answered, carefully checking the wound, “whatever did kill him was not a natural blade. Whoever wielded it also wanted him to suffer a long, agonizing, death. They purposefully missed his heart but the surrounding area is… inflamed. Know of any weapons that would burn and poison a body at the same time?”

He shook his head. “That’s a new one on me… perhaps a Demon? Or something of the Underworld? Not that we can discount some unique Solar invention, of course.”

“Possibly, this god is long dead in any case,” she sighed, pulling herself away from the corpse. “Which would explain why this place was such an epicentre of activity despite outward appearances. If I were a betting girl, however, I’d lay even odds that this is our Anathema’s doing, covering his tracks after being discovered last night.”

“So our trail goes cold?” Rage muttered, “bloody incompetent Dragonbloods!”

“Anything in that secret compartment?”

Rage shook his head again. “Empty… do you think he was killed for whatever he was hiding in there?”

“Likely but I wouldn’t assume anything, darling,” Edge sighed. “Whatever we’ve stepped in here is far more complex than it first appears. Greyfalls is expending too much effort on this backwards little town, Anathema are snooping around, Little Gods are dying… honestly, I expected to get here and discover some idiot Scavenger Lord messing with a First Age artefact or maybe some rogue Sidereal trying to put a fast one over on Heaven.”

“Feather seemed to think there was something more sinister going on from the start,” Rage mused.

Edge shrugged. “Maybe her instincts are better than mine.”

“His instincts,” Rage corrected.

Edge giggled. “She’s not a ‘he’ right now.”

Frowning, Rage flopped onto the floor. “I’ve been thinking, maybe sending Feather into the whorehouse alone in his condition wasn’t the best idea.”

“Oh, she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself,” Edge scoffed. “You said yourself that it wouldn’t be the first time one of you had gone undercover as the opposite sex.”

He sighed. “I guess you’re right. So, what’s the plan now?”

Edge stared at the body for a while before answering. “I have an idea. First thing we need to do is find a shovel…”

#

Rolling over to shift the weight of her gravid belly off her back, Tetsu draped her arm across Sanejin’s muscular chest while the other probed the bulge of her abdomen. She noted with some chagrin that she was huge and wondered how her love managed to put up with her for so long. On the other hand, she felt eager to get it over with, the novelty of the pregnancy having paled months ago.

Feeling mischievous, she licked her lips as she gazed down over her god’s beautiful nakedness, her eyes alighting hungrily on the member between his legs. Slowly shifting so as not to wake him, she rose up onto her hands and knees and took him into her mouth, savouring his taste as she rand her tongue over the head. He moaned when she kissed the tip, quickly waking as he hardened in her mouth. He looked both amused and wistfully adoring as he looked down at her, making her heart beat a little faster.

A sudden sharp pain as something tightened in her nether regions made her stop and gasp for air. Sanejin asked her what was wrong but another wave of pain as that same something tightened harder inside her rolled through her. Soon she was lying on her back with her head in Sanejin’s lap as the contractions continued, clutching his hand tight as she pushed, trying to force their baby out of her. With one final, body-clenching, squeeze, she felt herself split apart as their daughter came into the world…

Bolting upright, it took Tetsu a moment to realize where he was. His heart was racing and he was drenched with sweat, the phantom pains between his legs an unpleasant reminder of the dream. The light filtering through the high window was weak enough that he could tell it was getting dark outside.

“Tetsu!” Feather called to him, grasping his shoulder as she pressed herself against his back. “Tetsu, it was just a dream.”

Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his face and forced himself to calm down. “I’m sorry, I keep having these… dreams. Vivid dreams…. Sanejin says they might be memories from the previous bearers of my exaltation.”

She pulled him back down into her embrace and cuddled against his side, wrapping one of her legs around his. “What do you dream about?”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t want to know and I’m too embarrassed to say. If they are memories, they’re the memories of a dead person; I’d rather leave them to rest.”

It was obvious she didn’t like the answer but she accepted it. “All right, why don’t you tell me what was so urgent you had to run off without telling me?”

Sighing, he took another deep breath and told her everything. At first he didn’t mean to tell her all of it without omitting important details but soon he found himself explaining things that he didn’t have to explain, detailing his innermost thoughts and expressing his fears. It started with little things here and there until it started coming out of his mouth in a torrent and he was unable to stop it, unburdening himself like he never had with anyone before. When he was done, he felt strangely lighter, as if talking it out had purged something he hadn’t realized was gnawing at him.

“Wow,” Feather whispered, sounding like she didn’t know what else to say, “so what are you going to do now?”

Smirking, he watched her eyes widen with surprise as he rolled on top of her. She gasped as he penetrated her slowly, savouring every sensation. He enjoyed making her writhe underneath him, gifting her with climax after climax as he held himself in check. When she started thrusting her own hips insistently, he held onto her as he rolled over, allowing her to set the pace of their lovemaking as she bounced atop his rod. Overcome by a wild, sexual, frenzy, Feather gyrated with complete abandon until Tetsu climaxed hours later, promptly collapsing on top of him immediately after.

Tetsu blinked only to discover himself waking to a dimly lit sky as Creation prepared to greet the dawn. Extricating himself carefully from Feather’s embrace, she sighed longingly in her sleep when he kissed her cheek and whispered words of endearment into her ear. Reluctantly leaving her intoxicating beauty before it would tempt him to linger, he doused himself with cold water before creeping from their chambers and out to his appointed meeting with Kamaria.

The ruins of Red Wolf’s mansion amazed Tetsu as he surveyed the wreckage in the twilight. Half of the grounds were buried under the landslide, most of the rest had been crushed under the falling tower or had literally fallen off the edge of the cliff. Looking over the edge of the precipice where he, Kano and White Crane had fallen, he saw that the forest had almost been scraped clean by the passage of falling rock. It was hard to believe he’d even managed to stand upright as he sated down the long slope to where it plunged steeply down into the river far below.

“Unpleasant memories?”

Looking around, Tetsu blinked when he discovered Kamaria sitting on a boulder only a few feet away. “How did you manage to get that close to me?” He asked, his sudden apprehension about the whole meeting elevating his pulse.

“Trade secret,” Kamaria answered unhelpfully.

Sitting on a boulder a few feet from her, Tetsu kept his hands in plain sight. “How is Aten?”

“Stroppy and acting like a child,” Kamaria sighed. “Valdis is coddling him like a mother hen but his wounds are mending, in fact the bones in his arm have already healed. The stomach injury prevents him from moving much, however.”

“Hopefully I’ll get a chance to properly apologize for that,” Tetsu said. “He and I need to have a talk about Cathak Markul.”

“You say you only buried his friend?”

“He came upon me mostly dead from a terrible wound in his chest, being dragged by his horse. The wound was mortal, so I asked his last wishes and buried his body, taking his valuables as an agreed upon payment so that his spirit could pass on peacefully.”

Kamaria tisked. “A pretty way to describe robbing the dead.”

“He had no more need of worldly goods,” Tetsu shrugged, “and his belongings bought me more trouble than I bargained for. His blade was sundered and fell over the edge of that cliff down there when I received what should have been a mortal wound at the hands of a man wearing red.”

“Yes, Menji told us the story of your Exaltation.”

Tetsu’s eyebrows raised. “Did you kill him?”

She blinked, her eyes widening for a moment. “Menji’s dead?” She asked, seemingly shocked.

“I discovered his body after returning from the graveyard,” he informed her.

“I swear that he was alive when we left the inn yesterday morning. No we didn’t return yesterday at all, we’d holed up in the cave to tend to Aten’s wounds.”

“His breast had been pierced by a blade,” Tetsu informed her, “it looked as if the blade had been red hot, perhaps even coated in some sort of caustic substance.”

Kamaria got up and started to pace, nibbling her knuckles. “I don’t know of a weapon or charm that would inflict such damage but it sounds dire. Maybe Ullah didn’t slip back into the Underworld or one of the Dragonbloods discovered him? I’ll assume for the sake of this conversation that you didn’t kill him.”

“Yes, I’ll return that courtesy,” Tetsu agreed. “It’s a mystery with few clues. Before he died, the only clue he gave me was the word ‘red’.”

She paused in mid step. “This man in red who wounded you?”

“Possibly,” Tetsu shrugged. “Maybe a fire caste dragonblood or just an assassin in red, or maybe he was talking about something else entirely. Who knows? The real question I think we have for each other is what are we doing in River’s Bend?”

Sitting back down, Kamaria gracefully crossed her legs. “Yes, you’re right of course. Mysteries can wait. So, who should go first?”

“I will because my story’s very simple,” Tetsu sighed. “Menji convinced me to help the people of River’s Bend, at the time I assumed he thought I was a rogue dragonblood but in hindsight he probably thought I was a convenient patsy. I Exalted in my attempt but was pitched off this cliff for my trouble. Ullah rescued me and I decided, partly with her urging, to continue to try to help the people of low town.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re a philanthropist?”

Tetsu laughed and shook his head. “Not at all, I’ve been a swindler and a cheat, a thief and a thug. I’ve even tried a little banditry in desperate times. But my entire life up until I arrived in this town was marked by desperation. I never really had a real choice with what to do with my life, I simply stumbled from place to place, my actions defined by the world around me. When I arrived at River’s Bend and after I exalted, I realized that I wanted something more. All my life, I’ve watched the strong oppress the weak. Now I have the power to do something about it.”

“So your concern is the people of low town?” Kamaria asked rhetorically, nodding in understanding. “But how do you plan to ease their burden? If it wasn’t the dragonbloods it would be this Sanejin who rules from on high or the Guild or any of a dozen local powers.”

“Red Wolf and White Crane broke their spirit,” Tetsu explained. “Getting rid of them was a good first step but if Greyfalls makes a stand here, the town will become a battlefield. If that happens, River’s Bend will suffer; anything is superior to that outcome.”

After a moment of silence to consider her words, Kamaria took a breath to speak. “Valdis and I are here to retake the Lunar Manse at the top of this mountain. It is sacred to our people and we wish to see it restored to a place of veneration.”

“Someone told me you might be ‘Lunar Exalted’,” Tetsu broached. “What does that mean exactly?”

“Plainly, we are the Chosen of the Moon in the way that you are the Chosen of the Sun,” she explained. “The goddess Luna exalted us to protect her beloved Creation and serve as companions to keep Solars like yourself grounded in reality. That second duty hasn’t been relevant since the Usurpation, however, years of exile have changed us from what you may remember from your previous incarnations and new Solars haven’t appeared until recent times. Currently, we have turned our efforts to forming a perfect mortal society that can sustain itself without catastrophes like the Balorian Crusade.”

“Well,” Tetsu sighed, “it doesn’t seem like you’ve had much success.”

She shrugged. “The problem is getting people to agree on what makes a better society,” she admitted. “Not to mention we Lunars highly prise individual freedoms. Each Lunar tries to develop their own nation where possible to see if their theories stand up in practice. Unfortunately, not all of us are up to the task, mistakes are made. But we keep trying, what else can we do? Tell me, do you desire to rule River’s Bend?”

Snorting, Tetsu shook his head. “Me, rule? No. My father used to tell me that people need to solve their own problems or those problems will never really be solved. Once the lords stop fighting over the place and I know things will remain as peaceful as they’re ever going to be, I’ll leave too. Besides, the village would be in more danger if I stuck around, the Immaculates would level the place.”

“Wise of you,” Kamaria complimented cautiously. “Our goal here is to retake the manse on top of this mountain. You would know it as ‘The Palace of Eternal Pefection’ but we know it by another name: ‘The Crescent Bower of Luna’s Grace’. It has been blessed with our goddess’ presence on a number of occasions and remains a holy place to us, particularly important since it is accessible to us here on the Threshold. Sanejin has kept it from us since our return from the Wyld but our elders sensed that he has been weakened by recent events. In addition, they have concerns about this region and wished us to scout for some nebulous danger they were unable to explain fully to us. Between the Legion and the presence of a Deathknight, I have to say there is certainly something going on here.”

“You’ll have to explain what a Deathknight is in a moment but I think I can fill in that piece of the puzzle for you if in exchange you tell me what you know of Aten and his friends. The dragonbloods are looking for a cache of first age arms known as the Oracle’s Trove. If you would believe the stories, it’s less of a cache and more of an arsenal, enough to conquer large parts of the East or end the civil war in the Realm if one has an army large enough for the job. Before you ask, I’ve made a vow not to exploit that possible treasure for my own gain; local interests are actively suppressing any information about it just in case it happens to be true. The previous owner, apparently, is supposed to return for their toys.”

Kamria rolled her eyes. “As if a new exalt, even a Solar, would have the wisdom to wield such power, if it indeed exists at all. I have to admit, I’m several hundred years old and even I wouldn’t trust myself, let alone some of my elders. Such power in the wrong hands… speaking of which, the Deathknights are something new. About the time you Solars started to reappear, these agents of the Deathlords also began to pop up. They’re powerful lieutenants for those fell beings, sent on the most dangerous missions. They seem to be some sort of mockery of Creation’s exalted, mirroring us in many ways. Most of those encountered work towards the Deathlord’s ultimate goal: the destruction of life. Ullah appeared to be what they call a ‘Midnight caste’, their version of a Zenith able to twist the minds of men to the worship of the dead. Do not trust her, whatever she did she was simply using you.”

“And Aten?”

She sighed. “We’ve spied on his group before. Aten Drassilson and Ogren Gunnar, accompanied by a little girl called only Messia. Aten is a Twilight caste, one of the thinkers of the solar exalted, hailing from the East but further to the southwest inside the Realm. Ogren was apparently a pirate raider from the Northwest who fled east from the Immaculates and a Dawn caste solar. Messia is an unknown; we believe they picked her up somewhere in their travels together more recently. They’ve been roaming the East for a few decades, fought some Lunars, made friends with others. The Wyld Hunt has been chasing them for years without success.”

“How does Cathak Markul fit in with them?”

Kamaria shrugged. “Unimportant in the scheme of things, he joined up about the same time as Messia but next to two solars he’s little more than an errand boy. The reason we were spying on their circle was Ogren. Aten’s a notorious womanizer, his motivations are easy to read. Ogren, however, has been making noises about conquering the entire Realm and from that I’ve heard, he just might be skilled enough at the arts of war to pull it off in a few centuries. Ogren’s a warlord, plain and simple, if he hears about this Trove… actually, come to think of it, that explains Aten’s presence in River’s Bend. He said that Ogren and Messia had taken refuge with one of our elders, Ogren must have sent him to scout ahead.”

Tetsu bit his lower lip. “At least we don’t have to worry about him for a little while. I have no interest in preventing you from claiming the Temple unless you have an interest in preventing me from completing my oath and ensuring that the Trove remains secret until such time as the rightful owner arrives to claim it.”

“I would rather see the Trove remain hidden for all time,” Kamaria replied, “but I’m willing to ally myself with you on this matter and Valdis will also honour my word. I promise not to breathe a word of your mission to Aten. Creation needs warriors right now, not more warmongers.”

“Thank you for that, Kamaria,” Tetsu said, standing and holding out his hand to clasp.

Kamaria stood and took the offered hand, shaking it firmly. Tetsu was amazed to discover that she could look him in the eye without tilting her head. “And thank you for the information. I hope our next meeting can be under more pleasant circumstances.”

“I’m glad to be working with you,” Tetsu answered honestly. “By the way, I’m staying in the Temple as a guest of Sanejin. I promise not to tell him about your mission as well.”

“I know,” she answered with a mysterious smirk before changing into a bird and flying away.

“So that’s how she does it,” Tetsu grumbled as he turned to walk back up the mountain.

#

“Push, Bonzo!” Sarro shouted over the woman’s screams.

The baby was huge, Bonzo’s stomach so distended that she’d been bedridden for the last day. Her face had a hollow, drawn, look about it and her skin had an unhealthy white pallor as she strained in the throes of birth.

The Wood caste was worried. Bonzo’s skin was cold and clammy to the touch, her body weak from the strain the unnatural baby had put on her system. The exertions of birth were just making her weaker as it progressed, enough that she had risked inducing the birth. The biggest problem were the guardsmen who were flailing about the room trying to follow her orders but panicking and tripping each other up. The one who’s helmet still smelt of vomit had his face screwed up in pain as Bonzo gripped his hand, the girl squeezing it so hard that Sarro could swear she heard it pop several times.

“Almost there,” Sarro breathed when she saw the head, cradling it as the child emerged from her mother and began to wail. Quickly severing the umbilical cord, she placed the pale, dark-haired, little girl in her crib before returning to tend the panting mother as she gasped weakly on the bed, close to death.

Then, with the ordeal over, the guard who had held her hand fainted.

#

“The Dragon Line still runs strongly through the valley,” Misari explained to the gathering of her compatriots inside the brass pyramid as they stood around the triangular sandbox in the command room. The sand was moving, showing the currents and eddies of the valley’s geomantic flows, allowing her to divine their nature. She pointed to the strongest current that ran from the northeast to the southwest towards the Blessed Isle. “And you can see how it affects the currents around it. The factory-cathedral that history tells us once stood on Mount Makota is gone but Oracle’s temple, known in those times as The Pinnacle Beyond Perfection, still sits atop the summit. Since we still have the records from when it was ransacked after the Usurpation however, I think we can discount it for now along with Sanejin’s Lunar manse.”

“If we’re discounting those, I assume you have found other places to look?” Delani inquired, even her patience strained.

“More by inference than actual discovery,” Misari continued, pointing to another area in the valley where the essence flows swirled around continuously. “That is a new demesne, I can’t tell you what aspect just yet but I’m certain it was formed after the Usurpation. Unfortunately, that pretty much discounts it from being a place of interest in our search but from what I can see, it has formed over the course of centuries as the bleed off from the dragon line settled with the decay of Makota City into more natural terrain. We know that demesnes are more common along the Dragon Line, so this doesn’t come as a surprise. What is surprising is this region over here.”

She pointed to an area of chaos, through which the essence rippled like a stormy sea. “That isn’t natural; either something’s interfering with the brass pyramids or, more likely, something in that area is disturbing the essence flows. Now, I don’t think it’s a manse or demesne, a demesne doesn’t do that and if you want to build a manse so that it doesn’t show up on a geomantic scan, you make it blend into the background, not throw up a smoke screen. No, something is disturbing the essence flows of this entire area. We’ll need to form a search party to comb the area for clues.”

“Agani,” Delani said, turning to her second in command, “go to high town, get Sarro and find me a local guide. Hathor, I want you to hand pick our best men and prepare them for the expedition. Misari, I’m leaving you in charge of our forces here. Ladies, we’re off to find ourselves some treasure…”

#

Pacing back and forth across the room, Feather blistered the air with a constant string of curses. Yet again her ire was directed at the no-good, lying, cheating, thieving, ruthless, noble, loving, sensitive, courageous, self-sacrificing…

She paused to tear her hair out when even trying to curse the man turned her thoughts to almost worshipful pride. He was a thief and a swindler but those character flaws just made him more endearing to her. Tetsu wasn’t anything like the mad Solars she’d read about in the history books during her training in Yu Shan; just a man trying to cope with enormous power and responsibility, a man who didn’t want to rule and just wanted to make Creation a better place. Forced to sit down as she went weak in the knees, she couldn’t help but remember the wonderful night they’d spent together. Memories of his touch made her pulse race and her skin tingle; her heart ached at his absence.

“What in the name of all the gods is wrong with me?” She asked herself, holding her face in her slender hands. She’d been angry with him for leaving without telling her again but at least she knew he was going to meet the Lunar at dawn. Feather had considered following him but she’d woken too late and she also knew that Tetsu would tell her everything as soon as he returned. She also considered sneaking out to let Rage and Edge in on everything she’d learned but… she hadn’t. Instead, she’d decided to have a bath, dress and wait for Tetsu to get back.

Absently, she wondered why she’d picked such an alluring outfit anyway. The gauzy blue silk robe with white and gold carp enhance her skin tone as well as her eyes and hair but left nothing to the imagination. The upper half twined around her body, held up only by the back of her neck, leaving cleavage and midriff exposed. The lower half was only joined by several silver clasps on her hips so that the skirt would expose more of her than it concealed as she moved. It was totally ludicrous but for some reason she was wearing it anyway along with a small amount of make-up and perfume. In fact, looking at her reflection in the mirror, she’d even felt the desire to get herself pierced in several places.

As she calmed herself, she resumed pacing, this time foregoing the swearing. She smiled when she noted that the dress did show her body off expertly, which she quickly justified as part of her cover in the whore house. Feather did, however, ignore the small voice from the back of her mind that protested that it was merely a justification.

“All right, think Feather,” she admonished herself. “There’s something seriously wrong with this whole picture. Several days ago, you were a man, remember? A man with a mission. We have a Deathknight knocking on the door, Terrestrials who might be playing right into their hands and a bunch of Solars and Lunars stirring everything up. No wonder destiny in this area is so screwed up…”

She paused, stopping in her tracks as she thought of Tetsu again. “All right, I have to admit not all of the Solars are that bad. In fact Tetsu could be a real asset with the proper guidance…”

Feather found herself considering her situation with Tetsu. She was a Sidereal, he was a Solar, her kind had imprisoned his exaltation over a millennia ago. By all rights, she should hand him over to Rage and Edge but… she realized she couldn’t do it. It wasn’t just that she didn’t want to do it, it would be such a waste of potential. Sitting down again, she crossed her legs and took a deep breath, closing her eyes so that she could cogitate the thought with a clear head.

It didn’t take long for her to have an epiphany. “Ayesha Ura is right,” she whispered, opening her eyes. Everyone knew that her group was working in secret to aid the new Solars, now she understood why. The Usurpation had been a mistake, an overreaction to the Sidereal’s own failures to properly guide the Solars along with the course of Creation; a cover-up of monumental scale. If there were more like Tetsu, genuinely fighting for a better Creation rather than themselves, then they could be the Sidereal’s most potent allies.

“Tetsu would understand,” Feather told herself as she stared into space. “If he knew what I know, saw what I’d seen, he’d understand why what we do is so important, so essential. Together we could fix Creation…”

If they let you work together, her subconscious remarked sarcastically, which they won’t. Unfortunately, Feather’s conscious mind had to concur, which led to another realization. “Not unless it’s my job,” she told herself, a half-baked plan formulating in her head.

She internally admonished herself for being a foolhardy idiot even as she got up and knelt on the floor to begin the first stage of her plan. Clasping her hands together, she made several significant symbols, chanting to focus her mind on the task. “Great Uvanavu, your humble servant Shining Feather seeks an audience. Hear my plea, Great Uvanavu, and answer in the name of the Five Elements, the stars and the Maidens.”

Opening her eyes, Feather found herself staring at a ghostly image of Uvanavu standing before her, which made her fall back on her ass in surprise. “Sir! I, er, didn’t expect you to manifest in person…”

“Feather?” The god blinked, staring. After a moment, however, he shook his head and quickly composed himself. “Pardon me, we’d been informed of your plight but I hadn’t expected you to be so… excuse me, I know you probably don’t want compliments on your appearance right now.”

Despite his words, Feather’s heart did flutter at the compliment. For a god like Uvanavu who was so close to Venus, for him to remark on one’s beauty was quite extraordinary. “I… thank you, sir, I’ll take that in the spirit in which it’s meant. May I also apologize for my deception last time we met, I was merely trying to stir up the courts to make it harder for my enemy to hide.”

Uvanavu stared at her. “Who are you and what have you done with Shining Feather? No, jokes aside, I discovered your true intent shortly after you left my office, though I had to do a lot of placating with the Department of Endings just to stop them from following you, though I was unable to prevent them from sending Edge instead.”

“Yes, I think you can tell them that she conveyed their dismay,” Feather muttered, remembering the fight. “Was it she who reported my disposition to Yu Shan?”

“Actually no,” the god answered, looking pained. “But that business can wait. Why did you call?”

Feather took a deep breath dreading the reaction to the next question. “Considering my action in deceiving you, along with my need to seek a cure for my condition, I was wondering if I could humbly request a transfer to the Convention of Essence Wielders.”

He raised his eyebrows. “You want to be placed under the command of Ayesha Ura?”

It was a question that held more weight in Sidereal politics than it seemed. Joining the Convention of Essence Wielders now was, for practical purposes, proclaiming her new allegiance. “I know you sympathize with many of her goals, Uvanavu,” Feather explained, “and after encountering a Solar for the first time, I find much merit in your point of view that I’d never understood before.”

The god looked troubled. “You know that Destined Edge cleaves to the policies of the Chair of the Capital Convention,” he said, using Chejop Kejack’s formal title, “and your friend Rage has no problems associating with her.”

“Rage will have to make his own decision,” Feather sighed with deep regret, “but I must do what I feel is right.”

“All right,” Uvanavu finally said after consideration, “I’ll broach the subject and start the paperwork. In the meantime, we need to talk about your mission and you specifically. I told you that we were not informed of your encounter with the Water of Eternal Perfection… and yes, we know about the water. No, yesterday I received a missive from the Division of Secrets… about you, tangentially.”

Feather couldn’t hide her surprise. “But I don’t have any secrets… well, not any secrets that the Division of Secrets could think would have any baring on my mission…”

“It’s not that sort of missive,” Uvanavu explained. “In fact, usually I’d be jumping for joy at this news. I’m sorry I’m leading into this slowly but the news is going to be quite a shock, I’m afraid. I’ll leave it up to you, do you want me to ease you into this or tell you right out?”

“I’m not sure my nerves could stand it right now,” Feather scowled, wiping her brow. “Ease me into it.”

“Very well, there’s a discussion going on right now about whether or not to recall you from your mission…”

“No!” Feather immediately protested, her thoughts immediately turning to Tetsu. “I can’t go, I need hi… I mean I need to see this mission through, we’re so close to a breakthrough!”

Uvanavu held up his hand to calm her. “The reason we’re discussing recalling you to Yu Shan is that the message that was released from the Division of Secrets indicates that a baby was recently conceived that will one day inherit the exaltation of a Siderial. We want you to bring her back to safety.”

“Here in the whorehouse?” Feather asked, wringing her hands together. “There are hundreds of girls here; it could be any of them, not to mention the ones down in low town…”

“We know exactly who she is,” Uvanavu interrupted, looking down at Feather pointedly, “that’s why we’re thinking about recalling you.”

Even though he’d practically stated it outright, it took a few moments for Feather’s brain to piece together the clues. When she did, her eyes widened, almost as if she were begging Uvanavu to not make it so. Then her gaze went down to her traitorous midriff. Could she feel something there, moving? “No,” she whispered, her hands clutching her stomach, “no, no, no, no, no. No! I can’t be… I had some maiden tea yesterday, it should still…”

He shook his head. “According to the note from the Division of Secrets, you conceived this morning. Because of the nature of her destiny, you are ordered NOT to terminate your pregnancy. She is to be raised here on Yu Shan under the finest tutors so that she can grow into her responsibilities. It is so rare in these times that we get such warning of a Sidereal birth; we cannot afford to waste the opportunity. I’m sure you understand.”

Feather didn’t ask permission to sit, she just did. If Uvanavu was offended, he didn’t comment on it. “I… do they know who the father is?”

“No,” Uvanavu shrugged, “and they don’t particularly care. He will have no part in her childhood anyway.”

That stung Feather for reasons she couldn’t fathom. “He’s the Solar I was spying on.”

Shocked, the god broke into an uncharacteristic fit of coughs. “What the devil was going though your mind, Feather?”

“I don’t know!” She protested, close to tears. “I had him right under my thumb! I was in charge, the goal was simple. But the more I learned about him, the more I came to know him as a person, I realized what good he could do for Creation! He’s not interested in power, he just wants to make things better for people! Isn’t that what we all want? Offering him my body just seemed natural, after all I’m supposed to be a whore; it’s all part of the role, nothing I haven’t done before…”

She paused again when she noticed that Uvanavu had a strangely knowing grin on his face. “What?” she asked.

“You’re in love with him,” he observed.

It was Feather’s turn to splutter. “I am NOT in love with him! That’s absurd!”

Uvanavu rolled his eyes. “Joybringers, you spend most of your days bringing couples together but every time one of you falls in love, suddenly the sky is falling! Tell me, do you find yourself constantly thinking about him? Do you feel his absence as well as his presence? Do you find yourself excusing his flaws, even admiring them…”

“I’m not in love,” Feather protested with far less vehemence and a lot more doubt and insecurity. “I can’t be in love, I’m… I should be a man.”

“Feather, for most gods I can say as a whole we don’t really understand gender,” Uvanavu admitted, “I think I do more than most but that’s part of my job. But I will say, knowing what I do and having lived many human lives as both genders, perhaps you should consider that your current form is what you make of it. If you really have found love with this Solar then you court tragedy but if this love has blessed you not only with a child of great importance but a sense of purpose in joining the Convention of Essence Wielders… I think deep down you know what you must do. I’ll recommend that you stay on this mission to the end but I expect another update in the next forty eight hours.”

As he faded out of existence, Feather was left staring at the floor, speechless.

#

Knocking of Kano’s door, Tetsu entered his room to find the boy half asleep at his desk, still reading the note from his father. “Kano,” he said to call attention to himself, “is there anything you have to tell me?”

The former prostitute turned to look at him, his eyes rimmed with black. “When I was much younger, before Red Wolf kidnapped me, my father used to take me swimming in the river,” he explained. “North of town there’s a small lake just off the edge of the river, dad called it our secret place and told me not to tell anyone about it. Honestly, I’d forgotten it even existed until today. He left it up to me whether to tell you or not, said he trusted my judgement.”

“Thank you, Kano, I appreciate your trust,” Tetsu answered with a sigh. “I’m not sure if I deserve it but I appreciate it.”

“So we’re going to the lake,” Kano said, half standing before Tetsu placed his hand on the god-blood’s shoulder.

“No,” Tetsu admonished, “I’m going to the lake. It’s far too dangerous for you to come with me.”

Kano shrugged off his hand and stood up. “I can fight.”

“All right then,” Tetsu sighed again with regret for what he was about to do, “hit me.”

“What?” Kano asked, blinking stupidly.

“Prove to me you can fight and you can come. Hit me.”

Frowning, Kano balled up his fists tentatively and lashed out half-heartedly. All business, Tetsu grabbed his arm, twisted it and kicked him in the stomach with a fraction of his full force, sending Kano to the ground gasping for breath. “You didn’t even really try that time,” Tetsu observed, “don’t think I’ll hold back on this just because we’re friends. If you don’t try to hurt me, you’re not going to get anywhere.”

“Shut up,” Kano gasped, climbing up his desk to get back on his feet, “I won against Inkfinger.”

“You won against a scholar who probably had less fighting experience than you,” Tetsu noted, “even if he is a ghost. You father hid something in that lake, Kano, something that will have guardians. Those guardians won’t give a crap that you’re his son; they’ll rip you to pieces given half a chance. If you want to come, you need to prove you’re an asset rather than a liability. So hit me if you can.”

Growling, Kano’s next punch was more serious but even before his exaltation, Tetsu would have blocked it easily. The life of a whore just didn’t build the required upper arm strength that back-breaking labour and street fighting did. But the punch was a serious attempt and Tetsu respected that, so he responded in kind. Kano didn’t even see the punch that knocked him several feet into the wall and left him sprawled face first on the floor, hardly able to move.

“Kano, I’m not doing this to torture you,” Tetsu explained, feeling awful inside but not letting it show, “I’m just trying to get through your thick skull. You aren’t ready for this yet. By Malfeas, I don’t know if my skills are up to the task. On the other hand, I’m expendable and you’re not, so it’s my job to go.”

“You’re not expendable,” Kano gasped, “I am. Even if I die, at least I can say that I tried to make a difference.”

“You’re the only other person who knows the location of the lake,” Tetsu replied, “that makes you more important than you know. If I fail, you have to place the next person you trust on the path until someone succeeds. If you don’t then your father will have spent his life for nothing.”

Kano growled again and eased himself into a sitting position. “All right, I’ll trust you this time but if you don’t come back I’m going to piss on your ghost.”

“Believe me,” Tetsu muttered as he walked out, “if I don’t come back, what you do to me will be paradise compared to what Feather will.”

Returning to his chambers, Tetsu found the aforementioned subject of his affections waiting for him with her hands crossed over her chest and glaring at him evilly. “Darling,” he greeted tentatively, trying to kiss her on the lips but getting her cheek. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d know I went to meet Kamaria.”

She held her perfect hand up in front of his face. “Never mind that you left without telling me again. I’ve been worried sick all morning… again!”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, taking her hand so he could massage it, “I didn’t mean to make you worry about me but you have to accept that what I’m doing is dangerous.”

Feather was obviously fighting her instincts to stay mad at him. “Stop that,” she ordered, glancing down at the hand he was rubbing.

“Ok,” he said, pulling her close so that he could kiss her on the lips. She fought for a moment but melted into him as the shock wore off.

“I hate you,” she told him between lingering kisses. “You’re secretive, mysterious, stubborn, overprotective, stupid…”

“But I still love you,” he admitted when she paused to search for more adjectives.

She looked at him like he’d just slapped her in the face. “I… I love you too,” she whispered quickly, hurling herself into his arms and sobbing.

“Feather,” he said gently, stroking her hair, “is something wrong?”

“No! No,” she refuted, pushing away from him too quickly and patting tears out of her eyes, “just nerves, or… hormones maybe. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so clingy…”

He smiled. “I like how you cling to me.”

Feather smiled back at him but gave him a playful punch on the shoulder that had a surprising amount of weight behind it. “Believe it or not, I’m not looking for a protector big guy. I can handle myself.”

“I know,” Tetsu answered simply, “but I have to go somewhere again today and I can’t tell you where.”

Her smile faded immediately. “Why? What did Kamaria have to say?”

“Just that she’s here to take over this temple and that Aten and his friend Ogren are probably looking for the Trove too. But I have a lead on where the Gnomon is and I’m going after it.”

Folding her arms over her chest again, Feather resume glaring at him. “Then I’m coming with you.”

Tetsu huffed in frustration. “Darling, I’ve just been through this with Kano. You are not coming with me into a probable death trap. I have no idea what I’ll find down there!”

“I’m not just going to let you wander off to your doom either,” Feather insisted. “You even said to me last night, you’re walking a fine line between disasters. Besides, I can’t think of a better place for this Gnomon thing than the bottom of a death trap. Let the dragonbloods die over it, not you.”

“And if they succeed and they get the Gnomon and that leads them to the Trove,” Tetsu said helplessly, allowing Feather to follow his unspoken logic. “Feather, I have to do this. And I need you of all people to believe I can do it, that I’m coming home. Because I’m coming home.”

Feeling herself choke up, Feather gulped. “Why?”

“Because I’m not going to let anything keep us apart,” he swore as he grasped her shoulders, “not the dragonbloods, not the Realm, not even the hordes of Malfeas or the Incarnae themselves. No matter what happens from this moment on you can count on one thing. I’m coming back for you.”

He kissed her again as she stood stunned then let her go before turning to walk out the door. “I’ll see you soon,” she whispered after him, staring longingly at the closed door that he left behind.

Chapter 16

“Halt!” V’neef Segoku ordered as he pulled up his horse in front of the stranger, his loud voice echoing through the forest. “State your name and intention, stranger.”

The traveller before him stood on a small, winding, trail that led through the valley to river’s bend. His cloak was heavy grey wool and he had the hood up but beneath it was easy for the trained eye of a dragonblood to spot the telltale hints of bulky armour under the fabric. The man’s build was also impressive, broad shouldered with a thick chest, used to training with weapons. Of course, he also wore a large blade on his back, not the size of a daiklave but still impressive for a mortal to carry.

Behind Segoku, his friends Peleps Kadan and Ledaal Tooke also pulled up their horses, the group’s household guards falling in behind them. “What have you caught here, V’neef?” Tooke asked as he looked down on the figure. “Some mortal mercenary?”

“Maybe a bandit,” Kadan suggested in his extremely deep voice, hefting the jadesteel bludgeon that the dragonblooded knew as a Goremaul over his shoulder.

“Nice boots,” the warrior complimented in a calm, confidant voice as he surveyed Kadan’s footwear. “Did you happen to purchase those boots from a wandering peddler?”

Kadan growled in outrage, showing the hot blood of a fire caste. “Do you presume to question your betters, mortal?”

“I’m looking for the peddler who made those boots,” the warrior explained without apology. “I’d heard he was staying in River’s Bend. Is that where you purchased them?”

“He’s got guts,” Tooke chuckled while Segoku sputtered with rage.

“No, I think he’s just stupid,” Kadan commented.

“I’ve been dying to test my new blade,” Segoku muttered, drawing a red jadesteel reaper daiklave from the sheathe on his horse before dismounting. “You should feel honoured that my blade will take its first taste of blood from your corpse, stranger.”

The stranger stood peacefully as Segoku raised the blade over his head, screaming an unearthly battlecry as his anima blazed to life. The red jadesteel left a burning arc through the air as it scythed down, intent on bisecting the warrior from crown to groin. A moment before it struck, the stranger flowed into action, drawing his own blade with a movement so fast that and observer could miss it in a blink.

Segoku stood frozen, his blade hanging over the stranger’s head m mere hair’s breadth from his skin. “Segoku?” Tooke pressed, worry creeping into the water caste’s voice. As if he’d heard him, Segoku turned to face them, moving the blade away from the stranger before his arms fell like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Kadan and Tooke saw that the fire caste’s eyes were empty and lifeless moments before two long wounds opened across his neck and stomach bleeding almost reluctantly as if even the corpse didn’t believe it was dead. Then it fell on its face, lifeless. The stranger had drawn and stuck two blows that not even Segoku had seen.

Kadan reacted first, spurring his horse forward as he swung his goremaul through the air over his head, leaving a trail of fallen branches in his wake. The stranger somersaulted over his first blow, striking as he landed to cleave the legs off of his horse. Rolling with the fall, Kadan kept his grip on his weapon and immediately span to swing again at his foe. This time spinning under the goremaul, the stranger’s thrust pierced Kadan through the eye, the tip neatly sliding through his brain.

The stranger caught the arrow that Tooke shot from his bow in mid air, leaving the final dragonblood gaping at his adversary. “Anathema!” Tooke cried out as the stranger started walking towards him with grim determination, looking to the men behind that looked ready to bolt. “Cowards!” Tooke cursed, then, loosing a string of arrows at his approaching death. The stranger battered them aside with both his arm and his blade casually as if the dragonblood’s skill meant nothing. Tooke drew his sword too late; the stranger flicked his clumsy stroke aside, vaulted over the horse and left the dragonblood’s corpse to fall out of the saddle in one direction while his head flew off into the bushes the other way.

Glaring at the guards from under his hood, the stranger growled. “You were no use to your masters, cowards like you are a waste of the air we breathe. Die.”

As the guards wheeled their horses to flee, the stranger pulled a score of throwing blades from under his robes, held between his fingers ten to each hand. Unleashing the entire volley in a single double-handed throw, the blades streaked through the air like angry hornets, smashing through all obstacles in their path. The guards fell one by one, most collapsing from their saddles with a blade piercing a vital organ. Others were clutched wounds that gushed blood, the blades having opened arteries so that they would bleed out rather than face a quick, painless, death. The last remaining guard thought that he alone had escaped just before a tree fell on him, crushing both him and his horse.

Once all was still and the forest was serene one again, the stranger continued along the dirt track, picking his way though bodies and puddles of blood.

#

“There you are,” Feather said to her partner as she alighted next to him on a tree branch, “what are you doing up here?”

Rage pointed to Menji’s inn. “We tracked the Solar back here to the old man’s place. We found him dead inside yesterday so Edge has taken his place. When the Solar returns, we spring the trap. You finally got away from the temple, huh? Find out anything?”

“Maybe too much,” Feather muttered, half to herself. “Before I tell you about it I need to ask you something, Rage. What do you really think about the Usurpation? I’m not sure we every really talked about it before.”

He shrugged. “I don’t think about the Usurpation other than battle strategies and tactics. It was a brilliantly executed coup, considering the nature of the enemy…”

“No, I’m asking you if you think it was morally right,” Feather interrupted.

“I don’t think about morals, Feather,” he shrugged, “I’m a weapon, point me at what you want killed and I kill it. The moment you start asking why your target needs to die, you’re on a slippery slope. Why does anyone need to die? Why do we even have a Division of Endings? Or Battle? By the way, what in all the gods are you wearing? Is that make-up?”

She was still wearing the dress she’d chosen to greet Tetsu in when he returned to their room. Feather noted that she was starting to like it… even if she needed jewellery to set if off just right. “Rage, things have changed. I’ve changed, even in the last few days since I saw you last.”

He snorted, keeping his eyes on Menji’s. “I told you those boobs really are making you crazy.”

She scowled at him. “I’m pregnant and the Division of Secrets says she’s going to grow up to be a Sidereal.”

He didn’t react for a moment until what she’d actually said sank in. “WHAT?!?” He hissed, clamping down on his own mouth to prevent himself from shouting. “Feather, what in all the stars in the sky were you doing to get yourself pregnant?”

Feather rolled her eyes. “Funnily enough, what every other woman does to get herself pregnant. Rage, I was in a whorehouse! It didn’t occur to you for one moment that I might not be able to get out of having sex at least once?”

“Actually, I thought you were good enough to talk your way out of it,” he grumbled, “now look where we are. Dare I ask who the father is?”

“Nobody important,” Feather lied smoothly, “but I’ve been ordered to keep it, so I have to. I’m probably going to be recalled to Yu Shan until the birth.”

Rage looked pained. “They’re going to split us up, they’ll have to. I’ll probably be reassigned to Edge.”

Nodding, it still hurt Feather that he was right and their partnership was ending. He just didn’t know the full extent of it. “I concur. I’ve also requested a transfer to the Convention of Essence Wielders.”

“Wait, what?” Rage asked, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I thought you despised faction politics?”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot over the last few days,” she admitted truthfully. “And I’m starting to think that Ayesha Ura might be right about a lot of things. Did we really do everything we could to save the Solars? Did we even try? The Contagion and the Balorian Crusade can be laid at our feet, we are ultimately responsible.”

“The Solars were mad,” Rage scoffed, “their own Incarnae turned away from them. There might have been nothing in the odds but the facts were clear, I think we did the right thing. Nobody could have known the repercussions and there’s nothing to say that the Solars themselves wouldn’t have wrecked Creation on their own.”

“Then I guess now we know where each of us really stands,” Feather whispered, holding back tears.

“Yeah,” Rage sighed, turning his eyes back down to Menji’s inn, “I guess we do.” After a long pause, he shrugged. “But I still say it’s those boobs making you crazy.”

#

The lake was a serene pool caught between the river and a wrinkle in the mountainside. The shifting sediment drifting downstream with the current had formed a sandbar, cutting the lake off from the rest of the river. It was small but Tetsu could tell from the dark colouration that it was deep. Surveying the terrain from his position on the mountainside, having walked along the top all the way from the Temple, the Eclipse caste noted the rock ledge that hung over the western edge of the water.

Descending to the edge of the water, Tetsu removed his shoes on the sandbar, keeping one eye on the water to see if he could spot anything moving below. Spying nothing, he pulled his arms out from the sleeves of his robe to give his arms more mobility, made sure his belt was secure and finally dived in.

Finding the water surprisingly clean and clear, it didn’t take Tetsu long to discover the mouth of the cave in the side of the mountain, a ragged gap full of stalagmites and stalactites that reminded him of teeth. Surfacing to take a breath, he made sure his lungs were full before diving back down with the intent of swimming through to the caverns beyond. Noting that there was a current that moved in and out of the cave mouth like the shallow breath of a giant beast, Tetsu had to drag himself through the maze of natural rock formations that almost blocked the entrance, his lungs aching a little more with every interminable moment. He almost thought he’d been trapped when he reached what looked to be a wall of sand before him until he looked up and noticed the surface of the water over his head.

Climbing upward, Tetsu emerged into an immense cavern illuminated by glowing blue fungus that grew from cracks in the walls. The sand underfoot quickly gave way to damp, cold, rock but Tetsu barely noticed his feet. His attention was taken by the giant statue that took up the entire wall opposite the natural pool, a massive idol depicting a regal-looking four-armed giant carrying an object of obvious significance in each hand. These objects were a spear, a shield, a horn and a laurel branch. The statue straddled a stone doorway with no visible hinges or seams. Emblazoned on the door was the full golden circle of the Zenith caste with first age writing around it.

Walking up to the door, Tetsu shook his head, wishing he’d brought Feather along after all. “What are you trying to tell me?” he mused out loud in consternation.

“By the four virtues shall the supplicant be tested,” a harsh, feminine, whisper echoed through the chamber in answer, making him jump. “Valour, Compassion, Temperance and Conviction, only the worthy soul will pass under the gaze of the Unconquered Sun and triumph.”

Looking around, Tetsu still couldn’t see anything, even in the shadows of the cavernous ceiling. “What are you, creature? Do you guard this place?”

“Gatekeeper, guardian, tour guide and test, I am the rhyme that knows riddles best, tread carefully, dear, lest you die like the rest!” the invisible speaker answered in a mocking sing-song voice.

“What are you?” Tetsu demanded, whirling around to see if he could catch the owner of the voice unawares. “Spirit? Demon? Fae?”

“Is it not in the mood to play games?” the voice asked, giggling. “It’s going to be very upset if that’s true, if it wants the prize.”

“You mean the Gnomon?”

The voice hissed, suddenly sounding more serious. “So it knows about the Gnomon but that won’t help it pass the test. Only the most virtuous and capable seeker will be proven worthy of the Gnomon.”

“So, if you’re the gatekeeper then I have to get through you to proceed?”

“It is a smart one, yes it is. To open the door, we require a correct answer to a single question. If you answer incorrectly, we get to devour you… and we are so very hungry.”

“I hate spirits,” Tetsu muttered under his breath before giving his reply. “All right, ask your question.”

“Very well… but also understand, if you cannot answer you may choose to leave this place, never to return.”

“I told you to ask the damn question!”

The spirit giggled gleefully. “Very well, just remember that your fate is now on your own head. Tell us, oh wise one, what is the average number of hairs on a Yeddim’s back?”

Screwing his eyes shut for a moment, Tetsu shook his head. “That question’s PREPOSTEROUS! Even a scholar with a great depth of knowledge couldn’t answer that question!”

“Of course not!” the disembodied voice laughed. “And if we thought they could, we’d ask another impossible question. After all, we are so very hungry.”

“So the real first test is the ability to solve an impossible problem,” Tetsu mumbled to himself, trying to focus. Turning back to face the stature that seemed to be glaring down at him expectantly, the solar scowled back. “I’m thinking,” he told it firmly.

Moments later an idea struck him. Walking over to the door, he tapped the stonework with his knuckles, eyes narrowing speculatively.

“Well?” the voice asked impatiently. “Either give me an answer so that I can eat you or give up and go home there’s no point in…”

Pulling back his fist, Tetsu lashed out at the door with full force, breaking the foot thick block of stone into several large chunks, creating a man-sized hole to the next room. Brushing the dust off himself, he smiled as he stepped through to the first challenge while the voice protested lamely behind him, whining like a spoiled child. “You can’t do that! That’s cheating! Come on, come back here and answer the queeeestion…”

Ignoring the jibes, Tetsu surveyed the room of the second test. It wasn’t a pretty sight, the floor was composed of metal plates with stone pillars rising up through gaps to the ceiling. Steam was occasionally vented through holes in the plates, filling the room with stinging mist. Condensation dripped back down from high above only to sizzle on and evaporate once again on the floor. He heat in the room would have forced a less hardened man to turn back even as the steam seared Tetsu’s eyes and lungs. Across from the doorway was another door, this time rendered in metal just as hot to the touch as the plates on the floor. In front of it on a stone dais, however, was a lever. Unfortunately, the lever was also composed of bare steel but, to Tetsu’s devious mind, that didn’t matter since it was leaning in his direction.

Picking up one of the chunks of the doorway he’d broken down, Tetsu hefted it onto his shoulder and took careful aim before pitching it across the room. It took a second throw to get his hand in and a third to finally peg the level, flipping it and opening the door to the next chamber. Backing out of the room to get some space, he took a running jump over the burning metal, rolling across the stone dais and through the arch to the next test. The steam burned like the fires of Malfeas but Tetsu thanked the gods that the damage was comparably minimal compared to what he might have suffered traversing the test honestly.

The second room made Tetsu’s eyes bulge. In the centre of the simple stone chamber was a platform suspended by chains. The chains led through two loops in the ceiling to a giant, rectangular, block of iron that, if lowered, would block the archway to the next room. Counterbalancing the iron block on the platform was a pile of what appeared to be gold ingots arranged into a neat pyramid. On closer inspection, however, Tetsu rejected this obvious assessment. The lustre of the ingots was too bright, in fact they almost glowed with their own inner light, revealing their true nature as Orihalcum, one of the legendary celestial metals of near incalculable value.

The only part of the room more curious to Tetsu apart from the Orihalcum was that there was no door to the next room, just an open archway. As much as it pained him to leave such wealth behind, prudence needed to be satisfied, so he pulled himself away from the treasure to inspect the next room.

Compared to the previous room, the third was disappointing. Again a featureless stone room except for one object, a kneeling statue of a woman holding out her hands as if begging for alms. Unfortunately, there was a door beyond this statue again composed of thick metal just like the second door. Examining the statue, it only took him a moment to divine its purpose as he calculated that the outstretched hands would perfectly hold one of the Orihalcum ingots from the previous room.

“Oh no,” he told the statue seriously, “if you think you’re getting even one of those ingots…”

He trailed off as he considered the problem. Returning to the previous room, he confirmed his suspicions by removing a single ingot without effect then watching the counterweight slowly descend if he even so much as took some of the weight off the second, though it returned to the original position once he stopped. “Why didn’t you bring Feather you idiot?” Tetsu chastised himself. “Feather and Kano… I mean, seriously, who doesn’t bring friends to the scary deathtrap, honestly…”

Quickly eliminating the idea of tunnelling between areas due to time constraints, it took a while for Tetsu to work out his strategy. In fact, he only achieved his epiphany when he stopped looking for complex answers. Returning to the steam room, he retrieved the three stone blocks that he’d pitched at the lever and placed them on the platform with the ingots. Carefully removing each ingot so that he was sure the counterweight wouldn’t descend, not trusting that another trap wouldn’t trigger if it did, he threw them one at a time back out through the entrance. Having successfully stolen the loot, he returned to the statue, broke off its head and placed it in its hands, the weight causing the arms to descend slightly and the door beyond to open.

Stepping through, Tetsu found himself in a large room yet trapped inside a long, steel, cage that reached from the open doorway behind him to the closed doorway opposite. In the middle was another lever in the floor and outside of the cage there were valves in the floor and ceiling that gave Tetsu a chill down his spine, particularly since water was dripping from the ones overhead. Even before he grasped the lever, he knew what was about to happen but that didn’t make his situation any less terrifying as he pulled the switch.

Even knowing it was going to happen, Tetsu jumped when the door behind him snapped shut. When the valves overhead opened and water started gushing into the room, he also couldn’t help it when his heart began to race. Staring at the lever as the water level rose over his ankles, he wondered if pushing the lever back would empty the room or if that would just make the situation worse somehow. That thought led him to consider what would be worse than being trapped in a room slowly filling with water which his evil imagination quickly supplied. Unleashing a horde of man-eating fish small enough to get through the bars would, for example, be worse. That idea alone stayed his hand as he continued to take deep breaths for as long as he could.

Staying calm as the surface of the water crept up his legs was a battle. By contrast, when the water finally rose over the height of the cage, Tetsu found simply having to hold his breath fairly serene. At least until his lungs started to ache. The temptation to pull the lever again made his limbs ache as he clung to the cage to keep himself steady, part of him begging for release even if it would only be the peace of death while the other shouted that fatalistic part of himself down. Two things kept him from pulling the lever: his certainty that whoever built the trap wouldn’t want the new Oracle to die so ignominiously and the memory of Feather’s face before he’d left her mere hours ago.

This time, failure was not an option and there was no way to cheat. When spots started to swim before his eyes, Tetsu screwed them shut. When his hands started to feel numb, he let himself float in the water, keeping his mouth sealed firmly shut. Just when he thought he was about to pass out, he heard something click, the sound reverberating weirdly through the water. Opening his eyes, Tetsu saw both doors burst open, a cold current hitting him like a hammer blow in the chest as he was swept back out the way he’d come.

Buffeted against the edge of the archways, Tetsu felt joy at his first breath of air despite the pain as the water flung him between the legs of the four-armed statue into the natural cavern, coughing and sputtering as he rolled across the floor. The water level eventually forced him onto his knees, though it stopped when it reached a foot deep, warmed in the quenching of the steam-filled room.

“Looks like you failed then,” the voice taunted him, “such a pity.”

“I didn’t fail,” Tetsu growled, flopping onto his back.

“You don’t look like you have the Gnomon,” it observed mockingly.

“Four tests of virtue, that’s what you said. Eduring pain to reach your goals takes conviction, the ability to set wealth aside shows temperance and giving what little you have away is compassionate. On top of all that, I’d say standing in a room as it fills with water takes a great deal of valour, if I’d failed the test I’d be dead.”

“And at exactly what point did you set that wealth aside or give anything away?”

“Temperance and compassion is one thing, stupidity is another,” Tetsu answered. “Those traps were mechanical in nature, if amazingly simplistic. Besides, I saw behind the last door, there was nothing there but iron bars, just a duct for the water to gush through and push me back here, so don’t talk to me about failure or fairness, all those tests were nothing but a waste of time!”

“Maybe you’d like me to serve the Gnomon to you on a silver platter?” the voice asked archly.

“Go shove your head up your invisible ass,” Tetsu suggested, hauling himself back to his feet. The voice was mercifully silent as he retrieved the Orihalcium ingots and piled them up on a rock near the edge of the pool, ready for when he decide to leave. Turning over the tests in his mind as he worked, he tried to look for the angles.

Tetsu’s mouth twisted into a smile when he had his second epiphany of the day. Looking back up at the statue, his smile only broadened. “Four traps, four virtues, four arms of the statue. The spear for valour, the shield for temperance, the branch for compassion and the horn for conviction… in other words, in the order of the traps I just encountered: conviction, temperance, compassion and valour. Horn, shield, branch and spear!”

“It’s not going to work,” the voice answered half-heartedly even as Tetsu began to climb the statue’s legs and up onto the torso where he could easily reach all of the arms. He knew he had it right when the hand holding the horn twisted easily, clicking into place. Once all four had been switched in order, Tetsu was forced to hold onto the statue’s waist as the ground shook from a low rumble deep within the earth. After a moment, a perfect square of the rock floor at the base of the statue rose up, allowing the water to drain down into a pit that was already mostly flooded.

Tetsu groaned. “More water? Why did it have to be water?”

The head of the statue he was clinging to suddenly looked down on him and grinned evilly. “All the better to drown you in,” it answered in the same tone as the voice.

#

“What the hell was that?” Iselsi Mithras demanded in a panicked voice from his position on his belly with his hands over his head. Despite being their local guide, and apparently a skilled hunter, Mithras was the only dragonblood who hadn’t managed to retain his feet while the earth shook. Fortunately his horse prove to be of better stock, a little twitchy but remaining steady.

Delani put her hands on her hips indignantly as her men picked themselves up off the ground, her own horse as steady and nonchalant as she was. “An earthquake? Hathor?”

The Earth caste knelt and placed her hand on the rock underneath her feet. “I don’t think so, it didn’t feel right.”

“On your feet!” Agani ordered the soldiers behind them. “And see to your mounts. Any man who gets left behind can be food for the claw striders for all I give a damn!”

Scanning the forest around them, it was hard for Delani to see anything at all. The trees had claimed what little was left of the city, which in most cases was little more than the occasional stone block or wall riddles by vines and roots. Their party was large enough that the beasts of the wild hadn’t disturbed them yet, though Sarro was scouting ahead to guide them around any larger dangers that might hinder their mission.

“Ma’am,” Sarro greeted, suddenly appearing from the woods as if she’d materialized out of the air, almost as if Delani’s thoughts had summoned her. “I think I’ve found the source of your essence disturbance.”

Moving as one, Delani and Agani followed her immediately while Hathor paused to pick Mithras up off the ground and rally the troops, leading their horses over the rough terrain. Sarro only guided them for a few minutes before they spotted where she was taking them, thanks to the geyser of blue energy that was shooting into the sky.

The emanation of what was unmistakably water essence shot up from a low dome-shaped structure that had mostly caved in a few centuries before. Several trees has taken residence, though all had apparently shied away from the geyser as they’d grown. The essence itself was being ejected through a bowel of polished jadesteel that appeared to be unmarred by the passage of time despite being partly covered by the collapsed stonework.

“Now I wish we’d brought Misari along,” Hathor commented once she and the men had caught up. “What the heck is this thing?”

“An essence vent,” Agani answered, taking off her helm so she could scratch her chin. “When you cap a demesne with a manse, there’s often some bleed off of unwanted energy that you have to get rid of safely into the environment. Usually a vent wouldn’t geyser like this but I bet the collapse of the structure around it is blocking the proper redistribution of the essence. A disruption this powerful would certainly account for the problems with this area’s essence flows, not to mention the general lack of wildlife.”

“Mithras?” Delani asked, prompting the young wood caste.

Mithras shrugged. “I’ve never seen this before; usually we don’t range this far north, though it’s true we follow the game trails. Lack of good hunting never really encouraged us to explore this far, not that we get more than a few hours away from town much.”

“Too hard to leave the gentle caress of Sanejin’s whores, huh?” Hathor teased.

“That and I’m about the youngest dragonblood in town,” Mithras added. “The older men, particularly those of the Thousand Scales, prefer their soft cushions to a saddle.”

“Disgraceful,” Delani sneered, “but irrelevant. If this is an essence vent then where is the manse it belongs to?”

Agani shrugged. “It could almost be anywhere… but if I had to make an educated guess, this is water aspected essence and there’s a river just over that mountain.”

Frowning, Delani closed her eyes as she searched her memory. “If I remember the lay of the land correctly, we passed a small lake on our way south from Greyfalls over that peak.”

“A hidden manse?” Hathor mused. “If the entrance is underwater, that could explain why nobody’s ever discovered it, even with a bunch of exalted practically camping on its front door.”

“Mithras,” Delani addressed their guide, “is there a trail that will get us to the river?”

He nodded. “A little further south but we’ll be able to ride.”

“Perfect, you’re with Sarro,” Delani ordered, “we mount up as soon as we’re able, I’d love to get this over with before nightfall.”

#

Throwing himself onto his back, Tetsu watch the statue’s spear sweep inches away from his nose before whipping his whole body into the air to avoid the second downward strike of the shield arm and over another sweeping blow delivered by the horn arm. Darting between the golem’s legs, two quick strikes of his anvil-like fists shattered chunks of rock from it’s right shin before he was forced to dodge out of the way of a vicious kick.

Spinning the spear into an underhand grip, the golem raised the shield to interpose it between them as it struck down, the blade biting deep into the rock floor as Tetsu danced around it. Trying to strike back, the Eclipse caste’s blows rang the shield like a gong, leaving dents in the metal with each strike. The bulwark held, however, as the colossus forced slowly towards the wall, hemming Tetsu in.

Seeing an opportunity, Tetsu jumped straight at the shield, kicking off from to grab the haft of the spear. Heaving with all the might in his arms, he span around the pole and launched himself upward, planting both heels in the monster’s face. Even as the golem reeled, it managed to tag him with the branch as he fell, knocking the wind out of him. Momentarily stunned, the next sight Tetsu saw was an enormous stone foot descending to squash him like a bug.

Leaping to his feet, he felt the power of his essence thrumming though bone and muscle as he took the weight of the blow on his shoulder, reaching up to grasp the foot with both arms as he was driven to his knees. Screamin in rage, pain and exertion, the Eclipse forced himself to his feet before throwing off the colossus’ leg, forcing it to teeter on the lip of the pool precariously. Not one to give up any advantage, Tetsu charged, ramming his shoulder into the left shin and finally smashing it to pieces, toppling the giant.

It tried to cushion the fall by driving the spear into the ground behind it and was partially successful, though chunks of it were scattered across the cave as a large crack opened across its chest. Thrashing madly to keep the solar at bay, it tried to leaver itself upright with two hands on the spear. Tetsu took another blow from its remaining leg which would have shattered the bones of any mortal man. The solar accepted the strike, blocking it with his entire body and counterstriking with a back spin kick that severed the offending limb at the top of the thigh.

Raising the now solid, leg-shaped, pillar over his head, Tetsu growled at his enemy. “I don’t care if I have to tear you apart piece by piece!” Striking down with his makeshift weapon, the colossus tried to block the blow with his two left arms but both limbs shattered under the impact, the lower right arm also snapping off at the shoulder when the rest of the torso fell on it. Running up the broken leg now that it pinned the golem’s chest to the ground, it reacted far too late with its remaining arm to stop Tetsu from decapitating it with a flying kick to the chin.

Breathing hard as his enemy finally crumbled to so much rock, Tetsu waited to catch his breath before peering down the water-filled shaft he’d managed to open before being attacked. Taking more deep breaths, he girded himself and leapt into the water, swimming down through the water. The shaft turned west abruptly before turning back on itself again to open out into another, air-filled, level of the complex.

“All right,” Tetsu commented as he dragged himself out of the water, “this is not what I was expecting.”

He was standing on the edge of an enormous, egg-shaped, room. The curved walls were made out of a metal that looked to be either copper or brass to Tetsu’s untrained eye, perfect and untarnished. Waterfalls flowed down channels in the walls to a pool far below him between vaulted pillars that ran vertically from the base to the apex. Large glowing crystals drifted in orbit around a giant silver eye that floated in the middle of the room. Glass tubes siphoned water from the pool at the bottom, drawing it upward through the ceiling. Small fish of various bright colours could be seen swimming inside, either ascending or descending depending on the flow of water in the tube. Dotted throughout the chamber were circular platforms with self-contained gardens, some connected to the walls while others were raised from the floor or attached to the ceiling by long pillars.

Emerging from the pool onto a balcony halfway up the side of the room, Tetsu could hardly believe his eyes. The view alone was spectacular but the technological and architectural achievement before him outstripped even that consideration. The room itself was without doubt a far greater treasure than any he could have imagined. The former con artist’s only regret was that it couldn’t fit in a sack.

The solar almost jumped out of his skin when a miniature version of the giant eye floating overhead suddenly zipped up to face him from under the balcony. “GODS! Don’t do that!”

“Retrieving cache data,” the eye replied in a soft feminine voice, the iris flashing blue as it spoke. “Welcome… field zone null equals Supplicant. Congratulations, you have successfully completed the Fourfold Enlightenment Exam. Welcome to the Serene Oasis That Rests in the Eye.”

“Terrific,” Tetsu snapped, “look, can you tell me where the Gnomon is?”

“My sensors indicate that there is a sixty eight percent chance that you are feeling the emotion of anger. My database recommends deep breathing exercises and meditation to alleviate stress.”

“Will that help me get my hands on the Gnomon?”

“Negative.”

“Then you can deal with it.”

“Personality surly type equals true seventy five percent. If you would care to take repast in the gardens, I would be happy to summon a hoverdisc for your convenience.”

“Just get on with it!” Tetsu demanded. “I’m here for the Gnomon and I don’t have time to play games.”

“As you wish. Downloading security protocol thirteen. There is a one hundred percent probability that you are a useless sack of meat and bones, prepare to die.”

Barely dodging the blue beam that lashed out from the construct’s pupil, Tetsu felt the shot rend the hem of his robe as he darted out of its path. A right uppercut knocked it into the air, spinning out of control to smash against the wall, yet just as the solar was about to celebrate a swarm of five more swooped down from above. Throwing caution to the wind, he leapt from the balcony moments before their eyebeams scorched the entire platform.

Tetsu crashed through the upper limbs of a tree before he caught himself on one of the lower branches. The eyes didn’t lose him for long but it was enough delay that he was able to grab hold of a passing crystal by the tips of his fingers, allowing it to carry him off away from his pursuers. But they proved damnably tenacious, searing eye beams slashing long marks across the crystal as they flew after him.

Noticing another crystal approaching from the opposite direction, he hopped over to it, the sudden change in direction catching the eyes by surprise. Holding on as tightly as he could, Tetsu whipped his body out, catching two of the machines with a scissor kick before they even had time to react. Glancing around the crystal for a moment, he saw the remaining three mill about in confusion for a moment before splitting up, one pursuing his crystal while the other two flew in the opposite direction around the giant eye. Cursing, Tetsu made a promise to the gods that if he survived this, he’d find someone to teach him some sort of ranged attack.

Noting that the remaining eye was between him and the next crystal, which followed the one he was riding in a closer orbit fifteen feet away, the Eclipse girded himself for his next move. Backflipping up onto the top of the crystal, he jumped, landing with his left foot on top of the eye while he jammed his right toe into the iris, smashing it. Using his momentum, Tetsu leapt yet again onto the next crystal, barely managing to grasp the smooth surface.

The remaining eyes finally rounded the their indolent big brother but were confused when they discovered that Tetsu wasn’t where they expected. Grinning, he quietly unhooked his belt and whipped it out from around his waist, allowing the buckle to fall freely as he grasped the opposite end. The eyes remained still in mid air, allowing the unoccupied crystal to pass them by as their gaze followed it, making sure their quarry wasn’t simply hiding on the other side. Tetsu struck from behind as his crystal passed by, the furthest taken with a lash of his belt while a swift kick dealt with the other, their pieces falling into the pool far below.

Taking a breather on top of the crystal, Tetsu took the time to replace his belt as he considered the path across the field of floating crystals. Traversing the crystals to the giant eye was a hard road that stretched the limits of the Solar’s athletic ability. Several of the smooth crystals had to be scaled so that he could ascend to the same level as the pupil of the giant eye. It was pure guesswork but it turned out that he’d guessed correctly when he found that it was indeed an open portal to a secret inner chamber inside.

The inner chamber sat inside what appeared to be a hollow sapphire of enormous size. Rather than having been cut from the gem, the chamber appeared perfectly natural, millions of tiny facets glittering in the light. A pedestal simply grew from the centre of the floor, vaguely reminding Tetsu of the core of an apple cut in half. Finaly, atop the pedestal itself, was a golden disc with elegant, sweeping, organic lines carved into the surface and a single triangle extruding from the upper surface.

“All this trouble for a portable sundial,” Tetsu grumbled as he carefully stepped across the room, “you better do your job as advertised.”

Bracing himself for whatever might happen next, Tetsu took the Gnomon in both hands, clenched his teeth and pulled, lifting the artefact easily.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then another moment passed without the slightest noise or even hint of disaster.

When absolutely nothing happened by the minute mark, Tetsu allowed his muscles to unclench. “What? No poison gas? No killer golems? No rolling boulders, scything blades or word puzzles? You’re not even going to try to drown me again? Come on, where’s your spirit of adventure?”

The whole chamber suddenly moved, kicking Tetsu’s reflexes into action. Throwing himself to the floor as it lurched underneath him, he wrapped both arms around the pedestal with the Gnomon firmly in hand. “Damn it, me and my big mouth.”

As soon as it had started, however, the movement stopped. Glancing over his shoulder, Tetsu could see that they pupil of the eye was now aligned with the balcony he’d entered in. A strange bridge of blue energy arched across the empty space, inviting him to cross. Distrustful, Tetsu used his belt to make sure it was actually solid and safe to touch before setting foot on it. Finding it to be solid, his steps were slow and cautious as he crossed, not trusting that the ‘ground’ wouldn’t be pulled out from underneath him at any moment. Arriving safely on the balcony was more of a surprise than anything else that had happened to him all day.

Forcing himself not to question his good fortune, he made sure that the Gnomon was secured tightly in his belt before swimming back to the upper cavern. Finding his pile of Orihalcum ingots where he’d left them, he took off his robe and laid it out so that he could transfer the precious metal on top of it and wrap it up in a makeshift sack. Again making sure the Gnomon was secure in his belt, despite the fact that all he was wearing now was his underwear, Tetsu waded into the exit pool and began the arduous trek back to the open air.

Dragging the laden sack back into daylight would have been impossible for a man less accustomed to hard labour and pain. Finally, Tetsu emerged onto the sandbank, crawling as he thanked the Unconquered Sun from the bottom of his heart that he was still alive. The sun had passed its zenith but he was just happy to feel it on his face again and bathe in the holy radiance.

“Halt Anathema!” A familiar voice cried out from his right, which Tetsu noted would place the speaker between him and River’s Bend. “I know you now, scarred one!”

Turning his head, still on all fours in the sand, Tetsu smirked when he caught sight of Delani wearing full armour, looking so much more the hardened warrior than she did naked in the bath house. Not that she’d been soft exactly but somehow the woman had managed to hone her body to fighting perfection without sacrificing her figure. Reminiscences fled from his mind, however, when thirty or so archers stood up from their concealment in the bushes above the cliff face led by the Wood caste who also levelled her bow in his direction. Glancing upriver away from down, he saw that both the Earth and Fire caste dragonbloods blocked his escape by land. He was also willing to bet that if he made so much as a twitch in the direction of the river he’d be skewered full of arrows in his last heartbeat.

“Looks like your geomancy was useful for something after all,” Tetsu called back. “Have you seen a pair of boots around here?”

Agani held up his boots for him to see. “Looks like we have the same cobbler,” she commented, “I knew it had to be you, Anathema.”

Sighing, Tetsu shook his head. “Do you all really think finding the Oracle’s Trove is going to solve anything? Have any of you even bothered to stop and think about the people you dominate?”

“It is their duty, honour and destiny to serves us, vile one!” Hathor rebuked. “Don’t let this demon poison the air with his lies, General, let me kill him!”

“Before you die, Anathema, I would know your purpose here,” Delani explained herself, “tell me and we shall execute you mercifully.”

“Oh, that,” Tetsu chuckled, “I just popped into that death trap to retrieve the key to the Trove, of course. I could show you if you like, it’s right here bundled up in my robe. Just tell your goons to keep calm.”

“Nobody fires unless it’s on my order!” Delani shouted.

Nodding, Tetsu held his breath as he slowly climbed to his feet, making sure they could see his hands at all times. Lifting the makeshift sack one handed over his head, he let go so that the cloth unfurled as it fell to the ground as the ingots were scattered over the sand. Even dragonlords are still human, so the glint of gold in the sunlight caught every eye immediately. At the same time, Tetsu summoned his essence into his fist, concentrating it as he struck downward, punching the sandbar itself. Sand exploded into the air a moment before the sandbar collapsed. Water washed over the natural dam in a torrent as the soldiers shielded their eyes and Tetsu was sucked deep underwater and carried away by the current. Tumbling end over end, Tetsu cursed the loss of his ingots as he fought to right himself, searching the murky water for signs of the sunlight. Twisting around, he saw a shadow in the water a moment before it was upon him.

Delani grabbed his throat, moving fluidly underwater still in full armour as if she were one of the merfolk. Several swift kicks to his abdomen forced Tetsu to clamp one hand over his mouth to stop his breath from exploding out as he grapped with the warrior woman one armed. He had the advantage of strength but her preternatural freedom of movement allowed her to slip fro his grasp time and time again. Tetsu landed what would have been a telling blow on the side of her helmet that might have ended a fight on land yet hampered as he was by the weight of the liquid around him, it had hardly any affect at all.

He was seeing spots when Delani managed to wrap both hands around his throat, only his bulging muscles preventing her from crushing his windpipe. She also managed to wrap her legs around his chest to squeeze mercilessly, even as he tried to beat on her blue jadesteel breastplate. Nearly out of air, desperation only quickened his thoughts as it always did, that instinct to survive that had served him so well in the past kicking in.

Opening his fist, he grabbed the strap holding her breastplate on her shoulders and pulled her close, mashing his lips against hers. Shocked beyond recognition, Delani froze for a critical moment as her battle instincts failed her. Before her rage at his violation could kick in, Tetsu took a deep breath, sucking the air out of her lungs.

Kicking her away as she clutched her throat, pure venom in her gaze before her common sense kicked in and she swam for the surface, Tetsu resisted the urge to follow her and swam in the opposite direction for as long as he could before breaking the surface. When he finally emerged for air, he found himself well downstream of the lake and out of sight.

Sighing mournfully as he clambered ashore, Tetsu looked down at his mostly naked body to where the Gnomon still rested at his hip then up the tall mountain he’d have to climb in order to get back to the Temple. Shaking his head, he put all other concerns out of his mind and got to work.

#

Sputtering both from indignation and lack of breath, Cynis Delani cursed as she slid her elbow out of the river and onto the surface of the river. Evoking the gift of the water dragon, she hauled herself out of the river onto its rippling surface, treating the liquid as if it were completely solid. Taking a moment to collect herself, she ensured that she appeared calm even though her rage boiled in her veins as she walked steadily back to dry land where her soldiers were waiting for her.

“The beast fights like a demon,” she muttered to her sworn sisters as she approached, “he’s escaped downriver, probably halfway back to town already. Agani, take Sarro back to camp, I want the engineers back here before nightfall to set up an outpost. Relieve Misari and relay my orders that she’s to come here as well, we’re going to need her expertise… oh and you might as well take Mithras back with you.”

Nodding, Agani and Sarro ran off into the bushes to retrieve their horses obediently.

“Hathor, form a perimeter and wait for the reinforcements,” Delani ordered the Earth caste.

“Yes ma’am. May I ask what task you’re going to undertake?”

“Just a little scouting, my friend,” Delani answered, walking towards the lake. “Don’t worry; I’m not going to take any undue chances. I have an appointment with that Anathema; believe me I intend to keep it.”

One of the men shivered at her tone of voice. Hathor internally agreed with him but was glad that she hadn’t shown it.

#

The climb up the mountain left Tetsu even more bruised, battered and bleeding than he had been when he’d started as he limped towards the Temple entrance. He had cut his foot on a particularly sharp stone, leaving a cut that made every step even more painful than even the deep burn of exertion in his muscles. His ribs also hurt, though he didn’t think Delani had broken anything. When he saw Sanejin at the entrance looking concerned he couldn’t help but smile.

“Feather’s going to kill me when she sees this,” Tetsu commented to the god, putting a bold face on it. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you where I was going, believe me it was for the best.”

“Kano told me everything,” Sanejin replied, “but don’t hold it against him, I can be very persuasive. I take it you ran into trouble?”

“Someone seriously didn’t want the wrong person getting their hands on this thing,” Tetsu answered, patting the Gnomon. “As far as I can tell, it doesn’t do a blind thing but you don’t build a trap like that just for no reason… wait, scratch that, you’d have to be insane to build a trap like that for no reason. Not to mention I had four dragonbloods waiting for me when I got out of the place, so at least we know their strategy has some merit to it.”

“You don’t think I told them where you were?” Sanejin asked with some surprise.

“No, you’re in the clear on that score,” Tetsu answered, stumbling on as the god fell in beside him, “after all, I didn’t tell you where I was going when I left and the dragonbloods were travelworn. They’d left too early in the morning for you to have warned them, so you’re in the clear; I’ve been thinking that one over all the way back here. No, they were tracking a real lead, ergo their devices are working.”

Sanejin breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m glad to have earned some trust from you, Tetsu… I’m sorry but I’m positively going to burst if I don’t ask you this question, is that really the Gnomon?”

“I told you, I tried to make it work but it doesn’t do anything. It could be the Gnomon or some kind of fake.”

“Even so, I think it’s time that we put our partnership to the test, Tetsu,” the god pressed, holding out his hand.

Pausing mid stride, Tetsu turned to face the god slowly, taking a step back to put him at arm’s length. “I don’t think this is the right time…”

“Nonsense, this is the best time,” Sanejin interrupted. “We need to find out if we can trust each other. If you really don’t lust for power, Tetsu, prove it to me and hand over the Gnomon. Allow me to prove myself to you, please.”

Indecision gnawed at Tetsu’s gut. His usual instincts were useless; Sanejin seemed so sincere about protecting the Trove, though ruthless in his execution. With such power in his own hand now, however, the Solar began to wonder if he would do any less. Tetsu knew how far he could go to meet his goals, he’d killed before for the things he cared about and he would do it again. How much further would he go now that the stakes were so high?

Making his decision, he placed the Gnomon in Sanejin’s hand.

Something wrenched suddenly inside Tetsu, not a physical pain but somehow more ephemeral yet no less disturbing. Gasping, the sensation drove Tetsu to his knees as the world seemed to dim, the sunlight not quite as bright for a moment despite the absence of clouds. Looking up, the Solar found Sanejin grinning down at him, hefting the Gnomon in his fist.

“You son of a….” Tetsu groaned, unable to finish the insult.

“Good evening, my friend,” Sanejin answered before slamming the flat side of the Gnomon across Tetsu’s head, knocking him out cold.

#

“Who is it?” Edge called out courteously in her old man voice in answer to the knock on the door. “Please pardon the slowness of these old legs, master, I’ll get the door don’t you worry!”

Waiting a good amount of time before opening the door, Edge bowed profusely to the hooded traveller on her doorstep. “Please, come in! Come in! May I get you anything young man, Sake to wet your lips? A bed for the night and maybe a girl along with it?”

“Sake,” the stranger answered shortly, scanning the room as he entered, shutting the screen door behind him. “Do you have a peddler staying here with you, old man?”

Edge gave him a suspicious pause before answering while she gathered the special Sake she’d poisoned earlier. “What? No, sorry master, no peddlers here.”

“Strange,” the stranger shrugged, sitting down in the corner, “I was told I could meet my friend here.”

“Well, perhaps he hasn’t arrived yet,” Edge suggested as she placed the tray down on the table in front of him. “Here you are, please drink an enjoy!”

He watched Edge shuffle back to the kitchen without touching his bowl. “You have a tidy place here, old man. What might you be called?”

“I would be the humble Menji, young master,” Edge answered with a bow in his direction, “but please don’t trouble yourself with me, I’m of no consequence.”

“That’s interesting,” he said quietly, “my friend told me that he was going to wait here for me in his last message. He also told me that innkeeper Menji was a garrulous curmudgeon that hurled insults at everyone who so much as crossed his path.”

There was a moment of complete stillness as the two cool-headed warriors quickly assessed the situation. Each considered their relative positions, the space between them, their environment and the obstacles that might get in their way. Most important was the army practically camped on their doorstep who wouldn’t take kindly to the ringing of steel on steel.

Silent as an evening breeze, Edge pulled off her disguise in a twirl of cloth that blocked his line of sight as she threw her poison needles at his face. He drew in an instant, his flashing blade perfectly bisecting the table, the bottle of Sake and all four of her needles, his blade whispering like a straight razor through soft hair.

Edge felt her heart miss a beat as he disappeared from her view and suddenly reappeared right in front of her, so fast that even her highly trained awareness couldn’t track his movements. She barely managed to block the first stroke of his sword with her bare handed techniques and was forced back onto one foot when he lashed out with a low kick, taking the blow on her thigh. The sudden change of grip on his blade brought him out of her control, the shock of being so badly outmatched freezing her for a crucial moment as he punched her precisely in the solar plexus.

Knocked over, Edge cried out when she hit the corner of the kitchen bench, the tip of the stranger’s sword at her throat the moment she landed on the floor. “Sidereal,” the stranger growled, “I remember your kind.”

The stranger suddenly drew a golden Daiklave out of thin air just as Focused Rage landed in the main room, also simply appearing as if he’d dropped through the roof like a ghost. The Chosen of Mars took a step back in surprise when he found the tip pointing at his chest, drawing his own blue starmetal blade from Elsewhere reflexively. “Edge?” Rage asked softly, just loud enough for her to hear.

“Still alive,” Edge called softly back.

“You can tell your friend at the window to come in,” the stranger announced, “she might catch her death in that outfit.”

Feather gently opened the window and slipped inside, scowling. “Well, aren’t you clever.”

“Better to tell your friend on the floor that I can cut off the impulse to strike me before it reaches the base of her neck,” the stranger threatened.

“Edge,” Rage called out, “don’t be stupid.”

“Pot, kettle, black,” Edge muttered darkly.

“If you want to hunt Solars, you need to work on your close combat skills,” the stranger criticised, “you may know your charms but you lack basic understanding.”

“You’re being unfair,” Rage countered, “not every warrior can focus on skills directly related to battle. Edge’s talents like in other arenas.”

“I see, I guess Sidereals are not so different to us then,” the stranger nodded, “but I take it that you would be your kind’s equivalent of the Dawn caste?”

“I am Focused Rage, Chosen of Mars, Maiden of Battles,” Rage introduced himself with a sight incline of his head. “I am also a master of Scarlet Patterned Battlefield Style amongst many others.”

“Focused Rage,” the stranger repeated with a slight smile, “that’s catchy. How do you propose to solve our current dilemma, Focused Rage?”

“A duel,” Rage answered immediately. “Just the two of us, one on one, if my friends interfere and survive, I swear I’ll kill them myself.”

“Uh, Rage?” Feather asked, slightly scared at her friend’s tone of voice.

The stranger grinned. “That’s insane! I like you, Focused Rage. My name is Ogren Gunner, Dawn Caste Solar and Chosen of the Unconquered Sun. I accept the terms of our duel; do you wish to name a place and time?”

“Right now,” Rage answered.

The stranger had to stifle a laugh. “You want to fight in the middle of an armed encampment?”

“I find the novelty of the idea stimulating,” Rage replied. “After all, how often does one find an obstacle that will require more than a moment’s forethought?”

“Indeed,” Ogren answered eagerly.

“And you think breasts make people crazy,” Feather muttered.

“Feather, take Edge out the back to safety,” Rage ordered, “remember my word, if either of you interfere I’m sworn to kill you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Feather said with a scowl, “as long as Ogren agrees to give us safe passage.”

Nodding, Ogren slid his sword back into it’s sheathe but kept his daiklave level. Wrapping her arms around Edge’s shoulders, Feather dragged her out the back door, leaving the boys as they faced off. Both warriors observed the rules of etiquette, lowering their blades to bow to their opponent, never lowering their eyes even for a moment. Calmly, each ran their bodies through a quick kata to loosen their muscles before facing each other in earnest. Ogren took a strong defensive stance as he sized up his opponent, legs spread with knees bent as he held the sword horizontally in both hands, the tip pointed at Rage. In answer, Rage took a step back with his own blade held diagonally so that the tip touched the floor behind him, conscious of both presenting the smallest possible target to his opponent’s possible thrust and the restrictions of the confined space on their oversized swords.

Ogren didn’t have any such qualms about destroying the house. His first blow whipped the blade back as he stepped forward, the edge cleaving through the floor as it swept upward in a full circle at Rage. The Sidereal turned the blade aside with his own short, sharp, strike, though it forced him to take a step backward. The Solar’s blow was so powerful that it cleaved through the roof, blowing wooden beams and tiles outwards over the surrounding streets. A second step forward saw Ogren take hold of the hilt of his daiklave in both hands to reverse the first attack into an overhead strike.

Forced to take the end of his daiklave in his opposite hands so that he could take the blow on the flat of the blade holding it over his head, Rage span to the left, turning the blade aside yet again as he unleashed a back spin kick that Ogren took on the shoulder with an amused grunt. Spinning back the other way, their blades crossed yet again sparks flying as metal scraped across metal, locked together in a test of strength. Glaring at each other intensely for a moment as both fighters gauged their opponent; it was Rage who finally broke away, skipping back out of reach.

Pressing the attack with a flurry of measured thrusts delivered at arm’s length, Ogren slowly continued to drive Rage backwards. Only the Sidereal’s brilliant control of his blade and quick reflexes saved him from a telling blow as he dodged and parried the blindingly fast series of blows, though even he was hard pressed to counter. Slashing upwards, Rage neatly sliced part of the damaged ceiling away, causing it to fall between them before jumping through the hole onto the roof. Rather than following him, Ogren began demolishing what remained of the house, piece by piece.

Realizing the futility of his ploy, Rage retreated, skipping up the cliff face behind the house that separated High Town from Low Town. Thrusting his daiklave into the rock, he stood on the hilt as he surveyed the damage below, noting the soldiers moving like ants in the surrounding streets, hemming them in. Undoing the buttons on his buff jacket, Rage discarded his armour as he channelled his peripheral essence. His caste mark flashed to life on his forehead as he cleared his mind, focusing on his body, his training and defeating the opponent.

Ogren charged through the back wall, shouldering it aside as if the barrier was meaningless to him. Running with blinding speed, the cliff face hardly gave him pause as he ran up the vertical surface, golden daiklave flashing in the sunlight. Breathing deeply, Rage gathered his essence into the air before his palms, weaving fate itself into his next blow before striking downwards, unleashing a near invisible bolt of force from his palm.

Smashed from the air, Ogren fought to control his descent as he was hurled into the ground far below, his impact causing the ground to shake. Rocks fell from the cliff face above as the Solar rose from the crater just in time to parry Rage’s blade as the Sidereal dropped down on him from above. “My turn,” Ogren growled, the sign of the Dawn caste blazing to life on his brow. Backflipping in place, the Solar’s heel hammered Rage high into the air. Disappearing and reappearing beside Rage in the air with a burst of golden light, Ogren’s daiklave struck like a thunderbolt.

Creation suddenly seemed to stretch around them as Ogren struck, Rage’s daiklave leaving a trail of scarlet essence as space itself warped to pulling out of the way of Ogren’s strike. Using the false momentum to kick off from the cliff face, Rage struck back, trading blows with the Solar as they both fell, the momentum of his blows carrying them both over Menji’s house. They landed easily on their feet despite the height of the fall, scattering the gaping soldiers in the street.

Snarling, Ogren slapped Rage into a wall with the flat of his blade, the Sidereal grimacing as his back took a hard impact, his body leaving a dent in the wall. But the Solar wasn’t finished, his caste mark flashing as a bolt of golden lightning arced from his blade. Rage acted by reflex, his whole body beginning to glow with scarlet energy that rippled like heat waves off of hot coals, his blade leaving the same trail of crimson as before as Creation seemed to stretch, sliding him to one side. The bolt of energy sliced straight through the building behind it and the one after that, leaving a line of destruction in its wake as the structures collapsed in on themelves.

Throwing his daiklave high into the air, Rage stepped between Fate, fading from view only to reappear on the roof of the building behind Ogren. Summoning his essence again, the Sidereal projected it from his palm with the same move he’d used to knock Ogren off the cliff. Unfortunately, Ogren wasn’t a slow learner, leaping to one side, the misaimed blow throwing a score of soldiers twenty feet down the road. Berating himself for his sloppy aim, Rage deftly caught his daiklave and calmly waited, casually knocking aside several arrows that were loosed his way by the audience.

Several of the mortal soldiers were also foolish enough to charge Ogren in the sudden lull. Gracing the first two idiots with a few missing limbs, he rammed his point home by grabbing the third and bodily hurling him at Rage, who neatly cleaved the soldier in half to prevent him from blocking Rage’s view of his opponent. Screaming with anger and frustration, the earth trembled under Ogren’s feet as his body glowed with bright essence that faded through yellow to a red tinge on the outside. The image of a skull surrounded by a halo of burning blades unfolded from his back, the blades swirling around him, tinged with the same bright essence stained with red.

Charging, Ogren held his blade with both hands as it crackled with his barely restrained energy. Rage set himself to accept the charge, calling on his own essence to aid him in the perfect counterstrike, smiling. Then, just as Ogren leapt into the air, he seemed to split into a hundred shadows of himself, striking from all directions. Rage hesitated for an instant, unable tell which image was real until the last moment. Ogren’s blade skipped from the edge of Rage’s, turning aside the fatal blow but not completely. Burning pain ripped through Rage as the tip of the golden daiklave sliced a long wound from his left hip right up to his right shoulder, blood spurting across his opponent. Trained reflexes asserted themselves as Rage flicked his own blade, slicing Ogren across the face, barely missing the Dawn caste’s right eye.

Both combatants rolled across the roof to avoid becoming entangled, springing onto their feet gracefully despite their injuries. Rage could feel the blood seeping from his wound, though Ogren had to keep one eye closed to prevent his own blood from seeping into it. Circling each other, stepping perfectly despite the incline of the slippery tiles, the warriors analysed each other for any weakness that could be exploited.

They paused when the earth started to shake again, the tiles of the roof clattering as each jolt shook the surrounding buildings to their foundations. Sparing a momentary glance over the rooftops, both combatants saw the gigantic machine that rose to its feet in the town square, clutching an enormous spear that dwarfed even their own oversized swords. Eighteen feet tall, the giant mechanical suit of white jadesteel armour was immediately recognizable to both Rage and Ogren as a warstrider, a rare warmachine still employed only by the Realm and Lookshy since the Usurpation.

“HALT ANATHEMA!” the warstrider ordered in an authoritative feminine voice, pointing at them with its free hand.

Ogren and Rage looked at each other. “Maybe we should postpone this for a more private venue,” Rage offered. “I was just about to suggest that,” Ogren replied, nodding. Breaking off, they both turned and ran in opposite directions.

“NO YOU DON’T!” the warstrider shouted indignantly, leaping forward to tear the buildings out from underneath them with a single horizontal swing of its spear.

Skipping across the airborne debris, Ogren span in the air and drew a set of throwing knives from under his cloak. The warstrider was glancing between them indecisively and he considered targeting several weak spots in the joints of the warmachine until he spied Rage hopping up the cliff face like a frog. “Happy landing,” the solar whispered as he cast the blades at his enemy.

Rage never saw them coming. The impact of all five blades in his back punched him against the rock wall, blood spurting from his mouth as he fell. He felt the rush of wind as the world darkened, his anima banner making him appear to be a falling star.

“Rage!” Edge called, spinning as she leapt from below to grab his limp form, arresting his fall as she landed on her feet with the Chosen of Battles in her arms.

Seeing Ogren run off the warstrider turned to face them as Edge tended to Rage’s wounds. “DIE, UNHOLY BEASTS!” it cursed, raising the spear over its head.

Landing between them, Feather drew the string back on her bow and launched an arrow at the warstrider’s chest. In flight, the arrow expanded and hardened into a giant boulder that slammed into the contraption’s breastplate, nearly knocking it over. The soldiers around it broke into a run as Feather unleashed more arrows and the skies around practically began raining boulders.

“Edge! We have to move him!” Feather shouted over her shoulder as she kept the enemy at bay, though even the boulders were hardly scratching the warstrider’s enamel. Nodding absently, Edge calmly finished staunching Rage’s wounds before whipping a prayer strip out from the sleeve of her robe, infusing it with her violet essence before wrapping it around her neck like a scarf. Picking her lover up, her form blurred as she ran into the bushes.

“VILE DOGS,” the warstrider cursed Feather as it battered more boulders aside. “REMEMBER THE NAME OF ODYNE MISARI AND HER WARSTRIDER, THE UNDEFEATABLE BLOSSOM OF MERCY AS YOU FLEE FROM US!”

Unruffled, Feather selected a different arrow from her quiver and fired it at the ground under the warstrider’s feet. Instead of turning into a boulder, the ground collapsed underneath it, the warmachine falling up to its chest as it grasped the ground around it for purchase.

“I WILL KILL YOU!” Odyne called at Feather’s back. “I SWEAR BY ALL UNDER HEAVEN THAT YOU’LL PAY FOR EVERY SCRATCH ON MY UNDEFEATALE BLOSSOM IN BLOOD!”

#

A sudden, sharp, stench made Tetsu flinch awake. As his eyes fluttered open, he took in the room around him slowly as his vision cleared. He recognized the circular hall where he’d first encountered Sanejin, just below the god’s throne room. The room had several doors and passageways leading away from it on two levels, though the balcony above only reached around half of the chamber before descending to the lower floor. He found himself inside a silver cage suspended over the altar-bowel in the centre of the room, though the bowl itself was now filled with water. Cloaked figures surrounded him wearing white and gold robes with golden masks. Sanejin alone stood out, not wearing a mask at all despite his similar yet more grand robe that included giant gold shoulderpads.

“Good to have you back with us, Tetsu,” Sanejin said as he pulled the small vial of alchemical stench away from the solar, “believe me; I do sincerely apologize for the inconvenience.”

“So it was all a lie?” Tetsu asked, still groggy. “You’ve really been looking for this Trove for over a thousand years?”

“Do I look like I have an army?” Sanejin chuckled, gesturing at the figures around him. “My girls are a great fuck but I’d hardly call them combat ready. No, Tetsu, I’m not actively looking for the Trove, though I know people who have offered me a lot for the discovery of its location. I’m happy to let the Trove slip through my fingers for a far greater prize: power. That’s what you are, my friend, raw power. When the Sidereals quailed before your hubris, they unwittingly dispensed that power to anyone with the strength of will to tame it. Now that you’ve returned, they want you under their yoke or destroyed… but the reality is that they’re far too late to this party.”

“What are you babbling about?” Tetsu snarled, pulling himself to his feet.

“You have no understanding,” Sanejin muttered, “I feel like I am explaining the world to a child who has just learnt to take its first steps. Of course, this is only natural, you need to be tutored, trained and… broken, I think is the term slavers used, but that sounds so vulgar. Tamed might be a better word. Returned Solars like you need guidance and a firm hand, you need to be controlled for the good of Creation.”

Grabbing the bars, Tetsu tried to bend them but even with all his strength they wouldn’t budge. “I will NEVER be a slave to ANYONE, Sanejin!”

“I know,” Sanejin replied fondly. “I’m not looking for another whore; you’re so much more valuable than that. You are graced with the blessing of the Unconquered Sun, treating you like common chattel would be disrespectful, which is why I’m going to take you as my bride.”

Tetsu felt the blood drain from his face as the full import of the mad god’s words sunk in. “And how are you planning on making me drink the water? If this was your plan all along, why not just spike my drink as you suggested before?”

“Again you think too small. The water would do the job but the change isn’t malleable or controllable, not to mention that a Solar might be able to resist the effect with the right charms. I’ve used the time I’ve been waiting for one such as you to design a perfect body to match the perfect soul and with the curse of breaking your oath on you there’s no way my plan can fail. Believe me; working out the details has been torturous. Besides, I knew who you really were the moment I discovered that you were an Eclipse caste. You’ve been dreaming about me, haven’t you, Tetsu? Dreams of the past…”

“NO!” Tetsu denied, reaching through the bars to try and strangle the god even though he was well out of reach. “I can see through your lies now! You put those dreams in my head somehow!”

Sanejin sighed. “Oh well, it was worth a try. I admit, I was trying to keep you off balance and distracted, at least that part worked. The hearthstone of this manse does indeed allow me to manipulate people’s dreams… but you can’t tell me that those dreams weren’t pleasant, I certainly enjoyed them.”

“I will see you regret this, Sanejin,” Tetsu threatened in a deadly calm voice, his rage transcending mere anger.

“Still feisty as ever?” Sanejin snarled. “Red Wolf, bring in Kano.”

The lower doors burst open at Sanejin’s command as Kano was forced through them by a gorgeous athletic redhead wearing the same robes as the others. The former prostitute was tied up but not gagged, though he wasn’t saying much other than pained shouts and growls as he struggled. Taking the mortal in hand, Sanejin struck his head on the side of the altar, knocking him senseless.

“Get your hands off him!” Tetsu demanded, trying to reach through the bars again.

“Why? This pathetic sack of meat is useless to me,” Sanejin shrugged. “At least as he is now…”

“I’m warning you,” Tetsu stated flatly, “don’t.”

Smiling in response, Sanejin shoved Kano’s face under the water and held it there as he kicked and struggled not to drink or breathe. Tetsu watched in horror as Kano’s shoulders started to shrink, the boy’s screams reverberating through the pool as he was remade. The bindings fell away as his body thinned but his struggles got weaker and weaker as he was deprived of air. Pulling the new girl from the water like a half-drowned kitten, Sanejin flung her limp body aside with contemptuous ease, leaving her crumpled on the floor breathing but unconscious.

“Kano! Kano! Gods, I’m so sorry!” Tetsu called out, struggling with the bars again with the same futile results.

“Don’t worry about this ‘Feather’ of yours,” Sanejin smiled, “I’ll assign her as one of your handmaidens along with Kano and Red Wolf here.”

Red Wolf pressed her body against Sanejin as the god embraced her, sliding her hand in wonder over the god’s muscular chest. “I know how you feel, I fought it too,” she sighed contentedly, “but I was wrong to fight it. Gods, Tetsu, you don’t know what it’s like being loved by Sanejin, how he can make this body feel…” She shuddered when he suddenly kissed her, several of the onlookers also moaning quietly in need as they stared. When he was finished, she just clung to him, panting heavily.

They were interrupted when a scantily clad girl crept in from one of the doors. “Sorry for the interruption, Sanejin, but the dragonbloods have returned from the hunt and they’re ordering women…”

“Now of all times,” Sanejin growled. “Fortunately, I won’t have to suffer them by morning. Serve them the water along with the sleeping draught, make sure the kitchen knows to use the proportions as I’ve instructed, they’ll know what that means.”

Nodding curtly, the girl ran out.

“It seems that I might be coming into an army of my own after all,” Sanejin mused as he stroked Red Wolf’s hair. “Shame, the deal has already been made. Girls, it’s time.”

Five of the girls stepped forward, slipping the masks off their faces. Each was staring blankly at Tetsu but the Solar recognized them all. “You remember my daughters, don’t you?” Sanejin asked teasingly. “Maera, born of my wife from the north; Tyria, east; Israfi, south; Pudanu, west and Bovina, centre. Five elemental poles represented in the circle, though just their sacrifice wouldn’t be enough. No, what I need is a link between us of blood…”

The daughters stepped up onto the rim of the altar, still staring blankly even as they disrobed. Each stood naked around Tetsu, except for a slender belt that hung loosely around their hips. He couldn’t help but notice that each of their stomachs were slightly fuller than when he’d seen them last, all of them in the first stages of pregnancy.

“That’s… this is…” Tetsu stuttered, holding onto the bars for support, unable to fathom the depths of depravity that were unfolding around him even as Sanejin’s daughters drew the daggers from their sheathes. “THIS IS MONSTROUS!” Tetsu declared, howling his condemnation to the sky. “INCARNAE! IF YOU’RE THERE PLEASE STOP THIS NOW!”

“Sorry, they’re not listening,” Sanejin mocked, “they’re all too busy playing their games.”

“Maeria, Israfi… one of you, please STOP!” Tetsu begged, though the girls didn’t seem to hear. He tried to reach for Maeria but had to pull back when she tried to slash his hand with her dagger, still staring blankly.

Tetsu shut his eyes before the plunged their daggers into their stomachs. Falling to their knees, they screamed in pain even as they wrenched the blades inside themselves, blood seeping into the water as it started to swirl and bubble. Staring down, Tetsu watched as the bottom faded away, leaving him hovering over a dark, watery, pit.

“See you soon, my love,” Sanejin teased. “Drop him.”

The cage fell with Tetsu still inside it as one of the girls pulled the lever that was holding it aloft, splashing water over the edge of the bowel across the floor as it began to sink. Tetsu cursed as he climbed the bars but there was no escape. Sanejin waved goodbye to him as he glared back, taking a deep breath before the bloody water flowed over his head.

Grappling with the bars, Tetsu found the lock and tried to force the door open, bracing himself on the bars opposite to kick at it with both feet. The eerie clang of the metal underwater made his skin crawl and his lungs and muscles ached for lack of air but desperation clawed at his sanity, instinct driving him to persist. When the lock finally surrendered, Tetsu was already tired and every cell in his body was screaming in agony but he pushed himself to swim through the door and pull himself upward.

Looking up, his vision was blurry with dark spots swimming before him but somehow there was nothing but a pinpoint of light far, far above. Even as he tried to climb the chain attached to the cage, he watched as the tunnel stretched itself even longer with every link he ascended. Finally, his fingers refused to work anymore and the chain slipped out of his hands.

He felt himself sink, the cage sliding past as it dissolved into nothingness, melting like butter in a hot pan. At the same time, the pinprick of light overhead seemed to expand until everything around him was consumed by a fuzzy grey nothingness. Tetsu could feel the will to hold his breath ebbing, instinct fighting to take over. Finally, it did.

Opening his mouth, to take a deep breath, Tetsu unexpectedly sucked in a lungful of air. Pure, fresh, air that smelt like pine trees and freshly baked bread. Moving his arms, he realized that he was floating and yet nothing resisted his movements like water would. Unfortunately, by the same token, he was also unable to really move because, though he could flail his limbs, they had nothing to take purchase on.

That changed when he landed on something soft. He felt the smooth, silky, texture of what he’d alighted on with his hands before turning over to look at it, gravity suddenly asserting itself. The surface he’d landed on was soft, smooth and bouncy like a mattress or cushion, dark as night and criss-crossed with swirling lines and little wrinkles. Around the platform were clouds that obscured vision, though when he dipped his hand over the edge he definitely could reach the ground if there even was one.

As he was staring out over the clouds, Tetsu saw something flicker on the horizon. Squinting as it came closer, he was eventually able to make out the form of a beautiful young woman with pitch black skin wearing a loincloth of diaphanous silver with matching streamers tied to her wrists. Her clothes trailed behind her as she danced across the clouds, picking her way nimbly on the tips of her toes as if the vapour were solid ground.

Backing away as she approached, Tetsu balled up his fists as she circled him. “What manner of creature are you?” He demanded. “Spirit? Fair Folk? Elemental?”

“Which would you prefer, Tetsu?” She asked enigmatically, not breaking a step.

“I couldn’t care less if you can get me out of this place.”

“The door is open, you have but to step through,” she answered.

“Great,” he sighed, rolling his eyes, as he turned in place trying to keep her in his sight. “So where’s the door?”

“Where you think it is,” she answered again, reaching out to fondly stroke his chin for a moment before pulling away. “But where do you think we are?”

He put his hands on his hips. “No idea… the wyld maybe...”

“In Creation there are lines, all lines are boarders, all boarders divide,” she whispered darkly, “people, places, things real and imagined are all separated by boarders. Those who cross boarders are truly blessed for they are able to step outside of themselves and explore the limits of the impossible.”

Shaking his head, Tetsu snorted. “That doesn’t make any sense, who are you?”

“I am known as Dancer On The Threshold.”

“Ok,” Tetsu sighed, forcing his impatience down. “Dancer, can you stop dancing for just one minute so I can talk to you without getting dizzy?”

“Not yet.”

“All right, then tell me how I can get out of here.”

“Even if you return to the place you once were, there is no going back,” she said, “only another step in your journey.”

“This is insane,” Tetsu muttered, “we’re in the Wyld aren’t we? The place Sanejin told me about where the Raksha could escape creation. Is this place even real?”

Reaching in again, Dancer answered him with a long gash across his forearm instead of a gentle caress. “Gods damn it!” Tetsu swore, grabbing the cut to stop the bleeding.

“Everywhere is real,” she said, “even if it’s only in your head.”

Staring at her, Tetsu likened her circling to the approach of a shark or vulture. “Are you here to torment me? Devour me?”

“Love you and hate you like a mother to her child,” she whispered. “I’ve watched you, Tetsu, for a long, long time. He got to you first, so I hate you in your glorious perfection… but I still love you as if you were my own child. You are blessed in your Calibration far more than you know and I will still have you.”

“I don’t understand a word you’re saying,” Tetsu shouted at her, “you must be a Raksha… or simply mad.”

“You know yourself that the madman is the king of the asylum,” she laughed, finally twirling to a halt. “You’re no stranger to chaos, Tetsu, you’ve dipped into that well to survive before. Let me share my madness with you, just a taste…”

She held out her hand to him palm facing upward. For a moment he thought she meant him to take it but then he saw that there was something in her hand. Leaning forward, he could make out two figures looking at each other on her palm, one a dark-skinned girl scantily clad in silver, the other…

His eyes widened when he recognized the scarred face, watching is own eyes widen as the realization that he was staring down at himself resting on the palm of the hand of the girl he was talking to. Tetsu felt his preconceptions slip away as his sanity was strained to the limit, absolutely nothing making any sense anymore.

The ground suddenly lurched as she lifted her hand up towards her mouth. Tetsu screamed when he saw Dancer’s giant face loom out of nowhere as the greyness parted like a veil of mist, her mouth gaping wide. With nothing to cling to, he slid down the heel of her palm and into her open maw, tumbling into darkness.

Dancer On The Threshold swallowed, smiling beatifically as she caressed her tummy. “Don’t worry, little Tsukiko,” she whispered it began to expand, her new child kicking as it grew within her, “mother will make it all better.”

#

“What is taking so long?” Sanejin fretted impatiently as he paced. They’d raised the chain only to find the cage gone, nothing but a solid piece of melted metal remaining at the end of the chain. The god was starting to get genuinely worried when bubbles suddenly broke the surface, followed by a slender, long-fingered hand.

The girl who pulled herself from the pool through the blood and corpses wasn’t exactly what Sanejin was expecting but he couldn’t help but appreciate her. Her skin tone sat between the golden tan of the eastern people and the dark shade of the south, contrasting with her bright silvery-white hair that trailed behind her in long waves. She had a youthful face with a mischievously knowing cast, as if she knew everything a woman of her age isn’t supposed to and gloried in the fact. Her large almond eyes seemed to change colour as she looked up from the floor at the god, shifting from deep blue to a hot purple as she bit her full lower lip.

When she fully emerged, it became clear that she wasn’t the usual product of the Water of Eternal Perfection, her beauty transcended mortal limits, even approaching Sanejin’s own perfection of form. Long limbed and tall, she was also lithe and athletic without sacrificing womanly curves. Rising with fluid grace, she glided forward gracefully as her large breasts heaved, staring at Sanejin with wide, unbelieving, eyes.

Smiling, Sanejin opened his arms to welcome her, wanting her body like no other woman in all his days. She pressed her body against his as their lips met and she gently parted her lips as his tongue slipped into her mouth. His hands roamed as she slid hers down his pants, finding his member and lovingly stroking the length.

“I want you,” she whispered into his ear as he kissed his way down her neck. “I want you dead.”

He stiffened when she grasped the base of his genitals, digging her sharp nails into his soft flesh. Sanejin tried to push her away but she was immovable, like her feet had joined with the rock floor underneath and her muscles interwoven with steel strands. Her visage was nothing but pitiless hatred as she twisted, tearing away the lump of flesh between his legs and casting it aside as he screamed in torment.

“Gods don’t bleed,” she observed as Sanejin fell into a heap on the ground, writhing in agony as his flesh warped and twisted. Scanning the crowd of girls around her who were staring in abject horror, she snarled. “Get away from me!”

“Tetsu?” Red Wolf asked tentatively, taking a step towards her from behind.

It was a mistake. Lashing out, Tetsu’s hand sliced neatly through the flesh and bone of Red Wolf’s neck, severing her head in a spurt of blood that spattered everything around it. “I SAID GET AWAY!” Tetsu cried out in a mixture of hatred and fear, her eyes wild. “GET AWAY FROM ME! YOU’RE ALL OUT TO GET ME! I SAID GET AWAY!”

The girls fled from her as she stumbled away from the screaming god, her fist shattering the temple wall as she fled, leaping out into the wilderness, screaming into the night.

Facing a peculiar set of altered circumstances, Tetsu wakes find that she now has to contend with her Lunar captors, fellow inmate Solars and a ravenous horde of the living dead. Unfortunately, all of them want to get closer to her...

Fate and the Iron Tiger Part 5
By Dr. Bender

Chapter 17

Kano squirmed on the floor a little when she felt something wet tickle her ankle. Barely awake, she kicked lazily to batter the slimy feeling away, to no avail. Her frustration eventually woke her completely, eyes fluttering open as she tried to remember where she was, recognizing only that the surface she was lying on was cold, hard and exceedingly uncomfortable. It was night outside and the room was quiet and deserted, white and gold robes scattered across the floor along with other objects that her brain refused to understand.

Pushing herself upright, she couldn’t help but noticed how floppy her robe was. Looking down, she stared in confusion at how inexplicably strange her hands looked, the next thought crossing her mind being that she’d accidently put her false breasts on out of habit for some reason. All that fled from consideration when the slimy feeling slithered up her leg.

Squealing, Kano was too distracted to notice how high pitched her voice was as she grabbed for the thick, worm-like, thing that was making its way up the inside of her trouser leg. It was so slippery and squishy that her fingers couldn’t gain any purchase on it though the cloth, even as it crept up her inner thigh towards her crotch. She screamed when the head of the thing bumped something she couldn’t describe between her legs, her back arching sharply as a shock of pleasure ripped through her nerves.

All thought was driven from her mind as the thing wiggled its way inside her, making her squirm in ecstasy. She started to moan as her womb began to pulse with light, the glow getting brighter and brighter as her pleasure built to a crescendo. With one final scream, her body burst in a blaze of holy light.

#

“Misari!” Agani called out as she picked her way across the torch-lit rubble. “What in the name of the Dragons…”

“Four Anathema!” Misari protested, tearing herself away from the engineers that were raising Undefeatable Blossom of Mercy out of the pit. “FOUR! Two of them started tearing up the town out of nowhere; their skill was like nothing I’d ever seen before!”

Agani paused. “You faced four Anathema alone and lived?”

The Air caste pouted. “You make it sound more glorious than it was. At first it was only two Anathema and they were fighting each other. I was going to let one of them kill the other then finish off whoever was left but then they got serious and their attacks started knocking down buildings, so I powered up Undefeatable Blossom to take the fight to them. They seemed to have used up much of their power and retreated when I arrived on the battlefield but one made a cowardly strike against the other from behind then TWO MORE showed up to retrieve their fallen comrade. One of them shot boulders at me like arrows!”

Surveying the carnage around her, Agani shook her head. “It looks like you held off a siege… no, there isn’t time for this. Delani’s ordered you to go to her, we found an underwater manse she wants you to look at. I’m to relieve you and send some engineers and manpower to build an outpost. We had our own Anathema problem.”

After listening to Agani’s description of Tetsu’s escape from the sandbank, Misari shook her head mournfully. “Such evil power… if only the Anathema could harness it for the good of Creation rather than destruction.”

“Don’t let Hathor hear you say something like that,” Agani chuckled.

Misari rolled her eyes. “True, she is humourless when it comes to matters of faith. Sometimes I wonder if the gods are mad, making me fall for an Earth caste… but enough of that. Promise me you won’t be a hero, Agani, if whatever dispute they had is resolved, each of the Anathema displayed such skill that I doubt any one of us is a match for them.”

“And die before Delani orders it? I wouldn’t dare!” Agani quipped. “Don’t worry, I have Sarro with me and I doubt you’ll be very long.”

Nodding, Misari glanced back in worry at her warstrider. “You’ll take good care of Undefeatable Blossom, won’t you? I hate leaving him like this…”

Agani rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry; I’ll make sure he’s tucked into bed.”

Comforted, Misari bowed in thanks before stalking off to make preparations for her journey. Watching her, Agani sighed, wondering how the dependable, practical and otherwise solid Hathor ever took up with the flighty, obsessive and rather strange Air caste. Her musings were interrupted when one of her captains approached her and bowed respectfully.

“Dragonlord,” he intoned formally, “only seven deaths amongst the Legion confirmed so far, however thirty seven civilians have been pulled from the wreckage. The work crews are asking to form a detail to bury them properly in the morning.”

Agani frowned. “Request denied, pile the bodies of the civilians into a pit and burn them, our men are to be sent back to Greyfalls on the next ship.”

The captain hesitated. “Ma’am, the local priest is worried that their ghosts will rise to cause trouble.”

“Preposterous,” Agani dismissed, “any fool could handle the ghosts of these peons. Make it clear that anyone who voices protest at my orders will join the conflagration.”

“Yes ma’am,” he answered, bowing a little deeper before departing to carry out his orders.

Walking a short way down the street, Agani stopped in front of Menji’s inn, tapping her chin in thought as she surveyed the damage. Motioning for one of her officers to attend to her, she bit her lower lip thoughtfully as she considered the possibilities. “Find the peddler that used to stay here,” she ordered, “ask the peasants if they’ve seen him in the last few days. Offer a reward if you have to or beat the information out of them, I want that peddler found.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

#

“OW!” Aten complained, yanking his sore hand away after Valdis had rapped him across the knuckles with the soup ladle that had just been in the pot over the fire. “Gods, woman! Are you trying to kill me?”

“No touching when you can’t make good on your promises,” she scolded, waving the ladle at him threateningly. “Now, drink your Rockodile soup before it gets cold.”

Aten frowned at the brown-grey sludge in his bowl. “What in the name of the god of improvised cooking is a Rockodile anyway?”

“Don’t ask,” Kamaria answered, “just drink up, it’s good for healing. You’ll have to try Valdis’ Wolf-In-Sheep’s-Clothing tenderloins sometime.”

Dubious, Aten took a sip and made a face. “Actually, I don’t think I’m hungry.”

Valdis gave him a look that made him take another drink much to Kamaria’s amusement.

The cave they were staying in was small but well concealed. Rather than a fire, Kamaria’s knowledge of Sorcery had provided them with hot stones with which to boil water and keep the Solar warm while he ministered to himself. The wound had stopped bleeding long ago but it would be another day before he’d be able to leave the cave under his own power. Valdis seemed to have taken him under her wing for a reason Kamaria didn’t quite understand. Despite her protests, the raven Lunar seemed to be paying him far too much attention, though she insisted when they were alone that the attraction wasn’t sexual and more of a sisterly interest.

Quickly finishing her own bowl of Rockodile soup before she could taste it, Kamaria stood and stretched. “I’m going for another scout around town,” she announced before slipping out of the cave and quickly taking owl form.

Flying high, she could tell that something was wrong the moment she saw the red-orange glow of fires from Low Town. Swooping closer, she hooted in alarm as she took in the devastation, whole buildings collapsed and others damaged by large boulders, some of the wooden structures even still on fire despite the efforts of the townsfolk. Bodies were being piled in a mass grave across the bridge outside of town, oil and torches ready to immolate the dead.

Circling, she spied more localized chaos in the Temple atop the hill as the whores seemed to be running around aimlessly as if none of them knew what to do. Even more disturbing was the hole someone had ripped open in the outer wall facing west over the ruins of Makota City. By contrast, High Town seemed deserted, hardly a light on in any window. Deciding that it was too risky to go for a closer look, Kamaria flew back to the cave, transforming into her true form before slipping inside.

“Chaos,” she reported simply, “Low Town looks like it was attacked by an army and Menji’s Inn’s been destroyed. Also, someone’s knocked part of the Temple’s western wall down, everyone’s scurrying about like ants after the nest’s been kicked.”

“Steaming piles of Yeddim dung,” Aten swore, screwing his eyes shut. “It’s Ogren. Lift me up, we have to go looking for him.”

Valdis put her foot on his chest, pinning him down. “No movement, it can wait one more day.”

He winced. “No it can’t. That much damage, it has to be Ogren, he sent me to scout ahead. Something must have happened for him to come looking for me now and… well, you saw what he’s capable of when Messia’s not around.”

“Very well,” Kamaria sighed, “the two of you stay here; I’ll search for this Ogren to let him know where you are. Maybe I’ll be able to find Tetsu and see what he has to say about all this.”

“Don’t trust him,” Aten warned.

“Ogren or Tetsu?”

“Tetsu,” Aten said. A moment later he frowned. “Come to think of it, watch Ogren too but he’ll be ok once I bring him up to speed. I know he could have killed me and didn’t but Tetsu still stinks of dark powers no matter what he claims. Be careful how far you allow him into our confidence.”

His words made Kamaria frown as she left the cave again, neither confirming or denying whether she’d adhere to Aten’s suggestion.

#

“Help me get him onto the table!” Edge ordered, gently rolling the unconscious Rage onto his stomach on the carpet of Feather and Tetsu’s room at the Temple.

“What? Oh, right,” Feather nodded, snapping out of her concerned reverie to lend her a hand. Once he was on the table, Edge got to work in earnest.

“Bastard,” Edge swore as she worked. “Attacking after agreeing to disengage.”

“Interesting sentiment coming from an assassin,” Feather observed.

“I don’t declare formal duels first,” Edge muttered darkly. “Are you sure we’re not going to be disturbed here?”

“Only by Tetsu,” Feather sighed with worry, “and I can handle him but he should have been back here by now.”

“You know I’m here to kill him, right?” Edge admitted. “The Pattern Spiders want him dead.”

“But you’re not going to start anything until Rage is fixed,” Feather said, “because you’re a better doctor than I am. Also, we need Tetsu for our investigation, until we know who’s behind the snarl there’s no point in killing him.”

“How are you going to explain Rage and I? I know I said we needed better facilities but you’re taking a risk blowing our cover like this.”

“Like I said, I can handle Tetsu,” Feather answered, omitting the fact that she was prepared to ‘handle’ both Edge and Rage if it came down to the wire. One plan even included using Cash and Murder Games to seduce Edge, though that too was a risk. She glanced over her shoulder when she heard a commotion in the hallway and her worry intensified. “I better see what’s going on out there and get some answers. If Tetsu returns, just tell him you’re friends of mine and I can explain everything.”

Edge nodded dubiously which was good enough for Feather. The hallways were chaos. Girls screamed and squealed as the madames fought amongst themselves for control. Quickly breaking up a couple that were pulling each other’s hair like schoolgirls, Feather forced them apart to get their attention. “What by the seven celestial whores is going on here?” Feather demanded. “Where’s Sanejin?”

One of the women put her hands on her ample hips. “Who do you think you are you….” Her tirade was cut off suddenly when she found herself sitting on the floor, slightly stunned, her left cheek stinging painfully. “Who hit me?” She wondered aloud, not thinking straight.

Grabbing the other one by the robe, Feather manhandled her easily. “If I have to ask again, I swear the bruises will show,” she threatened the whimpering girl.

“S-Sanejin,” she stuttered, “Sanejin tricked Tetsu and performed the ritual.”

“WHAT?!?” Feather screeched. Enraged, she lifted the madame off her feet and pinned her against the wall. “What ritual?”

“Sanejin wanted a Solar wife,” she squeaked. “He’d worked out a method for giving his chosen one the perfect body using the power of the temple. He tricked Tetsu into some sort of divine deal and breaking his oath to make sure it would work and it did! At first… Tetsu went mad and did… something unspeakable to Sanejin before she went berserk and started killing people.”

Feather felt the blood drain from her face. “Where is Tetsu now?”

“I don’t know,” she wimpered, crying, “she broke down a wall and ran off into the wilderness.”

Growling with pure hatred, Feather tossed the girl aside and stormed down the hall with deadly purpose and implacable intensity. As she passed the warring madames, she put them in their place with casual ease, slowly restoring order. Walking into the kitchens, she noted that it was even more of a battleground, there was hardly a sack of food that wasn’t spilled over the floor. Scanning the room, she quickly found the head cook huddled behind some crates of vegetables with her staff. “You,” Feather pointed at her, “I’m in charge here now. Stand up.”

Reluctantly getting to her feet, the head chef bowed. “Ma’am? I don’t think I’ve seen you before.”

“Irrelevant since I’m the only woman in this whole temple with the sense the gods gave the common dog,” she snapped, though it was actually a lie. The Primordials created dogs, not the gods, though mortals remained largely ignorant of the fact. “You’re the head chef; you know everything that goes on in this place. Where is Sanejin now and who’s taking care of the customers?”

“Sanejin was moved to his throne room,” she answered quickly. “The dragonbloods were all poisoned as Sanejin ordered.”

“POISONED?”

“Not fatally!” She reassured quickly. “We just slipped them a very powerful sedative that Sanejin had imported… along with the Water of Eternal Perfection…”

Feather put her hand on her forehead and counted to ten before saying anything more. “I need to see a bottle of the sedative. And I need to know where these dragonbloods are.”

The head chef handed her a bottle. “Most of them are in the dining hall, they were toasting some fallen comrades.”

Pulling the cork, Feather sniffed what remained of the liquid inside before replacing it. “Malfean… this is getting worse and worse… clean up this pig sty. If anyone gives you trouble, I’ll be in the throne room.”

Striding out, Feather made a bee line for the throne room. Throwing open the main doors, she found the cavernous hall empty except for the being slumped in his throne. Sanejin had seen better days. His skin was grey and desiccated, shrunk until he was nothing but a husk of skin and bone. He wheezed with every breath, bony hands clutching the golden blanket someone had wrapped around him. Even his hair had turned white and stringy, falling freely from his scalp.

“Sanejin, Boyar of Pristine Vanity,” Feather greeted as she strode towards him, “I am Shining Feather, Agent of the Cerulean Lute of Harmony. You’re under arrest on suspicion of treason against Yu Shan and the Celestial Bureaucracy.”

“Yes, yes,” he hissed impatiently, “only a matter of time before you finally approached me.” He paused to cough up a lungful of black bile, leaning over the arm of his chair to spit it out. “I have terms for my surrender.”

“I don’t think you’re in any shape to be making bargains,” Feather scoffed.

He smiled a wicked little smile. “On the contrary, I may have lost my office and… much else besides. But I know things you’ll be interested to hear… particularly about the snarl in the Loom of Fate.”

Feather raised her eyebrows. “How do you know about that at all living out in this backwater?”

“I still have friends in Yu Shan,” he wheezed, “you’d be amazed how much business one can do with the right connections out here in the Threshold. More importantly, I daresay you’re desperate to know what I have to tell you, so let’s cut to the chase. I want a new appointment in the Cerulean Lute of Harmony and a full pardon for my crimes, both past and current.”

“The Celestial Bureaucracy, not to mention the Pattern Spiders, will want to see justice done to the perpetrators.”

“They can live with the disappointment in my case,” Sanejin sneered. “Besides, I was coerced. I only did what I had to in order to survive, if you’d been a bit quicker coming to me much of this pain could have been spared.”

“I’ll have to square it with Yaogin…”

“You mean Livinia and Uvanavu,” Sanejin chuckled, naming the Goddess of Prostitution as well as the God of Health, the two de-facto rulers of the Department of Serenity. Yaogin was the nominal head of the department but he spent his days in a drug induced stupor. “Tell Livinia I’m calling in the favour she owes me. And tell Uvanavu… hello from me.”

Frowning, Feather crossed her arms over her chest. “All right but in return I want a gesture of good faith. What have you done with Tetsu?”

At the mention of the name, Sanejin broke into a fit of coughing. “I… improved… him… I rendered him into a vision of perfection, a bride worthy of me. Something went wrong… something I hadn’t planned… there’s something in this manse, something impossible.”

“Did you see where he… she went?”

He shook his head, pointing towards the room behind the throne. “I was in pain but… I saw the hole in the wall. Downstairs, the main altar room, you can’t miss it.”

Leaving the dying god to his punishment, Feather descended the stairs down to the altar room. There were white and gold robes scattered everywhere, some torches had been knocked from the walls. Two features caught Feather’s eye but one was so amazing that it dominated her attention to the point where she almost stepped on Red Wolf’s corpse where it still lay on the floor. Off to one side of the altar rested a jade egg the size of a donkey. Rhythmic pulses of light revealed a shadowy humanoid form curled up inside, floating peacefully.

Looking first at the egg, then at the wall, Feather wandered over to the hole but kept one eye on the egg until she was looking out over the edge of the cliff outside. It was pitch black, only the stars and the moon providing scant light, the forest far below dark and silent. She knew better than to think that Tetsu had met her end plummeting to her death, her Solar charms would have prevented that outcome. Still, she was somewhere out there in the wilderness, alone, confused maybe even suicidal. It made Feather’s heart ache that she wasn’t there for her.

Feather’s thoughts were interrupted when the jade egg started to crack. As she watched, the form inside braced itself against the inner walls and pushed with its legs and back, slowly breaking the rock from the inside. One final push shattered the top, pieces falling away as the form inside broke free.

She was beautiful, approaching the beauty of Venus herself much like Sanejin once had. At least seven feet tall she was also large and athletic, though not overly so on the surface. Her legs were long, her hips wide and her waistline almost impossibly slender. To top it off, her golden hair fell over large breasts that would leave most men drooling over her like idiots. Even Feather felt the pull of physical attraction to the girl, though she forced the feeling aside immediately.

“Feather?” the woman breathed the question in a lyrical voice made for song. Looking down at herself, still standing in the egg, her jaw dropped. “I-I’m…”

“You know me?” Feather asked suspiciously, subconsciously readying herself for a fight.

“What? By the gods, I’m… Feather it’s me… it’s me, Kano!”

Chapter 18

Moaning, Tetsu slowly opened her eyes, noticing the wooden beams and ceiling over her head. She was lying in a soft bed with clean sheets, something she hadn’t done since she left Nexus. Lifting her hand out from under the sheet, she stared at the perfect, slender, digits as she wondered if this was all a dream. Bringing the strange hand to her face, she traced the lines of familiar scars that no longer existed, feeling only smooth skin under her fingertips.

“Finally awake,” Kamaria observed wryly from her seat beside the bed.

Trying to sit up, Tetsu suddenly realized that she was naked under the sheets, so she held the blanket to her chest as she rose. She also tried to ignore the twin obstructions on her chest as she did so. “W-what…” she paused, noting how soft her voice was. “What happened? Where are we?”

“As to your first question, that’s what we were hoping you could tell us,” Kamaria answered. “In the case of the second, this is Earth Rakes Sky Aerie, the fortress of Elder Adra Bloodmoon. We’re a few hundred miles south south-east of River’s Bend.”

Wiping her eyes, Tetsu shook her head, feeling her long hair brush against her back. “No… we’d be far too close to the Wyld.”

“Close to the edge actually,” Kamaria shrugged, “the Aerie’s protected from the effects, so don’t fret any. You’ve been asleep for about a day, I’m sorry but I was forced to render you unconscious, you were wild and babbling. Do you remember?”

Tetsu shook her head, half her attention on Kamaria while her eyes wandered down the outline of the strange form under the sheets.

“All right, then let’s start with the basics. I’m Kamaria Clearwater and you would be…”

Looking up at her, Tetsu stared for a few moments before bursting into laughter, falling back down onto the pillow as she chortled. Kamaria sighed and moved to stand up before Tetsu reached out to grab her wrist. “No, wait, I’m sorry. You already know me, Kamaria Clearwater, I’m Tetsu.”

“Tetsu?” Kamaria asked in disbelief.

Concentrating, Tetsu made her caste mark glow on her forehead. “Unless you think there are two Eclipse caste solars in River’s Bend at the same time…”

She slumped back into her chair. “Maybe you better tell me what happened after we parted ways the day before yesterday.”

After a long sigh, Tetsu began the long story of her betrayal without referencing the Gnomon by name. “Then he dumped the cage into the water and me along with it,” Tetsu said when she got to the meeting with Dancer On The Threshold. “I held my breath and escaped the cage but… it was like a bad dream where you’re being chased but the corridor you’re in never ends, the shaft kept growing longer until everything melted away and I found myself swimming in a fuzzy grey mist. When I realized I could breathe, I landed on what I thought was a platform amid the clouds… was that the Wyld?”

“The Wyld can appear as anything, it can also be bent to your will,” Kamaria informed her. “What you describe sounds like a Freehold, a bubble of the Wyld trapped in Creation. It’s possible that a powerful manse could have a secret door to such an area… but I have to ask, how did you escape?”

“I don’t know. There was a… spirit of some sort. She called herself Dancer On The Threshold…”

Kamaria drew in a sharp breath. “Inhumanly beautiful? Dark skinned, wears silver livery like a southern dancer?”

“That’s her, she… told me things I didn’t understand. I asked her how I could escape but she only spoke in riddles…”

“Can you remember exactly what she said?”

Tetsu nodded. “I’m sure I can but I told you it didn’t make sense.”

“Never mind that, we’ll have to go over your meeting in detail later. What did she do then?”

Sitting up again, Tetsu drew her legs up to her chest and hugged them, shivering at the memory. “She… ate me. Then I remember being warm and feeling safe… next thing I remember vaguely is crawling out of the altar pool back at the temple. All I could think of was making Sanejin suffer for what he’d done and when it was over… I guess I snapped, I vaguely remember running but not much else.”

“I found you knocking down trees with your fists,” Kamaria added, “you were ranting incoherently… but I guess after everything that happened, a mental breakdown is perfectly understandable, I don’t know how my own sanity would fare in the same circumstances. After incapacitating you so that could couldn’t hurt yourself, I found Aten’s friend Ogren and Valdis and I flew you all back to the Aerie.”

“Ogren? Another Solar?”

“Dawn caste, a warrior,” Kamaria said with some distaste. “I don’t know what to make of him yet but Elder Bloodmoon trusts him. We also have a young Zenith caste staying here, which makes you a Night caste shy of a full Circle.”

Tetsu tried to grunt but her voice wasn’t suited to it, so it came out as more of a squeak. “I’m really not used to relying on others.”

“What you do is your own business,” Kamaria shrugged. “I have to go inform the Elder that you’re awake, she’ll want to speak to you I’m sure. You might want to spend the time until then… acquainting yourself with your new body. Believe me; I know how disconcerting changing shape can be the first time. If it’s any consolation, it is a remarkable improvement.”

Groaning, Tetsu held her face in her hands. “Thank you for the effort but… please… just leave me alone for a while.”

Nodding, Kamaria left and closed the door, though Tetsu heard the distinctive sound of an iron bar falling into place. Checking her surroundings, she realized that she was in a cell, though at least it was more spacious and better appointed than any cell she’d ever been in. There was even a mirror in the corner that drew her curiosity.

Pulling the sheet around herself, she got up easily on her feet, marvelling at the ease with which her body moved and reflexively found its own balance. Walking up to one side of the mirror, Tetsu leant across to peer in at herself then immediately pulled herself back, clapping one hand over her open mouth. Looking back into the mirror confirmed her worst nightmare.

The girl in the mirror was the sort of rare beauty kings started wars over. Perfectly formed from head to toe, the bedsheet made her look like she was ready to pose for an artist’s masterpiece. Her skin, hair and eyes just made her all the more exotic and alluring, the jewel in the crown of any harem.

Again she brought her hands to her face, still feeling the ghost of her old scars. Turning her head, she allowed her fingers to stray down her slender neck, pausing at the edge of the bedsheet just below her collar bone. “Damn it,” she swore, turning away from the mirror again. She turned so fast that her hair fell over her face; making her growl in consternation as she futilely tried to get it out of the way. Snarling in frustration, she lashed out at the mirror, her fist cracking the pane without so much as a scratch.

She was so distracted that she didn’t notice that she was being watched for a few moments. Glancing at the door, Tetsu spied a little girl with fiery red hair peeking through the peephole at her. They stared at each other for a long time before Tetsu broke the silence. “Come to stare at the freak show, kid?”

She frowned. “I think you look very pretty,” she answered in a matter of fact tone.

Snorting, Tetsu tried to slump back down on the bed but couldn’t throw herself out of balance and ended up sitting stiffly. “I’m… tell me something I don’t know, kid,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m Messia,” she introduced herself, “what’s your name?”

“Tsu… Tetsu. Wait, you’re Messia? I’ve heard of you, you’re the Zenith caste!”

“And you’re the new Eclipse caste,” Messia beamed, “it’ll be nice to have another girl around to help me keep the boys in line. I swear, they can’t do anything by themselves! Aten gets hurt an Ogren’s back after a day or two empty handed… well, except for you. I don’t know why they wanted to leave me behind, I’m a Solar too after all.”

Tetsu frowned. “There’s a lot of soldiers at River’s Bend right now.”

“I can handle myself,” the little girl protested, “Ogren’s been teaching me martial arts and Aten’s been teaching me sorcery. I can take on a few dragonbloods.”

Knowing it was futile arguing with the little girl, Tetsu changed the subject. “What style has he been teaching you?”

“Oh, only Solar Hero Style,” she sighed, “he’s also trying to teach me some charm called ‘Swallowing the Lotus Root’ that’s supposed to make Terrestrial styles easier to learn but I don’t get it. Why learn Terrestrial styles at all if Celestial ones are so much better? Hey! We should spar sometime!”

An image of using her Dark Messiah style on the little girl popped into Tetsu’s head unbidden. It wasn’t a pretty image but she couldn’t think of a way to let the girl down gently. “Maybe once I’m out of here and the Elder’s finished with me, ok?”

“Sure! It’ll be great to fight someone new, the Lunars mostly just humour me when I challenge them, they don’t take me seriously at all. Don’t worry about Elder Bloodmoon, though, she’s really nice…”

A sound from further down the hallway interrupted her when she glanced over her shoulder to look. “I better go,” she whispered, “I wasn’t supposed to come talk to you. But don’t worry, the Unconquered Sun is watching over us.”

She slipped away so suddenly and quietly that the former child sneak thief in Tetsu couldn’t help but be impressed. There was no time for nostalgia, however, as the door was unbarred, swinging open to reveal a tall older woman with slight wrinkles around her eyes and stripes of grey in her dark brown hair. Kamaria followed behind her at a respectful distance, closing the door behind them as the older woman appraised Tetsu with penetrating eyes.

“You would be Elder Bloodmoon,” Tetsu assumed.

“And you are Tetsu, the self-styled wandering hero of River’s Bend,” the elder muttered. “But at least that spares us some tedious introductions. Kamaria tells me that you saw Dancer On The Threshold, what’s more she’s responsible for your current circumstances.”

“That’s right.”

“Do you have any idea of whom you speak?” Adra snapped, glaring down at Tetsu.

“Not a clue, just that Kamaria thinks what she said to me is important,” Tetsu shrugged. “All I know is that she was crazy and talked in riddles and enigmas.”

“Oh, you think that now,” the elder muttered as she started to pace. “And yes, she is crazy. Crazy, inconstant, enigmatic and unknowable; the moment you think you’ve got a handle on her she slips through your fingers. The real question is what she wants with you and why. She can do as she pleases, of course, but not all of my peers will see it that way.”

Tetsu shook her head, blowing a few more stray hairs out of her face yet again. “I don’t get it, what was so important about this ‘Dancer’? Other than how she made me like this…”

“Of course, you’re still largely ignorant of celestial politics,” Adra sighed, quickly waving off Tetsu’s protests. “Never mind, I shouldn’t have expected otherwise, the Immaculate Philosophy suppresses much of the reality of things. Besides, Dancer On The Threshold is a lesser known aspect, certainly not as famous as The Two-Faced Bride or The Walker At The Crossroads. You are one of the few individuals outside of the Lunar exalted to have conversed with Luna, a member of the Incarnae and one of the ultimate sovereigns of all Creation.”

Shocked, Tetsu rose to her feet. “WHAT? What was she doing there? Why would she do… this?!?”

Adra shook her head. “What part of unknowable do you not get? Luna does things for her own reasons but one thing is clear: you have been favoured beyond all measure by our goddess. As I said, some Lunars will see the folly of trying to make the goddess conform to our standards of behaviour, others won’t be so charitable. You were lucky to fall into my hands, others would see you as a liar or a threat. As for your transformation, it is my experience that Luna brings chaos but not without reason. You have been favoured by two of the Incarnae, Tetsu, count your blessings.”

“I think I was meant to find you,” Kamaria said, scratching the back of her neck thoughtfully. “Our ability to shapeshift is a blessing from Luna but at the same time such mutability poses questions about the nature of identity. Elder, I’d be happy to oversee Tetsu’s tutelage.”

“Hmmm… if you think you know what you’re letting yourself in for,” Adra shrugged. “Tetsu, would you accept Kamaria as a guide and overseer during your stay here? I’d rather not keep you locked up but I can’t guarantee your safety here at the Aerie.”

“I don’t get it, aren’t you the one in charge here?” Tetsu asked.

Adra threw her head back and laughed. “Oh, I am the Elder here but you’ll discover quickly that Lunar relations are a mixture of individual responsibility, mutual respect and domination. My support lends you some measure of protection but you’ll have to see to your own defence.”

Strangely, the sentiment made Tetsu smile. “Actually… that’s the best thing I’ve heard in weeks.”

“Well, good,” Adra said with a smirk that held volumes about her opinion of overconfident youth. “I expect I’ll see you later then, if you’ll excuse me.”

Once the Elder was gone, Kamria lifted Tetsu’s chin speculatively, brushing the new woman’s hair back. “First, we should get this hair out of the way. Lots of male trueform Lunars have trouble with that the first time they shift genders. Then we’ll find something simple and comfortable for you to wear.”

The first lessons were short and simple, allowing Tetsu to acclimatize easily. Kamaria helped tie back Tetsu’s hair into a ponytail a few times before making her do it herself. Tetsu surprised herself at being a fast learner despite her irritation at the whole process as well as Kamaria’s insistence that she should wait a while before deciding to cut it. Clothes were simpler because Kamaria selected exclusively plain, loose, training garments that consisted of a white tunic with voluminous sleeves and a black cloth belt over floppy black pants that were clinched at the ankle. Underwear was more difficult, though they eventually found a set that fit, but Tetsu was forced to go barefoot due to a shortage of socks.

Immediately upon stepping outside Tetsu’s cell, she gasped in wonder. Beyond the short hallway that led to similar empty cells was a wooden balcony that looked out over the fortress that perched at the very peak of a mountain that stood higher than the clouds. Several airships were moored to docking bays far below, floating serenely despite the harsh winds. They were standing on one of several towers, each with their own balconies from which bird-beastmen and people of the air would dive from to unfurl their wings and soar gracefully to the courtyards below.

The capabilities of the native inhabitants made the architecture of the fortress strange. Most were obviously capable of flight, so there were few stairways since the flying people could simply hop over obstacles in their path or ascend on their own terms. Tetsu noticed a few travellers who would grow wings then promptly retract them on command, making a mental note that there were a few Lunars amongst the sparse crowds. Mostly they trained, drilling in the use of weapons and armour, sparring or performing martial arts katas.

“What is this place?” Tetsu asked breathlessly as she looked out over the scene.

“The Solars might have disappeared for fifteen hundred years but threats like the Raksha didn’t disappear with you,” Kamaria explained. “Here at the very edge of Creation, we Lunars have been standing vigil in your absence. The Silver Pact operates many of these sorts of fortresses, though none are quite the same as the others. Earth Rakes Sky Aerie is a stronghold for many of the factions within the Pact, though mainly the Swords of Luna and the Crossroads Society.”

“The who?”

Kamaria took a deep breath, leaning against the banister next to Tetsu. “As Elder Bloodmoon explained, we Lunars are highly individualistic. Each of us is our own nation unto ourselves, who we are and what we believe is very important to each of us. The Silver Pact gives us a sense of cohesion but beyond that we are free to do as we will… unless a dominant will enforces its dictates upon us but that’s all part of the cut and thrust of Lunar politics. Within the Pact there are groups of like-minded Lunars who do what their conscience dictates to defend Creation from threats within and without. The Swords of Luna concentrate on eradicating enemies from without, mostly the Raksha. They stage raids on Raksha strongholds in the Wyld, taking the fight to the enemy, so the Aerie is a natural base of operations for them. Conversely, the Crossroads Society is the protector of knowledge, particularly sorcery. Adra Bloodmoon is a respected member who often accepts apprentices and several of her apprentices also teach others here.”

“But there are other factions here?”

“The Wardens of Gaia and the Sun King Seneschals,” Kamaria sighed. “The Wardens aren’t much of a problem here but their faction’s split in two directions, moderates and fanatics. At the core, the Wardens want to integrate human civilization with the ways of nature but half of them take a measured approach attempting to weld the two competing forces into a harmonious union while the other simply wants to level every city and reduce humans to barbarism. The latter group are the ones who actually live up to the Immaculate descriptions of the Anathema. Conversely, the Sun King Seneschals… it’s embarrassing to admit this to a Solar but they believe that our rightful place is in support of you. Usually they stay away from the Aerie but the presence of three of you in the area, now four, means that a substantial number are likely to arrive any day to test you.”

Tetsu blinked. “Test us? What sort of test?”

Kamaria shook her head and stood up straight. “I will not speak of it, it’s too embarrassing. Suffice to say that you need not fear, they will merely wish to meet you once and that should be the end of their curiosity. I suggest you not let their flattery go to your head, however, and remain cautious of them no matter how tempting an offer they may make to you. Come on, Valdis is with the others, they’ll want to see you.”

Following Kamaria downstairs, Tetsu couldn’t help but notice that everyone they passed turned to stare at her, even the eagle beastmen who cocked their heads to one side curiously in the manner of birds. Reaching a smaller, out of the way, courtyard, Tetsu immediately recognized Valdis, Aten and the little girl Messia who had visited her earlier. She assumed that the brown-haired, muscular man who was busy cleaning and sharpening a series of blades was Ogren. They were all watching Messia spar with and eagle beastman who appeared to be getting his ass kicked despite being armed with a spear.

Pouting indignantly, Messia’s robes swirled around her as she launched a series of backspin kicks that slowly whittled down the spear, snapping off about a foot of the polearm with each blow. The beastman counterattacked by attempting to strike the side of her head with the butt, though Messia blocked it easily with her forearm before toppling her opponent with a leg sweep and finishing him with an downward axe kick that stopped an inch before it would have crushed his throat.

The audience clapped politely but Messia just seemed more irritated as she helped the beastman to his feet. “Come on, Cheepchik, you let me win that time.”

“I say, young mistress, you’ve gotten hold of the wrong end of the stick,” Cheepchik protested as he rose to his talons.

“Everyone,” Kamria interrupted, calling their attention, “our friend is awake.”

Tetsu was more worried about what she was going to tell them all than she was embarrassed to be standing in front of Valdis and Aten. When they all looked towards her, she took careful note of their reactions. Aten was the easiest to read, since his tongue practically lolled out of his mouth like a slavering hound, gross enough that Tetsu seriously considered wounding him again. Valdis was more subtle about it, she had a speculative look on her face but gnawed lightly on the tip of her little finger, betraying her inner thoughts. Cheepchik cocked his head to one side in that strange manner that the eagle beastmen had of curious consideration which Tetsu took for interest. Last amongst the adults, Ogren simply stared with cold, calculating, eyes as if he were evaluating her worth on the open market.

Messia, of course, skipped over enthusiastically and beamed up at Tetsu with guileless innocence. “Hi, I’m Messia, would you spar with me?”

Tetsu hesitated, not quite knowing how to deal with the girl. “I… don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“I’m sure Tetsu would love to spar with you,” Ogren called out, his eyes still cold and emotionless. “A martial artist should always be ready to accept a challenge… unless our new princess is afraid of breaking a nail.”

Male, scarred, Tetsu would have gotten in his face, or at least made a snide remark of his own. Beautiful female Tetsu simply frowned, having no idea how she was supposed to respond. “I wouldn’t want to hurt the girl…”

“HEY!” Messia protested, glaring with her hands on her hips, looking imperiously miffed. “I may be young but I’m a fellow martial artist and a Solar, I don’t want you to take it easy on me!”

“Well said,” Ogren encouraged, smirking, “after all, one can’t learn without adversity.”

It took every ounce of will for Tetsu to remain calm and not stalk over and slap the man. “If you’re both going to push me into this, fine,” Tetsu answered evenly. “What are the rules?”

Kamaria was about to answer but Ogren spoke over her. “Submission,” he answered, “you both fight until one yields.”

“Ogren?” Aten questioned him but was only answered with a curt wave.

“Now that’s my kind of fight!” Messia giggled, pretend-cracking her knuckles.

Tetsu glanced down at Messia then up at Ogren before returning her gaze down to Messia. “Are you sure you want me not to hold back?”

“Yes! I’m sick of not being taken seriously! I’ve been training hard, I know I’m no match for Ogren yet but I can take you! Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“All right then,” Tetsu answered, resigned.

Kamria grabbed Tetsu’s shoulder to stop her for a moment while Messia returned to the sparring circle. “You’re going to take it easy on her, right?” the lunar whispered.

“That’s not what she wants,” Tetsu replied, shaking off the hand but glancing meaningfully at Ogren where only Kamaria could see. Moving to the circle, Tetsu took a deep, cleansing, breath as her opponent stretched. They both bowed, Messia took up a basic fighting stance while Tetsu remained at ease when Kamaria gave them the mark.

Grinning, Messia immediately jumped to launch a snap kick at Tetsu’s face. The Eclipse leant backwards to avoid the blow and simply punched the girl in the chest, knocking her out of the air. She let out a short, sharp, screech of pain as she writhed on the paved stone floor of the courtyard.

Aten shot to his feet and only took a single step before Ogren stopped him with a short bark. “Aten! Don’t interfere.”

“Are you mad?” Aten snapped back.

“I’m not finished yet!” Messia growled, slowly regaining her feet. “Stay out of this, Aten! I can do it!”

Aten looked on helplessly as the little girl took up another fighting stance. Tetsu couldn’t help but pity him in that moment, unable to save someone partly from herself. “You don’t need to push yourself like this, Messia,” Tetsu told her sadly, seeing something of her old self at that age.

“Shut up,” she snapped, “this is what I wanted. I was holding back because I thought you were new. Now I don’t have to take it easy on you.”

Messia started with a series of punches that were well executed but lacked substance, though she made up for it with passion. Blocking a few but simply accepting several punches and kicks, Tetsu’s return kick to the girl’s stomach knocked her back several yards until she landed flat on her face.

“This is ridiculous,” Kamaria snarled.

Valdis shook her head in disagreement with her lover. “If the girl wants to learn to fight, this had to happen sometime.”

“Oh, come on!” Aten snapped. “She’s not even thirteen yet!”

“I killed my first man when I was seven,” Ogren answered calmly as he continued to sharpen one of his throwing knives. “Tetsu here learned to fight on the streets, probably not much older than I was. If Messia wants to survive against the dragonblooded she needs to be prepared, unfortunately there are skills that can’t be imparted by a teacher.”

Tetsu watched as Messia slowly rose to her feet. “In a real fight you’d already be dead,” she told the girl as a matter of fact. “A dragonblood would have ended your existence at the end of a sword or spear while you were writhing on the ground. Your enthusiasm is good but don’t be so quick to grow up.”

“Shut up,” Messia shouted, taking up another fighting stance, though it obviously pained her to stand. “This is a fight to submission; it’s not over yet.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Tetsu begged her.

“Yes, she does,” Ogren disagreed, “when it comes down to the wire both of us know that simple tenacity will get you through.”

“That works on the streets, not in a dojo,” Tetsu rebutted. “It’s a sacrifice that nobody should have to make.”

Messia finally caught her breath and charged, screaming, her right fist glowing with golden energy as she pulled it back to strike. Stepping to one side, Tetsu gave her a swift tap to the back of the neck that made her fall onto the stonework again.

Cheepchik uttered a few bird-like clicks that Tetsu took as an admonishment. “That was unnecessary.”

“No, this is unnecessary,” Tetsu commented, placing her foot on Messia’s back as the girl tried to stand again, forcing her down.

“Hey! Get off!” Messia shouted.

“Not until you acknowledge defeat,” Tetsu commented, “I’m sick of hurting you already.”

As much as Messia strained, she simply wasn’t strong enough to rise. “I won’t quit! There has to be a way!”

“There isn’t one,” Tetsu answered her unspoken question. “Some problems can’t be solved by throwing yourself at them. It takes forethought, planning and effort to achieve some goals. Take a deep breath, accept your loss now and let Aten treat your wounds. Learn from this and become stronger.”

Ogren snorted. “Messia…”

“Perhaps, Ogren,” Tetsu interrupted, “if you’re going to spit poison in her ear from the sidelines you’d rather take her place?”

Staring at her, Ogren slowly stood, setting his weapons aside. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said, throwing Tetsu’s own words back in her face.

Tetsu raised her eyebrow. “Afraid to break a nail, princess?”

He grinned. “Messia, let Aten look at your injuries.”

The little girl sputtered. “But I…”

“No arguments.”

Aten picked Messia up and moved her to one side of the courtyard, unrolling a medicine pack from his belt while the girl kept her eyes intently on Tetsu and Ogren as they faced off. “Best of three bouts,” Tetsu insisted, “first touch wins. No charms.”

Nodding, Ogren took his place, the two of them bowed formally and took their fighting stances. For a few seconds they just stared at each other, looking for an opening. When Ogren finally struck, his fist was like lightning, the move suddenly springing from nowhere. Somehow, Tetsu was faster, leaning to one side so that the blow brushed past her hair and tapping him lightly on the ribs.

“Touch!” Kamaria shouted, acting as judge for the round. “Advantage Tetsu.”

Ogren’s brow furrowed. “How did you even see that attack?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Tetsu taunted, “it wasn’t that fast. Besides, I saw your shoulder tense just before you threw the punch.”

“I forfeit,” he declared with a self satisfied smirk on his face as he turned away from her. “Well played, Tetsuko.”

Tetsu glared at his back as he packed up his blades and swaggered away until he was out of sight. “Ignore him,” Kamaria muttered, “you’ll just encourage him otherwise.”

“Maybe,” Tetsu muttered, turning away… to find Aten glaring at her from mere inches away. “Oh, you. How is Messia?”

His glare softened for a moment before hardening again. “I put her to sleep. She’ll be fully healed by the time she wakes. Now my question, what in the name of…”

“She asked for a proper challenge, I gave her a proper challenge.”

“SHE’S TWELVE!” he shouted. “You could have held back!”

“I did,” Tetsu shrugged, “she’s not dead.”

Valdis put a hand on his shoulder. “Aten, I know you hate seeing Messia suffer but this was good for her. You and Ogren coddle her too much; if she wants to fight she needs to know pain in order to survive.”

“But she’s… she’s…”

Tetsu put her hands on her hips. “Aten, is your problem that she’s hurt or that I hurt a girl?”

“A little girl,” he scowled, putting emphasis in the ‘little’. All three women slapped themselves on the forehead. “What?” he demanded as he faced their looks.

“Ok, Aten, that’s kind of sweet,” Kamaria explained patiently, “but we don’t need your protection and Messia doesn’t need you holding her back. If I’d seen this before I might have stretched the rules of hospitality and accepted Messia’s challenge myself.”

He gave all three of them a dark look. “You don’t have to beat the tar out of a new student to teach them martial arts.”

“Aten,” Tetsu sighed, “when I first arrived in Nexus as an orphan, a girl beat the tar out of me for stealing a bread roll. I was younger than Messia and the girl in question was a little older than me but I’d been working in my father’s forge for years. She still kicked my ass because she’d been training in the local dojo. I saw her spar in that dojo and believe me; she received no quarter for being a girl. In fact, I’ve seen many dojos in my time and none of them have such a misogynistic policy. I don’t like it either but she needed that beating and more importantly, if you want to be angry at someone, be angry at Ogren for pushing me into it.”

He blinked, stupidly. “Ogren? Wait, what?”

Valdis shook her head. “So smart in some areas, so dumb in others. Come on, Aten, I’ll explain it to you while we tuck Messia into bed.”

Despite his protests, Valdis dragged him away to tend to the little Zenith who was sleeping peacefully in the shade. “Your block was impressive, by the way,” Kamaria said, as they watched them depart with Cheepchik. “I doubt I could have blocked Ogren’s attack.”

“Cheepchik’s there to kill Messia if Aten or Ogren misbehave,” Tetsu observed, changing the subject, “she’s your hostage.”

“Were we that obvious?” Kamaria asked, scratching her neck in embarrassment.

“No, I just know how these things work. It’s a smart play, they both obviously place much value on her.”

“Honestly, I doubt Cheekchik will have the heart to go through with it,” Kamaria sighed. “Messia certainly knows how to inspire love and devotion, though it’s so artless I doubt she actually knows she’s doing it. She’s going to be a terror in a few years.”

“She’s rather impressive now,” Tetsu grumbled.

“Come on,” Kamaria chuckled, “let’s get you acquainted with the rest of the Aerie.”

#

“THIS IS PREPOSTEROUS!” Nellens Rapik screeched, slamming her fists down on the table. Unfortunately, her voice wasn’t as suited to bellowing as it had once been and her impact did little more than rattle a few glasses. The brunette’s slender frame just wasn’t built for grand displays of physical strength and the way the collar of her rope kept slipping over one shoulder whenever she moved her arms ruined her intended effect.

Surrounding her were a score of formerly male dragonbloods, now beautiful ladies in the prime of youth. Had he still been male, Feather would have been tempted to work her way through each of them in turn. Privately, she admitted to herself that she was still tempted but her worry for Tetsu and her desire to return to her lover’s side overrode her base instincts. “I’m sorry Lady Nellens,” Feather apologized with a polite bow, “but this is the judgement of the Celestial Bureaucracy. There is no cure for the Waters of Eternal Perfection, Sanejin has been arrested for the crime and punished to the full extent of the law. I understand that this places you at great inconvenience…”

“WE ARE NOT WOMEN!” Rapik screeched. “How can you expect us to live like this?”

“As an official auditor I am prepared to smooth your transition into your new life by submitting the appropriate changes to your fates. I would like to point out that your compatriots who were born female are also going through some adjustment…”

“They were deliriously happy!” one of the others, a fire caste with scarlet hair and a deep red blush to her skin snapped.

Feather took a deep breath, wondering if she’d really been this obnoxious to deal with. “Former gentlemen, I feel I must point out to you the folly of your current line of thought. There is NO CURE. If you can accept that and move on with your lives, it will be better for everyone, yourselves and those around you. Many of you have been rejuvenated to the prime of life, you now have a great many years ahead of you and even a chance to re-do your lives. If any amongst you can tell me that you have no regrets then I will point out a liar. Moreover, what exactly is your problem with being women? You are the Chosen, next to that your gender is meaningless.”

An blonde, athletic, Earth caste stood up and did a much better job of slamming her hands down on the table than Rapik had. “Well, I for one aren’t too keen on the idea of giving birth for the continuation of my bloodline! I have done my duty to the Realm several times over already!”

Feather scowled. “So you were quite willing to inflict such a condition but aren’t willing to contribute in kind? You disgust me and should feel ashamed.”

“If cooler heads might be allowed to prevail,” one of the air castes interrupted before tempers could boil over into open conflict, “doesn’t such a profound manipulation of essence disrupt the plan Fate has for each of us? I would have thought restoring that would be the Celestial Bureaucracy’s priority.”

“While the Terrestrial Exalted are indeed important to the divine plan,” Feather said, trying to soften the blow she was about to give to their egos, “fate is also adaptable. Changes occur all the time, every time one of you uses essence to manipulate the world around you in fact. It may be that this change has improved the plan. As I said, I will be working to smooth this transition over for you all. If you want my suggestion, go into seclusion and meditate for a while. Try to calm yourselves and consider your new place in Creation and the good that may come of the position you find yourselves in. I understand that you are angry and frightened for the future, you are staring into the abyss of the unknown. However, it is not as bad as you think.”

Livid, Rapik swept her hands across her end of the large dining table, scattering glasses, plates and assorted fruits across the room, forcing her compatriots to jump back out of the way. “I WILL NOT ACCEPT THIS! I REFUSE! I WISH I’D DIED WITH THE OTHERS, NOT TO HAVE TO UNDERGO THIS SHAME!” she shouted, on the verge of tears before storming out, practically battering down the doors that were in her way.

“Well,” Feather sighed, “with that outburst, I must apologize but I have to excuse myself. There is much work to be done. Don’t worry, I will be talking this over with each of you, I suggest that you retire to consider the issue in private. Good evening.”

Walking sedately out of the room as the dragonbloods burst into an angry hubbub, she waited until she was out of sight before running up the stairs to the second floor. Finding her way to the battlements, she leant over to spy Rapik storming down the hill, clutching her oversized robe to stop it from falling off. Summoning her bow and quiver from Elsewhere, she selected a very special arrow and fired it down at the disgruntled Wood caste. When the arrow hit her back, it disappeared without leaving so much as a mark, though she yelped and turned around looking for whatever had hit her. Finding nothing, however, she continued down the hill towards High Town and, Feather mused, her inevitable doom.

“What are you smiling at?” Kano asked as she approached, her colourful white, orange, blue and gold robe depicting carp swimming in a serene pool as it fluttered in the breeze.

“Oh, just another job well done,” Feather said, still grinning wickedly. “I’m done with the dragonbloods for now, how are you coping?”

Kano grinned. “You know what? I could get used to this. Sanejin was an idiot; he had paradise in his grasp but couldn’t see the wood for the trees.”

“That’s what pride and ambition does to us all,” Feather agreed with a sigh. “Aside from having a bevy of gorgeous whores at your beck and call, though…”

“I’m fine,” Kano insisted, stretching as she took a deep breath. “In fact, I’m not just fine, I’m better than I ever was in my entire life. I mean, some things are scary if I think about them too much, like the prayers.”

Feather raised an eyebrow. “You’re the goddess of vanity but you find prayers disturbing? You know, you’re the first being in all Creation that’s ever said that, I think, why don’t you lay your reasoning out for me.”

“Ok,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Vanity isn’t the same as beauty but it’s a close second, the way I figure it. Sanejin must have received these sorts of prayers too I guess but I find they’re… superficial. A few minutes ago, I got a prayer from a girl in the west who wanted a more petite nose. That’s what they’re mostly like, better nose, larger breasts, bigger penises, sculpted abs, ears, lips, eyes, unfortunate warts, zits that appear just before major ceremonies… and I get them from EVERYWHERE. That’s the other problem, I’ve never even dreamed of seeing the West and now I’m getting prayers from people who live on islands! Oh but the worst are the prayers that wish ugliness on other people, or for someone’s children to beat someone else’s children at some game. I was kind of perturbed by the one who wanted a deformed baby to die because it was ruining the family’s reputation… you know, vanity’s not really a very nice purview. I’m trying to look at it as helping to beautify Creation but people will do some really ugly things just to keep up appearances.”

Feather sighed, nibbling her lip. “You know Kano, it’s actually refreshing to hear you say that. Most gods don’t really think about what they mean to Creation, it’s all just a big game. You shame me too because I used to think the same way.”

Kano’s gaze was uncomfortably penetrating. “But now you’re going to be a mother.”

Lacing her fingers together to stop herself from fidgeting, Feather nodded. “They’re going to take her away from me, Kano. The moment she’s weaned, they’ll take her away to begin her training. I might be able to see her but more likely they’ll forbid any contact in order to keep her from forming any attachments. Tetsu will never see her, at least not until she’s older... and by then she might not even know either of us.”

“Joining the Convention of Essence Wielders will help you in that respect,” Kano suggested, “you will have strong support to keep you involved with your own child. If we can rally more support for you, which I think we can, nobody will be able to prevent it.”

“I… wait, we?” Feather asked, her eyebrow raised.

“Don’t look at me like that, I’ve been thinking a lot about this. There’s no way the Celestial Bureaucracy will let me stay here, what Sanejin was doing was highly illegal. I’ll be ordered to resume his duties in Yu Shan where I can be kept under someone’s thumb.”

“That’s… remarkably well reasoned. Who are you and what have you done with Kano?”

She laughed. “What? I’ve been watching my father for years, though I didn’t understand what I was watching at the time. Then I saw Tetsu in action, now you… you know, I know why the Sidereals like keeping their secrets. If mortals knew what was really going on, they’d be much harder to control. You know, I think I really get Tetsu now. I didn’t really understand most of the things he did, I’m not sure he really understood them himself but I think deep down he knew that Creation didn’t work the way we’re told it works.”

“Don’t talk about him… her in the past tense,” Feather scolded. “Just because I can’t find her doesn’t mean she’s dead. She’ll come back, I know she will.”

“I didn’t mean… no, you’re right, I’m sorry,” Kano apologized, patting Feather on the shoulder. “Tetsu’s a survivor. She’ll adapt and come back for you, I know she will.”

Nodding, Feather held back her tears. “All we can do for now is wait for a decision on Sanejin’s offer and try to stop these idiot dragonbloods from doing anything rash. Have you looked in on Rage?”

“He’s stable,” Kano answered, “which is more than I can say for your friend Edge.”

“Acquaintance,” Feather corrected. “And as much as I like Rage, he’s chosen his side too. They create a problem that doesn’t offer an easy solution.”

“We could dose them with the Water of Eternal Perfection and get Tetsu to seduce them.”

Feather gave the goddess a flat look.

“Just kidding!” she said, grinning broadly.

#

Wincing, Bonzo carefully switched the baby in her arms over to her other breast, vaguely annoyed at the whole process. She still felt queasy and weak from the birth and her ill health wasn’t being helped by a general lack of sleep or having to change her little girl’s diaper amongst the thousand other things Sarro was having her do to build her strength. Worst was her worry over the little girl in her arms, the way she coughed and wheezed on occasion as well as the unnatural pallor of her skin.

Sometimes she wanted to ditch the little maggot, or considered drowning it in the washing tub… but then she looked down into her daughter’s cute little eyes and all those thoughts would fly away. “I think you’re going to drive mommy insane,” she told her daughter, tickling her chin. The little girl actually giggled back at her.

Walking over to the door, she made sure she was covered before opening the door and sticking her head out, finding the guard whose helmet she had vomited in on watch outside. “I’m sorry but do you think you could come in and watch her for a minute while I do my exercises?”

He looked a little shocked for a moment before answering. “Uh, yes ma’am, it should be all right as long as you let me answer the door.”

Agreeing quickly, she let him close the door behind him when he entered. “I’m sorry for vomiting in your helmet before… I’m sorry; I don’t even know your name.”

“Dieter,” he answered crisply like he was on parade, “Private Dieter Nesh, ma’am.”

Nodding in thanks, she set the baby into her cot with a kiss before moving onto the exercise matt. Dieter stood beside the cot and let the baby grasp his finger as she considered the man curiously. “What’s her name?” he asked.

Busy stretching, it took Bonzo a moment to register the question. “Oh, Tricia.”

“No second name?”

“I don’t have one,” Bonzo admitted, “my mother was one of the temple prostitutes and no man ever admitted to being my father. I was raised in Low Town.”

“I didn’t think there were any women in Low Town before?”

Her heart lurched. “No, I, er…”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” he apologized, “I shouldn’t ask you any questions, forget I said anything.”

“No… right, well, see that you don’t ask any more stupid questions, then… I need to do my exercises anyway,” she snapped, turning away from him.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with the same crisp tone of dutiful acceptance.

As she exercised in silence, Bonzo couldn’t help but look over her shoulder every now and again to watch him play with Tricia. He was making her daughter giggle with funny faces that also brought a smile to Bonzo’s lips despite herself. There was something about the armoured man that made her curious, a nebulous attraction she didn’t understand but couldn’t deny. Concentrating on her exercises, she tried to put it out of her mind… but her eyes kept wandering back.

#

“Where in all of Malfeas is everyone?” Nellens Rapik asked the empty streets rhetorically as he stormed through High Town. She hated her new voice, it was just impossible to get a low growl out of it. Barging through the gates of the Nellens mansion, she was shocked to find the courtyard deserted and in disarray. Throwing open the main doors, not a single servant answered her call, not even when she rang the bell for assistance.

Marching down into the kitchen, swearing that they would all pay for the indignities she’d suffered, she found the servant’s quarters empty, stripped of all their worldly possessions and much of the food emptied from the pantry. Utterly confused, she climbed back up the stairs, shouting for anyone to give her an explanation, when she found the living quarters in worse shape. Furniture was gone, statues and paintings missing, precious metals and gems pried from anything that was too heavy to move.

Panicking, Rapik bolted up the stairs to her personal chambers only to stare in horror at the state of disarray it had been left in. Anything that was easy to lift had been pilfered, though she breathed a sigh of relief when she found that they’d failed to open the paychest. Her artefact weapons had also been left behind thanks to their size which was a small consolation.

“Hello,” a young male voice called out from the floor below, “is anyone there?”

Storming back out of her room and down the steps, Rapik stalked down the corridor towards the entry hall, turned the last corner and ran straight into the armoured chest of a young dragonblood. Staggering back, she held her nose with her eyes screwed shut, dazed for a moment.

“Oh, milady, I’m so sorry,” he apologized profusely, gently touching her elbows in concern, “I didn’t realize you were coming the other way. Are you all right?”

“LISTEN YOU CLUM….” She broke off when she opened her eyes and looked up at his face. He was a young Wood caste of good breeding, the dark green of his hair along with the slightly green tinge of his skin showing his good stock for all to see. It brought out his puppy-like baby blue eyes. He had the strength of a born warrior in his hands, though he held her arms so gently it made her heart ache. After a moment, she realized she was staring and quickly looked away. “I mean… you should watch where you’re going… yes… uh…”

He smiled, making her weak in the knees. “I’m just glad you’re all right, for a moment I thought I might have broken your nose. I’m Iselsi Mithras, are you new here?”

Rapik caught herself smiling back at him and forced her mouth back under control for a moment before the smile returned, like his boyish grin was infectious. Feeling a little dizzy, she rubbed her forehead as her brain tried to process his question. “No… I mean yes, I… I mean, I’m here to visit my uncle, Nellens Rapik,” she lied, to embarrassed to admit what had transpired in the temple. “It’s the furnace still running? Why is it so hot in here?”

He looked confused. “What to you mean, it’s freezing… maybe you should sit down.”

She let him lead her by the hand into the dining room and picked up a chair for her to sit on. While he did, she found herself staring at his behind, which she absently judged to me quite firm and pleasing to the eye… shaking her head, she slumped into the chair he’d offered and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get a grip on herself. Even then, however, there was no escape, the image of those soulful blue eyes burned into her brain, making her stomach flutter. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me,” she apologized.

“No, it’s my fault, you must have taken a nastier bump to your head than I thought,” he said. “So you’re Nellens Rapik’s niece?”

Rapik felt her pulse start to rise from her sudden panic, trying to think fast. “Yes… sorry, I forgot to introduce myself properly, I’m Nellens Kira. My mother sent me out here thinking that some time on the threshold would, you know, be good experience or something.”

“You too? My mother sent me out here thinking I could find a suitable wife,” he muttered.

She stared at him again, realizing that she was staring but unable to look away. Everything about him was fascinating, particularly when he looked sad and lost like he did. “It’s hard when people force you into things you don’t want to do,” she observed.

“Well, it’s not that I wouldn’t like to marry someone,” he admitted, “I mean, we have our duty to the Realm after all. Call me a hopeless romantic but I’d prefer to marry someone I can really care about rather than feel chained to a loveless marriage.”

Gasping a little, Rapik quickly disguised the embarrassing noise by turning it into a cough. “I… I know exactly what you mean,” she breathed, wincing as her nipples poked into her clothing. “Look, ah… what are you doing here? Do you know where all the servants have gone?”

“Oh,” he nodded, shaking his head, “yes, forgive me. Parts of Low Town were destroyed in a fight with some Anathema while most of the dragonblooded in town were out trying to hunt one down. All the mortals in High Town have fled, taking whatever wasn’t nailed down with them. Some of them got back yesterday though they were too late to stop the panic but the men are still in the temple apparently… typical, really, the town is falling down around their heads and all they can think of is whores… though I don’t know what the girls were drinking while they were out hunting… or maybe my own ordeal just opened my eyes to the beauty I’d missed before. Anyway, the Cynis mansion is the only one still operating at full capacity, Tia and the rest are there organizing themselves. They wanted to go after the servants but Agani, that’s the second in command of the Legion forces here in River’s bend, has declared martial law and ordered all dragonbloods to remain on standby.”

“Then, why are you here?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Uh… too many women ordering me about, I had to get away for a bit before they drove me crazy so I took a walk. Then I heard your voice and figured you might need my help… I’m so sorry about running into you like that by the way.”

She smiled at him, reaching out to pat his hand comfortingly. “Don’t worry about it.”

#

Tossing and turning in her bed, Tetsu simply couldn’t sleep despite spending the whole afternoon touring a mere fraction of the Aerie. The enormity of the fortress was almost incomprehensible, extending down the mountain as well as underground. Armies of winged folk, flights of aerial cavalry and a small fleet of airships stood ready at all times to repel a Raksha invasion at the behest of the Swords of Luna. It was the most impressive and fantastic sight that Tetsu had ever seen, though it wasn’t excitement that was keeping her awake.

Getting up, she paced for a while, trying to work off her energy. An hour later, she felt as sprightly as ever and flopped back onto the bed in defeat, her mind wandering to memories of the past. The feel of Feather’s smooth skin under his fingertips, her strangely knowing smile, the taste of her lips…

Feeling uncomfortable, Tetsu looked down to find her nipples visible through her robe. “Just great,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest. Squirming a little, she tried to think of something else but kept drawing a blank. It was hard not to think about the girl she’d seen in the mirror and how that image equated with her own body. Her hips and butt made lying down strange, though not uncomfortable, and it was hard to ignore the breasts since they preceded her wherever she went and jiggled a little with every movement. Curious, she gently touched the bumps on her chest, pressing a little harder when she didn’t feel anything. Jumping suddenly when she felt a sudden jolt of pleasure wash across her skin, she quickly sat on her hands, glancing around the room with wide eyes like a scared kitten.

Needing a distraction, any distraction, Tetsu got up and stormed out of her room, determined to find something to do even if it killed her.

Chapter 19

“What in the all Creation is going on here?” Valdis asked in awe at the scene in Tetsu’s bedroom.

What had once been horribly plain furniture was now carved and decorated with intricate designs that interwove the moon, the sun, roses, birds and humanoid wolves. The bed was covered in tools while the table and floor was strewn with bits and pieces of scrap metal. On the table and sideboard where the fruits of the new woman’s labour, scores of tiny machines that walked, hopped, skipped and spun without any obvious mechanism. Mobiles hung from the ceiling, constantly spinning as little machine creatures flapped and orbited around each other.

Tetsu herself had torn the sleeves of her robe off to allow more freedom of movement and, Valdis suspected, for raw materials. Her hair had been expertly braided and bound with several pieces of unique jewellery. Several ornate bangles and bands also hung from he wrists along with a few necklaces. She was focused on shaping what looked to be a peg for her latest creation on the table, which Valdis couldn’t identify.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Tetsu answered her cheerfully, “your smith was generous to lend me some off-cuts.”

“I… see… I think. You’ve been at this all night? Where the heck did you learn to make things like this?”

Shooting to her feet, Tetsu glared at her. “I DON’T KNOW!”

Valdis took step back. “Woah… ok, Tetsu, we have to talk about this little thing us women like to call menstruation…”

Tetsu slapped herself on the forehead. “No, that’s ok, I know what menstruation is and this isn’t it. I’m sorry, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to work out how I know these things but I just… do it. I mean, I hit a problem and just mull it over a bit and the next thing I know, I’ve got the perfect solution! So I just kept going and going and going.”

“Are you sure you’re ok?” Valdis asked with concern plain in her voice.

“Actually, I feel brilliant. No sleep at all and I’m not even tired, frankly I’d be more scared if I didn’t feel so good. Besides, I think I improved the value of your furniture by about a thousand percent. If I ever need to fund a revolution, I’m opening a furniture store. Was there something you wanted to see me about?”

“Well, it’s dawn,” Valdis informed her, “and since I didn’t get a chance to speak with you yesterday, I thought we could have a bath.”

“A bath?” Tetsu repeated, suddenly looking frazzled. Glancing down at the oily stains on her hands and fingers, she sighed. “Yes, you’re right, I guess I need one.”

“Well, don’t sound so thrilled about it,” Valdis laughed, “come on, let’s get that jewellery off you and grab you a bathrobe.”

Tetsu had seen the baths during the tour Kamaria had given her the day before but they still impressed her. First Age plumbing apparently drew water from deep under the mountain, warmed and purified it for use, after which it was purified again to be returned to the earth. Beyond that, the dark marble walls and carvings of maidens cavorting with fish were lavish and exquisite, bright silver fittings and plaques also provided pleasing decoration as water spilled endlessly into the pools from high above like natural waterfalls. Soft light was provided by the roof overhead which glowed white, yet another wonder of the First Age.

The only problem was that there was no such thing as a private washing area. Though the baths were deserted other than the two of them, Tetsu still felt self conscious as she pulled her hair loose with her robe still on while Valdis quickly disrobed and got down to business. The Lunar wasn’t the most beautiful woman Tetsu had ever seen, Feather alone had several points in her favour and she had to admit that her own body far exceeded Valdis’ in attractiveness. But the Lunar did have that same quality that had first attracted Tetsu’s eye to Feather, the same lithe athleticism and earthy, practical, air that supplemented their natural grace.

Shaking herself, Tetsu turned away from her as she reluctantly disrobed, trying not to look at herself as she considered how she was going to wash without touching anything below the neck. Of course, now she couldn’t think of a single solution.

“You shouldn’t be so shy,” Valdis commented, “you might just be the most beautiful woman in all Creation, not counting the Incarnae.”

Tetsu felt her face go red. “That’s not very comforting,” she grumbled, pushing her own curiosity about her new body aside.

“I’m not trying to tease you, Tetsu,” she said earnestly, “you’re going to hear it a lot, you might as well get used to it. In fact, if you don’t face it things could go very badly for you.”

“I don’t know… how to act,” Tetsu admitted, huffing in frustration as she continued to disrobe. “It’s hard to explain. I… knew how to be scar-faced Tetsu. I knew how to be Tetsu the Wanderer too. I don’t know how to be… this.”

Valdis stopped soaping up her skin for a moment as she considered her companion. “Kamaria’s right, you do sound like a young Lunar. Changing shape comes naturally to us but different forms can present some interesting challenges and pose questions about personal identity. I know what you’re trying to say, it’s like you’ve been wearing some old and familiar masks, roles that you fall into easily. Now you have a totally new mask that makes people act strange around you. Suddenly people are looking at you differently and you don’t know what’s going on in their heads.”

Tetsu blinked, turning around to look at the woman as if seeing her for the first time. “Actually, yes, I feel that way all the time. But then sometimes I know exactly what they’re thinking when they look at me.”

“And that’s my point; you’re going to have to accept that you’re attractive if you’re going to deal with that. I remember the first time I took male form things were similar. I had trouble walking comfortably, so I walked bow legged.” She paused to laugh at the memory for a moment before continuing. “So come on, you might as well start soaping up so we can wash off and get in the pool.”

After a long dissertation on washing long hair and the proper care of a female body, Tetsu was glad to get under one of the waterfalls to rinse herself off, particularly after Valdis insisted that they wash each other’s backs. Though, she did have to admit to herself that the whole process was very relaxing. Sinking into the bathing pool, Tetsu sighed contentedly as the warmth sank into her muscles, forcing them to relax.

“I could get addicted to this,” Tetsu commented as Valdis entered the water, spreading out her arms along the edge of the pool.

Valdis grinned, slipping up to her neck in the water. “I figured this would be good for you. Kamaria told me you weren’t… acclimatising too well. When I saw you surrounded by all those toys, I thought you’d gone crazy.”

“Ok, I admit, it was a little crazy,” Tetsu shrugged. “I’m not used to staying awake for nearly twenty four hours without so much as a yawn… besides, I needed to keep my hands busy.”

“Oh?” Valdis asked, smelling blood. “And exactly what did you have to keep your hands from doing, hmmm?”

“No, it’s not like that!” Tetsu protested. After a short pause, she sighed, blushing deep red. “Ok, maybe it is a little like that. I can’t look in the mirror, I can’t look down and every time I touch myself I’m afraid something might explode… not that I’ve tried touching myself like that… not that I want to, just casually… you know what I mean.”

Nodding, Valdis swam a little closer. “So you haven’t tried touching yourself like that?”

Tetsu made a face. “Of course not!”

“Why not?”

Confused, Tetsu’s brain tried to come up with an answer and failed her yet again. “Because… it’s not… I’m not… and it… maybe if… no, I don’t… I mean, I just can’t! It’s… it’s not right.”

“Why not, it’s your body,” Valdis told her, pulling herself up to sit on the step next to Tetsu. “The first time I changed into a male form, I did and I’m glad I did too. It opened up a whole new world of experience to me; honestly I kind of pity the Lunars who can’t bring themselves to learn the Knack. Not to mention all the mortals who’ll never now how the other gender thinks and feels.”

“Maybe,” Tetsu said, though her tone sounded more like it was a refusal as she looked away. The sudden feel of Valdis’ hand on her thigh made Tetsu jump and shiver at the same time, surprise mixed with pleasure and relief making her gasp. “Wh-what are you doing?”

Leaning in close, Valdis closed the remaining distance between them, warm, soft, skin brushing gently together. “Just relax,” she whispered, “go with it for a little while. Trust me; you won’t want me to stop.”

The way her hand felt as it slid up her body under the water, Tetsu believed her. Leaning back against the edge of the pool, she tried to gather the will to say no but all of her protests came out in little, incoherent, gasps. Valdis’ lips on her neck made Tetsu’s thighs clench together as she balled her hands into fists, electric sensation crawling down her spine. When the hand reached her breast, she squeaked as the Lunar’s damp thumb massaged her erect nipple, the brief moment of shocking pleasure that she’d felt before extended into a long wave of ecstasy.

“Gods!” Tetsu gasped, feeling a strange ache building between her legs.

“You’re very sensitive for a woman,” Valdis commented as she continued her ministrations, “no wonder; it must have been quite frightening.”

Moaning as Valdis’ lips worked their way down her body; Tetsu felt a moment of loss and anger as she pulled away. “No, don’t stop, I’m fine…”

“Trust me,” Valdis said with a wicked grin, several slits like fish gills suddenly opening along the sides of her neck as she pushed Tetsu’s thighs apart before slipping completely under the water. It took a moment for Tetsu’s pleasure-numbed mind to consider what she might be intending but the moment it occurred to her, something else happened.

Tetsu’s back arched and her eyes rolled back into her head as a gush of warm water was blown between her legs, turning her bones to jelly. It was all she could do to clutch the edge of the pool and breathe as she rode the wave of bliss that rolled through her, burning all thoughts and worries away. By the time Valdis rose from the water, the Solar was nothing but a quivering heap, pleasured beyond sensibility.

Licking her lips as she looked down at the most beautiful woman she’d ever laid eyes on, Valdis’ body began to harden. Her breasts shrank as her pectoral muscles bulged and flexed, her areolas shrinking to tight buds. As her hips shrank, her shoulders broadened and her waist became thicker, muscles rippling under her skin. The smooth lines of her face became slightly more angular with a broader jawline and slightly heavier eyebrows. Most significantly, her clitoris thickened, extending from underneath her hood as a scrotum bloomed from the slit underneath, large balls dropping into the sack of skin from inside her.

Stretching, Valdis stroked the hard member that jutted out from his hips like a flag pole, looking down at Tetsu as her naked breasts rose and fell with her deep, heaving, breaths. “Kamaria taught me that move,” he whispered as he bent over her, his hands reaching under the water to caress her thighs, “it’s a thing the merfolk do.” She shuddered again when he licked her nipple with his long, prehensile, tongue, sliding her feet up and down his legs as she moaned.

“Gods, yes,” Tetsu gasped, one hand rubbing her other breast while the other slid down her stomach, “please, more.”

Not one to disappoint a lady, Valdis teased her lower lips with the tip of his member before pushing it inside, making her gasp and shudder all over again even as he moaned a little himself. “Oh… oh, yes, you feel so good,” he grunted, hardly able to control himself as her body accepted him completely.

As he moved, Valdis realized that there was something very different about this woman, beyond merely her sublime appearance. Every one of his thrusts made him shudder in near-orgasm, her inner walls massaging him expertly. Just when he thought he was about to orgasm, her outer lips would clamp down like a vice, delaying him for just long enough to continue. Beyond though or care, not even conscious of what she was doing, Tetsu rode him enthusiastically. Her legs wrapped around his waist to prevent him from leaving as she met his thrusts with her own, every inch of her alight as her mind transcended to a state of epiphany. Their mutual climax brought both of them screaming to the edge of sweet oblivion before Valdis collapsed on top of her.

Consciousness returned slowly, though Tetsu struggled to remain basking in the afterglow. A craving that had been nagging at the back of her mind since first waking up in the Aerie was finally satisfied and nothing else seemed to matter, even when she looked down to find a strange man’s face nestled between her breasts. Sliding her fingers through his hair, she squirmed a little as she remembered the feel of him between her legs…

Suddenly it all struck her all at once. Screaming, she kicked him off of her, sending Valdis flying across the pool with her obscene strength. Standing up, she stalked him through the water with a murderous glint in her eye, wishing she had something sharp handy as he rose coughing and spluttering from the water.

“Ok, ok, wait a minute Tetsu,” he said, holding his hands out to ward her off, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to go that far…”

He dodged out of the way of her punch, which shattered one of the marble tiles behind where he’d been standing.

“Yes, I know,” he continued, backing away as she pulled her arm out of the wall, “it was a bad idea, I’m sorry, I was just trying to help.”

“You!” Tetsu growled like she was possessed by a demon, striding forward as if the water was nothing.

In his fright, he backed into the steps of the pool and tripped, grunting as he landed on his tailbone. The hesitation was all she needed to pounce, grabbing his neck as she stood over him, pulling her fist back for a telling blow…

She stopped. Several expressions crossed her face from hatred and anger to fear and disgust. Her muscles trembled from the tension she was holding in check. Finally, she let him go and stepped away, climbing out of the bath and walking numbly over to collect her bathrobe. Leaving him there, gasping for breath, Tetsu dried herself off before wrapping the garment around her and leaving, wanting to be anywhere else.

Kamaria was sitting on her bed when she returned to her room, looking concerned as she walked in. “I thought I was going to teach you about clothes today… but I’m gad you decided to take a bath…”

“Valdis came and took me down,” Tetsu said flatly, hugging her shoulders, “we had sex.”

It took a moment for what she said to register. “Wait, what?” Kamaria asked. “You had sex with Valdis? My Valdis?”

Tetsu winced at the Lunar’s possessive use of ‘my’. “We were in the bath, I was all relaxed, she started… then the next thing I knew…”

Rubbing her forehead, Kamaria groaned. “I swear I’m going to kill her, please tell me it was consensual.”

“I believe my exact words were ‘gods yes, please more’,” Tetsu gulped, blushing from head to toe.

“Not death, then,” Kamaria declared, her eyes narrow, “just a severe beating.”

Shaking her head, Tetsu cleared off part of her bed to sit down, slumping. “It’s not her fault; I’m as much to blame. It felt really good and I just didn’t want it to end, I needed it so bad… is that what normal girls feel like?”

Kamria frowned. “Something tells me you felt it a lot more strongly than most girls.”

“So I’m not just a woman, I’m a nymphomaniac,” Tetsu stated in a dead monotone.

Putting her arm over Tetsu’s shoulder, Kamaria hugged her. “Valdis is an idiot who can’t resist either a beautiful woman or a handsome man. Truthfully, I should have seen this coming and put a stop to it, there was no way she was going to leave you alone.”

“I just… can’t hate him… her… whatever,” Tetsu confessed, squirming a little. “My skin’s still tingling.”

“And what do you think about that?”

Her brow furrowed as she pondered the question for a few moments. “I used to like girls,” she said, slowly working her way through the question in her mind. “But that felt… better. Maybe it’s just the way Luna made me but… now that it’s over, I kind of miss it. I mean, I know it’s supposed to hurt the first time but it didn’t hurt at all. I just don’t know what to think, I’m so confused.”

Sighing, Kamaria held her for a long time as she considered what to say. “You remind me of myself when I was an adolescent girl and I dare say just about every girl goes through something like this, usually before they have sex though. What am I doing, why does this feel good, how should I feel about this… I thought for a long time about those same questions and I don’t think I really found a satisfactory answer until after I exalted. What I came to realize, Tetsu, is that appearances have power. I saw that in you the first time we met, the way you used your scars as a barrier between yourself and the world. I’ve worn the face of a monster and used it the same way but then I’ve also taken the role of a courtesan and learned to wield another kind of power.”

“You’re saying this is about survival,” Tetsu surmised.

“I’m saying that this is a trial. You either learn from it and grow stronger or wither and die. Luna may be chaotic but she abhors torture and seeing everything that you’ve done just in a day I can’t help but think she’s made you far stronger than any new exalt has a right to be. She wouldn’t have given you these gifts if she didn’t have faith in you.”

Looking down at her hands, Tetsu flexed them as she silently considered Kamaria’s words. Turning back to the Lunar with dry eyes, she nodded. “I think it’s time we talked about clothes.”

Smiling, Kamaria ran her finger’s through Tetsu’s long hair. “That a girl.”

#

“Due to the extraordinary circumstances surrounding this situation, it has been decided that Shining Feather will not be immediately recalled to Yu Shan,” Uvanavu explained. “Moreover, Kano, the new Pristine Boyar of Vanity, will also remain until this situation is resolved. We have also agreed to acquiesce to Sanejin’s demands… and you can tell that pompous dung beetle ball that plenty of us, including myself, are just dying to get our hands on him.”

“If you can tell us, what was he exiled for?” Feather asked.

“Conspiring with the Yozis,” Uvanavu muttered as if the words themselves were distasteful. “He betrayed the Incarnae and everything we fought for against the Primordials… not that there was any proof that he did so willingly. That’s what earned him exile rather than swift annihilation.”

“Does that mean the Yozis could be involved now?” Kano asked nervously.

“Doubtful,” Feather answered, shaking her head, “they need to work through a cult or sorcerer just to gain access to Creation. They could have taught someone the charm that killed Cathak Markul and snarled the Loom but then who used the charm? Sanejin’s out, I doubt he could learn a charm like that. No, our prime suspects are still either the Solars or the Abyssals. My bet’s on the Abyssals.”

“By the way, Ura pulled a few favours with the Division of Secrets in reference to this ‘Iron Tiger’,” Uvanavu said. “While we weren’t able to dig up what it might be, we did come up with a name: The Resplendent Iron Tiger That Swallows the Sun.”

“Well that sounds remarkably ominous,” Feather muttered to herself.

“Indeed. I’ll expect another report tomorrow,” the god said as his image faded away.

Quickly walking into the next room with Kano close behind her, Feather pulled a chair out from under the central table in Sanejin’s private dining room and sat, motioning for Kano to sit next to her. Across from that table, what remained of Sanejin still wheezed, blackened skin now pulled taught over bone. “Your new appointment has been approved; now tell us what you know.”

“Assign my new appointment first,” he rasped the demand.

“No,” Feather refused. “If you don’t feel like sharing your information with us then the deal is off. I suppose I could say that I don’t trust you to tell us anything after you receive your reward but the truth is I just don’t like you. So talk.”

He groaned, weakly clutching the arms of his chair. “Very well,” he finally agreed. “After my exile a bit over a millennia ago, I came here because I knew of this place from before the Usurpation. I knew the legends and I knew the power that had been lost. The Lunars were still hiding out in the Wyld, so I was able to take this manse with relative ease despite local troublemakers like Menji stirring up the populace.”

“Did you order Menji’s death?”

“No,” he answered, slowly shaking his head. “Menji was clever but he lacked power, I had no reason to kill him. Bloodshed is only useful when it serves to prove a point; anything else is a waste of resources. Also, Menji knew more about the Trove than I did so I stood to profit by keeping an eye on him. On top of that, I had my hands full finding out what I could about the Trove and trying to piece together its location. Eventually, I gave up, without a major breakthrough nobody was going to crack the mystery, though I knew from the histories that the Gnomon had to be the key.

Instead, I concentrated on building my little empire. Back then, River’s Bend was a simple fishing village and a few outlying farms built by the few inhabitants of Makota City that were too stubborn to move to greener pastures. Using the Water of Eternal Perfection to start a brothel was my own ingenious idea and based on that alone I turned that little village into a resort town for the new dragonblooded nobility… a venture that was not only profitable but had a fortuitous side effect.”

“Fortuitous how?”

“Silver was rolling in,” Sanejin explained, “but I needed something more if I was ever going to achieve my ultimate goal of carving my own nation out here in the East. The Trove was lost, I’d resigned myself to that, but instead I set my sights on breeding my own army.”

“The maiden tea is just for show? You let your girls get pregnant on the off chance that a few of them will exalt?”

“More precisely, I kept the maiden tea for when my girls serviced a mortal and made them drink another herb that greatly increases their fertility for when they lie with the exalted,” he said, smiling, “in fact, most of the ‘maiden tea’ in the temple has been replaced with this second drug for convenience, so that the dragonbloods don’t get suspicious.”

Feather thought about the maiden tea she’d drank just after making love to Tetsu for the first time and her stomach sank, though her face remained impassive. “So you started breeding an army of Terrestrial exalted, yet you’d given up on the Trove?”

“The Oracle forged three keys to open the Trove,” Sanejin snarled, “and the location of the lock cannot be found without the Gnomon. All of these things were lost to the mists of time, the Oracle’s lieutenants fled to the far corners of Creation to keep the keys safe. Instead, I used the Trove as a distraction from my own activities.”

“And yet, I don’t see an army of Terrestrials knocking down our door to rescue you,” Feather observed, “what went wrong?”

“I’m getting to that. Two things went catastrophically wrong at about the same time: The Guild and Kano’s mother, Lilias Seki. I was running a successful resort brothel catering to the nobility of Greyfalls, naturally the Guild wanted their cut so they started putting me under pressure, threatening to expose me to the Immaculates. We played a game of cat and mouse for years and then the young Lilias Seki was orphaned and Menji took her in. When she fell in love and Menji played along with her affections to the point where they were eventually married, I knew I’d been given a chance to hold something he valued hostage.”

“This isn’t news,” Kano muttered darkly.

“It gets better. I quickly discovered that going after Lilias alone didn’t push Menji’s buttons. Once Kano was born, however, I was able to coerce her away from Menji’s side by threatening her son. She took Kano’s place, eventually giving birth to your half brother, Mamo.”

Kano’s jaw dropped but she quickly covered her open mouth with her hand. “Mamo’s my brother? Why didn’t he tell me…”

“I doubt Mamo feels much for anything or anyone anymore,” Sanejin continued. “I lost what little hold I’d gained on your father with Lilias’ death so naturally I replaced her with you. Not that it availed me anything, Menji stubbornly refused to so much as lift a finger for me no matter what I threatened. While this was happening, Red Wolf and White Crane began to terrorize the village as bandits on behest of the Guild. With them came the agents of the All-Seeing Eye, the Realm’s secret police who wanted to stick their noses into everyone’s business. Of the two threats, the All-Seeing Eye was easier to nullify, their attempts at infiltrating the village half hearted at best. The Guild and their patsies were another matter; they were just too well funded to get rid of, so I started paying them off. Eventually they moved in and I was stuck with them. By happenstance, I learned that Red Wolf had a fondness for young boys, so I was able to palm Kano here off on him and eventually Mamo when Kano got too old…”

“Again with the history lesson everyone knows,” Kano snarled.

“Here’s the part you don’t know. Two years ago, Mamo tried to assassinate Red Wolf, White Crane and I by strapping pouches of explosive powder stolen from the mines to his chest. Fortunately for us the device was flawed and failed to detonate; Red Wolf beat him severely and had him thrown in a cell to await his sadistic tortures. When we returned to him the next day, instead of Mamo lying on the floor, we found what appeared to be a gigantic seed made of opal or perhaps obsidian. We didn’t understand what we were baring witness to and I doubt those two fools ever did grasp the full extent of it. The shell was impervious to any blandishment but when I came back five days later, it had been shattered from the inside and left empty.

Later, Mamo told me that as he lay in that cell, he was visited by a shadow in the shape of a man. That shadow offered him power. Naturally, being my son, he accepted without question. In that moment the shadow merged with him, forming the cocoon around him from its own essence to protect them as they melded together. Mamo became something far more than mortal.”

Feather rolled her eyes. “It doesn’t sound like your ususal Akuma pact but the result of Yozi meddling is always the same.”

“Not this time,” Sanejin disagreed, “when Mamo returned he was no longer the boy he’d been before… that was months later. In the meantime, I’d managed to leverage the enlightened mortals into an alliance against the Guild, who we were convinced I had a hand in providing Mamo with the explosive power and perhaps his escape. It turned out to be a boon since I was able to play my enemies off of one another constantly. When Mamo returned I was shocked.

With him came the attention of someone whom I have never met, though I suspect Mamo truly works alone for his mysterious ‘patrons’ as he calls them. Of course, I know the stench of the Yozis when I smell it, or at least one of their cults. His power, however, was simply awe inspiring. One meeting with Red Wolf had the fool eating out of the palm of his hand. I’ll be frank with you, I was scared of Mamo. Within a year, he’d co-opted all my business interests, leaving me alive only to manage the operation. Then he used Red Wolf and White Crane to subjugate Low Town in order to provide him with a steady stream of women, forcing me to control them with my power so they’d become obedient whores.”

“You were doing that before,” Kano argued.

“Not to the scale where I’d stripped Low Town of every female,” he countered. “I fought to give the lower class males what little access to breeding stock I could swing in order to keep the population stable and under control. Mamo wanted more potential terrestrials, that’s all he cares about.”

“Still not seeing why we’re not being invaded by an army of dragonblooded right now,” Feather muttered.

Scowling, Sanejin struggled to lean forward. “Mamo doesn’t care about me or even this operation. I’ve been building this army slowly for hundreds of years; he has the army he needs, this temple is no longer of use to him. Besides, the little runt hasn’t been right in the head since his change and he answers to other masters with mad plots of their own. He keeps the children out of sight somewhere in the tunnels under Makota City, there’s a training facility there. I can’t give you the exact location, he relocates the site from time to time but I can tell you where to start looking. More importantly, I have to urge you not to underestimate what Mamo has become. I’ve encountered Akuma before and Mamo’s powers are far beyond those pathetic puppets…”

“I’m sorry,” Kano interrupted, “but are we talking about the same Mamo?”

“He only allows a few people to see his other side,” Sanejin smirked, “in fact, as far as I know I was his only confidante. Red Wolf thought he was in charge but Mamo had her domesticated and he didn’t even know it. He is insidious, cunning and utterly devoid of compassion, I’d examine your conversations with him carefully for hidden subtext and agendas. Particularly you, Kano, his former half-brother; perverting and destroying you would have been a game to him but now he’d want you for different pursuits. Ever since he returned, he’s been obsessed with finding a woman he can wed. In fact, I thought to placate and distract him with one of my girls but he uses them up and discards them the moment they fail to live up to his standards. Of course, that’s where I got the idea of creating my own perfect bride, so perhaps his madness is even infectious.”

“Speaking of which, Tetsu went to investigate something before you…” Kano’s trailed off as Sanejin interrupted her question by producing what appeared to be a golden sundial from thin air, dropping it onto the table with a grunt of effort.

“This is the Gnomon,” he explained, “Tetsu retrieved it. I tricked him into giving an oath to me that he wouldn’t hand it over to anyone who would use it for their own ends… I didn’t intend to myself but I would have handed it over to Mamo, I took advantage of his weakness to subdue him. It’s said that the Gnomon can find anything that the user desires but from what I can see it does nothing. I don’t know how to activate it.”

Picking the artefact up, Feather turned it over in her hands. “Well, at least this gives us a lead. Naturally, you’re still confined to quarters until this whole situation is resolved and we escort you back to Yu Shan. I’ll also expect you to be available for further questioning at any time.”

“What about my new appointment?” he asked, anxiousness plain in his voice.

Feather smirked, producing a scroll from the sleeve of her robe. “Well, Uvanavu and I discussed the vacancies in the Department of Health and really there’s only one available of a high enough station…”

Looking down as the Sidereal unfurled the scroll for him, he scowled. “No, that is not acceptable.”

“Can I see?” Kano asked politely as she took the scroll and read it over. A grin broke out on her face. “Oh, that is just perfect for you, Saneya,” she teased.

“Unacceptable!” Sanejin snapped. “Find another appointment.”

“The next highest vacancy would be ‘God of Human Excrement Disposal’,” Feather said with false regret, “I hear in his last incarnation, he was depicted as licking human colons clean.”

Shuddering, Sanejin looked lost and indecisive, horror in his eyes as they darted back and forth between Feather and the scroll.

“Well, then, why don’t you mull it over for a while?” Feather suggested, picking up the Gnomon and turning her back on him. “Let me know when you’re ready…”

“NO! Wait… I’ll sign,” he sighed, giving up. “Hand me the pen.”

#

It was hard for Tetsu not to fidget with her new robe as she waited to be called in to Adra Bloodmoon’s throne room. The outfit Kamaria had helped her select for the occasion was purple silk with gold trim and silver embroidery, the predominant colour contrasting well with her skin while the silver and gold provided harmonizing influences. It was fastened around her waist by a wide black Obi decorated with a spray of light blue flowers along with a cascade of red ribbons at her hip. More red ribbons bound her hair in a high ponytail, though the tips of her flowing locks still reached her waistline.

They’d learned quickly that matching her eye colour was futile, since it changed depending on her mood. In the end, it was decided that the application of simple dark kohl to her eyelids would draw attention to the oddity combined with traditional crimson lipstick. It was basic but Tetsu felt she understood the reasoning behind her choices, which was a good start.

She couldn’t help that her thoughts kept wondering back to her time with Valdis in the bathhouse, which made her skin tingle every time. Any notion of self disgust was drowned under a tsunami of curiosity and desire. Saying that she didn’t want to feel that way again would be a lie.

“You’re frowning again,” Kamaria pointed out to her.

“I just… can’t help thinking about Valdis,” she admitted. “I don’t want to but…”

“Try to put it from your mind for now,” Kamaria suggested tenderly, “the body wills what it wills but it’s up to the mind to master the body. Not that I’m saying you should become chaste, far from it, just that you need time to get used to the idea.”

Nodding absently, Tetsu tried to shunt those thoughts aside but it was hard when there were nothing else to think or do while they waited. “What do women talk about amongst themselves?”

Kamaria chuckled. “I may not be the best judge of that but in my experience, usually relationships, sex, clothes and food. If they share an occupation or hobby, it will come up. That’s amongst mortals, of course, dragonblooded women aren’t distinct from the males, all they talk about is rank and politics. Amongst the Lunars, well, gender is a matter of personal preference.”

Tetsu’s brow furrowed. “How do you deal with that? Most societies I’ve ever encountered have a fairly strict interpretation of gender roles.”

“We’re strongly individualistic as I told you before, so we define ourselves and our appearance according to our own whims. For some, gender is important as they identify themselves strongly one way or the other. For others, like Valdis, gender has nothing to do with who we are, just how we choose to express ourselves. Personally, I identify with being feminine more strongly and Valdis seems to prefer female shape which suits us both.”

“So how did you and Valdis meet?”

Kamaria grinned. “Trying to talk relationships?”

Blushing, Tetsu scratched the back of her neck. “I’m trying not to think about this morning.”

She was about to say more when the door opened and a winged human male wearing scholar’s robes opened the door and motioned for them. “Elder Bloodmoon has summoned you.”

Getting up, Tetsu took several deep breaths as Kamaria took her elbow and led her inside. The throne room wasn’t as grandiose as she was expecting, in fact the plain stonework lacked the opulence of even the Aerie’s own baths. In fact, the austerity of the room lent it an air of authority and honesty that Tetsu had found to be absent in most governing bodies. Tiered rows of empty chairs flanked either side of the floor, which led from the main doors to the throne at the other end in which the Elder sat. Part way up the steps that led to the throne stood a tall, muscular, man whose tanned skin contrasted well with his silver tattoos. Tetsu snarled inwardly at herself when his lantern jaw and proudly defiant gaze made her stomach flutter.

“Elder Bloodmoon,” Kamaria greeted with a respectful bow. “Tetsu, allow me to introduce Madrin Alfar, Admiral of the Wing of Silver Fire. Admiral, this is Tetsu, Eclipse Caste of the Solar Exalted.”

“Admiral,” Tetsu greeted with a polite bow.

“Tetsu,” the Admiral responded with a slight inclination of his head. “I’m told that you may have discovered a cache of First Age weaponry to the northwest.”

“On the contrary,” Tetsu replied cagily, “I’ve merely found indications and uncovered rumours, I cannot vouch for their veracity.”

“Even so, I demand that you share with us everything you know,” he stated intensely, “with such an arsenal, the Swords of Luna could secure the entirety of the East from the Raksha, maybe even strike at the Opal Court and take back Thorns from Mask of Winters.

“Elder?” Kamaria asked, looking up at her mentor.

“The Admiral has agreed that the temple and surrounding lands would be best kept by the Crossroads Society,” Adra answered, “an I agree that such weapons would be best placed in the hands of the Swords of Luna.”

“We cannot allow either Greyfalls or the Deathlords to gain this power,” Madrin expounded, “only the Silver Pact has the wisdom and foresight to use it responsibly.”

“I doubt anyone has the qualities to use the Oracle’s Trove responsibly,” Tetsu retorted. “Tell me, after you pacify the Raksha and Thorns, what then? Destroy Greyfalls? Conquer the Blessed Isle? If you’re an Admiral, I must assume that you answer to someone, can you guarantee their motivations as well? If not you, what about your eventual successor? There are far too many variables for anyone to claim ‘wisdom’ in this matter and the consequences are far too dire. Why can’t any of you see that letting sleeping dragons lie may be the best course of action?”

“As long as it exists, the discovery of the Trove is inevitable. Would you prefer it to fall into the hands of the Realm so they can destroy all the progress we’ve made over the last thousand years? The time of you Solars is long past, maybe in a few hundred years you’ll be able to make yourselves useful but right now you would be well advised to stay out of our way.”

“Damn it, there are civilians in River’s Bend!” Tetsu protested. “You’re talking about starting a war!”

“If it’s a choice between a handful of mortals or the entire East, I will pick the entire East,” he replied.

Tetsu was about to retort when a scuffle at the main doors caught everyone’s attention. “Ma’am, I must protest!” the winged man in the scholar’s robe shouted as he was pushed aside by a petite young woman who was only as tall as his shoulders. She was slender but walked with sinuous grace, barely covered by a set of moonsilver jewellery that consisted of a halter, loincloth, bracers, anklets and a tiara inset with gemstones. Her hair was jet black and loose, tickling her bare ankles as she walked; her skin light gold and her dark, alluring, eyes upturned in the corners. Her silver tattoos curled around her body like entwined serpents, matching the way she moved perfectly. Quailing slightly as she stalked towards her, Tetsu braced herself and glared back as the girl’s literally reptilian eyes fixed her in place.

The last thing Tetsu expected her to do was pounce, darting forward like a striking cobra, the girl’s arms were suddenly clutching Tetsu’s back as their lips met. Stunned, the Solar froze with indecision as a long, forked, tongue darted into her mouth, not even knowing where she should place her hands. Pulling away, the girl smiled beatifically, enraptured as she rested her head on Tetsu’s shoulder. “My love,” she whispered, “I’ve finally found you. I swear I’ll never let you go.”

“Wh… wha… wha…” Tetsu gasped, trying to formulate a sentence.

Blushing furiously like every other Lunar in the room, Elder Bloodmoon coughed to draw attention. “Tetsu, allow me to present Pensri Cascabel, a Lunar of the Changing Moon caste and member of the Sun King Seneschals.”

“And, as it turns out,” Pensri sighed joyously as she snuggled against Tetsu’s chest, “your Lunar mate.”

“Lunar… mate?” Tetsu asked, wild eyed.

Kamaria grimaced. “It’s not like you’re betrothed or anything…”

“Yet,” Pensri interjected.

“…but when Solar and Lunar exaltations were created our incarnae… paired us together so that we would always have at least one boon companion to ground us in reality.”

Pensri pulled away but kept her hand possessively on Tetsu’s wrist. “What these stick-in-the-muds aren’t saying is that it was Luna’s will that we serve and guide our mates as part of our divine responsibility to protect Creation.”

“Luna please preserve us,” Kamaria swore, rubbing her forehead and blushing furiously.

“Oh, I think she knows what she’s doing, Kamaria,” Pensri bubbled, “I told you she led me here and look where we are now.”

“Wait,” Tetsu said, confounded, “if we’re ‘mated’, shouldn’t I feel something?”

“That’s not how it works,” Adra muttered bitterly.

“Only the Lunar feels the connection,” Pensri explained, “it’s like the idea of destined lovers finding one another, you meet ‘the one’ and it just clicks that this is who you’re supposed to devote yourself to forever. If you think I’m lying, there are certain charms that can use our bond for certain benefits…”

“Like Lunar Taming Leash?” Madrin asked sarcastically.

Pensri snarled at him. “Unlike SOME Lunars, she will never need to use that on me because I know where my loyalties lie!”

“Woah, there,” Tetsu comforted, putting her hand on the girl’s shoulder, “I don’t want to start a fight. Maybe we’d be better off continuing this conversation another time?”

Madrin looked like he was about to say something but Adra cut him off. “You’re right, this isn’t the time for an interrogation. We can return to this topic tomorrow, once all of us have had a chance to cool down.”

The Admiral obviously didn’t like it but bowed to Adra’s seniority. Pensri grasped Tetsu’s arm like she was glued to it, walking side by side with the Solar as Kamaria led them out. “Could you please let go of me for a bit,” Tetsu begged, not knowing how to deal with her.

“No,” she refused, snuggling closer with a wicked smile on her face.

“I thought Sun King Seneschals were supposed to obey their Solar masters,” Kamaria commented in a flat tone.

“We’re supposed to do what’s best for them,” Pensri explained patiently, “and what’s best for her right now if for me to stay by her side.”

“I don’t know you,” Tetsu protested.

“All the more reason for me to stay close so we can get to know each other,” she said cheerfully. “We’re going to be together a long time, so it’ll be good to get a head start.”

“Do you even know Tetsu’s name?” Kamaria asked, exasperated.

“I do now!”

When they reached Tetsu’s room, Pensri finally let go and jumped inside, fascinated by the little machines Tetsu had built the night before which still moved under their own power. Turning to Kamaria, Tetsu gave her a long suffering sigh. “I better talk to her, if you have something else to do…”

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Kamaria agreed, patting Tetsu on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

Watching her leave, Tetsu waited until she was out of sight before closing the door and throwing the bolt. Quickly making her way outside, she made a bee line for the stairs down only to jump halfway out of her skin to find Pensri glaring at Tetsu with her hands on her hips when the Solar turned the corner. “What do you think you’re doing?” the Lunar asked with justified indignation.

“I… look, I don’t know you,” Tetsu explained patiently, putting her hands on her own hips. “I don’t know if you’re legitimate, crazy or some sort of spy.”

“So you thought you’d lock me in your room then what? That totally doesn’t make any sense unless…”

“Unless what?” Tetsu asked when the girl trailed off.

“Well, unless you were planning to escape from the Aerie… what were you and Madrin talking about anyway?”

Scratching the back of her neck, Tetsu realised that the girl standing in front of him was too smart for her own good. “Well, it seems I might know something about a cache of First Age weapons which the Swords of Luna would like to get their hands on.”

She frowned. “But those belong to the Solar that stashed them away… he or she will be coming back for them now, they don’t belong to the Lunars.”

“I don’t particularly care who they belong to,” Tetsu muttered, “but it seems to me, whoever gets their hands on them will be dead set on starting a war that could tear apart the East. I’m not going to allow that to happen.”

“Right,” she nodded, “then we need to find your Solar friends and get you all out of here before Madrin does something he’ll regret. Come on, they’re in the courtyard.”

Blinking stupidly, having never actually had anyone who could keep up with her thought processes at all, Tetsu followed as Pensri dragged her helplessly along. When they reached the courtyard, they found all the Solars gathered there again, though this time Messia was busy punching a manikin with focussed determination while Cheekchik stood watching her.

“Tetsu,” Aten greeted curtly from his seat next to Ogren, “who’s the new Lunar?”

Pensri bowed to him. “Hi, I’m Pensri Cascabel, Tetsu’s Lunar mate, pleased to meet you.”

Walking over to Cheekchik, Tetsu smiled disarmingly at him. “Hi, Cheepchik, I just wanted to apologize to you.”

He cocked his eagle-head to once side, curious. “What for, dear lady.”

Striking with blinding speed, her finger hit his pressure point precisely, rendering him unconscious. Catching him, she eased his body to the ground. “About that,” she sighed, turning to the rest of the group. “I hate to push you all but we have to leave. Right now.”

Ogren stood up and started sheathing all his weapons. “Who started the war?”

“No war yet,” Tetsu sighed, “but the Swords of Luna know about the Oracle’s Trove, they’re calling first dibs. I don’t know about you guys but I’m not prepared to face an Elder, at least three Lunars and an entire fleet all at once.”

“What about her?” Ogren asked, pointing his thumb at Pensri.

“I’m on her side,” Pensri said, pointing at Tetsu.

“You know the old adage about keeping your friends close,” Tetsu sighed.

“If we’re going to escape, we’ll need this,” Aten said, producing a scroll from his sleeve and presenting it to Tetsu. Unrolling it, the Eclipse quickly scanned the document. “I, Adra Bloodmoon, hereby authorize the barer of this document,” Tetsu read aloud. “Wait, this is a requisition order for an airship.”

“Always have an exit strategy,” Aten said, shrugging.

“What harbourmaster is going to look at this, take one look at us and just hand over an airship?”

Half an hour later, Ogren surreptitiously dropped a handful of jade Obols into the harbourmaster’s hand, thanked the winged man and boarded their new ship as Tetsu looked on from the railing aghast. “Seriously, you call this a fortress?”

Ogren chuckled as he pulled in the gang plank and cast off. “No, I call this the civilian base of a private army. They talk a great deal and have lots of fighting experience against Wyld beasts and Raksha but frankly they know bugger all about how real armies operate. On top of that, they’ve got no idea how real pirates operate either, speaking of which I have to take the helm.”

Watching the Dawn caste stride off, grinning like a schoolboy with a new toy, Tetsu turned back to watch as the space between the airship and the dock grew larger by the second. “This is far too easy,” she muttered to herself.

Pensri leant against the railing next to her. “That’s because Valdis and Kamaria are hiding behind the barrels over there in mouse form.”

Tetsu blinked. “What?”

“You think I’m the only person that could work out your next move?”

Glancing over her shoulder at the barrels but couldn’t see anything. “Are you sure?”

“Regular mice don’t have black feathers on their heads when you’re really looking at them,” Pensri chuckled. “Don’t worry, they won’t be working for Madrin; this smells like Elder Bloodmoon’s gambit.”

“Bloodmoon?” Tetsu whispered. “Why would Bloodmoon even let us steal the airship?”

“She’s Crossroads Society,” Pensri said as if that explained everything. “Loops within loops, wheels within wheels; never say anything with one word when ten will do and make sure you’ve got an ace in your back pocket just in case. Also, next time you run into an Elder that’s been around almost since the Usurpation, always assume they’re three steps ahead of you in every direction. Madrin doesn’t seem to have learnt that one, bless his heart, Adra’s got him on a short leash and he doesn’t even know it. I’m hungry, I’m going to see what sort of food they’ve got on this crate.”

Staring at the girl as she walked away, Tetsu had to wonder exactly how deep she was sinking and if anyone was around to throw her a rope.

#

As the wagon pulled up to the front door, the madame of Red Wolf Brothel stormed out to meet it. “What by all of Malfeas are you doing here? We’re not expecting another delivery for days!”

Stepping out of the back, Anko smiled. “Please don’t fret, Sasha, we’ve just got a new girl for you.”

“But I’m full up, I couldn’t possibly…”

The madame paused when the girl stepped out of the wagon. She was well rounded and buxom, the wet dream of most men, her slightly transparent robe showing that she was naked underneath. She kept her eyes downcast with black hair cascading down her back. She looked like a goddess or spirit in mortal form, the dirt of the road refusing to cling to her bare feet.

“This is Saneya,” Anko introduced her, “the Resplendent Receptacle of Earthly Ambrosia. Say hello to your new mistress, Saneya.”

“Hello, mistress,” Saneya curtsied, “I am a naughty girl who deserves to be spanked.”

“Oh yes,” the madame said, considering her. “Yes, I definitely think I can make room for you.”

Chapter 20

Tetsu’s meditation was interrupted the next morning when someone grabbed her shoulder and shook, rocking her back and fourth on her crossed legs. Slowly opening her eyes, she found Messia glaring at her, kneeling so that they could face each other eye to eye. “Train me!” the little girl demanded.

Groaning, Tetsu rubbed her temples and turned away from the girl. “No.”

“Why not?” she asked petulantly.

“Look, I don’t have anything to teach you. Go pester Ogren or Aten.”

“Ogren’s busy piloting the ship,” she informed Tetsu, crossing her arms over her chest, “and Aten’s tinkering in the hold. Besides, I want you to train me.”

“What about Pensri?”

Messia raised one eyebrow. “The naked snake lady?”

No matter how hard Tetsu tried, she couldn’t fault the girl’s description. “She knows far more about martial arts and training than I do.”

“But I can trust you not to coddle me.”

“Messia, you don’t want to know how to fight the way I fight,” Tetsu said with a grimace. “Besides, I’ve never done any formal training, everything I know either comes from practical experience or sorcery!”

“I don’t care,” she said, “train me!”

“All right! Gods!” Tetsu sighed in exasperation. “You want training? Fine, come with me.”

Leading her outside like an eager puppy, Tetsu grabbed an apple from the cabin table as she passed by, taking a bite out of it and chewing as she talked. “All right, what are the four qualities that a martial artist needs to train?”

That seemed to stump the girl. “Ah… punches… kicks… charms…”

“Not even on the right track!” Tetsu groaned, holding up four fingers, noticing that Ogren was taking an interest from his position at the helm. “Power, Finesse, Stamina and Skill are the basic components, when you think about it Charms only enhance those four tenants.”

“Oh,” Messia said, not really sure if she was learning anything useful.

“Power is easy to understand,” Tetsu explained, “raw strength means you hit harder. Finesse comprises things like speed, co-ordination and flexibility. The faster you are, the better you’re not only able to hit but to avoid blows. Stamina keeps you in the fight and finally you need the skill to know where to hit and how to hit. Does that make sense?”

Messia nodded dubiously. “Seems fairly obvious though.”

“Yet you couldn’t answer me a second ago,” Tetsu observed wryly. “Well, since we’ve laid out the ground rules, where are you weakest?”

She sneered. “Hey! I’m not weak!”

Tetsu raised her eyebrows. “Really? And here I thought you were the one asking for training?”

“What I need to learn is, like, killer Charms that let me throw lightning or something,” Messia answered, throwing open hand blows as she mimicked zapping bad guys.

Sighing, Tetsu kicked the girl’s feet out from under her and watched as she bounced across the deck on her ass.

“OW! Hey, what was that for?”

“Being a little idiot,” Tetsu answered frankly. “You know how to throw a few punches but they have no bite to them. You are fast but not exceptionally so. You also can’t take a hit and your technique is sloppy. You can’t even begin to learn Charms like the ones you’re talking about with knowing the basics first.”

“I wasn’t ready that time,” she protested, taking up a proper combat stance.

Tetsu swept her legs out from under her again.

“That hurts!” she complained, rubbing her butt as she got back up off the deck.

“You think a dragonblood’s going to stop and wait for you to get back on your feet?”

She pouted. “No.”

“Then perhaps we can get started on improving your physical fitness before we both die of old age?”

The exercise regime Tetsu outlined for the little girl was gruelling. Runs around the perimeter of the ship up and down steps punctuated by holding certain stances and supplemented by sit-ups and weight training. Sore muscles and cramps were treated with massage and Tetsu even instituted a new diet for Messia to follow.

Watching Messia with one eye, she walked up to the railing next to the help where Ogren worked to keep them on course, intent on at least gauging the Dawn caste’s mood. “It’s hard to believe giant eagles move faster than these airships,” she commented.

“Ah but they can’t carry anywhere near the firepower,” Ogren grinned, “which is why Madrin hasn’t sent his flying cavalry ahead to try and stop us. Fortunately we’ll have plenty of valleys to hide in around River’s Bend when his fleet arrives.”

“You think he’ll attack in full force, then?” Tetsu asked sombrely.

“It’s inevitable,” he sighed, “as the Solar once said to his Lunar mate: we really screwed the pooch this time. I’m hoping we can get the Lunar Fleet and the Legion to fight it out for control then we’ll mop up the survivors.”

“You’re talking about an all out war in River’s Bend, what about the people?”

Ogren looked surprised. “You mean the mortals? This is war, Tetsu, the mortals will do what they always do: run or die. They were doomed the moment the Oracle decided to hide his Trove.”

“Speaking of which, how did you find out about the Trove?”

“Ask the little girl you’re running ragged all over my ship,” Ogren smirked, “she’s the reincarnation of the Oracle.”

Blinking, Tetsu looked back down at where Messia was diligently counting out her sit-ups. “Messia? I thought the Oracle was a man?”

“He was,” Ogren chuckled. “Of course, Messia isn’t the Oracle; she just has some of his memories. Like locking away some of the most powerful weapons of war the First Age ever devised behind a gate that requires three unusual keys. We had one, the other two we expected to be able to trace once we reached the ruins.”

“Why do you want the Trove?” Tetsu asked, trying to read his body language without overtly looking at him. “Messia’s too young to reclaim whatever’s left of the Oracle’s empire and you don’t have an army.”

“You’d be amazed how easy armies can be to come by,” he shrugged. “Show you can get things done and that you’re generous with rewards and men will follow you into Malfeas itself. As for my own interest, look around you. The Realm is too busy fighting amongst themselves to care for Creation, the Threshold has devolved into barbarism, Deathlords are on the march…. Creation is headed straight down the privy of Oblivion. We need a new Solar Empire and it’s up to us to do it.”

“If we were doing such a bang up job, why’d we get overthrown in the first place?”

“That’s politics,” Ogren sneered. “Maybe the old Solars overreached themselves, maybe they did fall to their own hubris. Maybe the dragonbloods just wanted more power for themselves and seized the main chance. I’m betting on all of the above but that doesn’t matter. We won’t make the same mistakes this time.”

“Well, I can’t fault your confidence,” Tetsu sighed. “So if you had one of the keys to the Trove, that implies you lost it.”

“That was what I was hoping to talk to you about. Cathak Markul had it.”

It took a moment for Tetsu to put it together. “His daiklave,” she said.

“About a week ago, maybe a bit longer, we’d taken shelter in an old redoubt,” he explained, “that’s where the Wyld Hunt caught up with us. Markul was a good fighter but he was outclassed, so I had him run with the daiklave in one direction while Aten and I created a diversion. We were supposed to meet up in River’s Bend but you can imagine our surprise when we follow his trail to discover a grave marker. Nice epitaph, by the way, if I pass on before you I hope you’d do me the honour of writing mine.”

Tetsu nodded absently. “I was sleeping under a tree when his horse rode by, dragging him along. It’d run itself to death in panic. He had a strange wound in his ches; we only had a few moments to talk about his regrets before he passed on. I promised to bury him in return for his worldly possessions.”

“What were you doing under a tree?”

“I’d stowed away on a ship bound for Greyfalls and was caught, forced to swim ashore. What were you doing that caught the attention of the Wyld Hunt?”

“Well, that’s a long story we’ll have to share another time,” he answered with a chuckle. “Right now I need to know where that daiklave is.”

“I lost it when I fell off a cliff,” Tetsu lied smoothly. “As far as I know, it’s at the bottom of the river under an avalanche.”

“Compared to conquering River’s Bend, that seems like a simple prospect,” Ogren mused, undeterred. “You know, I like you, Tetsu. You’d be a great addition to the crew.”

Raising her eyebrow, Tetsu looked at him over her shoulder. “And I thought we weren’t getting along.”

“Not at all, you have many traits I admire and I’m not talking about your body,” he said, cutting off Tetsu’s indignant response. “I knew we had a lot in common when you refused to pull your punches against Messia yesterday and from what Aten’s told me, you understand the meaning of obligation. I admire that.”

Pausing for a moment to adjust the wheel to take into account a sudden gust of wind, he continued. “Back before I exalted, I was a pirate captain. My crew plied the northwestern ocean until we accrued a debt we couldn’t hope to pay without taking an impossible risk. Being an overconfident idiot, I planned a raid on the Blessed Isle itself. I even managed to con an entire fleet of pirates to come with me. We were caught in an ambush by a group of dragonbloods and trapped inside their own walls, separated from our ship. I took one look at the men I had left, crossed swords with them and vowed to take as many of the curs with us to the next life.”

“And you exalted during the charge,” Tetsu surmised.

“I was the only survivor of my entire crew,” Ogren admitted, his tone wistful. “I don’t know how many men I left dead or severely wounded on the path to the harbour. Then I swam to my ship, dodging arrows and artillery before sailing it single handed out to sea. Of course, I was chased and eventually sunk. Everyone thought I was dead which suited me fine but I made sure what treasure I’d managed to keep aside was distributed to the families of the men that were with me in that final charge. After my business was done, I stole a small schooner and sailed south to Chiroscuro then eventually I got sick of the desert and started for the East.

But there’s another point to that story which is why I brought it up. We all thought we were going to die on the charge back to the harbour but still I wanted to leave my mark. I wanted the dragonbloods to remember the name of the mortal that dared and almost won. We’d hit their towns so fast that the civilians had barely enough time to either hide or evacuate and the area we were occupying included a school for noble children who might one day grow up to be dragonbloods. The students and their teachers were hiding in the basement.”

A chill ran down Tetsu’s spine as she realized where this was going.

“The guards had vats of boiling pitch on the walls so I had them emptied into the school, particularly the stairs down. Then we set it on fire,” Ogren explained impassively as if he was describing the weather. “Of course, I haven’t told Messia that story. I haven’t even told Aten, he’s a brilliant scholar and doctor but very naíve, but the moment I saw you fight Messia without remorse I knew you would understand. What’s more, I’ve been waiting for someone like you, someone who can set emotion aside to do what must be done. I know my weaknesses, I am a warrior, I can command the loyalty of men and wage war but I have no skill when it comes to operating a stable government. As an Eclipse, you can fill that role.”

“In your new ‘Solar Empire’?”

“The Oracle’s Trove is just the first step,” Ogren explained. “As long as the Realm mires itself in this civil war, we can unite the Hundred Kingdoms, even take Greyfalls as our capital.”

“Impossible,” Tetsu denied, “if any ‘Anathema’ gained that much power, the dragonbloods would set aside their differences and come after us.”

“Ignoring the fact that we’d have dragonbloods of our own, they wouldn’t stand a chance against the Iron Tiger.”

“Aten mentioned something about that before.”

Grinning, Ogren tied off the helm so he could join her at the rail. “Messia told us about it. A year or so ago she was still having nightmares about the Usurpation, specifically the ritual he’d used to send the arsenal… somewhere, Aten has theories about that but even he’s not quite sure where. The point is she specifically remembers The Resplendent Iron Tiger That Swallows the Sun. In the First Age, the most powerful weapon systems in Creation were, in descending order: The Daystar, The Silver Chair, The Realm Defence Grid and fourth the Titan-class battle fortress. The first two are the personal vehicles of the Unconquered Sun and Luna respectively, also known to us mortals as The Sun and The Moon. The Realm Defence Grid every schoolchild knows about only with the Scarlet Empress gone nobody can control it. The Resplendent Iron Tiger That Swallows the Sun is a Titan-class battle fortress, a flying fortress the size of an entire city whose main gun can level mountains.”

Shocked, Tetsu stared at him. “So that’s what everyone’s after?”

“Messia assures me that it was in perfect working condition when she sent it through the gate,” Ogren said, grinning wide enough that he reminded Tetsu of a slavering wolf. “It was built to be the Oracle’s ultimate war machine; it includes its own automated cathedral-factory, a fleet of flying warships, power armour, essence cannons, warstriders, even a built-in reality engine that allows it to travel freely through the Wyld.”

“It sounds too good to be true.”

“Even if half of what Messia says is accurate, it’s a force to be reckoned with,” Ogren rebutted. “Warfare and piracy are very similar in practice; the only difference is that in war you’ve got to hold on to what you take. We start by annihilating a few cities out of hand; revolutionaries tired of chafing under the Realm’s influence will flock to our banner. Once we conquer Greyfalls, we execute the older generation of dragonbloods and raise the younger ones to be loyal to us. I came close to sacking a town on the Blessed Isle back when I was mortal; just think what I could do now with my own army of exalted soldiers equipped with the most powerful weapons ever devised.”

“You know, Ogren, I think I like you too,” Tetsu lied with a smile, desperately holding her revulsion down as she patted his hand. “We’ll have to talk about this again… after we find the Iron Tiger.” She caught him watching her back as she walked away, or more specifically his eyes were caught by something lower than her back. Retreating back into her cabin, she leant against the closed door and shuddered, feeling like there were bugs crawling over her skin.

“Pleasant morning with Messia?” Pensri asked innocently from where she lounged in Tetsu’s bed.

Tetsu glared at her. “If you want to lie about, use your own bed.”

Slipping her legs out from under the blankets to sit up, the Lunar gave her a sly smile. “I figure you ought to get used to how I smell,” she said, stretching to show off her lithe curves, which Tetsu couldn’t help but admit were sooooo tempting. The way she moved made the Solar want to trace the lines of her tattoos with her fingertips…. Shaking herself, Tetsu turned away so she could concentrate on getting such ideas out of her head.

“Perhaps you’d prefer me in male form?” Pensri inquired teasingly.

Memories of her time with Valdis made Tetsu’s knees weak. “My preferences have nothing to do with it,” Tetsu snapped, “I’ve only known you for one day!”

She nodded soberly. “You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s easy for me to forget that, I’ve been waiting to meet you for what feels like my entire life. Of course, I never imagined you’d be so charming and beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me,” Tetsu pointed out, “how can you just show up and throw yourself into my life like this?”

She shrugged. “I honestly don’t understand your problem with it. Of course I can understand that your trust issues, that’s all sensible and rational, but being your Lunar mate is my karma. The fact is that my love and devotion to you is written into my soul and I not only accept that fact but glory in it. Perhaps it’s because I was raised in a caste system where it is believed that the gods themselves decree one’s place in society from the moment of birth that I’m more accepting of my place than you easterners. Don’t think I didn’t see the faces Elder Bloodmoon and the others made in our presence.”

“Kamaria didn’t seem to have a high opinion of the Sun King Seneschals.”

Pensri laughed. “No, the other factions in the Silver Pact don’t. Don’t get me wrong, I have every respect for the Crossroads Society and the Swords of Luna but on one hand we have the librarians who horde all the useful knowledge for themselves and on the other we have the warriors who are so busy watching the horizon that they miss what’s happening underfoot. In my personal opinion all sides share the blame for the Usurpation equally. The Solars became corrupt but the Lunars failed to curtail them and the Sidereals and the Dragonblooded didn’t try very hard at all. What did our laziness get us? The Great Contagion, the Balorian Crusade, Ghosts and Demons knocking on the gates.”

“What I don’t get about the whole story is they the Unconquered Sun didn’t do anything about it,” Tetsu mused, sinking into a chair. “If we were redeemable as you say, one word from him could have halted the whole affair in its tracks.”

“I think being an Incarnae is complicated,” Pensri sighed. “I’m not saying that they are incomprehensible… well, except for Luna but she’s impossibility made manifest. I think the real issue is that the Unconquered Sun is perfection incarnate, the core of his being is invincibility. By giving the Solar exalted part of his power that perfection is transferred; how can perfection face perfection and be certain of any outcome? The perfect answer is that you don’t play that game, you bide your time until a winning situation for everyone proposes itself.”

Tetsu shook her head. “If I’m your example of perfection, Pensri, then I’m afraid Creation is in a lot of trouble.”

The Lunar batted her eyelashes. “Perhaps you haven’t looked in the mirror lately, darling, but you’re not exactly going to be able to pass for a mere mortal with those looks. Once glance at you and whole orders of Immaculate monks will break their vows.”

Feeling uncomfortable, Tetsu hugged herself. “This… this body isn’t mine. If you knew the old me you wouldn’t say that.”

“Then I merely think that someone unlocked a potential in you that was there in the beginning,” Pensri suggested, smiling enigmatically. “Beauty is a blessing that often goes remarkably unappreciated by those who have it. Whatever was gifted to you, however, goes far beyond simple physical appearances; I would dare to say you’ve been exalted twice if such a thing was possible.”

“Let me see; scared, vulnerable, out of my depth and sinking fast, deeply embarrassed, confused… you’re right that does sound like my exaltation,” Tetsu quipped.

“Humility becomes you,” Pensri said fondly. “Far too many Solars are far too impressed with themselves.”

“If you keep flattering me like that, it might go to my head.”

“Well, there’s such a thing as being too humble,” Pensri rebutted.

“You know, I think there’s only one other woman in the world that can keep up with me the way you do,” Tetsu said wistfully.

Pensri raised her eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like a passing acquaintance. Do I smell the blood of a rival?”

“Well, she was my girlfriend before,” Tetsu sighed.

The Lunar’s eyes narrowed. “Then I’ll eat her heart and take her form so you have something to remember her by.”

Tetsu raised her finger. “No, bad Lunar.”

Pouting, Pensri hopped onto her feet and glided over to stroke Tetsu’s chin. “I am yours,” she whispered, “I can and will be anyone and everything you desire. Of course if it is your desire that I keep this… other woman alive then I will obey. If she is unworthy of you, however, make no mistake, I will excise her influence on your life as neatly as a surgeon clears dead flesh from a wound.”

“And here you’ve been throwing around the word obedient so much I thought you considered yourself my slave.”

She smiled. “The fun parts of being a slave at least. On the other hand, sometimes one has to make sacrifices for those they love, even those they refuse to make for themselves.”

Both of them jumped when the cabin door suddenly slammed open. Standing in the doorway was little Messia, puffing and wheezing. “I finished,” she gasped, stumbling inside. After a moment, she looked up at them and her eyes narrowed. “Hey! What are you two doing?”

“Oh, us?” Pensri asked innocently while Tetsu blushed. “I’m just trying to seduce Tetsu, that’s all.”

Tetsu tried to say something but almost choked on her own tongue.

“Really?” Messia asked; her demeanour suddenly brightening as the news gave her a second wind. “Oh! Oh! Can you teach me to seduce people, Pensri?”

Her question only made Tetsu choke more.

“I don’t know,” Pensri mused, holding her chin as she looked Messia over. “You really want to take lessons from the ‘naked snake lady’? Besides, you’re going to have to grow some curves first…”

“Hey! I’ll have you know a Guild slaver once offered Ogren a whole Talent for me!” Messia protested before the ‘naked snake lady’ part penetrated her awareness and she was suddenly overtaken by nerves. “Oh, wait, you heard me call you that?”

Pensri laughed. “Did you know that giant snakes sometimes sneak into people’s houses and swallow children whole?”

Messia gulped. “Sorry… wait a minute, that means you were spying on Tetsu!”

“Only for her own safety!” Pensri protested, grabbing hold of Tetsu possessively.

“Oh, so really you’re an obsessive naked stalker snake lady!”

Snapping a little, Pensri pounced, grabbing the little girl’s hair. “Why you little…”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off when Messia, wincing from having her hair clutched so tightly, grabbed the ends of Pensri’s long locks and pulled hard. Tetsu simply rested her forehead in her palm as their squabbling turned into an all-out brawl. Furniture was overturned and pottery smashed as the Zenith was chased around the room by Pensri in the form of a giant constrictor snake. When Aten finally opened the door, he found Tetsu still sitting impassively as Pensri clutched the little girl in her coils while she cried ‘uncle’ over and over.

“What in the name of the Third Circle?” he asked, flabbergasted.

Changing back, Pensri stood up and dusted herself off. “Just messing about, Aten, don’t get your apron in a knot.”

Tetsu couldn’t help but smirk since Aten was still wearing his workman’s smock which included a heavy apron marred by several scorch marks. “Oh, very funny,” Aten muttered as he helped Messia onto her feet.

“Oh, Uncle Aten,” Messia said brightly, despite being a little blue in the face a moment before, “Pensri’s going to teach me seduction! Isn’t that awesome!”

Aten gave Pensri a flat look.

“Hey! I never agreed to that!” Pensri protested. “I am NOT teaching a twelve year old girl to seduce people! Not that she has anything to seduce anyone with…”

“Oh yeah? Well I’ve got bigger breasts than you already, flat chest!” Messia declared indignantly.

Working in tandem, Aten grabbed Messia while Tetsu subdued Pensri, separating them before they could start again. “That’s enough of that, both of you,” Tetsu snapped.

“Tetsuuuuu,” Pensri pleaded, looking up at her with large, kitten-like, eyes, “you don’t think I’m flat chested do you?”

Smacking herself on the side of her head with her palm, Tetsu sighed deeply. “No Pensri, I think you’re perfectly proportioned…”

She trailed off as Pensri’s gaze dropped down to Tetsu’s chest and the rather generous protrusions that were hard to miss even restrained as they were by the Solar’s high-collared robe. Suddenly turning to stalk outside, she practically kicked down the door as she stormed out, muttering darkly to herself. Shaking her head, Tetsu pointed at Messia. “As for you, if you’re this lively you can work off the rest of your energy cleaning the room you helped destroy!”

“What?!?” Messia exclaimed.

“You goaded Pensri into attacking you,” Tetsu explained mercilessly. “I’m going to get some air again, when I get back this place had better be spotless.”

“You heard her, Messia,” Aten affirmed sternly. Defeated, Messia got to work while the two other Solars stepped outside. “You’d make a great mother, Tetsu,” Aten jibed under his breath.

“Keep that up and I’ll serve you your own testicles,” Tetsu growled.

“Sorry, is it that time of the month already?”

“Did you want something or did you just come up to try to annoy me to death?”

“A little bit of both,” he quipped, “but right now I’m in the mood for the former. I have a gift for you.”

Raising her eyebrows, Tetsu scoffed. “You have a gift for me?”

“Look, I’m sorry I thought you killed Markul,” he apologized quickly, as if he felt it would hurt less that way. “I admit, proximity to his body so soon after the attack may have made the aura… ‘rub off’ on you for lack of a better term. He was my friend; surely you can understand my reaction.”

“I can understand it but I can’t condone it,” Tetsu stated flatly. “We came close to killing each other because you jumped the gun…”

“I know,” he interrupted. Tetsu’s eyes bulged when he produced a set of orihalcum trinkets from the sleeves of his robe. “We found these in the cellar of an abandoned monastery a few years ago. They were broken and I had them stashed away for when I got a spare moment. They’re not really my style and you need some extra protection, so I fixed them for you.”

Tetsu opened and shut her mouth several times as she considered what to say, taking them out of his hands. “I… thanks… I guess… I mean, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to say. What do they do?”

“Well, these four pieces are called Discreet Essence Armour,” he explained, pointing out the anklets and bracelets. “Together, they sheathe the wearer in protective essence during combat. It draws on your essence to activate but lasts as long as danger persists and works like real, tangible, armour only it doesn’t restrict movement at all, meaning it can be used with martial arts that aren’t compatible with physical armour. This particular set is heavily customized, I think they also act as Heathstone Bracers, so they should also improve your reflexes and help you strike harder. The fifth piece matches the rest but acts as an artefact we call a ‘Collar of Dawn’s Cleansing Light’. Basically a vanity item, it’ll keep you and your clothing clean and well presented no matter what. In addition it provides some protection against disease and poisons.”

Tetsu’s eyes bulged as she turned the pieces over in her hands. Between the value of the orihalcum and their magical properties, she was holding a veritable fortune in her hands and he was acting like it was nothing. “I’m not sure what to say,” she said, flustered, “I can’t remember the last time someone actually just gave me something.”

Blushing profusely, Aten turned away from her and coughed lightly into his hand. “No need to say anything just put them on. Uh… they should also, um, keep you at a comfortable temperature and protect your feet should you have occasion to be, er, barefoot. Oh, and you’ll have to attune them to your essence but the commitment should be minimal.”

Hesitantly, Tetsu slipped the jewellery around her wrists and ankles, carefully locking them into place before slipping the collar around her neck. She couldn’t help but note that the bright gold matched her skin tone perfectly as they reshaped themselves to a comfortable fit. The artefacts glowed for a moment as she attuned to them, fuelling their abilities by allowing them to draw a tiny trickle of essence from her reserves constantly. The effect on her appearance was immediate; small wrinkles in her clothes immediately smoothed out, her hair straightened as if it had been meticulously combed and even her nails were perfectly shaped, manicured and polished.

Worried that they weren’t going to fit for a moment, Tetsu quickly found that the delicate but surprisingly strong pieces of jewellery constricted themselves comfortably around her limbs. “Is there supposed to be a gem here?” she asked, pointing at the empty settings on the bracers.

“They’re hearthstone settings,” Aten explained, “when you find one that you can attune to, you can place it in one of the sockets to gain its benefits. Hearthstones are created naturally inside a manse, they convey special powers and allow enlightened individuals to draw upon the essence of the demesne they’re linked to over any distance, recharging your reserves. Sorry but hearthstones aren’t the sorts of things one just leaves lying around and even if you find one, you have to visit its manse to attune to it.”

Impulsively, Tetsu gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before she knew what she was doing which only made them both blush even harder. Pensri, on the other hand, glowered at them from the far railing, gnawing her lower lip in consternation.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, grinning boyishly. “Please be aware, I take payment from pretty ladies in the form of sexual favours…”

He got his payment in the form of an open-handed slap that left a red imprint on his cheek.

#

Darkness descended quickly over Private Leng as he watched the sun sink below the ridge of the western mountains behind the temple high above. Turning back around before his sergeant spotted him lollygagging; he scanned the opposite shore of the river again from his position atop the bridge. The torches were already lit, keeping the path over the river illuminated but leaving the forested region beyond in surprisingly impenetrable darkness for so early in the evening.

As time passed the shadows only grew darker but despite himself he couldn’t help thinking that there was something more sinister lurking beyond. Unable to shake off the feeling, every movement of so much of a leaf made him jumpier until he had to tell himself each time that it was just an animal or the wind. As the sky darkened, the stabled horses far behind him became more restless, whinnying as they struggled against their confinement much to the stablehand’s chagrin.

It wasn’t until the bushes started to move in earnest that he realized it wasn’t his imagination. There were things moving under the boughs of the trees. As they shambled into the open, he screamed in horror as the masses of rotting flesh dragged themselves towards the river unafraid of the current.

“UNDEAD!” Private Leng screamed, running for his life. “THE DEAD ARE COMING! THE DEAD ARE COMING!”

#

Entering after politely knocking on the door, Destined Edge looked like a bedraggled kitten as she dragged herself into Sanejin’s former study where Feather was busy pouring through his things. Most of the books that had been on the shelves were piled on the floor while parchments and scrolls were left leaning against the wall. The Chosen of Serenity herself was bent over the Gnomon as she compared it to a diagram on a scroll she’d rolled out underneath it, held in place with heavy glass paperweights. Next to the Gnomon was Sanejin’s hearthstone, its feint glow illuminating the flickering shadows with a cool, pale, radiance.

“Any new leads?” Edge enquired.

“Some,” Feather answered shortly, “how’s Rage?”

Edge took a deep, calming, breath. “He still hasn’t woken yet. There’s no permanent internal damage but it will take time for him to heal.”

“Time we don’t have,” Feather said with regret. “The Gnomon is the key to this whole mess, I’m sure of it. Our true enemy won’t be able to allow us to keep possession of it, we could spirit it away to Yu Shan at any time.”

“Why haven’t we then?”

Feather bit her lower lip. The truth was that she’d been debating whether or not to skip out on her responsibilities and use it to find Tetsu but she couldn’t admit that to Edge. “Our goal is to resolve the snarl in the Loom. We can use the Gnomon to flush out the perpetrator.”

“Why not fire it up and ask it to point us in the right direction?”

“Because this thing is dangerous,” Feather explained. “The Gnomon can place anyone on the path to anything they desire but it doesn’t guarantee the safety of that path. Our enemy knows the nature of the Gnomon; we’d be walking into a trap.”

“If you say so,” Edge tacitly agreed. “So, what did you need me for?”

It took a moment for the question to sink into Feather’s brain as she forced herself to set her worry for Tetsu aside. “What? Sorry, I didn’t send for you.”

“Yes you did, you sent one of the whores down to…”

Reaching the same conclusion at the same time, both Sidereals bolted out the door, Feather only a few paces behind as she stuffed the Gnomon in one pocket and the temple’s hearthstone in the other. “I SCANNED HER!” Edge screamed in rage as she sprinted through the corridors. Barging through the door to Feather and Tetsu’s former chambers, she skidded to a halt as they found the room empty. Turning on Feather, Edge was about to grab the woman’s collar and force her to use the Gnomon but to her surprise Feather was already inserting the hearthstone into the socket.

Activating the Gnomon was somewhat anticlimactic. There was a brief flicker of essence before an unnatural point of golden light began orbiting the device, casting a shadow across the Gnomon. “Gnomon,” Feather addressed the device formally in the language of the First Age, “where is our partner, the Sidereal of Battles known as Focused Rage?”

The mote of light stopped spinning abruptly, the shadow pointing back through the door they’d entered. Moments later they were running again with Feather in the lead following the Gnomon’s directions as they weaved through rooms and corridors. Finally entering the main hall, Feather stopped so abruptly that Edge almost bowled her over in her haste.

Before them on the other side of the circular room, Mamo stood at the edge of the hole Tetsu had ripped through the outer wall. He held Rage’s limp body over his shoulder with ease, even smiling as he waved to the girls in greeting. “Welcome, ladies, you’re a little late but I guess that’s a woman’s prerogative.”

Edge took a step forward but Feather held out an arm to stop her.

“Very wise,” Mamo complimented, “I’d hate to have to let him go after all the trouble I went to steal him away.”

“Bastard!” Edge swore. “How did you get past me?”

“Well, well, well, the much vaunted knowledge of the Sidereals isn’t up to much, is it?” he asked rhetorically, chuckling to himself. “Actually, I think I’ll leave you to your agonizing suspense. All you need to know is that I’ve been watching you all ever since you arrived in River’s Bend. Your amateurish games have proven amusing to us but it’s almost time for the final round. The Abyssal is making her move as we speak but her interference is now as irrelevant as the dragonbloods.”

“What do you want?” Feather asked, cutting to the heart of the matter.

His grin widened. “Wealth, fame, power, Creation, a good woman to settle down with… what does any man want? Right now, however, we want the four keys to the Oracle’s Trove.”

Feather’s eyes narrowed. “Sanejin told us there were three keys.”

Mamo laughed. “Father was cunning and manipulative but he was also lazy and never very good at research. There are four keys, two of which are in your possession at this very moment. The Gnomon, the hearthstone, the sword of the Oracle’s last loyal Dragonlord that was used to take the ancient Solar’s life and finally the Oracle’s own exaltation, reborn into the world. Bring me the final pieces of the puzzle and your friend will be released unmolested. Betray us and… well, let’s just say being molested will be the least of her concerns.”

To emphasize his point, Mamo gently patted Rage’s ass, making Feather’s skin crawl. “Don’t,” Feather whispered to Edge in warning as the Chosen of Endings secretly removed a thin throwing needle from her belt behind her back. “He chose his position too carefully for it to be that simple.”

Cursing the fact that she was right, Edge put the needle away. Moments later there was a distinct buzzing sound that grew steadily louder as if a giant insect was approaching the hole from the outside. “Ah, that would be my ride,” Mamo said, taking note of the noise. “Best of luck, we expect to see both of you very soon.”

He waved goodbye as a giant demon-wasp landed on the wall behind him, its many legs straddling the hole in the wall. It picked him up with its long foremost arms and deposited him in its back before launching into the air at hellacious speed, disappearing into the night.

“GODS DAMN IT!” Edge shouted, smashing her fist into the wall hard enough to break one of the stone bricks. Turning on Feather, she held out her hand. “Give me the Gnomon!” she demanded.

Watching her warily, Feather shook her head. “You’re not thinking clearly, Edge.”

“You think I didn’t see the look in his eyes? Rage is in the hands of a monster wearing the shape of a man!”

“He’ll be expecting you to follow him,” Feather explained in exasperation, “if you chase after him now you’d be playing right into his hands.”

“But if we find the other keys to the Trove and hand them over to him we’re playing right into his hands anyway!”

“Of course! That’s what good strategy is, building situations where no matter what anyone does, you win. Rage taught me that.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Edge asked, folding her arms across her chest. “Sacrifice Rage and send the Gnomon back to Yu Shan for the good of Creation?”

“No,” Feather answered flatly. “You may think you’re the only one who cares about Rage but he’s been my partner and my friend for years. Look, there’s no way Mamo won’t try to screw us over no matter what we do…”

She was interrupted when Kano threw open one of the doors on the balcony above. “There you are,” the goddess observed with visible relief, “come quickly, an army of zombies is attacking Low Town!”

#

Legionnaires stood shoulder to shoulder as the horde of wet, rotting, corpses broke upon their shields. Improvised barricades cluttered the streets to provide defensible positions for the men as the tide of hungry dead mostly took the path of least resistance in their desire to taste the flesh of the living. Such was their desperation, however, that the back ranks were beginning to tear down the weaker ramshackle structures as the press of bodies slowly pushed the Legionnaires back.

The civilians, including the whores, were still evacuating to High Town where engineers were busy constructing new fortifications. Archers rained flaming arrows down onto the ranks of the dead as they emerged from the river or attempted to cross the bridge but their effect was minimal. The catapults and the fire from the cannons of the airship known as The Daring Princess was far more effective at thinning them out, enough that the ground forces had a chance. Her sister ship, The Dashing Prince, was flying north at full speed to retrieve Delani and the others.

Agani’s palms itched as she watched the men aboard the ships docked in the harbour fight for their lives, cut off from the shore as they were swarmed under. Standing atop the bras pyramid as the hidden legs that unfolded from the base of the great machine moved it slowly away from the front lines, she cursed her inability to help as the men who died joined the ranks of the enemy moments later. Hathor’s unfinished defences had been designed to repel a mortal army, not an endless stream of the unfeeling dead.

“Ready the essence cannon,” Agani ordered the gunners, “we’ll provide covering fire while the Legion pulls back across the square.”

The chief gunner nodded before shouting orders over the clatter of the mechanical beast while the lantern-bearer signalled the order to fall back with a series of coloured flashes of light. The Legion broke into a disciplined retreat as the Daring Princess and the brass pyramid swept the banks of the river clean with beams of disintegrating essence, though the volley drained the reserves of both weapons which wouldn’t be able to fire again for some time while they recharged.

Firing the essence cannons was also the pre-arranged signal for Sarro to lead the local dragonbloods on a charge into the square to buy the retreating forces more breathing space so they could take position at the top of the cliff. Though none alone were as skilled as a single member of her sworn sisterhood, Agani had to admit that each was still a force in their own right as they cleaned up the remaining zombies on their side of the river. Then, when the next wave emerged from the water, they retreated back up to High Town even as the brass pyramid climbed the nearly vertical slope, far out of the reach of the enemy.

Shivering as the stars seemed to flicker for a moment, Agani felt a wave of dark energy sweep the battlefield. As she watched, the corpses that had been felled twitched and writhed, slowly rising back to their feet if they could or simply crawling onward if they were able. “Fire at will,” Agani ordered quietly, “and pray we can last long enough to see this through.”

Chapter 21

Tetsu couldn’t believe what she was seeing as she stared out over the bow of the ship. River’s Bend was burning, the red glow of the fires clearly visible over the crests of the mountains that still lay between them and the river valley. As Ogren steered the ship west and they passed over the valley, the fires could be seen clearly in the distance. Aten pulled an extendable telescope from one of the his robe’s many secret pockets and put it to his right eye for a better look.

“The Legion’s retreated to High Town,” he informed everyone. “They’re using the cliff as a natural barrier… its hard to see what they’re actually fighting, too much smoke. Could be goblins or the walking dead, though I’d put good money down on the walking dead. I hate to say I told you so, Tetsu, but…”

“I can only follow my own conscience, Aten, that’s all any of us can do,” Tetsu said remorsefully. “Though I admit, I seem to be failing to read people’s intentions as well as I should lately.”

“No time for self flagellation,” Ogren muttered, “the Legion can handle one little zombie horde with only a single deathknight. If anything, the distraction will let us get into the temple unnoticed.”

“I hate to ask but does anyone have a plan?” Pensri enquired.

Aten and Ogren looked at each other. “Actually, we generally make it up as we go along,” Aten admitted in all seriousness, “it’s worked out for the best so far.”

Brushing off the urge to slap him again, Tetsu put her hands on her hips as she frowned at them both. “Yes, ask Cathak Markul how well that’s worked for you.”

“Fair point,” Ogren admitted. “All right, what did you have in mind?”

Stroking her chin, Tetsu was tempted to just grab Feather and run but her cursed morality bit that idea in the ass. “Usually I’d get you to hide the airship so I could scout around for intelligence but I’m sick of playing these games. We can’t allow another player to buy into the game, so whoever’s attacking River’s Bend needs to be dealt with once and for all. I say we hit them from the rear, level Shanku Toyo Graveyard if we have to.”

Aten frowned. “We could just let them annihilate each other,” he observed, “it’s not like we owe the Legion any favours.”

“The dragonbloods are just pawns,” Tetsu explained herself. “They’re clueless, fumbling in the dark. By the time they work out what’s really going on, we’ll be long gone.”

“But we don’t even know where the keys are,” he pointed out.

“I do,” Tetsu replied smugly, “all I have to do is drop into the Temple to pick them up but do you really want Ullah breathing down our necks the rest of the way? She won’t be expecting a sneak attack; we can eliminate the threat right now on our own terms.”

Ogren and Aten looked at each other for a moment, unsure of what to think.

“Oh for the sake of the gods,” Tetsu swore. “You get to drop bombs on everything!”

“I’ll plot a course,” Ogren told Aten, sporting a wide grin. “You get the ordinance ready.”

Pensri sighed. “Boys!”

#

“This is desperation,” Feather muttered to Kano and Edge as they surveyed the battle from the temple battlements. “Ullah has no idea what’s really going on so she’s going to burn everything down and sort out the ashes later.”

“Ullah?” Edge asked, confused.

“The local Deathknight,” Feather explained.

“You don’t think she’s in league with Mamo?” Kano asked.

“If she was, why attack the town? It’s not like Mamo needed a distraction. Besides, the Deathlords are only out for themselves and they certainly don’t play well with others, even the Yozis. I see our dragonbloods have joined the fight already, what about Saneya and the girls at the other brothel?”

“Evacuated long before Low Town started burning,” Kano reported, “they’re holed up in one of the empty mansions.”

“I don’t quite understand what’s going on but I do know that it’s irrelevant,” Edge interjected, “we need to concentrate on finding Rage and getting him back.”

“Without giving up the Gnomon,” Feather added.

Kano blinked. “Wait, Rage has been kidnapped?!?”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Feather groaned.

#

“Gentlemen,” Agani teased the all-female troop of dragonbloods before her, earning herself a collective dark stare from the crowd. “Thank you for your efforts in the battle thus far, it’s inspiring to see that despite adversity, my kinsmen no matter how distantly related will rise to any challenge. I look forward to toasting our victory with you… but first there’s a small matter of winning. Our scouts have reported that the enemy is mustering siege breakers in the forest across the river, therefore I must ask you to disperse yourselves at regular intervals along the lines to help counteract the threat.”

The highest ranking woman, who appeared to be a maiden barely out of the Academy, kicked them into action and went about the details of deployment, leaving Agani free for her next order of business. Using her telescope, she scanned the northern valley for signs of Delani and the second airship but vision was entirely blocked by a wall of smoke. The walking dead were being held off at the stairs were the horde was bottlenecked, though the northern flank was starting to come under pressure as the sea of rotting flesh sought the easiest path. In the distance across the river, through the smoke, she could see the shadows of lumbering hulks slowly striding across the bridge.

“Too close,” she mumbled to herself. Turning on her heel, she handed the telescope to her staff officer before placing her hands on her hips. The chief engineer shouted orders at his men as they hauled on long ropes. Pulleys and gears whirred and clicked as the cradle slowly rose into the air, pulling her personal Warstrider upright. The red enamel came alive in the firelight, orange flames dancing in the reflection provided by the perfectly polished armour plates.

Wrath of the Righteous Dragon was as close to the perfect engine of war as the finest artisans of the Realm could craft, decades of work in design and construction and a survivor of centuries of service. Agani didn’t quite get as gooey on the inside as Misari did over her precious Blossom but she couldn’t deny her attraction to the raw power the Dragon represented. His sleek majesty belied the strength bound to his limbs, encased in hardened jadesteel plates.

“Ma’am,” the chief engineer greeted her with a short salute, “just a few preliminary checks left, he won’t be long.”

“Pray that you’re fast enough, Chief,” Agani replied, glancing over her shoulder towards the stairway, “for all out sakes.”

#

“Missstresss,” Ajah Kuld hissed through lipless fangs, “the vanguard of the Grajira class necrobeasts has reached the far bank of the river.”

Reclining on a divan stitched together from children’s skin, Ullah fanned her face with a soulsteel warfan that resembled a bat’s wing. Her slaves clung to the legs as the howdah atop the undead tyrant lizard rocked with its every earthshaking step. Inkfinger had one hand wrapped around the balcony rail nearby for stability, though he handled the jarring gait of the beast with more grace than an ordinary ghost.

Outside they could see nothing but trees to the sides, a mountain at their backs and a wall of smoke to the fore punctuated by the occasional flash of essence beam weapons. If not for Ajah Kuld’s necromancy, they would have no idea what was going on beyond the wall of ash rising into the night sky before them. He wore a robe composed of long, black, leather strips that hung from a heavy iron neck brace. The emaciated form underneath was scantly clothed in shroud fragments pinned to his skin with long needles.

“Excellent,” Ullah complimented graciously, “as soon as the formation is fully deployed, I want the Shardbats in the air.”

“Yesss, misstresss,” he giggled with glee as he caressed the Obsidian Skull of Shar Agoth. The artefact allowed him to directly control the vast horde at his disposal. “Wait,” he paused mid-cackle, suddenly serious, “something is flying towards us from the south east…”

Inkfinger half stumbled across the deck to take a look. Bracing himself against a column as he pulled a contraption that appeared to be an eagle’s eye set inside a mechanical frame from his robe, pressing it to his right eye socket. “An airship, mistress,” he informed the Midnight Caste, “I don’t recognize the markings or design, definitely not a Legion vessel.”

Bored, Ullah sighed. “Are they signalling their intens…”

She was interrupted when the forest behind them exploded, fire blooming like a row of flowers amongst the second wave of zombies shambling towards the front. Shanku Toyo graveyard was obliterated, nothing but a field of ash and blackened stumps left in the wake of the bombing. Shoving Inkfinger aside, Ullah took his place at the railing, though her unnatural dexterity allowed her to stand without support. “That’s no Realm ship… I don’t know how he got his hands on a warship but I smell Tetsu’s mark on this. Ajah! Launch the Shardbats! I have a new target for them.”

#

“Yeah! Take that, Creatures of Darkness!” Messia cheered, shaking her fist at the army far below.

“That should ease the pressure on the Legion,” Aten said, his arms folded inside the sleeves of his robe, “but all we’ve done is give them a fighting chance.”

“That’s more than they deserve,” Ogren muttered.

“Too easy,” Tetsu whispered to herself, nervously wringing her hands as she scanned the trees far below.

“Ouch,” Pensri winced, suddenly covering her ears for no apparent reason, “anyone else hear that?”

Looking around, Aten shrugged. “Hear wha…”

Interrupted when the canopy below was shattered by the rising bodies of a thousand giant bats festooned with bone spikes, Aten hit the deck as the riders cast barbed javelins at the balloon over their heads. Tetsu yanked Messia out of the line of fire, shielding the little girl with her own body as the projectiles glanced off the armoured shell, falling down around them like raindrops.

“MAN THE CANNONS!” Ogren ordered, battering javelins aside as he steered the ship hard to starboard.

“Messia, inside!” Tetsu ordered as she watched a detachment of the bat riders peel off from the main group while the main body flew west toward the battle.

“I can help!” the little girl protested as Tetsu pushed her into the cabin.

“You want to help? Protect the cabin. Much easier to fight when you’re not dodging javelins,” Tetsu informed her as she slammed the door shut and barred it.

As the bats began to overtake the airship, Tetsu got a better look at the beasts. Jagged ridges of bone protruded from thick, scaly, skin and fur in an unholy parody of life, stitched together from what must have been hundreds of corpses. The rider’s flesh was obviously necrotic, peeling away from muscle and bone between riveted armour plates. “Pensri? What in all of…”

“I don’t know,” the Lunar interrupted, knowing exactly what her mate was about to ask.

The ship’s ordinance wasn’t as advanced as the Legion’s warships but the spectacle of the broadside cannons unleashing their fury was grand enough. Spinning chains shredded flesh and bone, ripping several of the beasts to pieces in a thunderous roar. Everyone on deck had to cover their ears as the bats screeched in response, the whole airship vibrating as planks burst from the inside and rivets popped out of place. One attempted to savage the balloon but Ogren blasted it out of the air with a bolt of light from his sword before it could do any real damage.

Tetsu and Pensri were more than occupied when the remaining three landed heavily on the hull, clawing their way onto the deck over the railing. Instead of throwing their javelins again, the riders slashed at the ropes and cables that helped secure the balloon safely in place. The last of the beasts alighted on the stern, taking advantage of Ogren’s momentary weakness to batter him aside, sending the wheel spinning. Lurching violently, they all felt the keel graze the top of the mountain as they climbed into the sky. Unfortunately, they all had more pressing matters to worry about.

Acting solely by reflex, Tetsu grabbed the head of the nearest bat and twisted, tearing it clean off. The riders were barely able to scream in alarm as the limp body slid over the edge, dragging them to oblivion. Meanwhile, Pensri pulled an ornate moonsilver seven section staff out of Elsewhere, spinning it over her head as she twirled into action. Several amazingly precise whip-like strikes opened long gashes in another of the beast’s wings, slicing through muscle like butter. The rider’s retaliation earned him a second death she parried and retaliated, driving the tip through his noseless face and through the back of his skull.

Nursing his wounded right arm, Ogren was forced to fence his opponent with his left hand, though this slight handicap availed his enemy little. Snarling in triumph as he managed to hook Ogren’s sword, the rider was startled when the Dawn Caste dragged him down out of the saddle and stuffed him into the maw of his own mount. The beast’s wings were severed and its head rolling across the deck before Ogren took control of the helm once more.

Snatching her foe’s javelin from his limp fingers, Pensri leapt atop another of the beasts as it tried to attack Tetsu from behind, piercing the shoulderblade and pinning it in place. The rider drew a sword that was more like a long meat cleaver from his hip and slashed at her, barely missing the tip of her nose as she arched her body backward. Whipping forward with her whole body, she immobilized his sword arm with her left hand and struck his ribs, neck and face with a series of blinding strikes with her fingertips. Stunned, he put up little resistance when she snapped his neck, deftly rolled off the enraged beast before it could throw her off.

The last of the riders spurred his giant bat forward, leaping at Tetsu with its fanged maw agape. For her part, Tetsu couldn’t understand why they seemed to be moving so slowly. To her perceptions, she had all the time to pull her fist back, line up the shot, summon her essence and strike at precisely the right moment. Smashing her fist into the beast’s nose, the blow drove its thick skull back into its torso, the thick spine snapping in half. Catapulted over her head, the rider hit the starboard rail, crumpling into a lifeless heap. “What?” she gasped, eyes bulging as she stared at her hands.

“Remind me not to challenge you to arm wrestling,” Pensri commented, finishing off the last bat by driving both sharp ends of her seven section staff into the back of the beast’s neck.

“Enough! We have a real problem here,” Ogren shouted as he struggled with the wheel.

The trapdoor to the hold suddenly burst open as Aten emerged, looking pale. “Ogren! We’ve ripped away half the keel, the rudder’s gone and the starboard stabilizer’s locked! We can’t turn!”

“I noticed!” Ogren barked. “We’re out of control! If anyone can fly, now’s the time to…”

A sudden groan of stressed timber followed by a gut-wrenching crunch from below decks pulled them sharply to port, the nose tipping downward as the airship started gaining speed with the force of gravity behind it. They grabbed on to anything nearby as the slope of the mountain slid into view before them.

“Abandon ship!” Ogren ordered, frantically trying to regain control.

“Messia!” Tetsu called, running over to the cabin door and tearing the iron bar out of the wood in her haste to throw open the door. There was a gaping hole in the back of the cabin but Messia threw herself into Tetsu’s arms, crying. Picking the girl up, Tetsu kept running with Pensri hot on her heels as they leapt out of the ship through the hole in the stern just as the aft hit the mountainside.

Heat blasted their backs as the airship exploded, the destroyed engines igniting the hull, the balloon above it and the stores of gunpowder belowdecks. Shifting in mid air, Pensri took the form of a giant flying lizard that Tetsu couldn’t name, her talons ripping through the back of the Eclipse Caste’s robe as she unfurled her wings to arrest their descent. Steering deftly through the trees, she set them down lightly on a rock shelf before landing herself, breathing heavily. “Note to self,” Pensri said, her voice sounding strange coming from a beaked lizard, “don’t underestimate an undead army.”

“Did anyone see Aten and Ogren?” Tetsu asked, turning around as she scanned the sky for any sign of their companions.

“We’re here,” Aten muttered, stumbling through the trees while supporting Ogren’s injured arm, “our landing wasn’t quite as elegant but we’re alive. Ogren, sit on that rock, I have to look at that arm right now.”

Muttering, Ogren did as he was told. After a quick examination, Aten decided he had to clean the wound with a special solution he produced by mixing some powder with a cup of water which seemed to cause Ogren quite a bit of pain. “Bloody underworld scum,” Aten swore as he worked, “not content to slice and dice you, they just love their poisons and diseases. So we bought the Legion some breathing space at the cost of our ship. Good call.”

“Do you want to be fighting those things all the way to the temple?” Tetsu asked pointedly. “I’m no fan of the Legion but they’re the lesser of two evils.”

“Enough,” Ogren ordered. “All that matters now is getting across the river and infiltrating the temple.”

Tetsu scowled. “That’s a bit short sighted, isn’t it?”

All of the assembled Exalts stared at her.

“Those THINGS are an abomination!” Tetsu protested vehemently. “Ullah wants the Oracle’s Trove just as much as we do, if we let her have her way now she might just be breathing down our necks tomorrow.”

“If you really do have the three keys, the Iron Tiger could be ours by morning!” Ogren growled.

“At what cost?” Tetsu rebutted. “There are men and women out there fighting for Creation! They may be my enemy but that does not mean I can stand idly by while they sacrifice themselves for the good of the land!”

Standing, Ogren glared at her, enraged. “WE ARE THE GOOD OF THE LAND!” he roared. “We are the Chosen, it is our place to rule over Creation. Once we have the Iron Tiger, NOTHING in Creation can prevent us from forging an eternal empire. Generations hence will shower those men with blessings for the sacrifice they make today.”

“You don’t have the right…”

“I HAVE THE MANDATE OF THE UNCONQUERED SUN!” Ogren bellowed. “WE ARE THE TRUE PRINCES OF THE EARTH! IT IS MY RIGHT TO EXPEND THEIR LIVES AS I SEE FIT!”

“You do not rule me,” Tetsu stated flatly, unimpressed. “I’m going to kill Ullah. Anyone who wishes to help is free to come with me.”

“It’s a stupid move,” Aten said, shaking his head.

“Maybe,” Tetsu shrugged, “but at least I’ll be able to sleep peacefully knowing that I tried.”

Pensri fell in beside Tetsu, showing her mute support. Then Messia stood up and took a few steps towards her before Ogren barked. “NO, Messia,” he snapped, “you’re too important to risk on such a foolish mission.”

“But she’s right,” Messia whimpered, plagued with indecision, “they’re Creatures of Darkness, the Unconquered Sun condemns them.”

“He’s right in this case, Messia,” Tetsu told her, “stay with them, they’ll keep you safe. You’re not ready to fight Ullah.”

“You’ve only been Exalted a week,” Ogren scoffed, “what makes you think you’re ready?”

“Ullah’s continued survival is my mistake,” Tetsu answered as she turned to climb the mountain, “it is my responsibility to rectify it.”

#

Roul Meng, Captain of the Dashing Princess, swore like a pirate as he pried the lifeless fingers of the helmsman off the ship’s wheel. The scene on the deck was chaos as the vile creatures boarding his ship slaughtered his men, seemingly every inch slippery with blood and gore. His men had made a good accounting of themselves, several giant carcasses littering the deck, but the beasts seemed to be without number, pressing in from all sides.

“HOLD!” He shouted encouragement to what men remained, several at his back fending off the attackers with long spears. “HOLD THE DOGS! I’M TAKING THEM WITH US TO THE GATES OF MALFEAS!”

Pushing forward on the wheel, the airship lurched nose down as the captain aimed for the row of brutes that slowly approached the front lines. There was no time for anyone to jump, even the bats clinging to the hull didn’t have a chance to escape before they struck, impaling one of the juggernauts before crashing into the ground.

#

“May your next incarnation bring you peace, Captain,” Agani whispered, saluting the officer’s sacrifice as the Daring Princess went up in flames.

Wrath of the Righteous Dragon gripped his Grand Daiklave firmly in response to her emotion as she strode forward with renewed determination. The Warstrider mimicked her movements thanks to the strings of essence that connected her limbs to the machine, piloting it in a manner akin to puppeteering. Raising the Daiklave, she channelled her fiery essence through his frame, a bolt of fire lashing out at the closest siege beast through the essence lens in the Daiklave’s hilt. Still reeling from the explosion of the Dashing Princess, the beast never saw its final death as the beam sliced it in two.

“Any time now, Delani,” Agani whispered, sweating from worry as the siege beasts charged and the giant bat cavalry swooped down from the sky.

#

Skipping from branch to branch, Tetsu and Pensri quickly caught up with the undead Tyrant Lizard that lurched forward at the rear of the armies of the Underworld. Praying that they had gone unnoticed, Tetsu leapt onto the tail as it whipped from side to side, balancing the great beast, running up the spiny ridge towards the howdah on its back. Wasting no time, she vaulted the railing, landing on her feet in front of a shocked audience that included Ullah, Inkfinger, two slaves and a strange ghost clutching an obsidian skull.

“Ah, Tetsu,” Ullah greeted warmly, fanning herself without so much as a glance over her shoulder, “so good of you to drop in.”

“Tetsu?!?” Inkfinger asked incredulously, empty eyesockets staring.

“Inkfinger,” Tetsu greeted with distain. “You’ve looked better.”

“I like your new look,” Ullah complimented, gracefully sliding off her divan. “It suits you much better, I think.”

“This wasn’t my choice…”

“No but I wonder if the choice had been offered if you wouldn’t have taken it anyway,” Ullah mused, glancing over her shoulder with her fan concealing everything but her eyes. “I saw through that hard shell of yours the moment you opened your eyes. You wore your scars like armour to protect the softer side of your soul. Now that side of yourself has been laid bare for all to see and it has made you… vulnerable.”

Tetsu chuckled. “Trying to attack my confidence? Ullah, the only reason we’re talking right now is that you owe me the answer to a single question. After that, I know there’s no way this can be resolved peacefully.”

“Do you really imagine that I taught you enough of Dark Messiah Style that you can hurt me?”

“I’ve learnt new tricks since then. My question is: why did you fish me out of the river?”

“Ah, yes, my masters were quite angry with me for nursing you back to health,” Ullah admitted, “but I managed to convince them that you would be of far greater use as an ally than as a corpse. I still hold that to be true.”

“I would never join you!” Tetsu snarled.

“On the contrary, now that you’re here… it’s inevitable.”

Tetsu dropped to her knees with unnatural speed as Ullah’s war fan sliced through the air where her neck had been moments before, flying in a graceful, circular, arc before returning to the Deathknight’s hand. Using the divan as cover, Tetsu kicked the back rest to launch it forward, forcing Ullah to skip backwards and scattering the slaves chained to it in the process. Suddenly yanked off his feet from behind, Inkfinger screamed as Pensri pulled him over the edge of the howdah, letting him fall to the forest floor. The Lunar’s seven section staff lashed out for the ghost with the obsidian skull but Ullah caught the tip of the weapon with her free hand.

A bright flash of essence nearly blinded the rest of the combatants as Tetsu called upon her essence. The brilliant white aura exploded into a complex halo of nine interlinked circles orbiting a single disc edged in gold whose light fluctuated like the flare of the sun. White energy writhed across her skin as she leapt forward, her fist striking with the force of a thunderbolt. The impact with Ullah’s face produced a shockwave strong enough to tear the howdah apart, blowing off the roof and reducing the balustrades to kindling. The ghost necromancer, slaves and Pensri were pitched off the back of the Tyrant Lizard whole Ullah was hurled away, rocketing over the undead lizard’s head like a meteor before hitting the earth with enough force to make a crater in the ground.

Shocked at her own strength, Tetsu barely managed to retain her focus enough to chase after her target, leaping off the back of the wild beast and sprinting through the trees. The sound of Ullah’s laughter echoed around her as the Deathknight rose to her feet, half the flesh on her face torn away by the blow revealing white bone as dark blood dripped from the grotesque wound. Rearing back, her grin split her face in half as she unleashed an eardrum-shattering scream. Tetsu ran straight into the wall of sound which knocked her off her feet, reverberations in the air tearing her robe as the treetrunks around her burst from the inside. Managing to land on her feet, she slid along the ground several feet before coming to a halt, leaving a long furrow along the ground in her wake.

Ullah strode out of the crater, her gait stuttering unnaturally between fast and slow steps as her teeth elongated into jagged fangs, still cackling insanely as she approached. “That actually hurt,” she commented before biting into her wrist, dark clouds of twisted essence gathering around her as blood slithered from the wound, forming a long crimson whip that coiled itself on the ground beside her. “It’s a great pity but if you will not join me willingly, you must be broken!”

Trying to dodge the first stroke from the lash, Tetsu was a little too slow. The whip burned through her sleeve, the boiling blood opening a gash in her shoulder and sent a bolt of pure pain through her veins, forcing a scream from her lips. The magic of her bracers kicked in, immediately sheathing her in a field of protective white essence that absorbed some of the blow but failed to block it completely. Rolling back out of reach of the successive blows, Ullah forced her into a steady retreat, advancing to keep the Solar within reach.

Snarling, Tetsu grabbed the whip, counting on the sheathe of essence to protect her as she coiled it around her wrist and yanked Ullah off her feet. Not sparing herself a breath of relief as her armour resisted the blood’s baleful effects, she turned and ran, dragging the Deathknight several yards across the rocky ground before flinging her into the air. Spinning uncontrollably, Ullah arrested her flight by grabbing onto a branch as she passed by, catapulting herself back towards Tetsu feet first.

Spinning out of the way, Tetsu was forced to take Ullah’s second blow, a spinning back kick, on her injured shoulder. Grabbing the Deathknight’s robe, Tetsu pushed as she kicked Ullah’s feet out from under her. What she didn’t expect was her enemy’s hair to suddenly come to life, yanking her down on top of Ullah as it tangled itself around her arms and legs. Tetsu gritted her teeth as the strands began to squeeze.

“Usually I prefer to be on top,” Ullah whispered into Tetsu’s ear intimately as her clawed hands slipped through the tears in the Solar’s shredded robe.

She didn’t get very far. Growling through clenched teeth, Tetsu hammered her forehead into the bridge of Ullah’s nose. Tearing herself away from the dazed Deathknight, ripping Ullah’s hair apart in the process, Tetsu eschewed elegance to beat her enemy with her fists. Regaining her wits, Ullah drove her claws at Tetsu’s face, forcing the Solar to grab her wrists which left an opening for the Deathknight to plant her foot on Tetsu’s chest to thrust her away.

“No more games,” Ullah declared, black lightning arcing between her fingertips as she rose into the air. Storm clouds of dark essence with leering, demonic, faces roiling inside gathered around her as the Midnight Caste’s anima banner manifested in all its unholy glory. The dark gems on the black amulet around Ullah’s neck seemed to draw in the black lightning, glowing a cold purple as it absorbed the Deathknight’s essence.

Moving faster than her shadow once more, Tetsu barely dodged the stroke of dark energy that leapt from Ullah’s amulet. The bolt’s impact left a smoking hole in the ground behind her. Taking cover behind a tree, Tetsu was hurled away when Ullah’s second bolt shattered the trunk, sending splinters in all directions. The Solar was doubly thankful for Aten’s gift when the wooden shards bounced harmlessly off her essence shield.

Catching the falling log on her shoulder, Tetsu’s essence surged through her arms as she pitched it back at the Deathknight. Caught off guard, Ullah was knocked out of the air, driven into the earth as the log fell on top of her. The black lightning flickered and died as she wailed and thrashed, though try as she might she was simply too weak to budge the treetrunk on top of her. Approaching cautiously as the Midnight Caste hissed like a cut snake, Tetsu managed to grab her free claw and pin it under her knee before grabbing Ullah’s throat to get the Deathknight’s full attention.

“Who are your masters?” Tetsu demanded.

Ullah laughed weakly. “Darling, you could have just asked. I serve the Deathlord known as the Lover, as will you one day.”

“Not today,” Tetsu spat. “What was your purpose in killing Cathak Markul?”

“I didn’t kill him,” Ullah denied, Tetsu’s grip making her choke out the words, “I just… took… the opportunity…”

Pushing away with a snarl, Tetsu stepped back out of reach. “What opportunity?”

Breathing easier, Ullah sighed. “Markul had an important destiny, when he died prematurely the threads of his fate were unravelled in the Loom. It tangled the fate of this area up so badly that the Sidereals can’t read what’s happening here, I was sent to investigate and turn it to my mistress’ advantage.”

“That’s all Markul was? A smoke screen?”

“Don’t look at me like that, I didn’t kill him… not that I wouldn’t have if I’d had the opportunity. Besides, if not for the snarl they’d have sent the Wyld Hunt after you by now. Enough playing around, darling, let me up. It was fun but the novelty’s wearing off.”

Tetsu snorted. “You take me for a complete idiot?”

“Come now, I know we don’t really want to kill each other. Your potential makes you more valuable to me as an ally than a corpse and you know that I can escape from under this log anyway, just like I escaped from your Lunar friends. Also, I’m willing to offer you… compensations…”

It took Tetsu such an effort of will to throw off the sudden lustful compulsions that assaulted her body and mind that she was driven to her knees, panting breathlessly. “Damn you!” Tetsu swore, grabbing a large rock and lifting it over her head. The Deathknight’s body melted away as she brought it down where Ullah’s face had been grinning at her, impacting with nothing but a dark, bloody, liquid that spattered her face. The pool was quickly absorbed into the ground moments later, disappearing without a trace.

Tetsu’s scream of frustration and anger was drowned out by the fall of the Tyrant Lizard’s body to the ground, stitches breaking open from the force of the fall to spill large maggots from the corpse. Hopping lighting off the head of the felled beast, carrying the obsidian skull in her hand, Pensri skipped happily over to Tetsu, grinning from ear to ear. “Sorry, those three were a real handful,” she apologized, holding out the obsidian skull. “Here, I’m not strong enough to smash it.”

With her rage suddenly given an appropriate focus, Tetsu snatched the obsidian skull from her grip. Considering for a moment, the Eclipse hurled the baleful orb high into the air, keeping one eye on it as it descended before leaping into the air and striking it with a flying kick that shattered it into a thousand pieces.

#

Planting the foot of Wrath of the Righteous Dragon on the dead siege beast’s shoulder, Agani pulled the daiklave from the beast’s chest with a powerful heave of its mechanical limbs. The Dragon was as scraped and dented as the pilot inside was tired and battleworn. Sweating profusely from her exertions in the pilot’s cocoon, the Fire Caste surveyed the battlefield around her through the sensor goggles connected to the Dragon’s eyepiece. The stairs had held, mercifully, as the Brass Pyramids had held off the main thrust of the attack. The outlying mansions hadn’t been so lucky, many of them destroyed as the local dragonbloods led the Legion in running battles while the fell bat cavalry swooped down on them from above.

The sudden screech of a thousand voices that filled the air around her nearly drove the mortals around her to collapse. Zombies staggered and fell like puppets with their strings cut as the magic animating them oozed from their orifices like smoke. The spined bats fell from the sky in a bizarre rain, spattering the mountainside with gore. Wailing and clutching their heads, only the siege beasts remained, momentarily distracted before being driven into a pain-fueled rage as they tore into everything around them.

“DEFENDERS OF THE LINE!” Agani called for the attention of the soldiers around her, her voice enhanced by the Dragon’s external speakers. “REINFORCE THE OTHERS! FOR THE REALM AND THE DRAGONS!”

Her battlecry was echoed as the men as they followed her lead, lust for vengeance tempered with the desire to aid their battle brothers as they charged heedless towards the raging monsters. Agani cleaved the first of the siege beasts in two from behind before she was noticed by the rest but a second beast charge through one of the mansions, shrugging brick and mortar aside as it grabbed her pauldrons, toppling the warstrider. When it hammered its fists into the Dragon’s armoured shell, Agani could hear the wail of crumpling metal with every blow.

As quickly as it had struck, it was blown to pieces by a blast of essence from above. Shoving what remained of it off of her, Agani looked up and grinned when she saw the Dashing Prince, only a little worse for wear, blasting the siege beasts on all sides. “IT’S ABOUT TIME!” Agani called out, waving in thanks.

Jumping from the railing to slide down a nearby rooftop before landing elegantly on the ground, Hathor hefted her gigantic Grand Goremaul over her shoulder and waved back, returning the grin that could be heard in Agani’s voice. “Sorry we’re late, ran into some of these bat-bastards…”

Another siege beast came stomping down the street, a score of men chasing after it with hooked nets, trying to tangle its feet so that the spearmen could finish it off. Stepping into the path of the beast, Hathor casually scratched her nose before leaping into the air and crushing its skull with a single overhead blow, skipping down the bone-plated back before landing casually on the ground again. “As I was saying,” Hathor continued, “looks like you had your hands full here.”

“DID YOU FIND THE NECROMANCER?” Agani asked, thankful that the conversation allowed her some rest.

“Not us,” Hathor answered dubiously, “we thought it was you or Sarro. Nevermind, we have a battle to finish, sister, we best be to it.”

Lifting the Dragon’s daiklave again, Agani followed the Earth Caste with renewed fire burning in her veins. “INDEED.”

#

Dark ichors sprayed from the beast’s punctured eyeball as Kira and Mithras grasped the pommel of the blade, putting their full weight onto it hoping the pierce its brain. The men of the Legion wrestled with limbs caught in nets as spearmen sought chinks in the bony plates that covered it, searching for other vital organs. Eventually, it made only a few final weak thrashes before lying still, leaving the dragonbloods on top of it gasping for breath.

Falling back to the ground, the two sat next to each other, panting breathlessly. After a few moments, they shared a smile which soon became a grins before blossoming into joyful laughter. Relief washed over them as they watched the last of the beasts also fall and the cheers of the victorious were raised to thank the heavens for their continued survival. Slowly standing to raise his voice and sword to join the cries, Mithras helped Kira to her feet.

“You know,” Mithras said, “I think…”

Wasting no words, Kira grabbed his collar, raised herself to the tips of her toes and silenced him with a long, passionate, kiss.

#

Looking across the river, Pensri slid her arm around Tetsu’s waist and rested her head on the Solar’s shoulder as they listened to the feint cries of the Legion echoing throughout the valley. “We did good, didn’t we?” the Lunar asked, looking to her mate for reassurance.

“Better the Legion than the dead,” Tetsu answered dryly. “Or maybe the demon we know than the demon we don’t, either way.”

Placing her hands on Tetsu’s shoulder, Pensri turned her around to look up into her eyes. “You did the right thing when you didn’t have to,” she complimented, “that makes you a real hero.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere,” Tetsu answered seriously, though she couldn’t help the slight twitch in the corner of her mouth or deny the pleasure Pensri’s body evoked pressed against her.

“Oh? But it got me close enough to do this,” Pensri whispered, leaning in for a kiss.

“Ahem,” a new voice interrupted a moment before their lips met. Looking back, Pensri and Tetsu found themselves looking down the length of a moonsilver daiklave as Valdis glared at them from the treeline. “Get your hands off her, harlot, I claimed Tetsu first.”