The Blue Mountain (The Forbidden List Book 2) (9 page)

Haung stopped by the soldiers’ mess on the way back home from the meeting. The midday meal had already been served and there was little left, but that did not bother him. He picked up a clay bowl from the stack by the door and dipped it into the large pan of soup. There was always, in a soldiers’ mess, a pan of soup over a fire. It was just the way it was. Soldiers, after a day’s hard training, desired soup. It was warm and filling without being heavy in your stomach. Grabbing a
bing
, a thick unleavened disc of bread, he made his way to an empty table and sat down.

Tearing the bread in half, he dipped it into the soup. As expected, the bread tasted good and the soup tasted of very little. All the flavour had boiled out long ago, but the warm liquid coated his tongue and sparked memories. He chewed the bread, thinking about the changes that had occurred since he and Jiao had arrived.

He still drew the salary of a full captain but had no defined duties. He trained with Shifu and there was the un-spoken understanding that he was being trained for something. Hunting down Jing Ke would be part of it. But now there were complications. The wall was in trouble, or soon to be. The enemy were advancing and consolidating their hold on the lands beyond the wall. The wall had been built to protect the Empire. To stop the raiding parties from the north. Where were those raiders? Haung took another bite of bread. They could be fighting the enemy who had invaded their land or they could be part of it. If they had run from it, he pondered, then they did not run to us for help. Not that it would, necessarily, have been forthcoming. Many generals would happily see the people of the plains destroyed.

Haung raised the soup bowl to his lips and took a drink of the thin broth. The general would not be happy with him despite the assurances of the Emperor. The messenger was always the one most at risk.  And then there was the mysterious noble who had been speaking to Jiao.

The training of a
Jiin-Wei
demanded that he find the threat, isolate and destroy it. Threats were not permitted to exist, but without access to a network of informants or those who lived on the shadier side of the city, the people who knew that knowing everything was the best defence, his possible actions were limited. Haung fiddled with his necklace, tracing its contours with an absent sweep of his thumb. Worse still, whatever action he took could not reflect back on the Emperor or Shifu. It would not be honourable.

Lost in thought, Haung finished off the soup and bread then carried the bowl to the wash basins at the far end of the hall.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set over the walls that surrounded the Holy City, casting long shadows across the open areas of grass or decorative paving. Haung walked along the paths towards home, the soup still warm in his stomach and memories of Yaart in his head. The paths were not crowded, they never were. To live in the Holy City you had to be chosen by one of the five families, or the Emperor himself. To call the Holy City home was to be important. Yet, for all its grandeur it was, at times, a sterile place.

Most everyone who passed by gave a little bow, which he returned. It was a mark of respect and also a hint that no-one knew quite where he and his family stood in the hierarchy within the walls. Your position in the ranks was always a matter of delicate balance. Of course, he thought, being a
Jiin-Wei
amongst rich nobles was bound to cause some consternation. Half of them would suspect he was here to spy on them. The other half would believe he was there to spy on their neighbours. Indeed, on occasion, some folks gave him a knowing smile alongside the bow.

The ones who did not bow knew they ranked above him. Those he recognised, Haung would favour with the respect they deserved. Those he did not know he, without acknowledgment, walked on by. Let them pull him up for his disrespect, or worry that perhaps they had misunderstood his position in the Holy City. Haung could feel their annoyance and worry as he passed by. He smiled at these little victories.

He was still smiling as he turned a corner a few streets from home. Ahead, at the next crossroads, he spied the noble who had been speaking to Jiao in the market. The man was walking with two others. One was certainly a bodyguard as he carried a seven foot
Cha
, a trident with barbed tips, without effort in his right hand. The third man was deep in conversation with the noble. The bodyguard flicked an appraising look towards Haung and dismissed him as a threat. The other men did not break from their conversation or raise their heads to look around. They were too far away for Haung to intercept, though he desperately wanted to find out who the noble was. He looked at the lengthening shadows and made a decision.

In Yaart, tailing a man was not easy. The crowded streets, the markets of shouting hawkers and stall owners, the noise from the homes, all provided distractions and places to lose the person you were following. Conversely, they provided all the cover you could require and with a good team of spotters you could follow someone to any place within the city. As a
Jiin-Wei,
he had access to another set of skills. A simple tag secreted upon the person, or an object they carried, and a skilled
Jiin-Wei
could locate a man anywhere in the city without ever having to go through the stress of following the target.

In the Holy City, with Shifu’s forbiddance on the use of magic, Haung knew he would have to follow the noble the old fashioned way. From a distance, without getting spotted, or drawing the attention of the other inhabitants.

Without changing pace, he walked to the crossroads and looked down the street his quarry had taken. Haung turned the corner and followed. He maintained his pace, picturing the layout of the Holy City. It followed a simple grid pattern of streets and districts with the Emperor’s palace at the centre. On his mental map, he placed himself, the group he was following and tried to work out where they had come from. On a straight path, there were the offices of the procurement division, one of the kitchen areas that served the administrators, and a diplomatic training building. Either side of the path were more offices and, straying even further from the line, residential areas. Including his own, he realised.

Haung stopped. What if the group had come from his home? He found himself caught in a dilemma. If he turned for home he would lose the chance to find out the noble’s identity. But what were the chances that they had come from his home? No one would do anything in the Holy City. It was a sacrosanct area. Also, the slightest blemish on your honour and you would drop down the hierarchy. The only battle fought within this walls, the only crimes committed, were those with words. A politely delivered insult. A secret spilled to the wrong person. A quiet word in the ear of someone important. A rumour begun. Any of those could do permanent damage to person’s position in the Holy City.

He resumed walking, following the noble. Pushing aside his worries, he brought the map back to mind. If the noble and his bodyguard continued on a straight route they would reach the wall before long. Just a street over was one of the gates into the city proper. Turning right at the next junction, Haung picked up the pace and at the following crossroads turned left. Following the group was fine, but being ahead was a better option.

At the gate, he spoke to one of the guards. Using his captain’s rank he had a runner sent to check on his family. That done and with, he predicted, a few moments to spare, he crossed the wide area of cobbled stones that separated the Holy City from the rest of the capital. The setting sun created large areas of shadow between the buildings that bustled up to the very edge of the cobbles. He stepped into the cool darkness of a doorway from where he could watch the gate clearly. The shadowed streets were crowded with people off home for the evening, or heading to work, earning their living in the restaurants, bars, tea houses, and establishments of more dubious luxury.

The noble, his bodyguard, and friend appeared from the gate that Haung had left a few moments before. They stopped a few paces onto the cobbles and spoke to each other. Haung tried to read their lips and could make out very little. It was not a skill he had practiced much as a
Jiin-Wei
. Instead, he focused on their body language. Who was waving their arms or pointing? Which one looked as though they were in charge of the conversation? The man, the noble’s friend, was doing most of the listening, but there was something in the way he stood that suggested this was not normal. The impression Haung formed was of a man used to being in charge yet forced to be subservient. Behind the two men, the bodyguard stood leaning on his trident, directing a measuring gaze at any who came close to his charge.

Haung watched the two men bow to each other and move off in opposite directions. He focused on the other man for a moment, fixing the face into his memory, and slipped from the shadows to follow his target. Here, in the busier streets, it would be much simpler to follow the noble or rather the bodyguard. It was his three pronged weapon that stuck above the heads of everyone else on the street.

The noise of the battle abated and silence descended like a heavy blanket. The combatants backed away from each other. Wounded creatures struggled to their feet and limped back to their own lines. Every head that could, turned upwards to watch it pass over. Zhou felt a chill settle into his bones as the shadow covered him.

It was long. Slow waves meandered down its body as it flew. Four powerful legs, each ending in a large foot with five sharp claws, made swimming motions in the air. The thin membrane of wings, stretched taut, reached from the leg to the body. A tail, near as long as the rest of the beast, flowed behind the rear legs and a serrated crest ran the length of its spine from its neck to the tip of this tail. The snake-like monster was covered in large, over-lapping scales of black and red that shone with a liquid light. The great head of the creature swung from side to side, peering down with large golden eyes at the battle below. Above those eyes, grew five white horns that swept back against its skull. Zhou saw it open its mouth revealing rows of sharp teeth, each tooth the size of a horse. The dragon roared.

The spell was broken and the battle began anew. The horse creatures rushed into the space they had just vacated, sharp hooves kicking out at the
Wu
. Their attacks were frantic. Gone was the desire for self-preservation the creatures had shown before.

Zhou felt a sharp pain on the back of his neck and tossed his head. A horse flew free and crashed into others of its kind. Next to Zhou, Boqin lumbered forward and swept a group of the creatures aside with one sweep of a paw.

The dragon dived into the midst of the fire-birds, its claws piercing their bodies. The grey shadow eagles vanished as the Dragon took command of the sky. The fire-birds dipped, wheeled and fled, out of range of the gigantic beast’s claws, to harass the
Wu
fighting on the ground. As the Dragon approached they would take flight and only return when the Dragon’s attention was focused elsewhere.

*Boqin,* came a cry, Dà Xiàng’s voice, *help. They are all over me.*

Zhou saw Boqin turn and followed his gaze. The shadow-elephants faded from view and the horses surged forward. There, amongst them all, was the elephant of the true spirit being swarmed by horses. Boqin moved to help, but Zhou was faster. Using the power in his rear legs, he leapt over the first rank of the horses, landing amongst those behind, crushing them under his paws before leaping again. In a few bounds he was at Da Xiàng’s side. He removed the horses that were biting and kicking at the elephant’s hide with careful flicks and grabs of his claws.

*Retreat, pull back,* an unknown voice sounded in Zhou’s head, *there are too many.*

Dà Xiàng, trails of red blood flowing down his thick grey hide backed away, towards the trees that were still aflame.  Zhou moved into the breach and Boqin joined him, facing the horses, protecting Dà Xiàng’s retreat. The dragon passed overhead, its great jaws open wide. Fire spewed forth from that maw and into the midst of the attacking horses. Those it touched turned instantly to cinder. Others close by, caught fire and screeched in a mix of pain and fear. They reared, bucked and barged into still more horses. The fire spread.

*Boqin, go,* the unknown voice said, *take the little cat with you. I can hold them for a short time, but not forever. There are too many and more are coming.*

*Zhou, let’s go. Everyone else, pull back to the trees. Do as Dà Long says,* Boqin ordered.

Boqin and Zhou, still facing the regrouping horses, backed away from the rows of burning horses. From the right, a scream. Risking a glance, he saw Hóuzi, the monkey, swamped by horses. The
Wu
was drowning beneath a flood of horse flesh.

*Stay,* Boqin ordered, even as Zhou’s muscles tensed. *We can’t help him. He’ll have to leave the spirit world before he gets hurt too badly.*

The surviving
Wu
had retreated as far as they could and now the burning tree line prevented them from going further.

*What are you doing?* the dragon called as it made another pass along the front line of horse creatures, jets of fire spraying into them, killing twenty or thirty with each breath. More filled the breaches. An image of the ground they had come from formed in their minds. *Travel. Get back to the temple lands.*

*We can’t,* Boqin explained, *our way is blocked by the fire.*

*Boqin, you haven’t changed. Must I still do all the thinking for you?* The Dragon’s voice carried the flavour of disgust. *The little cat carries a Dryad’s staff. Have him use it.*

*No,* Boqin shouted back. *I will not give one of those creatures a foothold on our mountain, let alone in this realm.*

*Don’t be foolish, Boqin. You can choose to die if you want, but what about the rest of the
Wu
. Little Cat, use the staff. Call on the Dryad spirit to command the trees.* The Dragon swept up into the air, spiralled, rolled and dived again, raking the horse creatures with more fire.

* * *

Zhou moved away from Boqin and the other
Wu
who crowded the small area between their enemies and the fire.

*Zhou,* Boqin warned, *don’t.*

*I don’t know what you are scared of, Boqin, but if the Dragon thinks that this can save the
Wu
then I have to try,* Zhou responded. *We can’t escape otherwise. If we go back to our realm the mountain will be without a defence.*

Boqin growled, frustration and anger evident in the rumbling tones but also a note of acceptance and submission.

Zhou looked over his shoulder. Boqin, the bear, outlined against the flames, had turned away. Above them all, the dragon swept back and forth, the only thing holding back the hordes of horse creatures and the birds of fire in the sky. Zhou was sure that without the Dragon's presence they would have been over-run by now.

Closing his eyes, he recalled how his body, his real physical body, was sat on the earth outside the chamber. How he had adjusted the staff to lay across his legs, hands resting lightly upon it. In his mind, he built the picture up slowly. The polished bark, the contours, the knots and nubs, but most of all, the warmth of it in his hand. There was something in the staff. A force that had kept Zhou alive during his battle with the Duke of Yaart, that had saved him from poison and given life to the seeds, turning them into trees in the space of a few heartbeats. Since that battle, the staff had barely twitched in his hands. Its withered appearance had returned to the polish and warmth it had originally shown. Zhou assumed that all its power had been exhausted.

With his mind, he reached for the staff. Nothing happened. His thought constructed hand passed through the image of the staff. He focused and tried again, to the same result.

*I can't get it,* he sent to the Dragon.

*You must. Bring the staff to you. Just as Boqin brought you to the spirit realm the first time,* there was an amused tone in the Dragon's voice, *though I think you could dispense with all the needless ceremony he insists upon.*

Zhou sighed and lifted his spirit from the panther. Beside his human body, the large back cat sat down upon its haunches and waited. He dug his fingers into the sleek fur of the panther. The cat lifted its head, the feline’s bright eyes meeting Zhou’s, and purred.

“Help me,” he asked the cat, as he sat down, cross legged upon the ground. He leant back against the warm body of the seated Panther. Zhou closed his eyes once more and listened to his heartbeat, feeling it fall into rhythm with the cat’s pulse. Trying to ignore the roar of the flames and the cries of the dying. He looked for the staff again, found it and reached for it. This time it was solid in his hand. He pulled it towards him and might as well have been pulling the whole mountain. The staff did not move. Gritting his teeth, Zhou pulled again. It still it did not move.

*I can't bring it here,* Zhou sent towards the Dragon.

*You must,* came the reply. *I cannot hold them back much longer. There are too many and a dragon's fire needs fuel.*

Zhou took a deep breath, sank back into his connection with the panther and the wooden staff he'd left behind. He built up the picture clearer than before, seeing every detail. The fingers of his mind folded around it, the familiar feel and warmth. Zhou pulled it towards him. It refused to move.

And then, a surge of power and awareness flooded through him. He gasped as the staff began to move, tiny shifts at first and then larger movements as he allowed the new power to take up the strain. He pulled again. Something gave way, snapped, released, the snapping string of a Guqin, and the staff was there, in the spirit realm, in his hands.

He opened his eyes and looked up. “Thank you.”

*Let's hope we don't regret it,* Boqin said.

* * *

Zhou looked at the staff and then turned to look at Boqin, “What now?”

*How do I know?* Boqin said. *It’s your staff not mine.*

*Plant it in the ground. Let the spirit within taste the earth. It will do the rest.* The dragon's voice came clearly through the roar of battle. *Quickly.*

Zhou took a pace away from the bear, and his own panther, before following the dragon's instructions and stabbing the dryad's staff into the ground. It went in more easily than he had expected. The lack of resistance caused him to stumble and fall, face down onto the earth. As he climbed back to his feet, he felt a pulse of energy spread from the staff through the soil, under his feet and out across the land. The
Wu
fell silent. The dragon broke off from its attacks and circled above the forest.

*Can you feel it?* the Dragon asked.

*Yes,* Boqin’s voice lacked any sense of joy or wonder.

“Feel what?” Zhou looked around. All the other
Wu
had backed away from each other and were staring at the ground. “What?”

*We have given them a foothold in the realm,* Boqin said.

*It was needed and it is about time,* the Dragon returned.

Zhou looked back and forth between the bear and dragon but no further information was forthcoming. Across the plain the great horde of creatures that had grown silent, started to prance and worry. At first there was nothing, just a moving sea of horse flesh. As he continued to watch, he noticed that, amongst the creatures, pockets of open space were appearing. It was from these that the horses were fighting to escape.

“What's going on?” Zhou asked.

*She is attacking,* Boqin said. *Look at the ground, not the creatures.*

Zhou looked again, this time at the ground near the horses’ hooves. Here and there, a tendril of green would erupt from the earth, tangle a horse's legs and pull it down. More shoots of green would rise from the earth and covered the thrashing body. Within a second, all movement ceased as the bonds constricted and crushed the creature into nothing more than a smear of blood interspersed with jagged bones that stuck up from the earth like a palisade.

“Should we attack?” Zhou asked.

*No, we are still out-numbered. We must retreat.*

“How? The trees are on fire and the smoke is too thick.”

*Spirits forgive me. Talk to her. Ask her to deal with the trees and the fire.*

Zhou took hold of the staff once more and a warmth spread up his arm and through his body. At the back of his mind he felt a tickle, a feather of a touch, and he caught the scent of the woodland in his nose. He closed his eyes, focused his thoughts and sought out the source of the touch. The blue thread was there, easy to see in the darkness of his mind. He looked beyond, into the recesses. There, right at the back, was a flicker of green. A pulse of light, then another. Zhou sped towards the green glow, pushing his consciousness deeper into his mind. The light grew brighter and soon he was floating before it.

Zhou watched it. On each pulse, it grew a little. Small filaments stretched from the light. Those fine strands germinated and began their own growth, sprouting further nodules. On and on it went. The light grew larger and brighter. Zhou touched one of the branches with a cautious finger. It was warm and vibrant, felt safe and welcoming. There was something there, a consciousness, another mind. It was trying to talk to him, but in a language he could not comprehend. Vague impressions of clear sky, dark mud, cool water, fresh air and time. Zhou tried to assimilate the thoughts and pictures, nothing made sense. They flowed over his mind in a constant cascade. He calmed his thoughts and brought to the forefront, an image of trees on fire, of choking smoke on the wind, showing the consciousness in the staff the scenes around him.

There was a stronger pulse of green light and Zhou was thrown clear. He opened his eyes, noting his hand still grasped the staff, and looked around. The horse creatures were still some way distant and seemed hesitant to cross the land between them and the forest. He turned. The fires that had been consuming the trees was dying down. New growth was smothering the flames.

*Quickly, before the creatures gather their courage. Back to the temple grounds.* The command came from the dragon, Dà Lóng, and the assembled
Wu
ran. Their steps increasing in pace as they formed the scene in their mind and ran into it. Only Zhou and Boqin remained.