Tears of the Dead (20 page)

To his left the beast growled again, a cat’s purr magnified a thousand fold.

It knows I’m here.

The expectation of battle heated his blood, reawakening nerves already raw from the venom’s fire. The pain reminded Fu Xi how close he’d come to giving up.

The air thickened, as the heavy, lifeless snowfall suddenly swirled in silent vortices.

Could it be the beast from the cave?
Fu Xi thought that doubtful, the lair had appeared abandoned for centuries.

He looked up in hopes of spotting the creature. The gray momentarily darkened as something ominous swooped overhead, just out of sight, just out of reach.

It’s toying with me.

Fu Xi didn’t like being the mouse, but if it wanted him, he could do little to thwart its attack.

A tremor shuddered underfoot as it landed close by, just beyond the white curtain.

“Mother,” Fu Xi whispered, unable to contain a smile. “I have found your dragon.”

***

Naked, I woke alone in the cavernous throne room. Only a few torches lit the dim chamber, now cold as a tomb. I stood, my feet covered in wine or blood, which I knew not. The chamber had been swept clean, not even an overturned goblet remained. The giant heads stared mutely into the emptiness, granting neither approval nor condemnation.

I caught a whiff of a smoky, sweet odor and caught Amiran scrutinizing me from the shadows. Even in the darkness, I could not mistake his disappointment. He pointed to a white garment draped across a stool.

“Your robe, my Lord. A hot bath awaits in your chamber.”

With that, he turned and departed, leaving me alone with my shame.

The Chronicle of Fu Xi

***

Sword supported by unsteady arms, Fu Xi trundled toward where he suspected the dragon waited.

It’s a bull, I know it!

The snow under his feet thinned, and Fu Xi sprinted headlong into the blizzard. His grin expanded into a maniacal mask. Fu Xi didn’t care that he lacked the strength or armor to defeat even an adolescent female dragon, let alone a fully mature bull. He took the dragon’s presence as a gift.

Let it end this way.

On this day the son of Nuwa would meet this great beast in battle; a blessed avenue to a glorious ending, an ending fitting for a god.

The snow thinned to a meager flurry as the air grew even colder. White transformed to gray, gray to an enormous black form looming above him. As he sprinted toward the beast, Fu Xi let loose a war cry and struck the Red Sword against a nearby boulder, neatly cutting a swath off the granite and purging the blade of ice and hair.

The snow parted and Fu Xi faced a cliff.

Panting in great misty heaves, he touched black rock. A growl bubbled up from behind him. Fu Xi wondered how the beast maneuvered around him so quickly, so quietly. He also realized the dragon had now trapped him against the cliff, cutting off any escape.

He’s an old beast...a crafty beast.

Fu Xi extended his sword and prepared for his final battle.

“Lord of the Mountain, I am Fu Xi, Son of Nuwa!” he shouted and rattled the sword against the cliff. “Show yourself, and let us get this over with.”

As if in response, a fresh growl echoed around him.

The snowfall slowed to only a few drifting flakes. The world fell still. Fu Xi’s eyes darted left and right, waiting for the attack. Perhaps it would descend from above, trying to impale him with claw spikes. Maybe the dragon would charge, wings pulled back like cat’s ears, and snatch him up in iron jaws. Or the dragon may simply deliver a bolt of fire against the cliff, incinerating Fu Xi without honor.

Instead, human laughter, like melodious chimes, rang out from the mist.

***

A hot bath and warm breakfast didn’t cleanse my spirit. My heart felt as if bathed in venom.

A jovial Leviathan found me sitting on my window ledge, staring at the city. As morning waned to afternoon, we strolled through one of the palace’s many gardens. While Leviathan talked of his far off land, my thoughts drifted to the feast and the brands on the slave women, and the savagery I witnessed.

I stopped and interrupted him. “Many of these mortals are slaves, are they not?”

Leviathan crossed his arms and nodded, as if he’d been expecting this question. “The feast, it disturbed you?”

“Yes.”

“The mortals or your behavior?”

“Yes.”

“You will get used to it. Such rituals are for their benefit, not ours.” His grin reminded me of Quexil’s. “It only overwhelmed you because you were unaccustomed to its intensity. The Obsidian Guards hold such feasts to honor us. Quexil says your behavior last night greatly honored them.” His grin only grew wider. “They can’t wait until the next celebration.”

“You should have warned me. My conduct was unworthy of the Son of Nuwa.”

He considered me as if I were a fool. “By what measuring stick do you judge yourself? By mortal man’s? Does a lamb judge a lion? Free yourself from such obscene notions, brother. Gods make their own rules.”

“Were any of the women hurt?” I demanded.

Exasperated, he poked my shoulder where a barely noticeable blemish remained from last night. “Which one bit you?”

“The redhead...I think.”

“Like a cat that purrs before biting the hand that strokes it.” Leviathan chuckled. “Did she die?”

“I remember nothing after she...serviced me. But you know tasting our blood will kill any mortal creature.”

He continued his stroll. “She knew that. Her people hail from an island of cold mists on the edge of the Icelands. They believe it’s possible to attain immortality by drinking a god’s blood. When they can’t get god’s blood, they’re quite content drinking each other’s.”

“Does this superstition condemn her and her people to slavery? Perhaps they are better served with enlightenment.”

“She would rip open your throat and die feasting on your blood before she would succumb to ‘enlightenment.’ She cannot rise above her breeding. No mortal can.”

I thought of Tiejiang and my beloved Nushen.

“What of your Scholars? Amiran is a remarkable fellow.”

“The Scholars are my father’s dogs!” Leviathan snapped, his rage taking me aback. He quickly composed himself. “My father graciously provided Amiran to assist me in exploring the Cin’s coastal areas. His service has been invaluable. Let me express my point a different way.

“All men are slaves to their own weakness, to death. Am I right?”

I searched my mind for one instance where mankind lifted themselves to enlightenment without my intervention, but could not find one example.

“Yes,” I confessed.

“No matter how high they fly, they will always succumb to the weight of their petty desires. We must not teach them, we must lead them. Only in this manner, can they be truly fulfilled.

“A god’s brand is a symbol of life and liberation, our collars, rungs by which they climb from darkness. The Sons of Poseidon call it The God’s Burden. Brother, never forget they are only a step above the animals, ready to tear out our throats for the slightest taste of immortality. On whatever shores the Sons of Poseidon make landfall, we find them as mere brutes. Is it so different with Cin?”

His words fell across the soil of my heart, waiting for the right moment to germinate.

“Are all of them slaves?”

“All mortals are slaves to a god’s will, but warriors and sailors carry no brand and wear no collar. Olmecs are naturally gifted to the natural order of the universe. Of all mortals, they are the most loyal.”

“Slavery is against all Nuwa has taught me. It is forbidden in Cin.”

“Did you not tell me the ways of Nuwa are vanishing? Didn’t you tell me the kings in Cin make war on one another?”

“I did.”

“A strange reward for so many millennia of service, I should think.”

He held out his arm in a great sweeping motion, as if he could behold the entire world with a single glance. “Where the Eleven Princes reign, men do not starve or make war on one another. The Palace of Wu is only a shadow of Poseidon’s greater glory. Tell me, Son of Nuwa, what have you to show in your lands?”

In that sliver of time, I doubted an eternity of service, and the seeds took root.

“Do not be sad. I know everything you and the great Goddess Nuwa did for the land of Cin, you did for love. I only offer another way, no less steeped in love.”

He patted my back as if consoling me. “If the slave girl still lives, I will see she is punished.” Leviathan continued his stroll.

“There is no need to punish her.”

His voice darkened again. “Mortal bites come in many forms, some nibble like sweetest honey, others snap with a viper’s fangs. Do not trust to your immortality for protection. Love them, but never trust them.” He raised his finger. “They will worship you. They will fear you. They will serve you. But mortals will never love you. The God’s Burden is simple: From men, take what you want. For men, give what they need.”

He stopped again and considered me again. “I see doubt.”

“It is not my intent to offend you. It is only that you have shown me things I’ve never considered.”

“Consider this...Serve or rule, a god must choose.”

His mood lightened, and he hugged me around the shoulder. “My long lost brother, you are now one of us. The days and pleasures of this world are endless...” He clenched his fist. “...ours for the taking! Fu Xi, you belong among the Sons of Poseidon.”

My doubts melted away, or perhaps I merely suppressed them. For the first time in my immortal life, I wasn’t alone.

I belonged.

The Chronicle of Fu Xi

***

A moment of crystal lucidity washed over Fu Xi’s famished mind.

I’m going mad.

He stepped away from the cliff, sword outstretched.

“What does the mighty Fu Xi have to fear?” A voice danced beyond fog.

“What do you want?” Fu Xi shouted, stumbling once again into the deep snow.

A shadow darted to his left. Fu Xu ducked and slashed, but slew only a few unfortunate snowflakes.

“Does the God of Names fear death?” the voice spoke from his left.

Fu Xi whirled about, but saw nothing.

A black-clad figure gelled from the fog and passed to his left, hands casually behind his back. High, proud cheekbones framed obsidian eyes. The man’s features reminded Fu Xi of the tall tribes who dwelt east of Nushen.

Fu Xi whirled about, but the stranger vanished. The snow stretched unbroken

“Show yourself!”

“Here I am,” a breathy, frigid voice whispered in his ear.

Fu Xi spun to face the little woman who died in the courtyard of stone. She stood motionless several yards away, clad only in her rusty iron collar. Her bare feet hovered just above the snow.

“Your mother betrayed you,” she said, face slack and pale as the drifts.

Fu Xi turned and fled the way he came, following his own footprints away from the cliff. He glanced back, but the figure had vanished. Fu Xi turned about and came face to face with a Donkey Man.

The grubby creature considered him with the same dark eyes as the woman had. “How many quests did Nuwa send you on, all the while denying you the pleasures your flesh so desired?” he hissed.

Fu Xi fled in the other direction, terror routing his pride. He lunged into the gray, slogging through the snow, leaving a jagged, white trail in his wake.

Laughter followed him.

Thick pines materialized ahead. Without realizing, Fu Xi had plunged headlong into a forest, but the arboreal sentinels offered no sanctuary.

A child’s voice drifted among the trees, “She dragged one mortal husband after another into her lair, afraid of being alone, feeding her carnal desires one victim at a time.”

Fu Xi glanced right and saw Lian. Nuwa’s final earthly shell appeared just as he remembered her on that final Offering Ceremony, her white silk acolyte gown melting into the snow.

“How many did you watch her slaughter, Fu Xi? She sent you to save them, yet she used their bodies as playthings.”

“Lies!” Tears of rage streaming down his face, Fu Xi lunged toward the child but fell headfirst into a snowdrift.

“She failed, and so did you.”

Fu Xi looked up and came face to face with Quexil. The Olmec’s red skin and jagged war paint clashed violently against the snow.

“I’ve watched you for quite some time, as you scurried back and forth from Tortoise Mountain on her little errands. You’ve crossed Cin again and again, dragging the Tall Men from caves, teaching them fire and how to sprinkle a few seeds in the mud. Was it all worth it?”

Like a daggertooth, Quexil circled in a wide arc, brandishing a steel sword and poison words, each syllable slashing open a new wound. Doubt sawed its way into his spirit.

“I wonder how you felt when you spied our ship that morning, or what thoughts raced through your mind as you beheld Wu for the first time. I think you felt inadequate when you learned how grand the world truly was...and how small a part you played.”