Two days later, Kaz, Li, Lianhua, Yingtao, Chi Yincang, Raff, Kyla, and Mei snuck out of Cliffcross under cover of darkness. Somehow, the journey to the mountain had become an event to which almost everyone had been invited, and the soonest they were talking about leaving was in a week. About half of Raff’s family, a good part of his guild, Princess Reina, Jinn, and even several mages were supposed to join them. Apparently this meant that a number of people had to come in order to cook and clean, which required several large, slow wagons. Eventually, Kaz told Lianhua that he and Li would be leaving with or without everyone else, and she immediately started planning their escape.

Surprisingly, Kyla was the only one who was difficult to convince, and for a while, Kaz thought they would have to leave her behind. Then Yingtao, who had been silently embroidering in a corner, casually mentioned that it would soon be the night of no moon, and Kyla realized that if she didn’t go now, she could be stuck outside the mountain for another month. After that, she was as eager as everyone else, if not more so.

For some reason, Kaz still couldn’t use either Kyla or Li’s invisibility trick, but Li was able to use his power in order to cover all of them, at least for the short time it took to escape Raff’s home. After that, they once again passed through the gates by simply mingling with all of the other people. Raff said most of them were heading to jobs on farms nearby, so they all dressed in their shabbiest clothing. Lianhua had to borrow something from Yingtao, who had many outfits of different styles for some reason, but otherwise everyone managed.

Once they were past the last of the sprawling farms that surrounded the city, it was like a cloak fell away. They all sat up straighter, their eyes were brighter, and Raff even began singing one of the songs that always made Lianhua turn a little pink and avoid looking at him.

“You said we’ll be there by tomorrow night?” Kyla asked, watching the fish swim in the little stream that parallelled the road.

Raff broke off mid-note and grinned at her. He was letting his beard grow out again, but he’d cut off the hair he’d colored black, so he looked oddly as if he’d put his head on upside down. “Yep. We ended up going way south last time because somebody tried to drown himself, so this trip’ll be a good bit quicker.” He cast an amused glance at Kaz.

Kyla sighed in relief. She’d already gone over the days multiple times, coming to the conclusion that they had just over a week before the portal into the mountain was supposed to open again. Kaz wasn’t entirely sure how she’d come to this conclusion, though she’d tried to explain it. She also said she was sure she could get the chiefs to open it early, but her knowledge was based on a howl, not experience, so Kaz didn’t think she was as certain as she acted.

They’d left at a time the portal wouldn’t usually be open, but if the great chiefs went back to the normal schedule, then the next time the mountain would open was in exactly eight days. Apparently it had to do with a schedule Qiangde - or whoever the Voice had been - had set up, rather than any particular date or phase of the moon. It mostly ended up being about four weeks apart, but not always, and somehow Kyla knew how to figure it out.

“We have plenty of time,” Lianhua soothed, stretching out to pat the young kobold on her head. Kyla had her own mount this time, but she spent just as much time off it as on. She and Mei loved to run through the brush and splash in nearby streams or ponds, then return to her horse to dry and rest.

“I know,” Kyla muttered, almost but not quite ducking out of the hand’s way. “I’m just ready to,” be home, she didn’t say, though Kaz could tell she wanted to, opting instead for, “start figuring out exactly what we have to trade.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And I’m not letting Idla get away with driving up the price of Shom’s work. She’s always making something, and she doesn’t care if anyone needs it or not. She spent four years making a sort of giant club with spikes on it, all out of adamantium. She keeps it on her desk to hold her sketches down.”

Kaz pulled his eyes away from Li, who was swooping and swirling above them, her scales brilliant in the light of the sun. Through her, he could feel the gentle warmth and the wind that lifted her up, and he had barely been listening to his friends.

“Idla mentioned Shom before. Is she really the greatest kobold smith?” he asked.

Kyla nodded, her eyes holding a kind of awe that he’d never seen there before. “She’s a Mithrilblade, of course. Her line has existed since the days of dragons. Some say one of her ancestors even made the chief’s blades, but if you ask about it she just grunts at you and refuses to answer.”

Kaz blinked. “You’ve met her?”

His cousin grinned. “I’ve met everybody. Shom is the only kobold who lives near the magma forge. It’s too hot there for even most Magmablades to stay more than an hour or two, plus Shom is the only person Vega was actually afraid of.”

This caught Lianhua’s attention. “Why?” she asked.

Kyla shrugged, then tugged at a twig that was tangled in the fur on her arm. “I don’t actually know. I think Shom is Vega and Idla’s age, but she could be older. Her fur is all white, and she’s very strong, so it’s hard to tell. I asked Aunt Sika once, but she just said there’s always been a Shom, so they must keep the name and-”

She stopped, then glanced around and almost whispered, “They must pass their core down, just like we did. That would explain why she’s so powerful. She can actually bend adamantium.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Raff’s eyes widened. “I didn’t think that was possible. Frankly, I thought adamantium could only be used as an alloy until I saw those fancy knives the kobold chiefs wave around all the time.” He flicked a glance at Kaz. “No offense, Blue.”

Kaz wasn’t sure why he should be offended. It was true that he regretted the loss of his father’s blade, but only because it had belonged to his father, not because it was the Woodblade. The Woodblade was where it belonged; in the hands of the Woodblade chief. Kaz actually liked his mage-blade, even though he did have to feed it ki. It wasn’t like he didn’t have enough of that.

Lianhua had latched onto something Kyla had said, however, and now she nudged her horse closer to the smaller one Kyla was riding. “You said they pass their core down, as if some tribes or families don’t. I got the impression everyone did, to some extent.”

Kyla’s hands clenched on her horse’s reins, and she shifted as if she might jump down and run off again. Mei was curled up in front of her, taking one of her many naps, so Kyla stayed and eventually said, “Not everyone. As far as I know, all of the great chiefs do it, but it’s not something anyone really talks about. Ija explained it to me when I became old enough to go on my spirit hunt, though.”

She took a deep breath, then continued. “When a female dies, her core is offered to her daughters. They know that if she was more powerful than them, they can fail to overcome her spirit and she will live again, to a greater or lesser extent. But if they succeed, they can add her power to their own. Among the great tribes, eating the core of the last chief is less of a choice and more of a requirement. A female who cannot defeat her mother will never be seen as strong enough to lead. Of course, in the case of my tribe, the daughter was expected to fail, so the mother could continue to lead.”

That was horrible in a way Kaz couldn’t even describe. How could a mother and daughter ever love each other if they knew that someday one of them would kill the other? Was that why relationships between chiefs and their heirs always seemed so tense and uncaring? But Oda had treated Katri better than anyone else in the tribe. Or had Oda behaved that way because she expected to be able to crush Katri’s spirit? Had Katri eaten Oda’s core, or had the core hunter done so? Uncertainty lifted the fur down his spine, and he forced himself to pay attention to what Kyla was saying.

“Sika once told me the Woodblades were the only great tribe who didn’t follow this tradition, and neither did their subsidiary tribes. That was why the Woodblade chiefs were relatively weak, but they were so respected that no one challenged them.”

Weak? Kaz didn’t think that sounded right. Admittedly, his father had never shown his power after leaving the Deep, but that wasn’t because he was weak, Kaz was certain. There was very little blue ki in the mountain, other than what was in the Tree…and that made sense. The Tree had required a great deal of blue ki in order to begin to recover. Had the Woodblades given so much of their ki to the Tree that they only had a little left for themselves?

“What about regular members of the tribe?” Lianhua asked, clearly fascinated. “Do they also eat their mother’s core?”

Kyla shrugged. “Sometimes, if they’re ambitious, but not usually. I think in most cases, the core is left in the body when it’s burned, and the female’s spirit is sung to the ancestors. It’s not really discussed, even between females. I don’t think most males have any idea, though perhaps they’re told when they take a mate. Maybe that’s why fathers love their daughters more than mothers do.”

At this, everyone fell silent, instead turning their eyes up to watch Li as she swooped through the air, chasing a small, terrified bird. She could have caught it if she wanted to, but it was too small to provide nourishment now. She was just enjoying the chase.

Kaz told his dragon, watching the way the little bird was struggling to maintain its flight. Every time it started to dip down toward the relative safety of a tree or tall bush - Kaz still wasn’t entirely clear on what the difference was - Li dove beneath it, snapping playfully at its feet.

The dragon wobbled, then dropped back, allowing the feathered creature to finally land on a branch full of leaves that hid it from view. she said. Kaz just stared at her until she blew a large ring of vapor and dove through it.

she told him, sending a flashing image of one of their favorite dreams. In this one, she blew ring after ring as Kaz chased her, trying to get closer while not missing any of the rapidly disintegrating circles.

His tail wagged. For now, that meant she had to grow large enough to support him on her back, because he wasn’t quite ready to try the other option; the one he’d only just begun to realize might become a reality someday. He needed to have an incredibly clear image to build on, and so far, it was hazy at best.

Raff cleared his throat. “Do we want to stop for lunch, or eat in the saddle? It’ll be better for the horses to stop, and the stream empties into a pond not far ahead. There’s a waterfall and,” he threw a look at Kyla, who was gently stroking Mei’s rounded side, “I hear the fishing’s good, though I haven’t tried it myself.” He made a face. “After you’ve had saltwater fish, these little freshwater ones just don’t compare.”

Kyla looked up, her ears lifting as her tail began to wag. “Minnows?”

The big male grinned. “D’you remember the big fish in the river Kaz fell into?”

Kyla’s tail began to thump against her horse’s back, making the animal look around. It was a calm beast for the most part, which was good because most horses didn’t seem to like the smell of kobold, but every now and then it became mildly irritated at its young rider’s peculiarities.

Raff laughed at the reaction. “Friend o’ mine claims he caught a fish as long as his arm there once. He’s almost as short as Lianhua, though, and fishermen always exaggerate.” Lianhua gave him a mock glare, and he shrugged. “Sorry, but you know it’s true.”

Yingtao had remained silent through all of this, though her eyes constantly scanned the surrounding area. Now she looked at Raff, raising her brows. “Lady Lianhua is precisely the height a lady should be.”

“O’ course you’d say that,” Raff said, then stilled as Yingtao’s calm eyes met his. Her hands folded together, the reins vanishing into her sleeves, and Raff coughed slightly as he clicked his tongue and tapped his heels against his horse’s sides. “Last one there is a rotten turtle,” he called back, his horse speeding along the road as Lianhua and Yingtao exchanged amused smiles.