L5r - scroll 04 - The Phoenix (24 page)

His jade-studded katana sliced off the fore claws of the first one. The beast tried to sting with its tail, but Tadaka kicked its body and sent it tumbling back into its fellows. Another scorpion's stinger struck the first creature as it flew. Where the stinger hit, green magic leaked out. The monster fell to the floor and dissolved into festering black liquid.

The other scorpions bore in on the Master of Earth. They snapped with their palm-sized claws and lashed out with their long tails. Tadaka batted the blows aside with his katana. He sliced the stinger from one, but it retreated before he could run his sword through its head. When its fellows pressed Tadaka, it scuttled in again, clacking its claws.

The Master of Earth was running out of room. Behind him, the living iron door waited with open jaws and grasping coils, liefore him, the giant scorpions slashed and stung. The walls of the room were springing to life as well. Hideous shapes, like demons being born, formed out of the ribs of the vault. Amid the chaos stood Junzo, concentrating, directing the attack— laughing.

A stinger caught the silk below Tadaka's left elbow. He cut the tail off with his sword, but a claw sliced a deep gash below his right knee.

Tadaka staggered back and was nearly caught by the writhing shapes in the door. He wheeled to his right, only to find demonic statues climbing down from their perches in the high ceiling.

The Master of Earth plucked his round hat from his head. A quick chant turned it into an expanding net of ironlike reeds. He tossed the hat on the remaining scorpions; their claws and legs quickly became entangled in the mesh.

Tadaka leapt over the pile and flung himself at Junzo. He drew his wakizashi with his left hand and slashed with both swords as he landed.

The undead shugenja merely vanished into red mist before the blows struck home.

Tadaka wheeled, searching for his enemy.

Junzo stood near the door, waving his hands in the air, gathering red magics. The abominations rallied toward him; soon none stood between the sorcerer and the Master of Earth. The Black Scrolls rolled themselves closed, as if making room for their master to fight.

By the time Tadaka realized what was happening, it was almost too late.

Junzo spread his hands, palm outward. Deadly crimson energies blasted forth. They screamed across the room.

Quickly, the Master of Earth sheathed his wakizashi, drew forth his jade fan, and flicked the fan open.

The jade artifact took the brunt of the blast, but the force knocked Tadaka onto his backside. The fan deflected the energies, like water bouncing off a stone. Crimson magic exploded against the wall opposite the door. The whole room shook. Dust fell from the ceiling, and the blasted wall shuddered and crumbled.

Tadaka saw his salvation. Beyond the new hole in the wall lay a passage—escape.

The Phoenix Master of Earth rose to his feet. The remains of his jade fan fell to the flagstones and shattered into black shards. Junzo's forces reeled from the power of their master's attack. Summoning all the energy he could muster, Tadaka drew on the purity within his own body. The jade of his soul would be his most potent weapon. If it failed, he was doomed.

Tadaka's mind reached out to the evil sorcerer and felt his taint. Thrusting his hands out, Tadaka sent the jade purity within himself to fight for possession of Junzo's body. Power crashed in coruscating waves.

Junzo staggered under the impact, and then screamed. The power of the spell ran wild, shattering the iron beasts nearest the sorcerer. Junzo's limbs stiffened. His skin cracked, and began to turn green—the color of jade.

"Kill him!" Junzo whispered to his iron allies.

The beasts turned toward Tadaka and advanced.

The Master of Earth wheeled and ran for the hole in the wall. A demonic statue dropped on him from above, but he cut it in two. The pieces fell, writhing, to the floor and turned into putrescent black slime.

Tadaka darted into the tunnel. He heard Junzo chanting a counterspell behind him, but he did not look back. The cold weight of the fourth black scroll hung from his belt.

Sounds of pursuit followed. Sheathing his katana, Tadaka fished a large rock out of the sleeve of his kimono. The natural tunnel he was running through was narrow, and barely taller than his head. The Master of Earth hoped the stone he held would be enough.

Kissing its smooth, cold surface, he whispered a command to the rock and dropped it. As he ran beyond it, the stone grew huge, filling the passage—blocking pursuit.

Despite himself, a smile cracked Tadaka's lips. He used the last of his strength to chant a seeking spell. He needed to find the way out of this maze. Junzo's forces would dog him, but his Tomb of Jade spell would delay the evil sorcerer. Even a master shugenja like Junzo could not move quickly with his skin turned to jade.

Great gouts of sweat poured down Tadaka's brow and into his eyes. He blinked the moisture back and pressed on. Though his limbs felt like stone, he ran until the tainted breeze of the Shadow-lands caressed his cheeks anew.

flight

The sounds of Tadaka's footsteps echoed across the bleak landscape. The worn soles of his sandals kicked up dust where they hit the cracked earth. The Master of Earth's breath came in short puffs and, occasionally, long gasps.

"Slow down, will you?" Ob said. "I'm having trouble keeping up!"

"Jigoku take you then, mujina," Tadaka said. "You've been running for days," the imp replied, "but we haven't seen any sign of pursuit since you left the Iron Fortress."

"Just because we have not seen them," Tadaka said, "does not mean we're not pursued."

The mujina shrugged his shoulders and flapped his tiny wings harder to keep up. "Okay, I'll give you that," Ob said. "But, it doesn't mean someone
is
chasing us, either."

Tadaka's hand went to his belt, where the stolen Black Scroll still hung. The scroll case felt cold and clammy; Tadaka's sweaty palm

nearly slipped off the top. "They have enough reason to pursue, believe me."

"But we got through the Howling Mire without any trouble," Ob said.

Tadaka laughed ruefully. "Perhaps fighting bog hounds isn't
your
idea of trouble ..." he said. "Oh, I forgot, you vanished— as usual—when the monsters appeared."

"Just showing good sense," Ob replied. "Wouldn't you have vanished if you could have?"

"Sadly, that option is not open to me," Tadaka said. He reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow. Reflexively, he went to adjust his hat but remembered he had lost it in Junzo's castle.

"So," Ob said, "do you keep running until you drop?"

Tadaka nodded. "Yes. Or until I'm out of Junzo's reach."

"And when would that be?" the mujina asked. "You can't run all the way back to Phoenix lands."

"On the other side of the Kaiu Kabe," the Master of Earth replied. "Perhaps."

"So you're just going to run until you reach Crab lands?"

Again, Tadaka nodded. "And I would run better without talking, if you don't mind."

"Maybe we could stop at that ratling village along the way," Ob said. "We could use a break."

Tadaka slowed just a bit. "Perhaps," he said.

The thought of resting had begun to play on his mind. He'd used up most of his reserves fighting Junzo and hadn't had time to recover. The bog hounds had depleted him even further. The land itself turned against him. Chasms yawned as wide as canyons. The cliffs grew steeper and the downward slopes more treacherous. The strange undulations of the land played havoc with his sense of balance and direction.

Whispers plagued his ears, even past the edge of the Howling Mire. The slow wane of the tainted earth hadn't renewed Tadaka's strength either. He was bone tired. Every muscle in his body ached.

Yes, perhaps he could rest at the ratling village—if only for an hour or two. Just enough time to eat, drink, and meditate. He'd run out of fresh water about two days ago and had gone without ever since. The nezumi might have decent enough water to chance a drink. It was a gamble he could take.

"Is it far to the nezumi village?" Tadaka said.

"I was hoping you'd ask," Ob replied. "By my reckoning, it's only three hills that way." He pointed his small red hand at a slight angle from the direction they were traveling.

"Let's go, then," Tadaka said. He turned the way the mujina indicated, adjusting his meager possessions. His obi still held the Black Scroll tucked tight.

The iridescent gray mist of the Shadowlands swirled around them. Stinging plants lashed out with flabby tendrils. Sandals crunched some squealing thing as he ran, but Tadaka didn't stop to see what it was.

He kept his mind focused on the ratling village, on water, on leaving the Shadowlands far behind. First, though, water.

Ob flitted around him, in front and behind. He babbled constantly. Tadaka didn't pay attention. The mujina's words were just part of the din that assaulted the Master of Earth.

Tadaka almost didn't notice when the stone escarpment surrounding the nezumi village sprang up before him. It loomed like a graveyard out of the mist, its natural pillars looking like vast monuments to the dead.

A slight smile cracked Tadaka's dry lips. He took a deep breath and coughed it out in an involuntary spasm. Even a mud hut and a straw bed would seem like paradise.

He slowed as he neared the gap, trying to catch his breath. He looked around, but saw no sign of the mujina. Suddenly, his legs filled with lead. He staggered forward, leaning against the rocks of the entryway. They felt cold, lifeless to his touch. They brought no respite from his pain and exhaustion. The Master of Earth willed his legs forward. One step, then another, and then another. He passed between the stones and peered into the bowllike clearing.

Fog filled the village, limiting his sight to only a few feet. He fell to his knees, happy to have reached safety. Only as he lowered his head to the ground did he wonder—where are the sentries?

Tadaka looked up. An evil breeze caught the mist and pulled the fog back like a curtain. Before him lay the nezumi village— destroyed. Not one hut remained.

He whipped his head from side to side, drinking in the awful spectacle. The huts had been burned to the ground, or knocked down like a child's toys. Desiccated corpses lay everywhere—so dry that even the flies stayed away. Checking the ground, Tadaka saw signs of horsemen everywhere.

Junzo's undead army had come back.

Perhaps it had been the very army Tadaka had seen riding out of the Iron Fortress. The undead legion had taken their revenge against the nezumi village.

Tadaka put his head to the ground and wept bitter tears. He pounded his fist on the earth until the sound drowned out the beating of the blood in his ears. He wailed a mournful cry to the heavens.

Only after long minutes did he remember why he had come. Water. Perhaps there was still some to be found—some that hadn't been ruined by Junzo's horde.

He staggered to his feet and looked across the blasted village. Beyond Ke-o-kecha's hut he had seen a small well. Tadaka willed his legs to walk in that direction.

Nothing remained of the hut itself. Tadaka thought of the gentle way the nezumi had soothed his wounds and tended to his needs. His jaw grew tight at the memory. Beyond the burned patch lay a jumble of stones—once the well.

Tadaka knelt and tore frantically at the rocks, casting them aside vigorously. Soon, he had cleared the top of the small shaft. No rope or bucket remained, so he reached down with his hand. He stuck his arm into the hole all the way to the shoulder, hoping beyond hope to find the liquid he needed.

Something wet tantalized his fingertips. He reached further, straining with all his might to cup the precious fluid in his palm. His body shook with the effort. Water filled the bowl of his hand. Quickly, he brought it up out of the hole and to his lips.

His nose saved him.

A noxious smell filled his nostrils, and Tadaka looked at the handful of water before he drank. It was dark, like mud, and tainted with a glowing green putrescence. Uttering an agonized cry, Tadaka flung the liquid from his hands and wiped his palm on his kimono. He bowed his head and wept.

When he staggered to his feet again, the mist had grown thicker. Now, it was almost a fine rain. Tadaka lifted his lips to the heavens, but the fog wouldn't quench his thirst—only remind him how thirsty he was.

A sound caught his ear—a vague, tinkling sound, like babbling wind chimes. Could it be water? Perhaps the rain was heavier up in the hills. Perhaps it was trickling down the cliff face, near where he'd first entered the nezumi village. Hope rising in his breast, he staggered on weary legs toward the escarpment.

The gray fog swirled around him, embracing his body in clammy arms. The mist worked its way into his lungs, making him cough. His body shuddered with the effort.

Yes. He saw it now. A tiny rivulet of dripping water, splashing on a flat stone.

Licking his cracked lips, he made his way toward it. He pressed his hands to the rocks on each side of the stone to support himself. The flat rock was barely wet. Perhaps, though, it would be enough.