A kobold, two husede, one human, and a dragon raced through trembling halls. Once, they had to clear the remains of a doorway out of their path, and twice they met other husede, who simply yielded to them when they saw Thabil. Kaz glanced back at the first pair, seeing that they were staring after the group with gaping mouths.
Their destination turned out to be one of the platforms covered in ki crystals. Like Thabil’s device, there were yellow and white stones mingled among the red in a distinct pattern that Kaz would probably think was beautiful at any other time. Unlike the other platforms Kaz had seen, this one stood alone, and again, his sense of where he was told him that he was directly above the heart of the mountain.
Turning to Kaz, Thabil held out her hand. “I need my control wand. Only a fifth level jingli or higher can use this platform.”
Kaz hesitated, then stepped onto the platform. Lianhua followed his lead, and only when all of them were clustered uncomfortably close together inside the three-and-a-half-foot circle did Kaz hand the control device to Thabil. He wasn’t worried that she could hurt him or Lianhua with it, but he didn’t want her to jump onto the platform and escape. She had yielded to him, which would be absolute among kobolds, but who knew if husede understood honor in the same way? It wasn’t a topic Kaz had ever discussed with Ogden, the only gray dwarf he knew well enough to ask.
Accepting the tool, Thabil bowed her head, which was the most she could do in the cramped space. She tapped the object to the slender column in the center of the platform, and once again, red light surrounded Kaz.
This time, there were no other people or objects in the two rooms through which they flashed before the veil of light fell. Finding this room empty as well, Kaz held out his hand for the control ‘wand’, which Thabil returned to him without a hint of reluctance. Feeling reassured, Kaz tucked it back beneath his belt and looked around the bare space.
Two passages exited the small room, one an open archway, and the other a closed door. Upon closer inspection, this door was all but identical to the one Kaz had blown up on the storage level, except that there was no rust, and the narrow stripe around the outside edge was white instead of black.
Stepping forward, Thabil laid the palm of her hand flat on this door, then summoned her mana, which swirled and rose into her hand. Beneath it, red, yellow, and white ki rose from hidden crystals, their presence concealed by whatever alloy the door was made of. When mana and ki met, there was a soft click, and the door swung open.
Kaz sighed softly as he followed the husede through the door. Of course the answer was mana. Kaz was just so used to working with ki that the idea had never even occurred to him. But what did every mosui and husede have? Mana, not ki. They used tools to refine that mana into ki, but the mana itself was their most essential source of power.
Hearing the sound, Thabil glanced back at Kaz, looking slightly perplexed. Apparently deciding that Kaz was upset because he had wanted to open the door, she said, “It was locked. Each of us has our own particular power, our ‘mana signature’, Zhangwo calls it. When a jingli is promoted to fifth, we go to Zhangwo’s lab, and he records our signature, which is then communicated to each of these doors in the city. Only someone with the correct signature can open a door.”
Unless you just blow it up, he thought wryly, thinking of all the trouble that could have been avoided if he hadn’t made so much noise getting through that door. Though if he’d been quieter, the mosui might not have come after him, and if the storage room hadn’t burned, who knew how long he would have kept searching for a set of stairs leading up. Plus, the manufacturing level would still have been filled with husede when he snuck through it, so it would have been much harder to get to the stairs there.
With a soft whistle, Li bumped her head against his jaw, rubbing against his fur affectionately. She wasn’t prone to such gestures, but he supposed she had missed him while they were separated, and he appreciated the thought right up until she rubbed so hard the sharp little bumps that were beginning to form on her skull scraped against his skin painfully. Reaching up, he started to push her away, but to his horror, he felt her scales slip and stick to his fingers.
With a yelp, Kaz reached up and pulled Li from his shoulder, struggling to hang onto the wriggling, annoyed dragon. He stared at her, seeing that he hadn’t simply been imagining things when he looked at her after talking to Nucai. She really was paler than usual, her golden scales nearly white, and even her eyes seemed cloudy, like those of a very old kobold. The scales on her head were the worst, peeling and cracking around her mouth and eyes.
Lianhua was behind him, and when he stopped, she did too. Tilting her head, she examined Li critically, but to his surprise, she didn’t look at all concerned. In fact, a broad smile was spreading across her face.
“She’s molting!” Lianhua exclaimed, reaching out to tug at the end of Li’s tail. The entire top layer of scales pulled away, revealing a gleaming, golden surface with just the faintest hint of silver at the tip.
Kaz looked from Lianhua to Li, who was now rubbing her head against his hand vigorously, letting him know that she itched. With some hesitation, he shifted her to the crook of his arm and copied Lianhua, gently rubbing at the scales on top of her head.
Lianhua looked at the limp, pale scrap of skin in her hand with something like glee, then tucked it into her pouch. Looking back up at Kaz, a soft pink flush rose in her cheeks. “Drag- That is, this can be used to craft certain elixirs and pills. I’ll keep it for you, and you can have it back if you need it later.”
Kaz whined softly as a large piece of skin came free and pulled away, revealing newly sharp protrusions on Li’s head, as well as several more around the back of her skull. He handed the discarded stuff to Lianhua, who accepted it gladly.
“What’s happening to her?” Kaz asked, as another piece lifted away, revealing a bright gold eye with sparks of black, blue, and white swirling in it.
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“She’s growing,” Lianhua said, grinning. “You have reptiles in the mountain. Don’t they shed their skin when it gets too small?”
Kaz shook his head. “If so, I’ve never seen it. This is-”
A crash, the loudest one Kaz had heard yet, shook the room, and they both realized that this was very much not the time to be discussing the care and maintenance of dragons. Turning, Kaz saw that Thabil and Erith had reached another of the locked doors, this one with a black stripe around it, like the one Kaz had destroyed. It already stood open, and the two husede had had plenty of time to go through and lock it, trapping Kaz, Li, and Lianhua outside. They hadn’t, and Kaz felt most of his lingering distrust drain away.
Setting Li back on his shoulder, Kaz hurried forward again, and the group soon stepped into a large, round room with two chairs in the center. Two pedestals stood in front of each one, at a good distance for someone the size of a husede or a particularly tall mosui to grasp them while seated.
Thabil gestured to the first chair. “This is the governing chair, where I sit. The other chair is for Erith, who has far too much power for his own good. He’ll provide the energy for the cannon.”
Erith swallowed hard, then gave a wobbly smile. “Zhangwo said Thabil should be able to get three shots out of me before I die, and then five with her own strength. He told us to make sure the humans were dead in seven.”
Thabil scowled. “I’ll get it done in two, though it won’t be the humans I aim for.”
Kaz looked at the chairs, then at Erith. “Can I control it instead? And you can sit in the second chair?”
She hesitated, then shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t know what you are, or what you can do. Male kobolds aren’t supposed to have any power at all, so… maybe?”
Kaz tugged at his ear thoughtfully, then nodded, meeting her dark eyes with his own. “Do it the way you’re supposed to. Shoot at Zhangwo. If it takes more than two attempts, I’ll sit there.” He pointed at the second chair.
Thabil stared at him, then bowed slightly and gestured to Erith. Both husede hurried to their chairs and set their hands on the pedestals ahead of them. Their mana rose, pulled as much as pushed down through the slim columns, which passed it down through the floor below. A soft hum surrounded them, and Kaz stared around as the walls turned red, then vanished.
At Lianhua’s startled exclamation, Kaz followed her line of sight, seeing Zhangwo and Chi Yincang through or on the now-hidden wall. Their figures were about the size of Kaz’s hand, but he could see enough detail to tell that they were both in poor condition.
Zhangwo was battered and bloody, his fine robes in shreds. The body beneath was surprisingly muscular, and as he thrust out a hand, his shoulders rippled. An unseen wave poured out of his palm, and a few more of the massive blocks of fallen stone all around him shattered into dust and shards. His teeth were bared, and there was nothing sane in the expression of hatred he directed at his opponent.
Chi Yincang looked slightly better, if only because his clothing was intact. His long hair had come loose at some point, and the scalp over one eye was torn, creating a mask of blood covering the right side of his face. His weapon spun, almost too fast to be seen, and when another cone of force blasted toward him, he somehow cut it in two with a swing of the long blade even as he lunged toward Zhangwo with killing intent. Rocks and other debris exploded on either side of him, but only a breeze ruffled his robes.
The hum surrounding Kaz deepened, and he turned away from the scene long enough to see a white circle form on the ‘wall’, followed by another, smaller one. Thabil’s face twisted in concentration, and the circles split, then came together again, now encircling Zhangwo’s battered form, with the central circle focused on his head.
Erith let out a cry, stiffening in his seat as mana was sucked out through his hand, and a deep red blade of light stabbed down toward the mosui leader from above. He was already moving to avoid Chi Yincang’s return blow, and somehow managed to stumble out of the way as the stone beneath him transformed into a smoking, melted pit.
Looking up, Zhangwo seemed to meet Kaz’s eyes as he stared directly into whatever device was transmitting his image. He lifted his hand, making a gesture Kaz didn’t recognize, but a small, satisfied smile crossed Thabil’s face when she saw it.
“Oh, no,” she said. “It wasn’t a mistake, great one.”
The circles spun out, then focused again, this time on Zhangwo’s chest instead of his head. It was a larger target, and a strike there would kill him just as thoroughly. This time, Erith’s body jerked, and when Kaz looked at him, he saw that blood was leaking from the male’s nose and the corner of his mouth.
The red light flashed out for the second time, slightly weaker, but it seemed Zhangwo hadn’t entirely believed the previous attack was an error, because even though his attention seemed to be focused on Chi Yincang, who was harrying him with rapid-fire blows, he still managed to dodge out of the way. In fact, it was Chi Yincang who was most hurt by the cannon’s blast, which threw him back against a huge chunk of what had probably once been the ceiling.
Reaching out, Kaz pulled Erith from the chair. The young husede’s body was unresisting, and though he was conscious, he stared sightlessly forward until his knees gave out, dropping him to the floor. Lianhua glanced from him to Kaz, clearly torn about what she should do.
“Help him,” Kaz growled, reaching up to tug at Li. The dragon dug in her claws, unwilling to be removed, and more bits of skin slipped through Kaz’s fingers.
Go, Kaz thought, but got back only stubborn refusal. Kaz sent an image of himself, as empty as Erith, and Li little more than a husk on his shoulder. The dragon returned herself, wings spread, with a brilliant stream of ki passing between her body and the small blue kobold on which she sat.
On the wall, Zhangwo was taking advantage of Chi Yincang’s momentary immobility. The human’s fighting style depended on constant movement, jumping, swaying, and spinning as he dealt blow after blow. The failed attack from the cannon had actually thrown Chi Yincang hard enough to create a human-shaped depression in the stone against which he landed, and Zhangwo was able to get hold of him as he tried to free himself.
Zhangwo caught Chi Yincang’s weapon on one hand, gripping the human’s hand and squeezing in an attempt to make him drop it. This failed, but he did manage to keep the weapon from being used against him, at least for the moment. His opposite hand was around Chi Yincang’s throat, and though he had to be almost a foot shorter than the human, there was nothing humorous about the picture they made.
Chi Yincang’s free hand struck out, again and again, striking at Zhangwo’s eyes, throat, and nose. The mosui ignored it all, his teeth bared in a bloody grin as he squeezed, the muscles of his back and shoulders bulging beneath the strain. Kaz was certain that if he could see the flow of mana in the ancient male’s body, his upper body would be absolutely filled with it.
Lianhua had knelt beside Erith, her fingers pressed to the side of his neck, but now her eyes were glued to the image. “Oh,” she whispered, horror-struck. “No.”
Thabil still had her hands on the pedestals, and now she looked at Kaz. “Hurry up, or I’ll finish him without your help,” she snapped.
Kaz shook his head. “You have to wait. If you shoot now, you’ll kill Chi Yincang as well.”
The husede’s face closed down into a cold, expressionless mask. “Then we’ll sing him to the gods tonight.”
Her fingers tightened, and Kaz lunged at her.