Six Celestial Swords (50 page)

“That’s just it, Tarfan,” Tristus replied, with as much patience as he had left. “This quest
is
faltering. Xu Liang is a heartbeat away from dropping everything and rushing back to his homeland, certain that it’s going to crumble or disappear now that he’s lost his connection to his empress. We’ve got to get Alere back, and we have to find that last Blade.” Tristus sat down to get his greaves on. “We have to do it while Xu Liang is too weak to leave here.”

“And how are you going to find the white elf?” Tarfan asked. “Determined as he was to put space between him and his fiery cousins, I suppose he could be back in Upper Yvaria by now.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Tristus mumbled, irritated by this lack of support. “Anyway, the Blades glow when they’re near one another.
Dawnfire
was almost literally on fire the night before I met the rest of you. I’ll find him.”

“And what if he doesn’t want to come back?”

“I think he will, once I explain things to him.”

“And if he doesn’t?” the dwarf persisted.

“Then, damn it, I’ll think of something!” Tristus stood, feeling red with anger and with instant remorse for having lost his temper. He lowered his voice again. “I’m going after Alere. Am I going alone?”

“I’ll come,” Taya volunteered.

“No,” Tristus said, and when she began to protest he dropped down to her height and took her firmly by the shoulders. “I can’t let you come with me this time, Taya. I have to ride hard and... Xu Liang may need your help here.” Tristus grasped at the excuse as it formed. “He’s still very weak and I don’t think he can take any more of the elves’ fire healing. He’s exhausted and undernourished, and...”

“All right,” Taya snapped. She tucked her arms tight in front of her chest and added angrily, “I’ll stay.”

Tristus smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, my darling.” He stood and left her in red-faced silence, looking to the others. “Maybe it’s best if I go alone. You should probably stay with your niece, Tarfan, and Fu Ran, you might be the only one capable of reasoning with Xu Liang.”

“What in the ten thousand hells gave you that impression?” the giant wanted to know, speaking for the first time since Tristus returned to the suite.

Tristus shrugged. “I don’t know. You just seem like old friends.”

Fu Ran’s lips curled into a smile that no one found particularly comforting. And then he nodded. “You’re right. My place is here. But I don’t see us letting a man as prone to danger as you setting foot outside of this city by himself.”

“What do you mean?” Tristus asked, genuinely confused by the large man’s statement. “I’m at no greater risk than…what? Tarfan, what are you shaking your head over?”

The old dwarf tossed his hands up in the air and stalked off.

Tristus watched him, perplexed, until one of the bodyguards came forward, speaking in Fanese. Tristus looked at the man, who was looking at him, until he was finished talking. Then he glanced at Fu Ran. “What was that? What did he say?”

Grinning as if amused and possibly impressed, the former guard said, “Guang Ci has just volunteered to ride with you.”

Tristus was torn between appreciation and confusion. “How…does he know where I’m going?”

“He doesn’t,” Fu Ran answered. “He read into our tones and probably heard Xu Liang’s name a few times too many, and got the general idea.”

Tristus thanked the bodyguard in the only way he knew how; by bowing Fanese-style. The gesture was returned rigidly.

“Don’t be too hasty,” Fu Ran warned, still smirking. “It’s probably only his way at making sure you return with the Dawn Blade.”

“He needn’t worry about that,” Tristus assured. “I’ll be back with not only the Dawn Blade, but Alere as well and, if there is any luck left with us at all, the last of the Celestial Swords.”

SHIRISAE WAS WAITING for them at the bridge leading back into the mountain. She was dressed in full armor again, carrying
Firestorm
. It had been unexpected, since her brother had been the one to gladly show Tristus and Guang Ci to the only two horses they had claim to—which included Blue Crane and a terrible sensation of guilt for Tristus, who felt as if he were practically stealing the animal. Tristus would never have guessed Shirisae would leave Vilciel without D’mitri, or that D’mitri would allow it, for that matter. They seemed a close pair of siblings, and with the brother’s sensational distrust, it simply caught Tristus off guard. There might have been another underlying reason for his dismay at seeing the lady elf, but he was inclined to ignore it and to concentrate solely on finding Alere.

“I will accompany you,” Shirisae said, and in such a way as to let them know it wasn’t up for debate.

Tristus only nodded in his surprise, not opposed to having another good fighter at his side, which she had already proven to be. As well
Firestorm
might be helpful in locating
Aerkiren
and its endearingly obdurate bearer.

They were halfway across the bridge before Tristus decided to ask any questions. “Why are you so willing to assist us? Please, don’t mistake me. I am grateful, of course, but everything you’ve done...it...”

“My people may live in seclusion, but we are not as xenophobic as certain others of our kind. We will assist and ally with all who are found to be worthy by our god.”

“What...makes us worthy?”

Shirisae’s golden eyes viewed him from within her black helm. She looked away before saying, “
Firestorm
, the blade given us by the Phoenix, has chosen you, Tristus Edainien. As well, your sorcerer believes that your blade and mine are drawn to one another—as soul mates, I am inclined to believe. That the Phoenix might have forged two blades in its sacred flame and allowed them to find one another is a sign, as far as I am concerned.” She drew a long pause, then added, “Your allies are now my allies, knight, and your cause has become mine as well.”

“Shirisae,” Tristus said, shocked at this level of devotion. “I am in your debt, my lady.”

The Phoenix Elf practically glared at him, and said sharply, “You owe me nothing. We are...united in this, and as equals.”

In his confusion, Tristus could only stare. Shirisae suddenly rode ahead, undoubtedly to escape his gaze. He reminded himself to apologize later for his lacking manners.

XU LIANG DIDN’T have the strength to do anything more than lie back and stare into the lush folds of black that constituted the canopy high overhead. He’d spent himself by sitting up before, insisting that he was still in control, knowing now that he was utterly out of it. The strength of his purified soul had left him, used to the last strand of its heightened essence just to keep him alive after he’d lost consciousness. It was that level of consciousness that gave him control. So long as he remained in a quasi-meditative state, his magic, his awareness—his inner strength—all were at their peak...and he could communicate with the Empress. The long hours of blackness, devoid of the smallest thought, had returned him fully to his body, which was not in its best condition, especially after he’d abused it in the struggle against the giant. He hadn’t slept for long weeks, nor had he eaten. He wouldn’t be able to do either normally for some time. He didn’t want to sleep, after the horrifying dreams brought on by his near-death state and there would be nothing he could eat that he wouldn’t reject first, until his stomach was conditioned again to accepting it.

He felt useless and helpless, and farther away from Sheng Fan than ever before. He didn’t dare return without the Swords, not unless he planned to simply die by the Empress’ side. They needed the Swords to fight Chaos, which could only grow stronger before it finally rose in whatever form it planned to take. Was the Empress still protected from the malevolence that had made her ill and given her nightmares before his departure? Had she used all of his training and kept her concentration whole? Or had his failure put her in the same weakened state, vulnerable to attack from whatever, or whomever cared to deliver it?

And what of his own nightmares? Could he believe anything he’d experienced? Half of it was memory—Song Lu, for example, his spirit coming down from its constant perch upon Xu Liang’s shoulder to make his haunting more apparent—but some of it seemed as messages, warnings...if he dared to believe them.

Jiao Ren turned against him? And Han Quan as well? Why?
Do they truly believe I am no better than those I expelled from the Imperial Court, that I would seek to rule beneath the Empress, with her no more than my shadow puppet? And now it seems I have other problems as well. Alere has disappeared, perhaps believing me dead, and Tristus...his concerns are obvious and now I am faced with Song Lu all over again.

Xu Liang’s shoulder began to throb. He closed his eyes with no hope of getting any sleep, and begged his dead Prince for forgiveness as his thoughts fell still and became as wordless silence in the dark.

It was a darkness that did not last. It seemed as if barely an instant had passed when light pressed through Xu Liang’s eyelids, commanding him to wake. He opened his eyes slowly, shielding them from the yellow glow with his hand, peering away from the bed at...himself? A mirror? He hadn’t recalled any present near the bed before.

The individual lying down on a bed draped in precisely the same folds of black looked stark white against the pitch dark of the bedding and his own long hair, which would not have been discernible from the sheets, if not for the way the light shone almost blue upon the silky strands. The man, all but lost in the layers of black, was too thin. He’d always lacked muscle, but now he also lacked vigor. There were dark circles under his eyes, which showed redness from stress, weariness, and even crying. Upon waking from one nightmare into another, the shock, frustration, and shame had been too much. Those things still haunted the face looking back at him, the mouth drawn into a depressed frown, adding a layer of grim to the overall haggard appearance.

“Damned unsightly!” someone confirmed.

The gruff voice painted an instant image upon Xu Liang’s mind, and spared him the effort of looking for the speaker. He wondered, though, at the scraping sound that accompanied it, like metal against stone.

“I’d cringe away myself, waking up to a face like that!” the dwarf continued. “But, seeing as how you haven’t had much for beauty sleep, we’ll forgive you looking like a mountain goblin!”

“Tarfan Fairwind,” Xu Liang sighed, unable to absorb the cheer his friend offered, in his uniquely abrasive way. “What in the name of the Jade Emperor are you doing?”

“Well,” the dwarf huffed, as if straining over something. “In case you haven’t noticed, this room was constructed for dragons. The windows are about two hundred feet away—or thereabouts—and I’ve never met a wilting flower that hasn’t picked up just a little with some good old fashioned sunlight on its petals. I simply borrowed a few mirrors and channeled the golden glow of a fine, crisp mountain afternoon right to the bedside. You should be warming up in no time.”

“The room feels warm enough already,” Xu Liang said tiredly, and in spite of the chill he felt seeping beneath his skin, seeming to make his bones ache.

“It’s not a natural heat,” Tarfan grumbled. “And it does nothing to penetrate the gloom in this glorified cave. Now, just lie there and soak up the light, mage! My niece is preparing you a fine broth to start negotiating proper eating habits with your sensitive stomach.”

Xu Liang grimaced at the thought of swallowing anything. “Please, Tarfan. I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I appreciate your opinion, but it’ll be going down just the same. No one’s asking you to enjoy it.”

Xu Liang peered over his hand, but he only caught a glimpse of the dwarf while Tarfan moved from one standing mirror to the next, positioning and repositioning so that the reflected light shone evenly around the bed. A disturbing image of being force fed by dwarves made him sink his head back down into the pillow with an inaudible sigh. “How could I have been so careless?” he asked softly of himself.

The dwarf happened to overhear. “I think it was care, actually, that got you where you are now.”

Xu Liang closed his eyes, not wanting to hear the forthcoming lecture.