The Blue Mountain (The Forbidden List Book 2) (12 page)

“Xióngmāo,” Zhou opened his eyes. His back rested against the building and the staff still lay across his lap.

“Zhou, you're back,” she said. “I've got Biānfú lying down in one of the empty rooms. He will be fine with a few days rest on the mountain. What happened?”

“We were attacked. It didn't go well. We had to retreat. Something is attacking the heart of the mountain. Boqin is gathering the others.” As he spoke, the other
Wu
began to stir. “He said to be prepared.”

“What for?”

“I asked him that too,” Zhou smiled.

“And...”

“He said that Dà Lóng will have a plan,”

“He's here?” Xióngmāo gasped, eyes widening in shock.

“I think so.” And Zhou realised that he did not know. “It was incredible, so much power in one creature. I suppose, that doesn't mean he is necessarily here, physically. Does it?”

“The Dragon travels swiftly in the spirit realm and ours. Do you recall how you got here?”

“The portals,” Zhou said.

“Yes.”

Boqin stood up. The large man moving with more grace than his size would suggest. “He will be here in a moment. I felt the portal activate.”

“You felt it?” Zhou turned to his teacher.

“Yes,” and Boqin volunteered no more. “Zhou, fetch some water. Dà Lóng will need a drink and so do we.”

“Yes, Boqin.” He made to head into the room behind.

“Not from the bowl in there. You wouldn't really want to drink that. It has been there for a long, long time.”

Zhou returned with the water just as Dà Lóng was approaching. He placed the bronze bound, wooden bucket down in the midst of the
Wu
and handed Boqin the large ladle with which to drink.

“Boqin,” the Emperor said, “let’s get the others away from the mountain. I have opened a gate to one of my castles. It is far away and lightly garrisoned. No one will be harmed or imprisoned. I’ve sent word through to expect royal guests. They will be well treated.”

“And what about the mountain?” Water dripped through Boqin’s beard as he spoke.

“I have an idea. I thought perhaps that you might have come to the same conclusion?” Dà Lóng turned just in time to take the slap across his cheek. He stepped back, away from his attacker and rubbed at the reddened flesh. “Xióngmāo, how have you been keeping?”

“How have I been keeping? Is that all you have to say after all these years. The occasional meeting in the spirit and nothing else. How do you think I have been?” She took a step forward and, without thinking it through, Zhou grabbed her arm to prevent her striking the Emperor again.

Dà Lóng gave Boqin a pleading look. “You didn’t warn me, old friend?”

“Surprises are good for the soul,” Boqin said, “and you’re an intelligent man. You must have known she would be here.”

Dà Lóng gave Boqin a wry smile. “Your invitation did not give me time for much thought.”

“That is a shame.” Boqin turned away from the Emperor and spoke to Zhou. “Let’s go and ensure the others are ready to travel. I don't think we have much time. Dà Lóng, five minutes?”

“Long enough, Boqin.”

Boqin put his arm around Zhou's shoulders and guided him away from Dà Lóng and Xióngmāo. Zhou looked back over his shoulder at the two
Wu
who stood staring at each other. He saw the Emperor reach out a tentative hand. An action which Xióngmāo echoed.

“Give them some privacy,” Boqin said.

“Why?” Zhou asked as he lost sight of them.

“Because that is what we are going to do,” Boqin replied, “and we are not going to ask any more questions.”

Boqin and Zhou spent a few minutes making sure the tired
Wu
had water to drink and were aware that they would soon be moving on. Dà Lóng and Xióngmāo returned to the group before, Zhou judged, Boqin's imposed time limit was up. Zhou peered closely at the dark haired woman's face and thought that he detected a hint of masked anger. The Emperor's expression was calm and serene.

“It is time to go Old Bear,” Dà Lóng said. “Gather everyone and we'll head to the Dragon Gate.”

“Can you save the mountain's heart?” Zhou asked as the troop walked along an unevenly paved pathway towards the building that contained the gateway.

“I am constantly watching the heart,” Dà Lóng said in response. “It is defending itself, but the attacks are gaining strength. I need to get everyone to safety before I attempt anything. And the quicker we move, the more time I will have.”

Zhou took the hint and closed his mouth. Beneath his feet the perfectly square paving slabs rose and fell. He pondered the road as he walked. Every few steps, the road lifted up smoothly and then settled back to lower level. The slabs, each the same size and shape, fitted together in a haphazard manner. They butted into each other, in some cases were overlaid parts of the one before or after, others were twisted a little to the left or right. Zhou looked back at the others and almost tripped over one of the upraised slabs. He brought his eyes back to his path.

“That's one of reasons it was built like this,” Boqin said. “Keep your eyes on the path ahead. Looking back can only show you where you have been. Too much dwelling on the past will trip you up in the future.”

“It's like a river, or the sea. I mean, the slabs have ripples in them. I don't think that this road was badly made, I think it’s on purpose,” Zhou said as they neared the steps to the temple building that housed the Dragon Gate.

“Well done, though you have walked this road a hundred times or more this past year. I had hoped you would have realised this before. We call it the seven rivers road. Six for the major rivers of the land, and one for time that flows only one way,” Boqin said. “I suppose, at least, you have learned one thing in your time here.”

The small group mounted the steps to the temple and the large wooden doors swung open. Inside, the room was spacious and empty save for the Dragon Gate at the very end. The stone floor, made from the same slabs as the road outside, was smooth and the sun’s rays streamed in through high windows, creating pools of light upon it. In those bright columns, motes of dust floated, suspended in the air. The
Wu
moved through them and eddies formed, twirled and swirled, dancing currents picked out by the small flecks of dust.

“Little cat,” the Emperor addressed Zhou, “make sure everyone is in and ready.”

Zhou nodded and moved to the back of the pack, carrying out a quick head count.

“As soon as the gate is open, I want everyone to hurry through,” the Emperor addressed the gathered and weary
Wu
. “I know that some of you have used the gates before, but just in case, and for those who haven’t, it is disorientating. It’s probably better to keep your eyes closed as you go through. Think of it as travelling to the spirit realm, but without the blue thread to cling on to. You’ll feel dizzy, and maybe a little sick, but it is perfectly safe. Run through and don’t look back.”

Zhou sought out Xióngmāo and spied her standing next to Boqin. They appeared to be engaged in a heated, whispered argument. He saw her raise a finger and jab it into his chest and then wave at the empty temple around them. Boqin towered over her, the top of her head barely reaching to his chest, but it was clear he was coming off the worst in the argument. The great bear’s face had a strange resigned look to it, almost sad, and Zhou wondered what they were discussing. He began pushing his way through the small crowd to get closer and find out. They both turned as he squeezed between the last two
Wu
standing in his way.

“Is there a problem?” he asked.

“No,” Boqin said in his deep voice. “No problem.”

Xióngmāo’s face said something entirely different. Zhou looked between them and felt for the first time in almost a year that he did not belong here. That he was intruding in a world whose rules and relationships were formalised a thousand years ago.

The small woman rested a comforting hand upon his arm. “Boqin and I are resurrecting an old argument, and adding some new twists to it. It is not important right now.”

Zhou attempted to give her smile of understanding, but knew it was weak and half-hearted. He turned to watch the Emperor bring the Dragon Gate to life. The lithe man stood between the empty pillars of the gates, his back to Zhou. He raised his arms to either side, not quite touching the pillars but coming close. The Emperor turned his hands over so that his palms faced the ceiling, a priest’s posture of supplication. It seemed an age that he stood there, and a quietness descended upon the room. They all waited and watched. The space between the gates flickered, a sharp riot of colour, sunbursts, rainbows and firecrackers. Zhou flinched, blinked and looked away, shielding his eyes.

The ground shook for a short moment. Dust rained down from the ceiling. The heavier pieces of plaster bounced off of Zhou's head and he raised his arms to ward them off. From all around came the sounds of the others doing similar, gasps of pain, the shuffling of feet and a flurry of cursing. Fine dust followed, coughing and choking, drying his throat and leaving the taste of age upon his tongue.

The Emperor staggered out of the cloud of dust. “We have a problem.”

“Another earthquake?” Boqin said.

“That too, but more importantly, I can't open the gate. The battle at the heart is disrupting the flow of energy. Either that or the red magic is interfering.” The Emperor had a puzzled and absent look upon his face.

“Jian-min, stop thinking about it.” Boqin squared up Dà Lóng. “I know what you’re doing and this isn't the time for you to get distracted by a puzzle. We have to get the others off the mountain.”

“You're right.” The Emperor's face lost its absent look and he returned to the present. “The bowl? It is short range and attuned to its mirror. The link is simple and direct. Nothing should be able to interfere. We need to get back to the first room.”

“The first room?” Zhou asked.             

“The one we just came from,” Boqin started to round up and explain it to the others.

“We call it the first room as it was the room used by the first of the
Wu
. To be honest, it began as a cave and they just improved it over the centuries. The bowl was the original attempt to create what we now call the Dragon Gates. There are only two of them. One here, you've seen it, and one on another mountain not far away,” Xióngmāo took over the explanation as she guided him back out of the temple.

On the steps, the mountain shook again, throwing the
Wu
to their knees, and in two cases, all the way down the stairs. It went on and on this time, the impossibly loud grinding of the ground contorting in ways that would normally take an uncountable number of slow years. Zhou crawled to the pillars that lined the side of the stairs and supported the stone bannister, pulling Xióngmāo with him. He wrapped his arms around one of the pillars and held on tight. She wrapped her arms round him. In this strange embrace, they rode out the earthquake. Beneath them the ground swelled, and ancient temple walls began to crack and peel away from each other. With a loud crash the walls tumbled down, spewing stones across the ground like mah-jong tiles onto a gaming table. Slate roofs, their support stolen, collapsed, gravity accomplishing the task that slow weathering could not.

The Emperor was the first on his feet when the shaking ended. “Move, we don't have time anymore. The attacks have increased and the heart is struggling,” he said.

Boqin and Dà Lóng moved amongst the
Wu
, picking them up and sending them running towards the first room. Zhou ran with Xióngmāo, hand in hand, towards the same destination. Down the seven rivers road, the uneven surface now littered with shattered slate and discarded building stones. Large holes had appeared in the paved surface. Zhou was forced to take detours and clamber over fallen rocks. Xióngmāo kept pace with him. Boqin brought up the rear, shouting and cajoling them all to keep moving.

The ground trembled again. Zhou pushed Xióngmāo through the door to the first room and towards the bowl at the end.

“Climb in,” Boqin shouted over the noises of the rock, “as many of you as there is room.”

Zhou helped Xióngmāo over the rim and lowered her into the water inside whilst two others held the exhausted looking Bianfu between them. The film of dust on the surface parted as her feet entered the water.

“You too,” Boqin told Zhou.

“There isn't room,” Zhou pointed out the lack of space in the now crowded bowl. “Send them first, I'll go next.”

“Zhou,” Boqin began but was cut off by Dà Lóng.

“We haven't got time to argue,” the Emperor grumbled. “Do you remember how to do this?”

“Of course I do,” Boqin snapped back. “Zhou move out of the way and don't touch anything.”

Boqin and the Emperor moved to either side of the bowl and placed their hands upon it. They began to circle, their hands remaining in contact with the rim. Slow at first and then, with gliding steps, faster and faster. A clear tone emanated from the bowl, deep and resonant. The water began to glow and the occupants vanished. One moment Xióngmāo had been smiling at him, the next she was gone.