Kaz wished he could have seen the plaza properly before it was filled with the remains of the shiyan. In Li’s eyes, the patterns formed by the bricks were complex and beautiful, though the body and fluids smeared across them made it difficult to tell if they created an overall image. His own vision, however, showed ki crystals glowing beneath the stones, and there were more of the rare colors there than Kaz had seen anywhere else before, even in the yumi pools and the cavern containing the Tree.
Li was practically drooling as she stared at the glow lighting the bricks from below. she muttered. Here even her imagination gave out. Neither of them had ever seen more of the outside world than the barren slopes of the upper mountain and the broad sky, so she had no real idea what else there was to eat.
Kaz lifted his blind eyes to stare at the spot where the cores and knives of the chiefs had gathered near an empty stone archway. Again, his vision and Li’s disagreed on what was there. The dragon mostly saw carved stone curving high overhead, but Kaz could tell there were more ki crystals embedded there. They were inactive at the moment, unlike the ones beneath the plaza bricks, but there were five distinct trails, one of each ki type, leading from the arch to the spot where the chiefs were standing.
As they approached, Lianhua twitched, clearly longing to let go of Kaz and take out her book. Then she looked at Kaz, lingering on his sightless eyes, and bit her lip, her grip firming on his arm. Li didn’t see any identifiable runes carved into the stone, but there were a great number of fairly detailed images of all three kinds of ‘kobolds’. The reptilian type were definitely represented most often, and Kaz was about to tell Lianhua she could let him go and sketch them when howling rose again.
The sound was weak, a breathless variant of the ‘I’m on my way’ howl that warriors used when tribe members called for them. Kaz already knew who it would be before he turned to look toward the noise. His chest clenched, because he had genuinely intended to invite Ratre to leave with him, before he learned that kobolds who lacked a core would become little more than beasts if they left the mountain. He had no idea how long that transformation might take, but the male had suffered enough without that indignity.
Three warriors appeared, two of them carrying the third between them. Ratre’s howl was pitiful, and when he entered the open area, he barely flinched at the presence of the gigantic corpse, instead staring around, looking for something. Or someone.
Kaz lifted his arms from Raff and Lianhua’s gentle grasp, and took a single shaky step toward the newcomers, giving a hoarse yip of greeting. At the sight of him, Ratre’s howl shifted to a low, pained whine, and the Woodclaw male began to struggle to get down. The bone support Kaz had fixed for him was strapped to his stump, and it made a soft thud as it impacted the bricks, giving Kaz something to focus on.
“Ratre?” he asked, trying to sound uncertain, and the older male walked toward him, barely hobbling, though his speed clearly hadn’t been fast enough for the others with him.
Ratre’s voice was strangled as he said, “What happened? How did this-” His voice cracked, and he reached out, fingers hovering just over Kaz’s bare skin, though he didn’t quite make contact.
Kaz shook his head, then fell forward as if his paws couldn’t hold him any longer. He wrapped his arms around Ratre, and the male froze, then reached up and hugged Kaz in return. The feeling of strong arms around him reminded Kaz so much of being held by his father that he hesitated, nearly losing himself in the moment rather than finishing the rune he had begun drawing in his mind. Li gave a soft click, however, and his fingers twitched as he completed the ‘silence’ rune.
“I’ll be all right,” he murmured softly, hiding his muzzle against Ratre’s chest. It was difficult, since Ratre was actually slightly shorter than Kaz, but Kaz didn’t think anyone should be able to see his mouth move. “You need to stay here, though. The pup with the other chiefs is Gram, a true Woodblade, and he needs you even more than I do.”
Ratre started to speak, and Kaz cut him off. “I’m sorry I have to break my promise to keep you with me, but you can’t leave the mountain, and I must. Protect Gram. Teach him what made the Woodblades better than the other tribes, and don’t let anyone else lead him astray. Can you do that?”
Ratre nodded once, sharp and short, and his eyes now rested on the little blue puppy barely visible at the paws of the other chiefs. “Bright howls,” he growled softly, and Kaz drew back, letting the rune fade from his mind.
“Bright howls,” he said, and stepped back, holding out his arms to each side so Raff and Lianhua could grasp them again.
The familiar scent of jejing touched Kaz’s nose as a cranky voice reached his ears. He turned his head, allowing his eyes to go over the head of the old healer, Jul, even though Li told him the other male was only a few steps away. Jul must have been a bit behind the others, but managed to catch up while Kaz and Ratre spoke.
This was not good. Kaz had been pretending that superficial damage was far worse than it was, and his obvious blindness had convinced the chiefs and everyone else that he was entering death’s final cavern. The healer, however, was unlikely to be fooled by missing fur and shaky legs. If he decided to argue against the chiefs allowing Kaz to leave, he might well cause them to question their own decision.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Jul circled Kaz, looking him up and down as Kaz pretended to be trying to identify the old male by sound and smell, turning his head with painful slowness as Jul moved around. Once he’d completed a full circuit, the healer let out a considering sound, then sighed regretfully. “Teck said the pup wants to leave. It’s a shame, but I see no point in forcing him to stay,” he said, ignoring the fact that no one had actually asked for his opinion.
Reaching out, Jul clasped Kaz’s hand in his own, and Kaz felt something hard press into his palm as the other male leaned close. “Come back when you realize where you belong, young kobold,” he murmured very, very quietly before stepping away.
“Fair howls,” Jul said more loudly, and crossed over to Ratre’s side to begin fussing with the bone strapped to the Woodclaw’s stump.
The five chiefs moved together, three on one side of the arch, and two on the other. Gram stood between Ija and Tisde, holding a knife as long as he was, while Idla and Avli stood side by side across from them. Avli and Idla’s blades slid easily into the stone of the archway, and Kaz could see how their cores began to drain at a terrible rate, the ki entering and starting to fill the ki stones hidden within the curved structure. Avli gasped softly, clearly not ready for it, but Idla just gritted her teeth and held onto the hilt of her knife.
Idla looked over at Tisdi. “It’s worse than it used to be,” she told her fellow chief, and Tisdi nodded in acknowledgement, though she seemed puzzled. Kaz could have told them that it probably wasn’t actually worse, but Idla’s core no longer held as much power as it had before. There was nothing he could do about it, however, and Idla was actually very good at controlling the amount of power that was being drawn out through her blade, so he said nothing.
Turning to Gram and Ija, Tisdi helped them find the right spots to place their knives, and then they slid all three blades in at once. Instantly, power surged out of Gram and Tisdi, and if the Waveblade hadn’t grasped Gram’s little paw, holding it to the hilt of his blade, the puppy would have let go. Fortunately, three of the four chiefs contained large quantities of their respective ki, and Idla looked grimly determined. But now everyone was looking at Ija, who was, in turn, looking at the stub end of the Magmablade, which barely protruded from the stone in front of her.
Ija tried holding the hilt up so the nub in the hilt pressed against the rest of the blade, and Kaz could see her power shift inside her, but it only turned back on itself when it touched the break in the knife, causing Ija to yank her hand back with a yelp. The hilt fell to the ground, skittering and spinning away with a clatter.
On the other side, Idla looked up with eyes that were already tired, and said, “Just touch the blade, foolish female. When Shom broke it, she swore that it would still work even without the part that was sent away with Oda.”
Kaz was suddenly, fiercely curious about this Shom, who he was sure Idla had mentioned before. Li helped him dredge up the memory of the Goldblade chief showing off the ridiculously large sword she’d traded to Lianhua. At that time, she’d called Shom their ‘greatest smith’. Now, Kaz wondered how this smith could possibly know the exact place to break the blade without also destroying its functionality.
Even that thought was driven from his mind, however, as the air inside the great archway shimmered like the surface of a mirror, or a particularly clear pool of water. He saw himself, exactly the way Li had pictured him, except even more pathetic, if that was possible. His belt and pack hung off him, his bulk abruptly reduced by the lack of fur. Only the fuulong silk loincloth Lianhua had given him looked intact, but it was also coming loose, hanging in folds that barely covered him.
Li lay draped across his bare shoulders, her scales supple and gleaming, colors brilliant in her swirling eyes. Next to them stood Lianhua, Raff, and a clearly visible Chi Yincang, though they all looked slightly soft, as if he’d just woken from sleep and rubbed his eyes, and his vision hadn’t quite recovered yet.
He blinked, realizing that somehow he was able to see all of this himself, not through Li, and then the whole thing shimmered again, and Kaz found himself staring into the furious face of Nucai.
“Kobold,” the ancient being hissed, his sharp white teeth all too visible as he dropped his pretense at humanity. Behind him, the pen scratched away on the table, the parchment it was meant to write on having fallen into a crumpled heap on the floor.
Kaz’s gaze met Nucai’s, and he could tell that the other didn’t care at all about Kaz’s injuries. Instead, his eyes flicked down to Kaz’s abdomen, his clawed hand reaching out toward Kaz’s core. Kaz took an involuntary step back, saying, “What do you want?”
Nucai’s thin lips peeled back. “What you owe me! I saved your pathetic life when your father offered you to me, and again when you broke the core I made for you. Now, just when you might have something useful to offer me, you dare try to leave this mountain? Worse, you helped the Tree!”
Kaz’s eyes widened. “But Qiangde grew the Tree. He wanted it to be strong. Why are you angry?”
For the first time, the other looked something less than absolutely certain. “How do you know that name? The Master never-” He shook his head, then lifted his arms, motioning to the rows of shelves that vanished into the distance behind him. “The Tree is my prison, foolish kobold. Once, it was a sanctuary, but now I huddle inside, trapped by my final task. Do you know how long I waited, how many tiny kobold lives I had to manipulate, to finally-” He broke off, pale face almost incandescent with fury and frustration.
Fists clenching, Nucai forced something that might have been a smile on someone else’s face. “Now, come to me. All will be forgiven, and,” his eyes flickered to Li, a long, narrow tongue darting out to moisten his lips, “I will help you achieve greatness.”
Nucai jerked back. “I’m no-”
At last.