Six Celestial Swords (38 page)

“You would have nothing to build on. A fortress without a foundation is doomed to crumble. Leave him.”

If I leave him, I will take another! My vengeance will be sated!

“I fear it will never be sated, and I hope you never find another vessel for your madness, though I know you will search. I advise you to search far from here, else we will find ourselves in this predicament again.”

Tristus wanted to laugh. He felt as if someone had just said something utterly absurd to him, but he couldn’t remember what, and when he opened his eyes, he wasn’t laughing at all, but staring silently at Alere. The elf hovered over him, looking uncharacteristically concerned...and unbelievably alive.

Tristus frowned, unable to feel anything but confusion. “What’s happened? What’s the matter? You look as if you’ve seen a ghost. More of them, I should say.”

“Never mind what I saw,” the elf snapped. “You defied the gods.”

In the next moment, Alere’s stern features let in a hint of something softer, appreciation perhaps. Relief? He said more, gently, “And you have saved my father’s sword from certain destruction. I am greatly indebted to you, Tristus Edainien.”

“As am I,” someone new said.

Tristus turned his head to look upon the slender armored form of the female Phoenix warrior. She’d removed her helm, revealing the vibrant red of her bound hair and the stunning yellow-fair of her complexion. Scarlet lips smiled and she said, “I am called Shirisae. The weapon you saved is
Firestorm
, the blade once wielded by the Priestess of the Flame herself, living incarnation of Ahjenta the Phoenix, and also my mother. Let us guide you personally through this forbidding landscape, to the New Home of our people, Vilciel.”

M
ORNING BROUGHT MORE mist, along with escorted passage north.

What Xu Liang had intended to be a temporary surrender, turned out more as a temporary alliance. However, he knew that the shock of the night’s events was to blame for the sudden calm that had come over everyone and that once it subsided, circumstances would be likely to change. He was hoping this opportunity would enable him to build a more lasting allegiance, one that involved
Firestorm
returning with him to Sheng Fan. With the religious attachment the fire elves had to the Blade, it seemed that a difficult task lay ahead of him. Hours of meditation had not brought him any nearer to resolving the matter, but had only informed him, through the Empress, that the Dragon continued its ascent to the surface of Sheng Fan. He assured her of his progress and that he and the Blades would soon be with her.

“Skytown,” Tarfan grumbled. “A lost city of unspeakable wealth! A fairy tale! It doesn’t exist!”

“Perhaps these elves only named their city after the legend,” Xu Liang suggested, glancing over the rest of the company from his place atop Blue Crane.

Taya rode with the supplies for now, resting not uncomfortably in front of the meticulously arranged equipment. She was led by the bodyguard Wan Yun. Cai Zheng Rui, another of the surviving guards, walked behind them while a conscience-stricken Alere rode upon Breigh even farther back. Tarfan walked close to Xu Liang, as did Gai Ping. Fu Ran walked ahead with Guang Ci and a fellow guard Shi Dian while the two Phoenix Elves—calling themselves Shirisae and D’mitri—led the way on their ebon horses. Tristus, exhausted after his feat, rode atop Guang Ci’s horse, slumped forward in slumber.

Xu Liang let his gaze linger on the knight, recalling how Tristus insisted that he would walk with the others, just before fainting. He could not remember exactly what he’d done, but after feeling the rage within him and seeing that no one had died, he seemed a little afraid to close his eyes, as if he feared that the fury hadn’t actually gone away and would strike at his allies while he slept.

You have nothing to be afraid of for now
, Xu Liang thought. And then he shifted his focus ahead of the caravan, and wondered when this dismal, featureless landscape would end.

By nightfall he was still left to wonder. Camp was set again in the harsh winter landscape of Lower Yvaria. Though there was more room now in the guards’ two tents after the loss of three of their fellows, Xu Liang’s shelter away from civilization was still cramped. The segregation the guards felt and enacted due to their station and their limited ability to communicate with the others continued. Fortunately, Xu Liang did not need space to lie down, only to sit. He would find his place when he was done strengthening the bond between himself and the animal that he would have been unable to make this journey without.

Xu Liang stroked Blue Crane’s plush pelt and let the sleek beast nuzzle his shoulder, glancing to Alere when the white elf arrived after a late scout. Though it was evident that he felt remorse for his attack on Shirisae, the feeling seemed only due to the near loss of
Aerkiren
. Alere didn’t trust the Phoenix Elves and had made his feelings no secret, least of all to the Phoenix Elves.

Xu Liang, though furious after the near loss of the Storm and Twilight Blades, had been careful not to scold the elf. He calmly explained to him that the Celestial Swords must never be brought against each other. Alere had replied too simply, claiming to understand. Xu Liang feared with each hour that Alere would lose faith in this quest and leave to satisfy his vengeance some other way.

The elf watched Xu Liang, even as he slid out of Breigh’s saddle, seeming to know Xu Liang’s thoughts. He said telepathically, “Even if we lose all respect for one another, know that I wish to see the Swords united. I consider myself an enemy of chaos, and all who would allow it to pervade the lands and lives of innocents.”

Xu Liang decided to speak as honestly as the elf was. “I have not lost any respect for you, Alere. I am only concerned with your judgment.”

Alere stroked Breigh’s muzzle and then let her wander away. Even though he looked directly at Xu Liang, it seemed as if he was ignoring him. “My father took up
Aerkiren
to vanquish the shadows that choked and smothered our people. It was a losing battle and so is mine, but I will not abandon it, just as he did not abandon his fight. However, I will choose who I will fight beside...and who I will not.”

“What is it that makes you despise the Phoenix Elves so terribly?” Xu Liang finally asked.

Alere’s features held disturbingly placid. He said, “There is not an elf you could bring before me whom I would not despise if his blood was not Verressi.”

That was not what Xu Liang expected to hear, but somehow he was not surprised.

“They abandoned us,” Alere explained, though no explanation was asked of him. “Hundreds of years ago, we turned to our cousins for help while we drowned in the shadows and choked on our own blood, and wept as no elf has ever done, ridding our own homes of the ghosts the Keirveshen left us.”

Xu Liang might have spoken just then, but Alere was not finished. Traces of anger were beginning to surface, just as they had the night before, nearly costing the loss of two Swords.

“Understand,” Alere said, “that the spirit of an elf slain by darkness can be just as dangerous as the darkness itself. It was fortunate for what remains of my family that our own murdered kin elected not to linger in our absence. Though I returned prepared to perform the task, I’m not so sure now that I would have been able to slay my father’s spirit. I did not have to test the powerful magic that would have been required, or my resolve. It is fortunate for these new allies of yours that I did not.”

“You feel betrayed by your own people,” Xu Liang summarized. “You may find this difficult to believe, but I understand. It is not abandonment that the Fanese people commit against one another, however. It is aggression.” As it dawned on him, Xu Liang added, “We, as bearers of the Celestial Swords, must avoid both.”

It amazed him at moments like this how very little he knew about the legend he had put so much of his life into understanding. He had done so at Emperor Song Bao’s behest…because the Emperor had foreseen the rise of Chaos? Xu Liang wished that he knew.

Alere shook his head stiffly. “You will have to satisfy yourself with my allegiance to you. You cannot ask me to ally myself with those who have indirectly murdered my people.”

Still petting Blue Crane, Xu Liang bowed slightly, accepting the elf’s terms for now. There was not much else that he could do.

“There is one more thing I would say to you,” Alere announced before leaving. Xu Liang waited and the elf said, “I saw what you did for the knight.”

“Did you?” Xu Liang replied, holding the elf’s gaze in wonder at what he might say next.

“I saw you challenge Ilnon, and defeat him.”

Xu Liang thought back uneasily on the thing his spirit had faced in Tristus Edainien. He could still feel the painful intensity of its anger as he reached out of himself to calm it. At length he said, “It was no defeat, but a negotiation. I cannot even be certain if it succeeded beyond the moment.”

Alere stepped closer. “You did not negotiate for Tristus, though. You did it because you had to, after inciting the rage within him.”

Xu Liang frowned and Alere continued.

“Tristus was not the only one who heard your spirit calling out in desperation when the Blades locked,” he said. “I heard your panic as well, and it occurred to me also, though not immediately, that only one possessed by the spirit of a god could challenge the gods and survive the encounter. You and I both knew that, through sheer force of will—the unmatched determination of blind rage—the Blades would be recovered.”

Xu Liang said nothing, still meeting the elf’s cold gaze. The son of Sheng Fan, servant of the Empress and counsel to the wise, was insulted beyond measure by this ‘barbarian’ creature’s undertones. However, the scholar and explorer, who had recently become leader to a strange but endearing band of allies, absorbed the elf’s concerns with understanding.

Unaware of this internal debate, Alere continued. “You did it for the Swords, not for the bearers, of whom Tristus may yet be one.”

Xu Liang showed the elf nothing of the sting he’d just delivered. He said quietly, “Now I understand your opening comment. It is you who has lost respect for me.”

Alere stood silent in the following moments, revealing nothing. At some length, he said, “It was my action that forced yours, Xu Liang. And it is always consideration for others that inspires Tristus. Even in what seems like self-pity, I have come to realize that his regret is more for those he has been told he cannot protect than for himself, even though he was rejected by those same people. I believe,” the elf concluded, “that I have lost respect for us both.”

Having said that, Alere left and Xu Liang let him. There was nothing more to discuss. An argument would satisfy only pride, pride that was damaged further when Fu Ran finally showed himself.

In the shadows cast by the torches posted among the tents, even one of Fu Ran’s incredible size could conceal himself. It angered Xu Liang at first to think that such had been the former guard’s intention. However, he quickly realized that any stealth on the giant’s part was not to eavesdrop, but to have the advantage over Alere if he’d been forced to confront the elf physically. Xu Liang sighed almost inaudibly and took a moment to regain control of his emotions. He didn’t realize how much he would miss actual sleep until he’d gone this long without it.

“He’s wrong,” Fu Ran said, and Xu Liang questioned him silently. The former guard explained himself. “Whatever you did—just as everything you do—it was for the Empire.” Before Xu Liang could decide how to take his disapproving tone, the larger man added, “You’re killing yourself for Sheng Fan and what has it done for you?”

“It has given me life, Fu Ran,” Xu Liang answered without hesitation.

“Xu Hong and Xu Mi gave you life,” Fu Ran contradicted, and it was clear in his expression that he had no idea what to make of the sudden, caustic expression that came to his former master’s face.

“Xu Hong gave me the ambition to serve at the Imperial City,” Xu Liang told him. It was a rare instance of escape from the respect and decency that was not only expected in Sheng Fan, but that was also one’s moral obligation to uphold in matters of family. The mystic, who would have been severely reprimanded if Emperor Song Bao had been alive to hear such words, caught himself on the brink of sharing the Xu family’s most guarded secret, and fell instantly silent. Remorse filled him, followed by shame as he realized that none of it was for Xu Hong.

Fu Ran placed a hand lightly on Xu Liang’s shoulder, and it was all the mystic could do to refrain from shrugging away from him. Fu Ran said, “You told me you didn’t want me back as I was, and the more I think about it, the more I remember why I can never serve you again.” He lifted his hand, perhaps unaware of the needling pain even that cautious weight had inspired, and folded his tattooed arms across his broad chest. He remembered not to smile when he added, “I didn’t come here to be one of your drones, Xu Liang. I came here as your friend.”

The gesture did not go entirely unappreciated, but Xu Liang needed to meditate. He had expended far too much energy without putting enough effort into recovery.