Five Kingdoms Page 9

  “The conflict sounds unpleasantly familiar in tone,” Xu Liang commented.

  “This is not Sheng Fan,” Fu Ran said to him. “The fools of this region fought each other for sovereignty over land that no one else wanted. Meanwhile the true king of Aer capitalized on trade at the coast, got fat, and sired plenty of children. All of the bloodshed here was meaningless.”

  Again, the mystic cast a look of disagreement and dissatisfaction upon Fu Ran. Again, Fu Ran ignored it. “Regardless of this area’s history, those beast-men are murderers and thieves. They lurk in hiding, waiting for travelers to happen along, who they then kill and rob. They’re the same as pirates, but unsightlier.”

  “They’re not the same,” Alere stated while he approached. “Aerkiren sang in their presence.”

  The difficulty in communicating with Fu Ran was that he refused to listen when a topic unsettled him. A population of men who were also beasts was unsettling, yes, but not to be dismissed simply because they had gone. Even if they were to be compared to pirates, Fu Ran, of all people, knew the tenacity of such men. Xu Liang would not rule out the possibility of a second attack, and he would not overlook the feelings of entitlement or revenge they might have carried. It was upon him now to conceive of a plan that would carry them from an established danger, one that Alere’s statement had painted worse.

  Tristus arrived only a few steps behind the white elf, and contributed his own theory. “Do you believe the Twilight Blade responded to the centaurs, or to the darkness of that cave you mentioned some of them were lurking in?”

  Alere said simply, “I did not investigate the cave. That’s also possible.”

  “They were beasts without a doubt,” Fu Ran said. “But they didn’t look like shadow beasts.”

  “Not necessarily, no,” Tristus agreed.

  “They might not have been,” Alere concurred. “But recall that it was difficult to tell with Vorhaven.”

  Tristus nodded, conceding to what he had witnessed.

  Fu Ran sighed deeply, but evenly, and continued to observe the now derelict tree line.

  “We will continue through the forest,” Xu Liang decided. It seemed the most favorable option, simply for its shorter distance. The centaurs might have initiated their attack from the forest, but they had not confined themselves to it. The larger of their numbers had been hiding among the rocks, and they held the clear advantage on such terrain. Xu Liang reiterated, “The forest will be the swiftest route. It is also possible that the centaurs will not expect us to continue forward. They may have gone further south in order to lay another trap, or they may have been witness to power in the Blades that has inspired them to reconsider further attack.”

  Tristus nodded, because he seemed to believe that to be a legitimate outcome. Alere remained noncommittally silent, and Fu Ran heaved a shorter breath that alluded to worry that they would be walking into another confrontation.

  A patch of deep red drew Xu Liang’s attention beyond Alere and Tristus. He observed the wayward stallion for only a moment before nodding in its direction.

  Tristus and Alere both looked over their shoulders. The knight’s gaze lingered the longest, and he eventually sighed before heading off to reclaim the horse.

  “Sylvashen appears particularly dissatisfied with the environs,” Xu Liang commented, and it brought him to the subject of Alere’s mount. “While Breigh seems at home.”

  “The terrain is different than home,” Alere said. “But there are similarities overall.”

  “But there’s more to it than that,” Xu Liang said, prompting for further explanation. Having witnessed the centaurs, he’d formed some speculations about a horse bred by elves for quietly and effortlessly traversing slick and uneven ground.

  “Yes, there is,” Alere admitted with ease that was perhaps singular to him. He whistled to Breigh, who had been sharing rest in a patch of exposed grass alongside Blue Crane. The mare took slow, though immediate steps from the other horse, quickening to a light trot before reaching her master. There seemed no place among the rocks where she could not find footing.

  Xu Liang examined her closely for the first time. Her snowy pelt was of a thicker variety, the texture not much different than her mane and tail, though it was still short overall. She herself was shorter than the other animals, though she was no pony. Xu Liang had attributed that to her being the only mare present, but observing her form, he noticed some minor differences that set her apart from what was perhaps best labeled her equine cousins. Xu Liang paid particular attention to her hooves, which were not shod. Alere made that clear by instructing Breigh to raise one leg. He caught her ankle and gently turned the hoof into view. As suspected, the structure was not typical of a horse. It was cloven and above the heel were small claws similar to those of a goat. She was indeed a creature bred in the mountains.

  “Verressi horses in legend were said to be the offspring of wild horses and mountain goats,” Alere explained, letting go Breigh’s ankle.

  Xu Liang bowed his head, accepting and appreciating the information.

  “I’ve heard there are similar breeds in Arjhen,” Fu Ran said. “I’ve never seen one, though. Pride’s course falls short of that region. In fact, I’ll be meeting my ship just on the border once we’ve finished getting the lot of you to safer ground.”

  He nodded toward the north, indicating the route he intended to take.

  “It will be wise not to retrace this path,” Xu Liang said, and he looked at Fu Ran. Their gazes met, conveying in silence that neither of them looked forward to separation.

  The arrival of Shirisae put an end to the wordless conversation.

  “The keirveshen were hiding in the shadows of your cliffs, weren’t they?” Fu Ran said to the lady elf as she came to stand just behind and to the side of Xu Liang’s rock.

  “They were,” Shirisae confirmed.

  “So, that may be the reason for the magic of Alere’s sword to awaken,” Fu Ran continued. “Tristus may be right.”

  Xu Liang nodded, and then concluded, “We will be cautious.”

  They entered the forest with care; care to the animals, to themselves, and in regards to the possibility of further attack. Movement became less of a hazard once the rocks were behind them. There was a small bridge to cross, but it was managed through patient effort. Even the yak fit between its broken railing with room to spare. No items, nor any life was lost, though it occurred to Tristus that a wrong step could have equated to certain disaster. The breaks in the ground seemed as deep as the mountain canyons of Andaria, but there was only the smallest of spaces through which a body could fall. It would tempt recklessness in many, that a body might simply leap across the space. Perhaps they could, but to gauge such a jump incorrectly…

  He felt grateful when they left the rift and the bridge behind them. The cave and the neighboring ruins became the next concern. Both appeared truly abandoned, but Alere had assured him that their state had been identical, moments before the centaurs emerged.

  “I’m grateful you weren’t hurt,” he said to Alere, who was not scouting ahead just now. In light of the circumstances, everyone agreed—including Alere—that it would be safest to stay together.

  In response to Tristus’ sentiment, the elf merely looked at him. The look spoke very little, so Tristus assumed Alere was preoccupied in thought. Riding roughly in pairs and with Taya currently sat with Xu Liang, Tristus had no one else to fall back on for conversation in Alere’s silence. He decided that he would make do, and paid better notice to their surroundings.

  Their caravan included the bodyguards taking point in pairs, all but Gai Ping, who rode alongside Xu Liang. The elder occupied the mystic’s right flank while Shirisae stayed on the left with Tarfan as a passenger. Tristus and Alere were immediately behind their widest group with Fu Ran taking up the rear. The yak was secured to his mount, plodding along indifferently now tha
t they’d navigated away from the scent of battle.

  Guang Ci and Shi Dian passed between the ruins and the cave first, stirring the interest of nothing. The rest of the line followed suit. Tristus glanced toward Aerkiren’s sheath in the moments he and Alere were moving past the mouth of the cave. The weapon did begin to glow within its casing, but looking to the darkness that may have been disturbing it, he saw no traces of either demons or ambush. He recalled that the light of the fire had kept them at bay within the furnace below Vilciel. It may have been that something was doing so here as well.

  Looking to the sky, he noticed the beginnings of snowfall drifting through the tops of the trees. Their lean sharp branches stabbed into the mist that now hung higher overhead. He wondered if there was any hope of a blue sky over this particular area. The place seemed cursed and all but forgotten.

  Tristus brought his gaze back down, by way of a short cliff face. Considering the terrain that they’d just come over, it seemed likely that the forest would also harbor a variety of rock formations of its own, particularly if it led into the mountains. That opened up further opportunity for ambush, but the forest was very still currently. The air was damp and cold, transferring mostly the sounds of their own animals. The area smelled of moss and damp wood.

  “Have you noticed anything?” he asked Alere, hoping that the elf would answer this time.

  “Nothing worthy of note,” Alere replied.

  Tristus was relieved to hear a voice, and sought to carry the conversation. “I would have thought anything in this wood worthy of note.”

  “And you’ve probably already made note of everything to yourself,” Alere quipped.

  Tristus smiled at him, though only briefly. Afterward, he looked over his shoulder, where Fu Ran maintained a vigilant watch all around them. He felt assured that one of them would be bound to notice anything sinister.

  It was in the midst of that thought when Xu Liang signaled for their caravan to draw to a halt. Looking forward, it appeared that Guang Ci had initiated the action; the guardsman’s arm was still upheld. He looked back to see that they were coming to a stop before turning forward again. They had come to the start of a narrow passage through two stone rises. The extension of mounded earth to the right of them formed a softer, but still impassable wall by horse. To their left lay more forest and the continuation of the cliff face. There was no telling how far it went, just as there had not been regarding the crack at the bridge, or the woods themselves.

  “I feel that we ought not pass through here,” Tristus said quietly. Even speaking the words, he could not honestly say that he felt better about being directed north indefinitely—perhaps all the way to sea—or with tracing their way back through forest they’d already traveled.

  A wind drew up from the forest floor, stirring dust, debris, and snow. It spiraled erratically about them, fanning the lower lengths of Xu Liang’s hair and billowing Shirisae’s red locks beside him, as if the elf’s mane were temporarily a banner of fire against the black of night. The wind did not last, and in the wake of its passing, a form appeared in the pass. Though much of the figure was shadowed by the gloom of the forest, it was evident that the individual was taller than an ordinary man, and possessed a mantle of antlers.

  The guards drew their weapons at once, as training and their duty to their lord required. Tristus’ own instincts in that regard had him put his hand to the hilt of his sword. He noted in the edge of his view that Alere was behaving no differently. Ahead of them, Shirisae reached to release the straps that held Firestorm to her back. Tarfan seemed prepared to avoid her draw when Xu Liang reached out an arm to halt further action.

  “Do not be lured,” he advised.

  “You are lured already,” came the soft, but well-projected voice of a woman. Her words tapered into a peculiar echo that resonated off the earthen corridor. “You are lured by your own motivations…to survive…to achieve….”

  It appeared that she was stepping forward, but in actuality her presence swelled. As if she were some manner of specter, her form stretched to a size that only just allowed her to fit within the passage. Only, her intangible being was not bound by her physical environment, seeming to move through it. A face of curious beauty with hair the color of the naked trees and eyes a feral green loomed over them. Her torso became draped in the mist and her leonine lower half sat as if to block their way, though it was possible to see entirely through her spectral presence.

  “Witchcraft,” Tarfan whispered, and a part of Tristus was inclined to agree. The Order Masters would have considered this display precisely that. But at the same time, the presence of this being felt different than mere illusion.

  Beside him, Alere let go the hilt of Aerkiren. By Tristus’ experience with the elf, that meant that he felt that there was something here that surpassed mortal powers.

  Augmenting the sense of that, Xu Liang bowed his head to the creature before them. And it was in that moment that Tristus also let his hand drift from his sword.

  Shirisae did not know whether or not to trust what had come before them, but she had placed her trust in Xu Liang. She would wait before taking action, at least long enough to allow the mystic his own methods. She lowered her hand from the shaft of Firestorm and heard Tarfan let out a sigh behind her. Of course, the dwarf had nothing to fear of her drawing her blade; she could have done so easily without so much as splitting one of his beard hairs. Dwarves were worrisome creatures at times.

  The translucent form of the being in the pass seemed not to care one way or the other whether or not weapons were drawn against her. That may have given credence to the spirit nature of her, that she feared no blade wielded by mortals and that she was not offended by what did not threaten her. It could yet have been some form of illusion, but Shirisae would not disregard that the creature had some command over nature, even if it were only in spells. Xu Liang seemed to respect at least that much as well. Being a sorcerer of the elements, perhaps he felt they shared some common ground. It was not easy for Shirisae to know what motivated or inspired Xu Liang. For now, she felt no immediate threat. She would follow his lead.

  “The earthbound walk a helpless path of curiosity,” Xu Liang said to the oversized form of the creature in the pass. “We are lured by many things, yes.”

  “You are not earthbound,” the forest spirit contradicted at once, and again without seeming offended or offensive. “And you are not alone.”

  Xu Liang said nothing in response.

  Shirisae looked into and through the bright eyes of the forest spirit. Those eyes looked over all of them, and the spirit seemed to smile. The look was of a creature aware of its power and undaunted by the power of others. It was arrogance, but at the same time it was somehow innocent. It was in some ways like the presence of the Phoenix.

  In some ways, Shirisae wanted to reject that—the elves of Vilciel revered only one without reservation. It was the Phoenix who had led them to salvation from the possibility of extinction, the same level of defeat Alere’s people had been brought to, but no gods seemed interested in coming to their aid in the cold mountains. The Verressi Elves had been forsaken, and if not for the Phoenix, Shirisae’s people would have been also. If this creature was in any way the equal of a god, Shirisae was tempted to defy her openly.

  Tarfan must have sensed her tensing; he reached forward and laid his thick hand upon her arm. “Easy, lass,” he whispered.

  Shirisae continued to delay action.

  “I am the guardian of the forsaken,” the spirit continued, her voice resounding off the surface of all that surrounded her. “Those who have surrendered their voices to the Void, where none may hear them.”

  “This is not the Void,” Shirisae argued instinctively. She was beginning to think this was somehow a lie, though she could not ignore the fact that Alere did not protest the claim the being made with its presence.

  “The Void is ev
erywhere,” the spirit answered. “And it is anywhere. This hour, it is here. One of you is forsaken, and it is only that one for whom I will open this pass. If any other than that one should come forward, the way will close and you will all remain in the Void forever.”

  Like a queen perched upon her throne, the spirit settled herself within the entrance of the corridor between the cliffs. She cast her gaze down upon them and said, “Decide.”

  All of them looked at one another. No one seemed entirely convinced of her claim, nor of the game she seemed intent to play with them. Not even Tristus rushed to volunteer himself as the condemned member of their party.

  “This is preposterous,” Shirisae said.

  Shortly following her words, Xu Liang slid himself from Blue Crane’s saddle. The notion put forward in that moment was unacceptable. Xu Liang, of all of them, was chosen. He had been blessed by the Phoenix. No sooner had the thought formed, Xu Liang took a step toward the forest spirit. Taya reached for his sleeve, in the precise instant that Shirisae straightened in the saddle to protest.

  Tarfan put a hand on her arm once again. “Patience, lassie.”

  “What is he doing?” she heard Tristus whisper to Alere.

  Alere had no ability to know better than Tristus, and gave no verbal reply.

  Shirisae looked over her shoulder to see what expression he might have made at the knight, and found him looking directly at her instead. His audacity remained offensive, but she had greater concerns at the moment. “This is a trick,” she said.

  If Xu Liang heard her, he did not respond. The mystic slipped away from Taya and walked without trepidation toward the spectral form blocking the path. The clear light her image gave off made his coloring suddenly brighter. He stood in splendorous layers of blue, green, and black against the soft tone of his skin, his hands placed together. He bowed in a display of deference to either her potential ancientness or power—maybe both—saying nothing.

  The sounds of movement in the forest behind them drew Shirisae’s attention over her shoulder once again. The others were also looking, undoubtedly descrying the forms pressing through the fog, those of enemies they’d already faced. The silhouettes of their antlers resembled branches, making it seem as if the trees themselves were coming to life. Though the centaurs did not charge or gesture any form of aggression just yet, Shirisae took Firestorm from its harness. The others drew weapons as well, and Shirisae afforded a look in Xu Liang’s direction.