Before anyone else could react, Kaz scooped up the core. It felt hot in his too-cold hand, and for a moment, the urge to eat it was nearly overwhelming. At the thought, however, a wave of bile rose up, pushing against the roof of his mouth and forestalling any attempt to give in to the desire.
Kaz tossed the core, and dozens of pairs of eyes watched it as it soared through the air, landing neatly in Lianhua’s cupped palm. She blinked down at it, bemused, until Kaz said roughly, “Put it in your pouch. Please.”
Looking up, then around at all the hungry eyes locked on the gleaming red sphere, Lianhua quickly tucked the core into her pouch before returning both hands to Sika’s shoulders. Kaz walked slowly back to her, his legs shaking beneath him, and the last bits of Vega dripping from his fingers as they melted. He had used every bit of black and white ki he had, and he felt intensely off balance even as his core struggled to replace what he had lost.
Swallowing hard against the taste of vomit and the smell of blood that was beginning to fill the cavern, Kaz looked at Idla. “I know you hate the Magmablades,” he told her, “but spare these, at least as many as you can, and I’ll give you Vega’s core.” He had seen the avaricious look she, along with every other adult female, had given it, but to his astonishment, she shook her head.
“That core won’t do me any good.” She looked frustrated but resigned as she spoke. “The best thing we can do is destroy it, along with the rest of the Magmablades, but…” She stared at Kaz for so long that everyone else fell silent, and the only sound was the soft whimpering of puppies and howls drifting from the tunnel behind Sika.
Idla nodded, just once, and motioned to her people. “Do it. Spare everyone you can, but not at the risk of your own lives. Let no one escape to warn the rest of the Magmablades if you can help it.”
There had to be at least fifty yellow-furred kobolds standing on the stairs and crowded into the small cavern, and they all nodded at once. The warriors threw their heads back and howled, holding their weapons high as they charged down the tunnel, followed by shielded females, each with a ball of power already forming near an outthrust hand.
Idla looked back at Kaz, then, slowly, bowed her head, chief to chief. Kaz’s eyes widened as she said, “There have been no Woodblades in the Deep for far too long. Welcome home.”
Kaz took an involuntary step back, his hand going to his throat, where it found Li’s soft, scaled tail resting comfortably. “I’m no Woodblade,” he told her. “I’m just-”
She snorted, her eyes flickering to the expanding crimson pool of what used to be Vega. “You have their blue fur, and their strength. That’s all you need, at least for now. The Deep is broken without all five tribes. We desperately need a Woodblade, and soon.”
Kaz shook his head. “I’m a male. And a puppy.”
Another snort. “At least a quarter of the Woodblade chiefs have been male,” she told him, as if it was common knowledge, “and you’re no more a puppy than Berin is.”
A howl rang down the tunnel, long and exultant, and everyone turned to peer down into the darkness. Idla’s lip lifted, and she looked back at Kaz. “Let me give you your first gift, Woodblade. May it bring peace between our tribes.”
She turned as if to leave, but Kaz hesitated, making her pause as well. Kaz looked at the puppies, most of whom were cowering, terrified, while a few others held their ground between the invaders and their friends, tiny teeth bared, and hackles raised.
“We can’t leave these puppies here,” Kaz murmured, taking in the increasingly gory scene.
Idla frowned. It was clear that the idea didn’t bother her as much as it did Kaz, but she did seem uncomfortable as one of the pups backed away from the spreading pool.
“We can put them in a hut in the main den,” Kaz suggested, but she still looked unconvinced. It only took a moment of thought to realize why: if things were going badly, the den might be no better than here, and it was possible there weren’t any huts left fit to serve the purpose.
Just then, approaching claws announced another kobold’s presence, and a soft yip of greeting caused Idla’s guards to relax. A young female appeared, her yellow fur as clean as if she hadn’t just come from a battle. “It’s done,” she said, bowing to Idla. “The humans are…” Her voice trailed off, and her eyes were wide with awe.
“The black-clothed male has a dust that put most of the Magmablades to sleep. They never even knew he was there before they began to fall.” She waved a hand, mimicking someone collapsing, then repeated the gesture several times. “We barely had to do anything, and the other human is complaining that he hardly got to hit anybody.”
Kaz felt his shoulders slump in relief, and beside him, Sika, still in Lianhua’s firm grasp, let out a low whine. Straightening again, Kaz looked at Idla. “The puppies can go in a hut,” he said firmly. “They’ll be safe there, and if they see their families are unharmed, they won’t be so frightened.”
Idla nodded, looking at one of her guards. “Bring them,” she told him, but Sika spoke up.
“I’ll get them,” the old female said, and for the first time she sounded her age. “They know me, and they’ll listen.” Turning to the terrified puppies, she gave a sharp, commanding bark, and all of them looked at her as if they’d only just realized she was there.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The fragile little male, Chix, was actually the first to respond, taking a few steps toward Sika. Gram tried to hold him back, but seemed wary of hurting his friend, and in the end chose to accompany him instead. The other puppies followed, a few at first, and then all the rest, in a group, keeping wary eyes on the strange adults surrounding them. The bigger pups helped the little ones, who only wanted to curl up on the ground and whimper, and soon the puppies were crowded around Sika’s paws.
Cautiously, Lianhua released the old female, but not before Kaz removed the pouch from her belt. There wasn’t much zhitong left in it, but he wasn’t taking any chances. If Sika would still talk to him, he had a great many questions yet to ask her, and he didn’t want her joining the ancestors before he got a chance.
Sika started to pick Chix up, but she was shaking so badly that she nearly dropped him, light as he was. Kaz caught the little puppy, who first resisted, and then clung to Kaz fiercely. Kaz was shocked to feel a tiny tug on his ki from where the pup was tucked up against his chest, as if Chix was trying to take some of his ki, but didn’t quite know how.
Kaz knew it was probably foolish, especially since he was still trying to recover from his recent exertion, but the puppy was so weak and pitiful that he couldn’t help it. He fed a tiny thread of ki into Chix’s cycle, cutting it off before it reached the puppy’s core. He didn’t want to accidentally bind the young kobold to him, just see if he could help.
Instantly, the ki filled Chix’s empty channels, and the puppy sighed in relief as his core drank it in. The small gray ball in his belly brightened slightly, turning a little more blue. Kaz frowned, looking down at Chix as the puppy leaned against him, fists balled in Kaz’s fur. Chix’s core was barely spinning, even with the infusion of ki, and the miniscule trickle it produced was just enough to keep the little body going. Kaz could see that some of the smaller channels that should be feeding his organs, especially his heart, seemed to be atrophying. If this continued, there was no way the puppy would live much longer.
Kaz felt something, and looked down to see Gram gnawing fiercely at his calf. The little teeth weren’t doing anything more than pulling out some of Kaz’s new-grown fur, but Kaz reached down and picked up the puppy by the scruff of his neck, holding him out as the little arms and legs flailed.
“Put Chix down!” Gram squeaked, barely able to speak while he dangled in Kaz’s grasp.
Kaz shifted Chix in his other arm, turning the pup’s head so Gram could see that his friend was merely asleep, relaxed and warm in his spot burrowed against Kaz’s chest. Kaz gave the pup another small burst of ki, and the narrow ribs swelled as Chix drew in a deep breath, a faint trace of pink color coming to his lips and the edges of his ears.
“He’s all right,” Kaz said softly. “I think I know why he’s sick, and I’d like to help him, if I can.”
Gram hung loosely, muzzle wide as he stared at his friend. Big blue eyes turned to Kaz. “Are you a healer?”
Leaning down, Kaz set the puppy’s paws back on the ground, then crouched in front of him. “I know a little healing,” Kaz admitted. “My… mother taught me.”
A few more of the puppies crowded in, curious eyes staring at the sleeping Chix, cradled in Kaz’s arms. Li mantled slightly, hissing at them, but there was no fear in their eyes as they stared back.
“Then you should help Chix feel better,” Gram said firmly. “I like playing with him. He always has the best ideas for new games.”
Kaz chuckled. “I’ll do my best.” He patted Gram on the head and stood back up, to find all of the others staring at him. Lianhua was smiling warmly, but the kobolds’ faces held such a complex mixture of expressions that Kaz couldn’t even identify all of them. Idla’s was one of the most difficult. Some part of it was definitely calculation, but there was also something resembling hope that Kaz found strangely disturbing.
Sika, on the other hand, was simple. She bowed deeply, nearly toppling over when she tried to stand back up. Kaz set his free hand under her arm, supporting her, and she stared up with a look that was almost reverent. Then the expression vanished, and she looked down the dark tunnel.
“Pups, follow,” she said, giving the soft yip of an adult calling for her pup. All of the little ones fell into line, and she, Kaz, and Lianhua led the way down the short tunnel.
As soon as they started moving, Li twisted her head around to stare at Kaz accusingly. She sent him an image of herself, glorious and gleaming, flying through the air with long strokes of her graceful wings.
Kaz smiled. “Yes, you’re beautiful,” he told her. It had been a long time since he saw her without at least the haze of the fuergar illusion surrounding her. Her scales were even shinier than he remembered, and the first flush of sapphire, moonstone, and obsidian edged the tips of her wings and tail. When she insisted on removing the ring as her reward for participating in what she saw as an unnecessarily dangerous plan, Kaz had been reluctant, but in the end, it was her choice.
A picture of one of the fulan-spawned monsters, which Zhangwo called shiyan, formed beside the image of the magnificent dragon, along with a sense of deep affront. The monster had six legs, each from a different creature, along with four slavering maws, all of which held a wild array of teeth that gnashed as drool flowed like water.
Kaz shook his head slightly. “No, no one really thinks you’re a shiyan. Vega just said that because she wanted them to attack you.”
Li sniffed and lifted one wing to preen her glittering scales. She knew that no one could possibly mistake her perfection for one of those twisted beasts, but she just wanted to make sure he knew as well.
As the tunnel gave way to the main cavern, which was now much darker, thanks to the fact that the females who had been controlling the lights now lay slumped on the ground, Kaz sent Li all of his gratitude and admiration. Without her, his plan never would have succeeded, and if he ever found this place, it would have been at the cost of far more violence.
Li accepted his thanks as her due, and the two turned their attention forward as Raff came up to greet them, his sword already back in its sheath, and his grin a little more lop-sided than usual.
“Oi, Lianhua,” he said. “You’ll never guess what we found.”