Wrath of the Blue Lady (3 page)

“You had this book and you let it slip away?”

“Lady—” Droust thought quickly. He didn’t want to point out that her decision to sink the ship, and the crew’s intention of keelhauling him, had removed him from those books. “Perhaps those books are still aboard Grayling.”

The Blue Lady waved her hand and the monster unwrapped its tentacle from Droust. The scribe fell to the deck and gasped for his breath as fish swam impossibly around him.

“Find your ship, manling. And find those books.”

“But you have to know that the sea may have harmed the books.” Droust peered up at her. “If they are ruined, I can’t read them.”

“I allowed no harm to come to any books.”

ŚŠ•Śo- ŚŠŚŚŠŚ ŚŠŚ

Only a short time later, they stood on Grayling’s deck, the ship lay broken in pieces in a canyon. All hope of finding the books by Liou Chang that Droust had brought with him instantly disappeared. A thorough search of the cabin only frustrated the Blue Lady and alarmed Droust.

“They were lost, lady.” Droust stood before the Blue Lady and prayed for a quick death.

“Then you will find them.” The Blue Lady’s face held threatening anger like an unleashed storm.

Unable to stop himself, Droust gazed at the wide open sea in dismay. “Lady, those books could be anywhere.”

“You will find them. There is not another reason I would suffer you to live. Do you understand?”

“Yes, lady.”

“Then get busy.” Without another word, the Blue Lady launched herself into the sea and swam away.

Feeling an inch from death, Droust watched her go, then he looked at the immense forest and tried not to think that the task she’d set before him was impossible. Then he started his search for books, beginning with the immediate area around him. The books couldn’t have fallen far,

Unless they were caught in a current or still afloat with the wreckage above. Or any of a dozen other reasons Droust could think of.

Captain Porgad’s body had landed on the deck of this ship at the foot of the mizzen. Small scavengers were already at work on his body, feasting on his eyes and crawling through the gash at his throat. Droust couldn’t help feeling that could be him at any moment.

Pirate Isle Sea of Fallen Stars Year of the Ageless One (1479 DR)

I told you they were Nine Golden Swords warriors.” Kwan Shang-Li gazed at the group of rough looking men standing in the gloom gathering in the alley behind Ottard’s Alehouse. The night truly hadn’t gotten off to a good start and it looked like things were going to get worse.

“Feh,” his father grunted. “Those thugs could be anyone’s.”

The Nine Golden Swords was a criminal organization that operated out of Westgate. They robbed, raided, and sold protection to businesses. According to his father, they were far too coarse to have any interest in Shang-Li and his father’s plans, and were nothing to worry about.

However, there was no mistaking the identity of the warriors. To anyone that would know, the

tattoos on the arms and necks branded them as Nine Golden Swords warriors. Shang-Li discreetly pointed these out.

“Evidently they like the alley as a staging point for burglary as much as we do.” Shang-Li glanced up the tall, crooked tower not far from the alley.

“If this book wasn’t as important as it is, I’d say leave them to it. Let them deal with the wizard. He will kill them all.”

“Do you think Kouldar’s defenses are that good?” A slight trickle of fear ran through Shang-Li, but he felt excitement as well. His father had always considered that mixed feeling as a failing. Shang-Li lived for the rush of adventure. That was one of the first things that had led him out of the Standing Tree Monastery and out into the world.

“He’s supposed to be one of the best wizards on the isle.” His father shrugged. “I do not believe the Nine Golden Swords would have anyone skilled enough to defeat his defenses.”

“You know I’ve got to break into that tower tonight.”

His father clapped him on the arm. “Perhaps you will be lucky.”

“Thanks.”

“We’ll find out later.” His father nodded toward the Nine Golden Swords warriors. “In the meantime, it would be better if they didn’t get brave enough to attempt to break into Kouldar’s tower tonight. Maybe if we reasoned with them.”

Shang-Li stared at his father. “We’re going to reason with the Nine Golden Swords? For all we know, they’re after the books too.”

Kwan Yung was a slightly built man with gray hair and a forked beard. He stood only as tall as Shang-Li’s shoulder. Kwan Yung was full-blood Shou but he had married an elven ranger in spite of his family’s traditions, and had only one son: Shang-Li.

At twenty-four, Shang-Li was barely considered an adult by his father. His father had contributed his dark, buttery complexion and the black hair Shang-Li wore close-cropped. His pointed ears and turquoise eyes came

from his mother, and from somewhere between the two he had ended up with a lean, compact build. He wore leather sandals and a black server’s uniform that fit him loosely. The small leather pack over his shoulder showed years of hard use and had accompanied him through his travels for the last twelve years.

His father grunted in disappointment. “Perhaps reasoning with them is too much to ask.”

“Knowing the Nine Golden Swords are here is going to alter our plan.”

His father shot him a look. “Our plans altered the moment you broke the last jar of hot sweet-and-sour sauce and angered the most dangerous pirate on these isles.”

“It was an accident.” Shang-Li hated the way the lie sounded so false in his ears.

“An accident that got you fired and earned you a death threat from Captain Trolag. As I recall, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

It wasn’t, and Shang-Li was embarrassed he’d jeopardized the plan. Not only that, now that his father knew about the incident, Shang-Li knew his father would never let him live it down. Once they returned home, Shang-Li trusted everyone at the monastery would hear the tale. Years of woe stretched out before him.

And then there was Captain Trolag’s death threat. Captain Trolag had brandished his displeasure and menace around like weapons. Few on the Pirate Isle would stand against him, and Captain Trolag stayed away from those men. Instead, he enjoyed stringing up men too helpless to defend themselves. The corpses of three that had angered the captain that morning danced from gibbets at the harbor entrance. Shang-Li had seen the dead men from the kitchen window where he worked at the Blinding Onion.

Had worked. Shang-Li’s dismissal from the tavern had come suddenly and without any chance of misinterpretation. He’d been surprised at how much getting fired from the

tavern had stung. The job had merely been a cover, but he had worked hard to do his job well for as long as he had need of it.

Except for the mishandling of the spice tureen. That was truly unfortu—

“I’m not convinced that the sweet-and-sour sauce was mishandled by accident,” his father said, interrupting Shang-Li’s thoughts.

“Maybe we could deal with our friends here now, and talk later?”

“If you must.”

Shang-Li walked out of the shadows and approached the Nine Golden Swords warriors standing in the alley. He kept his hands open, showing no weapons. His server’s uniform from the Blinding Onion offered no clue as to who he was.

“What do you want?” A large man stepped forward and put his hand on the hilt of his sword.

Shang-Li stood his ground and expanded his senses, reaching for Moonwhisper, the horned owl that he’d taken as his animal companion. After three years, the effort of connecting with the predatory bird was as natural as breathing.

Moonwhisper sat in the shadows of a window high on one of the nearby buildings. He had already started to fidget restlessly when the men closed on Shang-Li. The owl watched the seamen closely, and through the bond that they shared, Shang-Li got a better look at the scene.

Through the owl’s eyes, everything was rendered in black and white. But Moonwhisper’s vision was sharp. Shang-Li felt the owl shift his weight and unfurl his wings as he leaped from the window. He took to the air soundlessly, earning the name Shang-Li had given him when he’d been little more than a struggling hatchling.

“Can you spare a few copper pieces?” Shang-Li waved at his father. “My father is sick and I need to get him to a healer.”

Kwan Yung coughed theatrically and walked over as well.

“Go away.” The big man waved a threatening hand. Like all the others, he was Shou, golden-skinned and black-haired, covered in tattoos. “I’ll kill your diseased old father before he comes close enough to get me sick.”

His father stopped. “Have things changed so much in the world, Shang-Li, that an old man in the streets can’t rely on the kindness of strangers?”

Shang-Li seized the big man’s outstretched hand, pinched the nerves deep in his palm, then round kicked him in the face. “The kindness of strangers is something you find in a book. Did you really expect to find it here in the Pirate Isles?”

Another warrior lunged with a spear, intending to skewer Kwan Yung. The old man sidestepped the spear thrust, then swayed effortlessly forward and chopped the man in the throat with the edge of his hand. The warrior dropped to his knees, abandoning his weapon and holding his bruised throat as he tried to force his breath in and out. “The kindness of strangers must be a lot like good service in taverns,” his father said. “It can’t be found anymore.”

Shang-Li didn’t reply. His father had always been good at ferreting out his lies.

His father persisted. “Did you spill the tureen on purpose?” His father caught a man’s sword lunge, redirected it, and then slammed his elbow into the man’s temple. The Nine Golden Swords warrior dropped like a rock.

You just can’t leave it alone, can you? Shang-Li thought. His father always expected perfection from him. “It was the last night at the Blinding Onion. The captain had become insufferable since he got into port a tenday ago. I hated waiting on him.”

Shang-Li held his arms down at his side, twisted his wrists, and shook his hands to free the fighting sticks holstered there. Short and iron-capped, the wooden fighting sticks barely reached from Shang-Li’s wrist to his elbow.

With one whispered command, however, they nearly doubled in length in the blink of an eye.

His opponent thrust his sword forward, intending to pierce Shang-Li’s throat. The young Shou batted the sword to the left with the fighting stick in his right hand, then followed the motion and turned to his left. He completed the turn and slammed the stick in his left hand into the man’s temple.

The big man’s eyes rolled up into his head and he sank to his knees. Shang-Li snap-kicked the unconscious man in the face and knocked him back into his fellows as they scrambled for their swords and knives.

“That’s no excuse.” Kwan Yung scooped a loose cobblestone from the alley floor with his foot and hurled it into the face of another attacker. The rock hit solidly and the man screamed in pain as he fell backward.

“I wasn’t trying to excuse myself.” With a quick spin, Shang-Li confronted the three men closing in on him from the rear. He swung the sticks quickly, blocking his opponents’ blades with harsh thwacks that filled the narrow street. A quick step to the right took him to the man on the outside of that group. The pirate swung his long sword at Shang-Li’s midsection but stepped in front of his fellows to do so.

Shang-Li caught the sword between the sticks and turned the weapon aside. Metal slid along the reinforced wood but stopped just short of the Shou’s hands. He shifted the trapped blade quickly and put the tip against the ground. A sudden stomp snapped the blade like kindling, and Shang-Li jumped high into the air and swung a roundhouse kick into the man’s jaw. His head spun to the side at the impact and bone broke. He slumped into an unconscious heap.

“Your impudence has jeopardized our mission here.” His father picked up a fallen spear, expertly spun it to block the blades of two attackers, then knocked one of them out with the haft. He ran at the second, used the spear to leap

above the man’s sword strike, and kicked him in the head. His father landed gracefully and spun the spear again.

“The mission isn’t jeopardized.” Shang-Li heard the survivors of their attack closing ranks, then charging at him. Driving his feet hard, Shang-Li ran up the wall of the nearest building. Just as gravity claimed him and stopped his upward path, Shang-Li pushed himself backward and flipped high in the air. He landed on one of the men, one foot on his opponent’s shoulder and one foot on the man’s head. Burdened by the unexpected weight, the pirate sank to the ground.

Moonwhisper sped out of the darkness and raked his heavy claws across the forehead of one of the men. The heavy sweep of the owl’s wings cracked in the air. The razor-sharp claws parted flesh easily. Blood ran down into the wounded man’s face and he retreated while clawing desperately at his head to find out how bad the damage was.

His father snorted disdainfully and swept the retreating man’s feet from beneath him, then rapped him on the skull.

Shang-Li cringed a little. There was nothing as irritating as that snort.

“You had to cause a scene, Shang-Li. You couldn’t leave well enough alone. You had to let that man know that he couldn’t control everything.”

“I think he believed it was an accident.” One of the Nine Golden Swords warriors halted a dozen paces away and unlimbered a crossbow. Shang-Li reached inside his belt and took out two throwing stars. He flipped them into the air smoothly. The disks whirred across the intervening distance and buried themselves in the man’s elbows. The armor he wore might have stopped them. The warrior howled in pain and the crossbow dropped from his hands. He turned and fled. Shang-Li allowed him to escape.

“Then why did Trolag offer an immediate bounty on your head even after you were fired? Why did you flee the Blinding Onion like a monkey with his tail on fire? And

how could you possibly think we’d last any longer on our quest with you a wanted man?”

Shang-Li sighed. “The Pirate Isles are filled with wanted men.”