Kaz found a ledge where Li could sleep, then cut away some of the stone nearby with his mage blade. Once he had two angled protrusions carved out, he tied ropes to them and spent that night in the hammock Raff had given him. It was almost disturbing how easy it was, but when he was stretched out in the hammock with Li sleeping on the nearby ledge, he fell asleep quickly and easily, not lingering on what might happen the following day.
He woke to find Li’s head resting on his chest, her neck stretched out awkwardly from her ledge, and was afraid to move for fear of disturbing their delicate balance. Not that either of them would be seriously hurt by a fall that could be no more than ten feet, but he didn’t really want to start the day by falling on his snout. Plus, while Li’s head was now about the same size as her whole body had been when she hatched, he still enjoyed their time together. Now that she could move about freely, she seemed determined to make up for the time she spent hidden, so they were rarely so close for long.
Turning his head, he saw that a pale light was painting the stony, muddy ground with a luminescent glow. The sun was rising, and there, limned by its radiance, stood a shadowy figure. He balanced on one foot, the other lifted in the air, knee bent. One arm stretched behind him, while the other was bent in front. As Kaz watched, he shifted position, moving with a slow, steady grace that seemed both elegant and unstoppable at once.
Elder Long spent the time of the sun’s rising gradually shifting through ever more complex movements. Some looked almost like a dance, while others would have been vicious blows, if they hadn’t been performed so slowly. He was surrounded by an ever-flowing cloud of mana that sank through his skin and condensed into ki so quickly that Kaz couldn’t even see it happen.
At last, the old human resumed the same position he’d held at the beginning, then slowly settled both feet to the ground and bowed toward the sun. His ki withdrew into his body, once again expanding and contracting rhythmically, like breathing or a heartbeat. Then he turned and looked directly at Kaz and Li.
Li eyed him for a moment, then said,
Kaz thought about it, but his heart was hammering in his chest. He was sure she knew it, too.
She gave a soft, thoughtful whistle, the first one he’d heard from her in a while. Then she slid from her ledge, stretching her wings just long enough to glide to the earth rather than falling. Kaz wasn’t far behind her, though he had to stop and put away the hammock, and by the time he did the others were beginning to emerge from their tents.
It seemed that Chi Yincang had either kept watch all night, as he often did, or had taken the last watch, because he appeared from the deepest shadow beneath the overhang. His skin actually held a slight sheen, and his usually dusty aroma was touched by sweat. What had he been doing? Kaz suspected he knew, however. If Kaz had been able to move, he might have tried to copy Elder Long, and there hadn’t been a dragon head pinning Chi Yincang down.
Then Mei scampered out of the shadows behind him, her belly looking even rounder than it had been after dinner the night before. Kaz chuffed a small laugh and shook his head, seeing it. The fuergar still moved with surprising grace, but Kaz suspected that had more to do with the ever-deepening ki in her body than her current physical ability.
Kyla and Raff were stretching and yawning, the little kobold looking almost like a human child beside the much larger male. When she saw Mei, however, she yipped a greeting and scooped up the rotund rodent, her wagging tail breaking the illusion.
“What have you been eating?” she demanded of Mei as Kaz and Li walked up beside them. “No more cheese for you!”
The fuergar seemed undisturbed by this declaration, probably because Kaz had noticed absolutely everyone in their group feeding her at some point over the last few days. The creature would never go hungry, no matter what Kyla said, and that was all for the best. Kaz was certain she would need her strength soon enough.
Breakfast was an unhurried matter, with Raff setting a thin, flat piece of metal over the fire, while he laid another one with a shallow lip over the fire stone. Onto the first he laid flat strips of fatty meat, which sizzled and popped, releasing clouds of aromatic steam. He cracked more than a dozen eggs into the second, then topped both with leaves he’d chopped very small.
The meat and eggs were delicious, and Kaz wondered if insect eggs would taste as good if he tried cooking them the same way. He’d once eaten a hoyi egg, which he didn’t think would work for this, but jiyun could lay hundreds of eggs that kobolds usually allowed to hatch, since the grubs were delicious and only mildly poisonous. He didn’t know if anyone had ever tried cooking the eggs themselves, but it seemed like it was worth a try.
Chi Yincang made tea, serving it to Elder Long while Yingtao carefully poured a cup for Lianhua. Lianhua herself hadn’t spoken a word since emerging from her tent, but she kept darting glances between Kaz and Elder Long that told him that even if Kyla had been oblivious to what happened the night before, at least some of the humans weren’t.
Only when food and tea were gone, dishes cleaned, tents packed, and Raff was preparing the horses did the soft conversations shift from greetings and discussions of the fine drizzle still falling intermittently from the sky. Kaz had never known there could be so many words for the way water fell. Drizzle was a new one to him, and one he decided he didn’t really like. The moisture wasn’t heavy enough to soak his thick fur, but it wouldn’t be pleasant for Kyla, with her burned patches. All of the brittle pieces of fur had broken off, and new fur was forming in swirls of fuzz across her pink skin, but she had to be both wet and cold.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
But somehow Raff never quite brought the horses forward from where they were tied at the back of the overhang, and finally Yingtao drew Kyla away, offering the young kobold a circle of oiled cloth with a hole cut in the middle of it. There was a deep hood sewn into the hole, and the item was apparently meant to keep the rain off of the wearer. It looked like it would be more effective than the umbrella Lianhua seemed to prefer, since the rain couldn’t blow across and soak the user’s lower body.
As soon as Kyla was distracted, Lianhua fell to her knees before Kaz, placing her hands on the ground in front of her before bowing over them. She didn’t seem to notice the drying mud pressing up between her fingers, and she didn’t look up as everyone around them fell silent. Then her grandfather knelt beside her, assuming the same position.
Kaz froze, staring at them, until Li nudged his hand.
He did so, and they both sat back, though they didn’t stand. Kaz was shocked to see tears dripping from Lianhua’s chin, and the tip of her nose was red. Elder Long’s face was as expressionless as Chi Yincang’s, but the corners of his mouth held deep creases that hadn’t been there the night before.
“Kaz,” Lianhua finally managed to say, “do you remember the promise you made me?”
Which one? They had promised to guard each other’s secrets, promised to watch over each other, even promised to tell each other when they were going to do something that might be dangerous. But somehow he knew, so he said, “I promised I would help your grandmother, if I could.”
Her face lit up with a smile that was at once hopeful and sad. She looked at her grandfather, who said, “It was that promise that brought me here.” He sighed, absently touching a ring on his left hand in what Kaz thought was the first unplanned movement he’d made since he arrived.
“My wife - Lianhua’s grandmother - has lived far beyond her level of cultivation. At first, we believed she could advance with me, but no matter what we did, she stalled at late Foundation. We found secret cultivation techniques, and bought cultivation pills that were the masterwork of their creators, but she simply couldn’t move on. Even her body cultivation halted at late Iron. We thought it might be because she had only two types of ki, but when she tried to gain more, that failed as well.”
Now he was twisting the simple golden band on his finger, and swallowed hard before saying, “She should have died decades ago.” Beside him Lianhua gasped, and he smiled at her, the gentleness of it catching Kaz off guard. “She likely never would have met Lianhua, never been able to guide her, but I have access to things others cannot even dream of. Baihe remained alive and in relatively good health until a few years ago. At that point, her organs simply began to fail. When we bolstered one, another grew weaker, and so did she. The end was coming, and she didn’t-”
His voice broke, and Lianhua’s hand came to rest on his, stilling the movement. Her grandfather closed his eyes, and for a moment, he was just a male, on the brink of losing the female to whom he had sworn his life. There was no doubt he was by far the most powerful human Kaz had met, but even he was helpless before death.
“She wanted to see Lianhua happy,” he said. “She told me our granddaughter had found someone to love, and the way her eyes sparkled-” He stopped, cleared his throat, and tried again.
“I’m an old man. I was old when I married her, and have only grown older, as is the way of things. The happiness she saw wasn’t one I could understand, and so when she knew the end was coming, she took a cultivation pill I had been keeping for her. It was meant for the day when she finally broke through, and we could ascend together. She hoped it would be enough to allow her to see Lianhua wed, but instead it…broke something in her mind. Her body grew stronger, but she was all but gone, and there was nothing I could do. Nothing but watch the last hints of her wash away in an inexorable tide.”
Lianhua was even paler than usual now, her amethyst eyes huge, and she whispered, “You said she was trying to break through so she could ascend with you.”
The old male finally looked at her. “If I told you the truth, you would have blamed yourself. I can see you doing it now.” He glanced from Lianhua to Yingtao, who was standing beside a cloth-draped Kyla, her expression stricken. “But it was my fault. If I had let you be yourself, you would never have spent so long trying to be someone else. You would have admitted to me, and yourself, that you loved differently, but just as strongly. Your grandmother would have seen you happy, then allowed herself to rest.”
Gently, he took his hand out from under that of his granddaughter, turning it palm up. A burst of ki circled the ring, and a tiny figurine appeared in his hand. It was a human, perfectly captured in stone, with hair as long and white as his own, wearing robes that were similar, but covered in delicate flowers and birds, rather than intricate golden patterns.
Lianhua gasped, and Yingtao finally broke, coming forward to kneel beside her mate, wrapping her arms around Lianhua’s shoulders. “Grandmother,” Lianhua choked out, tears beginning again. “Is she-?”
Elder Long’s face held all of his years now. Channels were carved from his nose to his mouth, across his forehead, and around his eyes. He shed no tears, but there was a depth of pain in the black eyes that Kaz wouldn’t have guessed he could feel.
“Not yet,” he said, “but close. I prepared this talisman for when the time came, though I promised myself I wouldn’t use it unless there was some hope for her. There was none, until the day you met Kaz, and he promised to help.”
Kaz glanced at Chi Yincang, whose face was as unreadable as ever. Kaz was certain Lianhua hadn’t told anyone - except possibly Yingtao - of their promise, and he was equally certain that Elder Long had learned of it through Chi Yincang. Somehow, the old male was able to see through Chi Yincang’s eyes, and possibly hear through his ears as well, even when a great distance separated them. How Chi Yincang knew something that was supposed to have been locked behind a silence rune, Kaz didn’t know, but there was no doubt he did.
Dismissing that as unimportant, at least for now, Kaz asked, “Was that like the talisman Chi Yincang used to capture Gaoda? Lianhua said it was meant to save people who were injured, so they could be brought to a healer.”
Elder Long nodded. “Exactly like that. I had three of the last ones known to exist. The Emperor has some as well, but I don’t know how many, and I have reason to believe there are no more. The Diushi were truly masters at creating tools that defy our understanding today.”
Those tools were probably developed because of Qiangde’s obsession with discovering how humans were able to ascend. Still, this one seemed to have many positive uses, including the ability to seal Gaoda’s mouth. And, of course, allow Elder Long to bring his wife to Kaz.
Kaz looked between Lianhua and her grandfather, and finally saw some resemblance. Though their irises were very different colors, the looks they were giving him were identical. But how could he possibly succeed where some countless number of pills and treatments had failed? Especially if he had only a very limited amount of time to try.
Then Li stepped in front of him, her eyes locked on the little figure. For a horrified moment Kaz thought she might eat it, but her tongue only flickered out, barely touching the miniature body. Kaz could see Elder Long struggle not to snatch his hand away, but he held still until Li said,