Utterly flabbergasted to silence, Pia stared mutely at Mow. Sect leader? Ruwe’s Master? She looked the man over again. He didn’t look old enough to be Ruwe’s Master. She’d have expected his Master to be a wise, ancient, hermit Sage who lived atop some frozen mountain peak for a thousand years, and Ruwe his little ice prince apprentice.
“You’re the Sect Leader? And Ruwe’s Master?” she asked, parroting his words back to him with heavy disbelief.
He nodded, absently smoothing the front of his robes. Her eyes caught on those elegant, fine threads. Perhaps he wasn’t fooling her. Still…
“Why would the Sect Leader of Xieya have been in Dwelling of all places? We’re not that large of a village.”
Shifting in his seat, Mow reached behind him to adjust a thick cushion, pushing it and pulling it until he deemed it just right. When he was comfortable, Mow rubbed his jaw absently, as if thinking about what he wanted to say.
“As I mentioned, I’d had my eye on you. Or some of my eyes,” he said, giving her a little wink as he tilted his head to the left.
Slowly, her head turned, following the motion. Her eyes landed on the crows. Once more they chattered as soon as her eyes met theirs. The crows? Whipping her head around, Pia pointed at the crows.
“Those were your eyes?” she asked incredulously. How in the heavens?
“Not those in particular, though I see they also have a fondness for you, but yes, the crows in Dwelling have been my eyes.”
At that, he stood and crossed the room, standing below the perch and offering his hand. One of the crows hopped down, its head tilting at a steep angle as it eyed Mow. From her spot, Pia saw a red glowing rune on the crown of the bird’s head.
Without asking, Pia stood and went to him. Mow and the crow watched her as she came close, but neither objected. When Pia reached the pair, she held out her hand to the crow with a questioning look.
Mow shifted his hand close to her, offering the crow. The crow gave her that same suspicious look, head cocking side to side, giving her a chance to observe it closely. The red glowing rune on the back of his head was one she didn’t recognize.
“What is that?” she asked as the crow finally hopped from Mow’s hand to hers. It’s strong, sharp talons curled around her hand, and the weight of it surprised her. It picked at the fabric of her sleeve, making Pia smile. She’d always liked crows. Even knowing that they might’ve all been spies didn’t ruin that feeling.
“It’s a bonding rune. The crows and I have a pact,” he told her, though Pia guessed that was only a gist of the whole story, but the only amount of information he’d give her.
She lifted her hand up to the perch and the crow hopped back beside the others. They were silent now, only watching with those cunning black eyes.
“I’m not important enough to have bird spies in Dwelling for…” Pia said, feeling out what she wanted to ask. “There were other reasons you were there?”
Mow’s hand clapped on her shoulder, squeezing.
“Beautifully put. As you’re Ruwe’s apprentice, and I’ve been reminded of this exceedingly often, there’s not much I can tell you without facing the wrath of my dearest disciple. Still, I felt you were owed an explanation, and since Ruwe will be gone until Lunar New Year…” Mow released her shoulder and let out a sigh. “And you were already here in Snowbird, so, as they say, I seized the opportunity.”
Between the lines, Pia thought she understood. Mow wouldn’t go against Ruwe’s wishes for her training, but he was interfering since he’d gotten the chance. Still, Pia thought, biting her lip.
“You’re the Sect Leader, can’t you do whatever you want?”
Mow laughed and walked over to the shelves behind them. Picking up a book he idly thumbed through the pages and looked about the room. It felt as if he were here, but somewhere far away in thought. She felt drained from her outburst, the day’s events, the information she’d received. Pia wanted to simultaneously demand answers and lay down on the floor and absorb it all.
“The nature of our sect is…complicated, Pia. That’s all I’ll say on that.” He gave her a knowing look as her face twisted in frustration. To be fed information the size of a grain of rice left her starving for more.
A bit of empathy moved him to add, “Trust in your Master. He has his reasons. I heard he left you an extensive training schedule?”
Startled by the sudden change of topic, Pia nodded almost purely out of instinct. The shift in the conversation, away from the topics she most wanted to learn about, was disappointing, yet also a relief. Everything she learned felt like an overload. Mow being the one to fail her in Dwelling. Ruwe possibly abandoning her. Mow being the Sect Leader. Mow also being Ruwe’s Master. Her brain felt overwhelmed with things to think about.
A knock came at the door, startling Pia out of her thoughts.
Before Mow could give his permission to enter, Haojie popped in with a sheepish grin.
“Ah, Pia, I see you’re doing well,” he said, ambling over to her as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
Arms crossing in front of her, Pia said, “I heard you almost killed me.” Giving him a baleful look, she tried to hold back a smile. It was hard to ever be in a bad mood around Haojie.
With a charming grin Haojie wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving her a squeeze.
“Nonsense. That sounds like the kind of character defamation only Yijun would come up with.”
Mow cleared his throat, saying, “I distinctly remember the ‘Help, Yijun, someone help, I think I’ve killed her. Ruwe’s going to disembowel me,’ cries you bellowed across the pavilion.”
Cheeks flushing the slightest hint of pink, Haojie tugged Pia into a turn, pulling her towards the table.
“Character assassination, Pia. That is what is happening right now. Don’t believe a word!”
Entering the room, Yijun bowed politely to Mow.
“I’d apologize for his idiocy, but it’s been a lifelong, incurable disease for which I’ve found no aid,” he said over his clasped hands.
A startled laugh slipped from Pia and Haojie scowled, pushing her away. Throwing himself down in one of the ground seats, Haojie crossed his arms, tossing his hair over his shoulder.
“You’re turning our child against me,” he accused to Yijun. “There’s no filial piety here.”
With a scoff, Yijun said, “It’ll be a sorrowful day when the land is cursed with the birth of your offspring.”
Though she grinned, Pia felt a zing of pain strike her core. It was a kneejerk instinct of her heart to clench at the mention of family. Something she'd lacked since birth. Her smile dimmed, lips turning downward.
Mow and Yijun joined Haojie at the table and Pia hurried to sit too, not wanting to be the odd man out.
“Pia was just telling me about her training regime. How goes it with the Demon Pillars, today’s mishap aside?”
And that easily, Mow steered the conversation into a lighthearted topic. Pia listened, feeling her energy drain from her as they talked.
Yijun was speaking about the exercises they covered and how well she picked up archery. A bold lie, she thought sleepily. The praise he spoke made her smile, which broke into a yawn that she hastily hid. Haojie interjected with funny anecdotes that made Mow and Yijun both laugh softly. It occurred to Pia, that they were having the discussion for her to make her feel included. The thought brought mixed emotions.
Stolen story; please report.
On one hand, she appreciated the gesture. Mow being the Sect Leader, and her Grandmaster? Meant he didn’t have to give her any time of day. Refusing to think of her earlier outburst, Pia pushed those thoughts down and away. Yijun and Haojie, likely feeling bad about her head injury, were flexing the line Ruwe drew between her and the sect.
Yet, it also reminded her of how little she knew about any of it. It soured the warm glow she’d felt, curdling like vinegar in milk.
Her attention returned to their conversation to hear Mow say, “Send Ruwe a letter,” though she’d missed the first part.
Straightening up, Pia remembered a thought she’d had the previous night. Looking at the three men’s faces, she decided to speak up when there was a lull in their chat.
“About letters…” Pia said, hesitantly.
The three looked at her curiously.
“My friends and I promised to write one another…” she paused, still embarrassed to admit her previous lie. “As you know, I told them I’d be in Fengye with the Yinye sect. Is there any way that I could write them a letter without letting them I’m not in Fengye?” She quickly brought her hands up defensively, adding, “Not to continue the lie, but I don’t want to worry them during their apprenticeships.”
Haojie patted her on her knee comfortingly and she gave him a small smile in gratitude. It wasn’t only embarrassing to have lied. The shame and guilt ate at her.
“Ah, yes, I remember. No need to worry. I handled it. A dear friend of mine lives in Yingye. When you left Dwelling, I sent him a message asking him to step in should your cover story be questioned.”
A lump formed in her throat at that. She hadn’t forgiven Mow, maybe she never would, but that small act of protection sent waves of gratitude coursing through her.
“If you have letters to send, pass them to these two and I’ll get them sent,” Mow said, waving his hand to indicate it was no trouble. “I have contacts in Dishi and Yanhua.…”
Pia’s eyes narrowed at that. How did he know which sects Conch and Fewl were in? But she didn’t interrupt him.
“Don’t worry if there aren’t any letters that come. Not all, but many sects hold their apprentices’ mail to keep them from being distracted. As far as I recall, Dishi and Yanhua might hold for the first year, but it’s been sometime since I’ve visited.”
Pressing her palm to her fist, Pia bowed in her seat, saying, “Thank you.” A weight she’d been carrying for months lifted from her shoulders.
“I’ll send a message to my contacts in Dishi and Yanhua. Now, how about a meal?”
They ate dinner together, long into the night. Pia sipped sleepily at her tea while the men drank wine and told her stories about Chean.
“Once there was a general,” Mow said, leaning forward in his chair, eyes glittering in the dim light. Their eyes were locked on him, and he enjoyed their rapt attention. “A mighty, undefeated general, who many said could never be defeated in battle. Alas,” Mow cried theatrically, “such a day arrived. On the southern plateau an army of thirty-thousand strong marched to meet this general and his army of ten thousand…”
He paused, to let the tension linger in the air. Tossing up his hand Mow let loose a spray of light, sparkling like fireflies in the air.
“Those ten thousand stood their ground for three days, until the last man, the general, was left standing alone, surrounded by the bodies of his loyal men. The enemy general demanded that he bow his head in defeat. Yet, to the shock of all, our brave general turned and retreated!” Mow said, ending with a loud gasp of shock.
Pia’s lips quirked upward.
“The general, broken hearted and spiritually shattered, climbed hand over hand up the mountain face. At the top, he buried his sword into the ground, and shouted out to the heavens, ‘For my brothers!’ and then in despair, turned to throw himself from the cliff….” He trailed off, voice dropping into a low, solemn tone.
He let the tension simmer, until even Pia wanted to demand him to continue.
“But!” he said loudly, startling Pia at the sudden transition. “Behind him stood a godly figure, whose heart had been moved by the bravery of the general. The godly figure lowered its head, giving the general’s head a loving kiss…”
Haojie let out a loud, “Oooh” and Pia knocked her knee against his leg in irritation. He grinned but quieted.
Speaking louder, as if he hadn’t been interrupted, Mow continued, “The general was broken from his despair and met eyes with this godly figure, who said, ‘I will carry you into battle. My horns shall be your vengeance, my feet your swift victory.’ Rising to his feet, our general pulled his sword from the earth and clambered upon the god’s shoulders…”
Pia saw Yijun’s lips twitch, and her brow knit together in confusion. Something about the wording seemed off.
Voice picking up with excitement, Mow continued, “And so! Our brave general and the god charged down the mountain. The earth rattled as if the demon realm had broken free and invaded the lands. The remaining soldiers of the enemy trembled in their boots! A cloud of dust grew, until it appeared a violent storm was brewing…Until, at last! The general and the god burst from the dust and bolted straight at the enemy!”
Mow sent another shot of yi into the air, showering them with bright reds, oranges, and yellows.
“The enemy faltered, believing our general to be no man, but some fearsome, shadowy demon set loose. ‘The horns! The blazing eyes!’ They cried out in horror, as our general and his godly figure set upon them. ‘What trickery,’ shrieked the enemy, for our general had had no steed left standing, and in the dusty air, their eyes saw only horns and blazing yellow eyes…”
Once more, Mow paused, and all three leaned toward him, hanging on his every word.
“Then their eyes cleared and saw before them, our brave general riding, not the ‘fearsome, shadowy demon’ they’d perceived, but instead…” Mow paused, yet again, voice trailing off, building anticipation in his listeners.
His eyes practically twinkled as he shouted loudly, “on a plain, brown ox!”
Stunned, Pia stared at Mow as he once more launched bright streaks of colorful yi through the air, while Haojie and Yijun broke into laughter.
“Victory was his that day, atop his valiant, brown ox becoming an epic legend, of General Niu and his godly figure.”
She laughed then, shaking her head. Was it the wine or the company that made grown men into silly boys?
As Mow’s storytelling continued, Pia leaned her shoulder against Haojie and listened until drowsiness dragged her lids downward, and sleep slid between the lines and carted her away.
The cool air of the night roused her from her slumber and Pia’s eyes drifted open. Her head rested on a shoulder and someone’s hair clung to her lips. Blinking in the dim light Pia made out the side of Haojie’s face, and realized he was carrying her on his back.
“Where’re we goin?” she mumbled, still half asleep.
“Taking you back to Cangzhi,” Haojie said.
Her eyes slid half closed as his slow, steady walk lulled her back toward sleep. In that half-awake state Pia’s lips felt oddly loose.
“Thank you for catching me today. Even if you did almost poison me,” she whispered.
“Thanks for not dying,” he replied, and Pia grinned against his shoulder.
All in all, the day had been interesting, was her last thought for that night.
The morning came too quickly, and Pia rose feeling groggy and heavy. Not wanting to slack off, she pushed herself through her stretches, and then onto her run. Her head felt better, but a slight tenderness lingered. All her muscles ached from the training, so it blended right into the mix.
Pia met Haojie and Yijun at the training yard, and they went through the exercises again. At least there was no rain, only the mud to fight against. They started with climbing the rope wall, and then went down the rope ladder.
“No logs for a few days, until your head is fully healed,” Yijun told her when she asked about doing the southern side of the tower.
To make up for the change, Pia did the rope ladder going up and down, and the rope climb and the rappel twice. It made her aware of how weak her upper body was. Hardly any time passed before her arms shook and muscles screamed. In contrast, her legs held up much longer.
When she asked Haojie about it, at the top of the tower as they took a break, he said, “It’s because you’ve always been a runner. You’ve got strong legs and a strong core, but those chicken wings.” To emphasize, Haojie clucked his tongue until they descended.
Yijun took her for archery lessons after that.
“Pull the string to your lip,” he corrected her hand, “not on your lip,” and then he corrected her elbow, “not so far back.”
Pia still missed four out of ten shots. Sighing, she went to collect the arrows.
“How many times do I have to practice until I get good?” she asked when she returned to Yijun.
Sitting on a wooden bucket, hands braced against his knees, Yijun relaxed while she practiced.
“About a million?”
She sighed again and brought the bow up. The arrow, as always, trembled as her arms shook. In time, she thought, I just need time.
Pia practiced with the bow until she felt as if her arms would fall off. Casting looks at Yijun, she kept hoping he’d relent and release her for the day. Finally, after her twentieth time of gathering arrows, he did.
“Instead of sparring, we’re going to practice with staffs,” he told her.
Yijun led her to a wooden box a few li away, where the ground had been dried of snow revealing a sandy ring. He pulled two wooden staffs from the box, tossing her one, and then walked into the sand.
Curious, Pia followed him. The sand was hot! Surprised, Pia jumped from the ring, back to the cold, half-frozen, half-soggy ground.
How was Yijun standing there so calmly?!
“First trick to the ring: you’ll need practice drawing wind or water yi between your feet and the ground,” Yijun told her.
“How do I do that?”
“Focus on where your body touches the ground. For now, it’s your feet, but this could also be any part of your body. Between your natural yi and wild yi there is always a slight edge. You know the feel?” he asked.
Pia nodded, and he continued.
“Between that edge, imagine pushing a constant, thin stream of yi. Imagine it like a slow bleed, or how wind passes through your lips to whistle. Not so much,” Yijun corrected, seeing the lines of yi swell towards her. “Better,” he praised when it smoothed out into a thin line.
“Now maintain that and come into the ring.”
It surprised her that it wasn’t that difficult. The edge between her yi and wild yi always felt like a thin screen. It was there, but malleable beneath her touch. Not that it had always been. Memories of straining so hard that her veins felt soon to explode, face straining until tears and sweat poured from her face, all while she tried desperately to feel for yi. As a child, Pia had often feared she never would.
Stepping into the ring, Pia quickly realized it would be difficult. Her wind yi buffer pushed away the worst of the heat, but the sand was deep and heavy. One step forward while maintaining her buffer felt like trudging through a river, carrying a basket of rocks, while trying to paint.
By the time she reached the center sweat beaded Pia’s brow from the effort. Yijun gave her a knowing smile and raised his staff.
“Let’s begin with the strikes.”
Begin with…Pia wondered if they secretly meant to kill her with training.