"You shouldn't be here," the man said as soon as he saw her.
"You said that last time," she reminded him.
They were standing on the Guiyan beach. The waves frothed and spat, roiling furiously. She breathed in the scent of salty decay that the sea held, wondering what made it that way. To her eye, there was no end to the sea, no glimpse of the depth of the seething water.
It surprised, no, confused her, to be here. Was she awake? Or was she sleeping? It felt as real as Divine Ascent had. Wind biting at her face, the sea roaring in her ears. The cloying smell of the sea filled her nose, somehow both foreign and familiar. The wind curled across her shoulders, tugging at her hair, as if saying, hello friend, play with me.
Beside her, the man stood at ease as the breeze poured over him, unworried about the approaching tide that neared their feet.
"You have a strong mind for someone untrained," he remarked. "The Abyss takes shape for you in a way that even the skilled struggle to manage."
A curious tidbit, but Pia refused to be led away from her thoughts.
“Who are you?” she asked bluntly.
The man laughed and his head turned to face her. The wind off the sea snatched his hair, flapped the ribbon that tied his hair back. His eyes were so brown, nearly black. His gaze held her captive like a cricket in a box. But, she didn’t back down. It was her dream, after all, why should she yield?
“I have many names,” he said vaguely, irritating her with his little half smile.
“I have a few for you,” she muttered.
“Pish,” he said, but there was humor in his voice. “My name is of no importance. Is that the question you truly seek?”
What did that mean? Her brow furrowed as she crossed her arms. The tide rolled in, crashing into white foam near their feet. She edged a step away, not wanting it to touch her.
“It’d be nice to have a name for the Sage taking over my dreams.”
He chuckled again as if her words amused him.
“A sage, hmm,” he said, rolling the word across his tongue. “If it pleases you, you may call me Sage of the Abyss.”
That’s as made up as any a name might be, she thought, frustrated by his side-step. Her eyes narrowed but she stayed her tongue. Point one for ‘the Sage of the Abyss.’ It didn’t mean her other questions had to go unanswered.
A trailing wave rolled up the beach, dousing the Sage’s feet. Feeling like a scuttling crab, Pia quickly darted away from its long reach. Only once it retreated did she return to the Sage’s side, ignoring his amusement at her expense.
“Okay…” she said, accepting his refusal to answer. “You’re right. I do have another question. Do I have shaman blood?"
It felt as silly as asking Right-Eye if he played the flute for her. More so because Pia knew it was only a dream—a manifestation of her thoughts. How would a dream sage have answers that even she did not? As if he heard her thoughts, the Sage said:
"What makes you think I know the answer if you don't?"
The question was so similar to Pia’s own thoughts it convinced her it truly was just a dream, but it didn’t deter her from replying.
"You suggested the idea to me first. It gives belief to the idea that you know something of me that I do not."
"Fair retort!” he praised her, and his eyes sparkled. “I'll say this: there are two ways a shaman comes to be. A daughter is born of a shaman, carrying her blood and ability. The second is when a child dies at birth, and she is given a second breath of life."
Well, that was interesting, but Pia didn't know which of those could apply. A vein in her temple pulsed with frustration. She squeezed the bridge of her nose, feeling that same irritation unfurl in her chest. Never a straight answer from anyone. A bitter near cough of a laugh escaped her lips. Tilting back her head, she stared up at the dark sky. Why would her dreams be any cleared than her murky day to day? It feels as always, like I just flit from place to place on the whims of others. She pushed that thought aside, hating the way it sparked the anger within her.
Focus, she told herself with irritation. What do I know that about shamans? Her mind whirred, trying to recall the books she’d read on the topic. Nothing more than the minimum came to mind.
Her hand fell from her face as she turned back to the Sage. "Can someone not be a shaman, seer, or sage and still find their way here?"
He laughed again.
"Are you a goddess, child?"
Pia felt her lips twitch upward against her will. Of that she was certain, at least
"No,” she admitted. “So, how would I find out if I have a shaman mother or if I died at birth?"
"There are tests one can do to track their heritage. A lot of noble and honorable families use them for inheritance. Of course, they require a presumed relative. Shamans can find their answers through the spirits, though."
Her ears caught the slight hint of derision he used when saying ‘noble and honorable.’ It didn’t surprise her that the Sage of her dreams held the same feelings she possessed for those same families.
Disappointment grew as she considered his words. "To find out whether I could be something, I'd have to first either find or become the thing I'm trying to find out whether I am."
The man winced at that statement as if it offended his ears.
"Of course, both and neither could be true. There are always firsts for everything," he acknowledged, cupping his hands together and shaking them at the sky. The comical praise to the heavens made her smile.
"What happened to 'nothing ever changes?'" she teased, remembering the conversation the previous day.
His eyes slid to her, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
"Impertinent brat," he scolded. "Questioning your elders."
The sea waves crashed against the sand, leaving behind long fingers of green seaweed. Pia’s eyes were on the horizon where a red line of sun slowly began to split the night sky and the vastness of the ocean. It was curious how the sky reflected the passing of time. Had that ever happened in her other dreams?
“Say, Sage of the Abyss,” she said, watching as the tide rolled in again, whisking the seaweed back into the sea. A bit of the wave soaked through her boot, and she frowned. She’d been too focused on her thoughts to avoid it. “You say the Abyss changes for me? But last night and today, these are real places. What does it normally look like?”
She didn’t believe she was really in the Abyss, but she was curious what he might say.
He chuckled again, hearing her dubiousness in her tone.
“Let me show you something,” he said.
He reached out and grabbed her hand, flipping it over so her palm was up. With one finger he traced a rune on her palm. It was red and yellow, and inverted. Her brows rose with amazement. It combined both si and yi in a single rune. She didn’t even know that was possible.
Before she could ask a question, he curled her hand into a fist, activating it.
“Breathe,” he said softly, and his hands reached out to catch her as her legs gave out. “Let it show you what it can be,” he instructed. The last thing she saw before her eyes slid closed was his face, those timeless eyes reflecting the blue of the sea. No, his eyes are blue, she thought hazily. In a distant part of her mind, she realized he was guiding her fall towards the sea water. If she’d had the mind to panic, she would’ve. But darkness seized her.
She was standing deep in the tide, waves crashing around her body. Someone was screaming. No, she was screaming. Her throat was raw. Salt burned her eyes, poured down her throat.
Azure blue eyes pierced through her soul, claws that gripped her heart and squeezed. Her legs trembled from the pain. Hands grabbed at her, her arms, her shoulders, her waist, anchoring her in place. No matter which direction she looked her terrified brown eyes met hundreds of eerily bright blue gazes
“Look,” they said, hands jerkin her head to the side, looking down the beach front. Black ants scurried toward her. Not ants, she realized.
She could see them clearly as if she were flying before them. A group of riders dressed all in black were galloping down the beach front. They were masked, hiding their features. A feeling of dread seized her heart. These were not good men, she thought. Were they thieves? Sellswords? Mercenaries? They rode with weapons and determination. Their horses were fresh and fast, covering ground with ease. Her heart thundered with new fear.
She was back in the water, feeling those hands shove her down, barely able to keep her head above the waves. All that she was, was a puppet to be jerked around. A fight was happening on the beach. Red blood flicked from blades as Buzhi, Right-Eye, and Pia fought back. Then, Buzhi fell, a sword slicing across his throat. Pia, on the beach, stumbled back as a man wielding a dagger leapt toward her. Right-Eye got between them, blocking the dagger. An arrow pierced straight through Right-Eye’s chest. And then another, and another. Pia, on the beach, screamed in rage and sorrow, leaping to her feet. Her sword flew side to side, hacking wildly as she sobbed. She was surrounded. Her sword was knocked away from her. A dagger loomed in her eye…
Again, she was yanked down into the sea. The water poured over her head, pushing her down into its depths. “Do you see?” they asked her. “Will you listen?” they demanded, fingers curling sharply into her skin. Pia gasped and water slid down her throat, drowning her.
"Child," the Sage in the Abyss demanded, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. "Wake!" The sudden urgency in his voice scared her, setting her heart to tripping over itself.
She woke, heart still racing, to find herself waist-deep in the sea. Disoriented, she couldn’t understand. Was she still sleeping? Why was she in the water?
Seconds later, a wave crashed into her chest, pushing her further away from land. The water was all around her, grabbing and tugging, pushing and shoving. It felt like those impossibly strong hands. Something slimy brushed against her hand. Startling, Pia jolted away inadvertently stepping further into the sea. It seemed to laugh around her, winding between her legs with the force of cruel nature. She stumbled forward, nearly falling. The booming laugh of the water jarred her bones as it slammed into her. The incredible power stunned her.
“Get it together!” she hissed aloud, angry with herself. Her heart wouldn’t slow and the coldness of the water cut through her, making her slow and stupid.
Grasping for earth yi she felt the slight response from the sand. It felt brittle and vague, but it was enough to pull on, to brace her legs against the waves. Her eyes scanned the beach, looking for Buzhi, for Right-Eye, for the Sage, anything to help make sense of what was going on.
Between the fatigue and the fear, her eyes saw nothing but darkness. Then! Her eyes focused, seeing a dark shadow, a man on the edge of the sea. At first, Pia thought it was the cryptic man in her dreams, and her hopes stirred. I’m still dreaming, she thought with relief. All would be fine when she woke, if so. But another wave broke against her back knocking her to her hands and knees. Over her head the wave laughed. She choked, coughed, gasped for hair. It hit with the horse of a battering ram!
With effort she got back on her feet, pulling harder on the earth yi to hold herself. The sea whirled around her trying to loosen her hold, to steal her away from land. She shook her head, scattering salt water from her face, and strained to make out the figure on the beach. If she could just get their attention. She wasn’t that far from the shoreline.
But the longer she stared, fighting against the power of the sea, the more she realized the figure was no one she knew. He was too short to be Buzhi or Right-Eye, too broad to be the Sage of her dreams. Fresh fear gripped her heart. Who was that man? Her arms flailed in the sea, trying to keep herself balanced as her mind raced.
The man on the beach turned, looking down the beach front. Her eyes followed his movement, and the beating of her heart increased until it felt as if frantic war drums pounded her ears and chest. Even as she bobbed in the water, she saw the figures riding toward them. It was just like in her dream!
Pia sucked in a deep breath, and yelled, “Buzhi!” The sea swallowed it, as it tried to do to her. Fury cut through her fear as another wave battered at her. “Leave me alone!” she hissed at it, smacking her hand against the water. It did nothing to the sea, but her resolve strengthened.
“Think! Don’t panic!” she said to herself. The man on the beach hadn’t moved. He slouched with arms crossed, watching the riders approach. Don’t think about him, she told herself. What can I do? She breathed out slowly, trying to gather her wits. Her eyes went wide. Idiot! She cursed herself, for forgetting the basics.
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She closed her eyes, focusing on taking deep, even breaths. When her heart calmed, she sucked in one deep breath, and on her next yell, she pushed all the wind yi behind it that she could.
“Liu Buzhi!”
It blasted from her like an explosion. The water in front of her was knocked away from her, as the wind blasted across the surface. Even the strange figured on the beach reeled back a step as it passed over him.
It worked! Buzhi and Right-Eye came at a run. Pia almost sobbed in relief. Buzhi’s Threaded Dagger darted ahead of him, aiming for her, while Right-Eye got between the sea and the strange man.
Buzhi’s Threaded Dagger wrapped around her waist and hauled her from the sea. The water refused to part easily, and she was forced to fight her way from its grasp. There was no relief of being saved. When she felt wet sand beneath her palms, Pia gasped for air from lungs that burned. A quake rocked her body, adrenaline, fear, and cold vying for control of her body. A vibration in the air sparked and crackled. Looking up, she met Buzhi's fierce stare and trembled.
“Riders,” she croaked, pointing down the beach.
“What in the hells,” he cursed angrily, face set in a confused snarl. “What were you doing in the sea you fool? Where’s your sword!?”
She shook her head, trying to force her body to stop shaking. He cursed again.
“Go get your sword!” he yelled at her, and turned, putting himself between her and the others.
The thrumming of energy swelled as the riders grew nearer. Yi sparked across the beach, and even the sea behind her seemed to thrum with fierce fervor.
Though she felt as if she’d rattle apart if she moved, Pia scrambled to her legs, desperate for her sword. The sand slowed her, tripping her feet so that she stumbled and fell. She scurried on, pushing herself off her hands and knees, back to her feet. Her sodden robes were heavy and cumbersome, and the cool snap of wind chilled her soaked frame. Her hands and feet felt made of wood, but she raced as fast as she could to their camp.
Only once she reached the camp did she spare a glance back. The strange man had turned to face Right-Eye and Buzhi and pulled his weapon, a dull orange colored blade that curved slightly backward like a sickle. Buzhi still held his Threaded Dagger, though it was still and waiting. Right-Eye’s broad sword was held out before him defensively.
They’re just standing there! Pia thought furiously. Are they talking? Will they fight? She wondered.
Even over the sounds of the sea, the approaching group of riders grew louder and clearer. Her breath felt ragged, her mind was a mess. What was going on? Am I still dreaming? There was no making sense of it. Tearing her gaze away, her eyes scanned their camp for her sword. It sat on the dry sand where she’d slept. She snatched it up and pulled it from its sheath. Without thinking, she dropped the sheath and turned, bolting back toward Buzhi and Right-Eye. In her mind, she couldn’t help but think, what am I doing? I can’t keep up with them!
When she thought back to that night in the future, Pia could never recall how the fight started. Had Right-Eye attacked first? Or had the stranger attacked and Buzhi defended? Whichever it was, the fight erupted into vibrant slashes and harsh, screeching sounds. The strange man more than capable of taking both on at the same time.
Right-Eye's broad sword flashed and wailed through the air. It was twice as haunting as any song he'd sung or played. Each slice and cut seemed to let loose discordant notes that struck fear into her heart. The notes were all wrong. The sounds were horrendous, and she wanted to clap her hands over her ears and force it away.
Faced with her first real fight, she was horrified. Her feet jolted to a stop, freezing in place as she watched the three trade blows. Liu Buzhi's Threaded Dagger spun and weaved, jerking wildly around like a puppet for the expert master. Right-Eye’s sword movements were like a dance to a rhythm of a song that played only for him. A twirling parry followed by a two-step attack. A lunge into a defensive counter. Pia’s eyes couldn’t keep up with their speed.
Then, the riders were on top of them, and Pia's attention shifted quickly. She counted eight—four in the front and four fanning out in a line The four in the front leapt from their horses as they neared, landing easily on their feet and dashing forward. It took three rapid heartbeats for her to realize they were aiming for her!
Heart in throat, Pia's hand around her sword trembled, knees almost knocking together in anticipation and fear. Be calm, she tried to tell herself, but her resolve shook as reality faced her.
The first attacker who reached her wielded a thick blade that struck hers with the jarring force of a hammer. Immediately he was unrelenting. Strike, strike, strike. The tip of her blade sliced up, catching the tip of his and pushing it aside. The grip of her sword felt sweaty. Don’t lose your grip! She berated herself.
Unrelentingly, the attacker spun and attacked with a high overhand slice. Somehow, her sword blocked it, both hands needing to grip the hilt. The blades rattled as fear made her weak. Her arms shook with terror.
I’m going to lose! She thought desperately. I’m outmatched and alone. Cold sweat poured down her back. Gritting her teeth, she tried to push him off, to put distance between them. Her heart skipped a beat as he pressed forward, and she tripped backward in her haste to hold. Stupid! He was much stronger than her. His face was covered by a mask, but she saw the way his eyes crinkled with amusement, thinking her foolish.
That cruel amusement made her angry. The hot flush of rage cooled her fear and her arm strengthened. How dare he, she thought furiously. With anger flooding her body her shakes lessened, and her mind cleared. This is just like practice, she told herself. Stop being an idiot!
Using the momentum of her trip, she leaned back and kicked at the sand, pushing herself away with wind yi. It came easily to her, almost chiding in its bite at her, as if saying, how could you forget me? It brought a grim smile to her face. “I know, I’m sorry,” she whispered to it, feeling calmed by its reassuring presence. Later she would scold herself for losing her head. Master Ruwe would’ve beaten her with the bamboo switch from head to toe for her mistake.
The distance gave her time to reposition and bring her sword up at an angle, countering his next lunge. He pulled back a few paces, as if surprised by her sudden confidence. She took advantage of the situation. Sliding her thumb across the sine of her sword she activated one of her talismans.
"Even if the enemy is faster and stronger, you can still be smarter," Master Ruwe had always told her. Let’s hope he was right, she thought.
Tucking her arm across her chest, Pia ran forward, bringing her sword upward in a wide arc over her left shoulder as if prepping for an attacking swing. Once more, the attacker seemed to laugh behind his mask at what looked to be a novice mistake by her. Lazily he brought up his sword, thinking he’d easily block her obvious move.
Pia came to a sudden halt and threw her sword, putting all the force of her movement and wind yi that her talisman allowed into her throw. Her sword shot through the air at blinding speed, sliding between the man's delayed defense and right into his chest.
Pia and the man were equally stunned. The man looked at his chest as if he couldn't believe what he saw. Neither could she. When he collapsed to his knees, a sick feeling grew in her belly, clawing up her throat, and she feared she'd vomit on the spot. But she had no time; another was coming.
Quickly, she jumped forward and grabbed her blade, intending to pull it free from his body. The man's hand clasped it tight, and he let out pained gurgles as she tugged on it. With no time to waste, Pia put one foot on the man's shoulder and yanked. Blood sprayed across the sand, and even in the darkness of night, the stain it left was evident. Bile burned her throat, but she swallowed it down.
A dagger thrust toward her face, and Pia countered with her forearm, using a wind talisman to blast the dagger away. She gasped, feeling the skin of her forearm cut open. It burned and she hissed loudly. Instinct told her to grab her arm, feel for the damage. But another person attacked from behind, a long-bladed dagger aiming for her ribs. She twisted her sword behind, barely able to block it, it sliced across her ribs and she stumbled away, trying to distance herself from the two attackers.
They attacked in unison, and her anger once more took over. Fueled by the pain in her arm and ribs, Pia’s rage felt red hot. This was all so unnecessary! Who are you? Why are you attacking us? Are Buzhi and Right-Eye okay? These thoughts fell into place like rocks on wood, clink clink clink, and each one fueling her rage.
The angrier she got, the calmer she felt. Anger warmed her blood and muscles yet cooled her mind until all she could see was the next movement.
The attacker who aimed for her face came for her again. His dagger was jagged and twisted, a cruel blade intended to inflict pain. Block, lock, strike, she thought.
Her sword blocked the dagger at the hilt, her left hand grabbed the man's forearm locking it in place, and then Pia twisted her blade, striking it at the man's neck. It met soft resistance and neatly split the skin. Hot, salty blood sprayed her face. It stank of metal and salted meat, a smell she'd never forget, but Pia couldn't stop. Couldn't think of grief or sorrow or regret. Only what was next.
The second attacker, seeing her locked in place, took his chance. He threw a dagger; no, not a dagger, she realized, throwing stars. One landed, sinking into the flesh between her shoulder and neck. It burned, ached, and felt raw and agonizing. Her whole left arm felt weak from forearm to shoulder, but she pushed the pain away, forcing it to the back of her mind.
Still grasping the man, Pia spun and used him as a shield. The second and third knives sank into her man-shield's back. If his soul hadn't already fled his body, he'd undoubtedly have screamed. A curse escaped the other attacker.
Pushing the man away from her wasted precious time, which the second attacker took advantage of. The attacker grasped a long-bladed dagger and held it with the sharp side pointing downward. His slashes were swift and agile, and he pressed her further back towards the sea. The speed and ferocity of his attacks and the depth of the sand began to wear her down. The throwing star in her shoulder burned, and she feared it'd been poisoned.
The attacker aimed for her left shoulder and Pia’s right hand shook as she blocked it. Every fiber of her being strained to keep up with the speed of attacks. She wobbled to block and the dagger scored another slice on her left arm. It almost drove her to her knees. Clenching her jaw, Pia pulled at wind yi, using it as a buffer between her and the ground.
It worked and she stayed on her feet. The attacker gave her no chance to recover though. Stab, slice, jab, it went on and on. Soon, Pia needed both hands on the hilt to balance her blade. Curse the weighted grip! She bemoaned, as the weight of her sword made her hand numb. But anger pushed her on. Curse this man!
Yet, after another series of rapid-fire attacks, Pia began recognizing patterns. This attacker relied solely on speed and stamina. There wasn't as much power behind the blows as the first two. It wasn't a man. It occurred to her as the attacker aimed a backhand attack at her upper ribs, getting in close to Pia's eyes. The frame was leaner, and the eyes too feminine. She was certain it was a female martial artist.
She activated one of the talismans on her blade and blasted the woman with a wave of wind yi. The woman staggered back, giving Pia a second to gasp in desperate gulps of air. Her heart pounded from exertion. She wouldn’t last much longer. Not taking her eyes off of the woman, her ears caught sounds of Right-Eye and Buzhi’s fight. Relief filled her heart as she realized both were still fighting strong.
Taking in a last breath, Pia purposefully wilted her sword, giving the woman an opening, and waited for her to strike. The woman, believing Pia weak with fatigue, quickly took advantage of the lowered guard. The woman continued her attack pattern, lunging forward with her long dagger. Just as the dagger neared her sword, Pia dropped and spun on her knees, driving her sword overhead, angling it sideways at the woman’s breast section. The woman cried out as it pierced her chest. Pia surged to her feet, driving it up and through. She didn’t let herself think about how easy it felt to cut through skin, muscle, and organ. Her sword slid between the fourth and fifth ribs, finding her heart. The woman gasped, and her hand clutched Pia's sword, just as the first man had.
"Bastard child," the woman cursed as she collapsed.
As she pulled the blade free, Pia felt numb. Sick and numb. She'd just killed three people for what? The sea seemed to scream both their rages to the skies. On weak knees, Pia scanned for another attacker to come. But no more came. She panted, feeling more ready to collapse than fight anyone else.
Looking down the beach she realized she’d been pushed a few li from the fighting trio. The last attacker who’d jumped his horse had stopped near the four who'd remained on their horses. Pia hoped she’d given him reason to caution coming after her. But, she knew that if he attacked, she’d likely lose. The remaining five formed a half circle around Buzhi and Right-Eye’s fight. Staying out of the fight, waiting to see how it went.
Weariness and pain caused her to stumble as she made her way toward Right-Eye and Buzhi. It was stupid to approach. I’m no help uninjured, but injured I’m just a liability, she reminded herself. Her left arm seemed to have its own pulse, throbbing in pain that sent cold sweats across her whole body. Her fingers went to her shoulder where the throwing star still remained. Wincing, she had to force the bile back down her throat from the pain. Blood coated her fingers. She wanted to pull it but knew better. It could bleed worse, leaving her passed out and defenseless.
As she approached Buzhi and Right-Eye, her foot caught in the sand. Only plunging her sword down saved her from falling. She strangled the scream that rose in her throat. Her shoulder blazed and her vision dimmed. Don’t pass out! She bit her cheek hard, till it split and filled her mouth with blood. Leaning on her sword, she panted, trying to keep herself awake. The pain helped and the feeling passed.
She eyed the men warily; afraid they’d take advantage of her weakness. But their eyes were locked on the fight. It gave her a moment to observe them. All of them were in black, riding black horses. Clearly, they wished to hide their identities. And they didn’t attack the stranger. Was he their leader? A friend? Who were these people? Where had he come from? She shook her head, trying to focus.
There were no answers she could think up. Another thought filled her with more confusion. Could this be a dream? Look, seemed to echo in her ears. I’m looking, she thought furiously, and I hate every bit of it! Her emotions crashed around her. Anger, fear, confusion, helplessness, hurt. Exhaustion.
Under her hands, the sword hummed with yi, and she looked down. Through the middle of the blade, a bright red streak of light oozed down the length of steel. Any other time, she'd feel excited, thrilled at the first sight of her blade responding to her will. But it made her gag, stomach heaving in disgust. It looked like blood and death. Only instinct kept her hand gripping the hilt when she longed to toss it far from her. I don’t want that, she thought desperately.
Right-Eye's sword gave a shrill whine, and her eyes darted back to the fight. The Threaded Dagger darted directly at the stranger, glowing red with si runes. Right-Eye's sword sliced sharply at an angle, and a hissing yowl erupted as a blast landed at Buzhi's feet. The stranger had dodged, putting Buzhi in the direct line of attack.
“Watch it, old friend,” Buzhi called out.
Right-Eye replied with a grunt, rearranging his grip on his sword.
Spiritual power crackled in the air, life and death, meeting with a violent passion. There was no yield here, only a desire to take. Consumed in the fight, Pia almost missed the movement to the right. It was the darkening of a shadow, a blur of motion from the corner of her eye.
One of the riders held a bow at the ready, pulled to his shoulder with the arrow resting at firing position. Pia's eyes followed the angle to Right-Eye. Though it felt as if her heart stopped, her body sprang to action. Her dream came to her mind, and she panicked.
"Right-Eye!" she screamed, bolting forward.
So worried, panicked, terrified for the man, she didn't think. Anger had held her steady but fear made her a fool.
Right-Eye, distracted by her cry, flipped away from the fight, eyes turning to Pia, then to where she was running. The rider, having heard her warning, changed his target, aiming for her. Again, Pia would never be able to say precisely what happened next. A blur in the air, the rush of wind, a pain around her waist.
Then, Right-Eye was attacking the rider, his sword shredding through the man's arm. Buzhi's Threaded Dagger pulling her to him. He flung her to the sand behind him, flicking the blade away from her. Her left shoulder hit the ground first, and she screamed into the sand as the throwing star cut deeper into her flesh. The sounds of fighting commenced but Pia could only lie there in the sand, as pain pulsed through her. The edges of her vision dimmed as consciousness faded. No, she thought desperately. I can’t pass out!
The tide crashed over her, dousing her in cold water. It roused her as much as it chilled her to the bone. She blinked, then again, until her mind stirred. Somehow, in all of that, her sword remained in her hand. The tide poured over her again, stinging against her cuts, wiping her sword clean. The pain gave her the extra push needed to sit up. Upright, everything spun. Once more she had to brace on her sword to give her strength.
The men on horseback had dismounted, fighting Right-Eye on foot, while Buzhi and the stranger continued their fight. Buzhi carefully keeping the stranger from getting close to her. The rising tide poured over her legs making her shiver from the coldness of the water against her hot skin. As her anger fled, the coldness returned.
Buzhi, alone, had no time to pause. The man seemed twice as fast, twice as ruthless.
The Threaded Dagger went flying, and then Buzhi rolled away as the man’s sword cut between him and the weapon. Buzhi landed with a grunt, holding only the rope end of the Threaded Dagger. He was weaponless! Pia’s heart hammered with terror. She remembered her dream, how Buzhi’s throat had been slit.
“Making me go this far,” Buzhi complained.
He flicked his left wrist, and a massive red blade oozing si energy came into view. It was vibrant in the night sky, so distracting that Pia couldn’t look away. Couldn’t even turn to check on Right-Eye.