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2.5 Fire for the Spirit

5 – Fire for the Spirit

The following day, despite the many beers he drank, Ward woke feeling very rested, with a clear head and a calf that was stiff and tender to the touch but fine to walk on. Haley was a different story; the good cheer from the night before was gone, and in its place was a grave, solemn expression. When Ward tried some friendly prodding to get a smile out of her, she only looked away and muttered something which Ward only caught the tail end of, “…as the clouds gather.”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

So, Ward dressed in his last clean outfit—black woolen pants, a dark blue shirt with lovely, polished horn buttons, and his hat and coat. He reckoned his boots could use a shine but resolved to do it after finding a Gopah master. It was his firm belief that Haley needed more attention than the leather. He unpacked everything he didn’t need or wouldn’t be heartbroken to have stolen and slung his much-lighter backpack over his shoulder.

“Come on, kiddo,” he said, irritating himself immediately. Haley didn’t cringe or complain, though; she stood and woodenly followed him down to the lobby. On the way, Grace made her first appearance for the day.

“Are you two hungry? I can smell bacon.”

Ward slapped his stomach, still amazed at its flat firmness. “I am!” When Haley didn’t respond but continued down the steps, he looked at Grace and shrugged.

“Is she not well?”

“Where have you been?”

“Sleeping!”

Ward hurried to catch up to Haley. “Do you really? I mean, is it like how,” he pointed to Haley and himself, “we sleep?”

“I think so.” Grace shrugged. “I dream and everything.”

Ward nodded and reached out to grasp Haley’s shoulder as soon as they were on the ground floor. “Hey.”

She turned to face him, expressionless. “Yes?”

“Go across the street. The bacon smells good.”

She stared at him for a solid two or three seconds before his words seemed to register. “Okay.” She turned, and Ward looked at Grace and shrugged, giving Haley a minute to slip through the door before he spoke.

“She’s worse again.”

“We have to figure this out. Did you try the hemograph?”

“No! She seemed better last night, and I thought maybe the Gopah master would know something. Shit, I mean, assuming we find one in the city.”

Grace nodded. “You will. Port Granite is several times the size of Tarnish. Do you really think it was the Gopah that was making her seem better?”

“It’s the only explanation I could come up with.” Ward started after Haley again, nodding to the innkeeper behind his counter. Outside, he had to pause to pull his coat together and button it up as his breath plumed out in a cloud.

“Chilly!” Grace said, rubbing her arms.

“You’re too much,” he chuckled.

“What? I like to experience what you do!” She pointed. “Haley’s already in line.”

Ward nodded, carefully crossing the street, making way for a man on a large roan stallion. The horse reminded him of Nutmeg and Wind Queen, and he glanced toward the inn’s stables but didn’t catch a glimpse of either horse. When he caught up to Haley, he asked, “You think the horses are all right?”

She spun, arching her eyebrow in the first show of emotion that morning. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Uh,” Ward reached up to adjust his hat, suddenly made nervous by her sharp tone, “I dunno. I’m sure they are—”

“Don’t worry me like that!”

Ward shared a glance with Grace, and then they approached the tavern’s breakfast buffet, which was something the barkeep had told them about the night before. Being across from the inn, the little tavern capitalized on every mealtime. They served eggs, bacon, and hash in the morning, fried fish at lunch, and then it was time for their usual—beer and more beer. Haley got a plate with a single egg and a slice of bacon, but when she stood before the cashier—a young woman in a stained blue smock and white apron—Haley handed her five glories and said, “For my two friends, as well.”

“Um—” Ward started to say, but the girl was already speaking.

“Is your other friend on his way?”

Haley stared at Grace for a long, pregnant moment before she barked a short, humorless laugh. “My mistake. Just the one friend.”

Ward cleared his throat. “Yeah, thanks, Haley.” He jerked his head toward the seating area, and they grabbed a table by the window.

Grace was the first to broach the topic as she knelt on the floor, leaning her arms and chin on the table between them. “Haley, do you feel differently than last night?”

“Yes, Grace,” she sighed, nibbling her bacon. “I tried to tell Ward. I feel like gray weather has rolled in over my mind.”

Ward swallowed a bite of eggs. “Did you try doing your forms?”

“How would I have? You woke before I did, didn’t you?” Haley’s eyes widened as she heard herself, and she hastily added, “I’m sorry, Ward, I—”

“Nah, don’t apologize. It was a stupid question.” Ward looked to his left, over Grace’s head, at a table of four men wearing overalls, heavy woolen shirts, and boots that looked well-broken in, sporting many dark stains that made him think of tar. “Hey, fellas?”

One of the men, a burly, red-haired, and bearded fellow, looked over a forkful of eggs and raised an eyebrow. “You speaking to us?”

“Yeah. Sorry to interrupt your breakfast.” Ward pointed to Haley and then himself. “We’re not from town and were wondering if any of you fellas know where we might find a Gopah, um, dojo?” He looked at Haley questioningly.

She nodded. “Yes, is there a dojo nearby?”

Redbeard didn’t respond, but the slender guy next to him did, rubbing his clean-shaven head. “Oh, yeah. There are a couple of dojos on this side of town. One is the Fire Lizard Clan’s temple, and then you have the Red Door. I’d say the Red Door would be more welcoming to folks from out of town.”

“Can you direct us?”

“Yeah, sure. Just go outside, and you’ll be on Cod Street. Turn left, walk past Pike Avenue, and then you’ll come to Hammer Row. Turn right, and you'll see the dojo if you walk for a few blocks. Can’t miss it.”

“Thanks a lot.” Ward tipped his hat, and the fellow nodded, returning to his breakfast.

“You really love this, don’t you?” Grace asked. Haley looked at Grace, but her face didn’t betray any emotion. Ward bit, though.

“Love what?”

“Living in a world where people wear clothes like that. Being able to tip your hat! You really fell into the mid-century gentleman role, you know?”

Haley looked at Ward, and this time, she arched an eyebrow. “Mid-century?”

“She’s talking about a time period back on Earth.” Ward scooped up a bite of eggs as he added, “And she’s full of shit.”

“Put it this way, Haley,” Grace said, shifting so she was basically hanging off the edge of the table on her elbows, “Ward was pretty stodgy and boring back home. He worked and slept and worked some more.”

Haley took a nibble of bacon and shrugged. “I think that shows strength of character. Ward’s a driven man. He had an important job.” She looked at him and, though it seemed forced, smiled. “Right?”

“I thought so, yeah. It was a job that made it easy to tune out the rest of my life, anyway.”

“Okay, okay.” Grace sighed. “I can see where your loyalty lies, Haley!” She spoke with a smile, and Ward could tell she was just teasing—busting his chops, as his old partner used to say—so he took pity on her.

“Eh, I made the mistake a lot of detectives make; I treated the lives of the people I was trying to help as if they were more important than my own. It wasn’t something I did on purpose, though. I didn’t think about it that way. I wasn’t like, ‘Okay, these assholes are smuggling XYZ on that boat, and that’s probably more important than me going on a date or buying some stylish clothes to…’” Ward laughed. “What the hell would I be buying stylish clothes for in this little fantasy? Anyway, yeah, my job was pretty much my life.”

Someone bumped the back of his chair, and Ward realized the place was getting crowded. Haley wasn’t really eating, and he was feeling antsy, so he grabbed his remaining rasher of bacon and pushed his plate away. “Let’s get moving, yeah?”

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“Okay.” Haley followed him out, and Ward immediately started following the guy’s directions to the dojo. As they walked, he nudged Haley with his elbow.

“You okay?”

It took her a few seconds to answer, but she shrugged. “You know I’m not.”

“C’mon. Remember what we talked about. Part of this is mind over matter, I’m sure of it.” When she didn’t respond, he tried another angle to get her talking. “I think I need to buy a new gun, and we also need to find someone to look at that creepy box we got out of Nevkin’s saddlebag.”

“Did you bring it?”

Ward slapped his backpack’s strap. “Yep.”

“That’s good! Perhaps, if the Gopah master will see us, he’ll have advice on where to inquire.”

Ward steered them around the corner, avoiding a woman sitting on a large rug where she’d displayed bits of silver jewelry for sale. As they walked up the hill between tall, narrow, mostly brick buildings, he asked, “Are you nervous? Have you ever spoken to another Gopah master?”

“Nervous? Not precisely, no. I was one of the best students in my dojo. I didn’t consider the idea that I should be nervous. Why do you think—”

“No, that was stupid.” Ward waved his hand, shaking his head. “Wrong choice of word. I should have asked what you think it’ll be like. It sounds like Gopah practitioners form pretty tight-knit groups.”

“It depends. The man in the tavern said the Red Door would accept anyone, so I think it will be similar to the dojo in Tarnish. Master Elm was happy to teach anyone.”

“Elm? Is that a common surname here?”

“I…” Haley squinted and looked up at Ward, her eyes glinting from the depths of her hood. “I don’t think I’ve met anyone else with it, no. Maybe he took it for himself?”

Ward nodded and, despite his misgivings, put an arm over Haley’s shoulder as they walked. It was a comradely thing like he might do for a buddy who was feeling down, nothing more. “Tell me a little about him.”

Haley reached up to grasp his wrist, leaning her cheek against his forearm. “I appreciate what you’re doing, Ward. I know you’re trying to give me cheer. I know—”

“Hush, now, and tell me about Gopah and your old master.”

“Well, if you insist.” She took a deep breath and began to speak, haltingly at first, and then the words began to ramble out of her, “Other than Wind Queen and my family, Gopah was the only thing I ever loved. I could practice my forms for hours and hours. Sometimes, I’d practice in the garden, and when my father would come out to call me in, I’d be stunned to realize it was already dinner time. To me, Gopah is about transcending these physical constructs you see around us—even our flesh. Master Elm would tell me that he could see my spirit when I did my forms. He was certain I’d be his first student to master the eleventh form—I was already the highest-ranked adept in Tarnish.”

“Shit,” Ward gripped her shoulder and pushed her out to arm’s length so he could look at her face. “I knew you were good but didn’t realize all that. What’s after red? That’s what you are, right?”

“Yes. Red adepts have six forms, white have seven, gray have eight, and black have nine.”

“What’s after black, again?”

“Sky, followed by soul.”

As she responded, Ward turned onto Hammer Row and scanned the buildings, wondering if he could spot the dojo from the corner. “Was your master a, uh, soul adept?”

“No! He’s a black adept. I don’t believe there’s a soul adept on Cinder. Even so, Master Elm had much to teach me.”

“Look!” Ward pointed down the street past an open market that took up roughly an entire block, and there, on the corner, was a sprawling, high-fenced compound with an ornate set of red double doors. One side was open, and beyond, Ward could see a courtyard with a fountain at the center. “I think that’s the dojo.”

“It is!” Haley quickened her steps, which Ward took as a good sign.

A few minutes later, they were tentatively poking their heads through the gate, looking for any indication that the public was welcome. When Haley saw two portly men, both wearing loose-fitting gray outfits, sparring in what looked like slow motion, she stepped inside. Grace muttered something he didn’t quite catch, but when he turned to ask her to repeat herself, she was gone. “I think Grace is afraid the, uh, Gopah master might see her.”

Haley didn’t reply and moved a bit further into the courtyard. Ward followed. One of the men was facing the gate, and when he saw Ward and Haley, he pressed his palms together and bowed to his opponent. The other fellow also bowed, and after they stared at each other for a couple of long seconds, he padded on bare feet up some steps and into the main structure. The first man approached Ward and Haley.

Ward knew the guy would have a deep voice even before he spoke. His chest was the size of a pickle barrel, and he carried himself like a sumo wrestler. He had swarthy, bronzed skin, and his shaved head glistened with sweat despite the morning chill. “Welcome, travelers!”

Conscious that Grace was probably judging him, Ward tipped the brim of his hat. “Hello, sir.”

Haley pressed her left fist into her right palm and bowed low. “Master. Thank you for allowing this one into your domain.”

“Ah! A fellow Gopah practitioner? I could have guessed based on your carriage, no? Welcome, adept.” He turned to Ward. “And you? Not a practitioner?”

Ward decided to keep things simple. “No.”

Haley had not yet straightened from her bow. “He has an interest in the art, Master, but more than that, he’s my boon companion.”

“You are welcome, adept. Please be relaxed.” As Haley straightened and lowered her hands, the master narrowed his eyes as he regarded her deep hood. “And what are your names, travelers? You may call me Stone.”

The name immediately caught Ward’s attention, especially considering Haley’s old master’s name. Was it possible that Gopah masters chose some sort of natural name for themselves, but Haley didn’t know it? If “Elm” was the only master she’d ever met, he supposed so. “I’m Ward, and this is Haley, sir. We were hoping we might speak with you. You are the, uh, master of this dojo, right?”

“That is I!” He chuckled and turned, pointing to a pair of benches off to the side where a smaller fountain burbled. “Come and sit with me?” He led the way, and when he sat down on one bench, Ward and Haley took the other, facing him. “I feel that you are troubled, Haley.”

“Right to the point. I like that—” Ward began to say, but Stone didn’t look at him, and when Ward saw his intent gaze on Haley, he shut up.

“I am troubled, Master Stone.” Haley ducked her head, and Ward was ninety percent sure the guy couldn’t see her face at all.

“Why don’t you pull back your hood, child? Let me have a look at you.”

“The sun bothers her—”

“It’s okay, Ward.” Haley reached up and pulled the silky blue cowl away from her face, squinting in the morning light despite the gray, cloud-filled sky.

“Ah! Very interesting! Tell me, young adept, what rank have you achieved?”

“I’m a red adept, sir.”

“Is that so? Have you yet learned to see the auras of other practitioners? Don’t be upset if not; it usually comes to people when they’ve passed through the rank of white adept.”

“I’ve glimpsed Master Elm’s aura.”

“Elm, you say? I know the man well! We trained together at Westview.”

Despite her attempts to squint, Haley’s eyes bulged. “Master Elm never told me that he’d been to Westview!”

“Oh, but he has!” Stone chuckled. “He and I were both quite young. Oh dear—it must be thirty years ago now. Haley, will you please run through your forms for me? Right there on the stones near the garden will do.”

“I haven’t even told you what happened…”

“Better that you don’t. Not yet. Let me see what I can see without a story clouding my sight.”

Haley nodded and stood, and Ward leaned to the side, tilting his body to watch her more easily as she took up a position on the edge of the big courtyard. “Please remove your cloak, dear.”

Ward almost protested on Haley’s behalf, but she complied too quickly, unfastening her fancy clasp and then bunching the garment up to toss his way. Ward caught it, once again surprised by the supple, heavy, silky feel of the material, and laid it on his lap. Haley wore her leather vest and a bright yellow, short-sleeved shirt beneath, and the paleness of her flesh was made very clear by the unfiltered sunlight.

“Begin.” Ward felt like Master Stone’s voice would give his own a run for its money when it came to depth and resonance. Haley didn’t need to be prodded again; she immediately began that strange Tai-chi-like dance, moving through her forms. Now that he concentrated, trying to spot the distinct positions, Ward thought he could count all six. He wondered what else constituted actual Gopah, as opposed to just moving your body through those positions. He wondered if it was similar to casting spells with the words of power—did you have to internalize something? Was there a secret rhythm? A state of mind you had to reach?

After a while, he began to see the waves of heat shimmering in the air around Haley’s fists as she snapped them faster and faster through the forms. Her moves were so precise and graceful that he lost himself in the dance, amazed by how she could so flawlessly repeat such complicated-seeming poses. When her fists were practically smoking, and Ward thought he could see glowing red beneath the flesh, he let his eyes drift up to her arms and face and realized she wasn’t as pale as before. Maybe she was flushed from the exertion, but he didn’t think that was it.

He studied her expression, and though she looked serious, he thought he saw a tiny curl to the corners of her lips; she was happy. She was enjoying herself. After a while, Master Stone said, “Enough. Please disperse your heat on the gopahj.”

Ward watched as Haley turned and strode straight across the courtyard to a gray, cylindrical stone set into the courtyard. It reminded him of a parking stanchion only about eight feet tall and a foot in diameter. Haley held her hands wide, the air rippling around them, and then she slapped them each against the “gopahj.” The slapping sound echoed around the courtyard, and Ward watched ripples of fire roll up the sides of the stone monolith. Then, as a small cloud of black smoke floated away into the gray sky, Haley returned to the sitting area.

Master Stone gestured to the bench, and Haley sat down beside Ward. He handed her the cloak, and she smiled brightly, folding it on her lap. Stone leaned forward and grasped Haley’s hand. “Excellent demonstration, Red Adept.”

“Thank you, Master Stone.”

“Might I ask how you feel now?”

“Better! I’ve told Ward that Gopah helps me. It’s why we came here. We hoped you might know—”

“What’s amiss?” Stone smiled, his cheeks lifting as he leaned back, folding one leg to rest his ankle on his other knee. “I asked you about auras because I can see yours plainly, Haley. Right now, it is bright and strong, but when you arrived, it was dim and clouded. Something clings to it, dragging on it. Your spirit is sheathed in something unfamiliar. Something eldritch—from beyond the veil. Am I correct?” He addressed the question to both Haley and Ward.

“I don’t…” Haley started to answer, but she turned to Ward.

“Haley died. She had no anima, so I risked everything by using a dangerous spell to rebind her spirit to her body.”

“I feared there was some connection between your sorcery and Haley’s troubles.” Stone sighed and shook his head. “I’m sure you meant well, sir, but Haley lives and breathes thanks to an unnatural power. Eldritch forces take a toll on the flesh and the spirit. I’m assuming your aversion to sunlight and those uncanny eyes resulted from the spell?”

“Yes. Also…” Again, Haley looked at Ward for support.

“She’s stronger than she used to be.”

Master Stone nodded. “You must continue to practice your Gopah. It fortifies your flesh, and sturdy flesh aids an ailing spirit.”

“Will it cure me?” Haley leaned forward, her eyes

“I don’t know for certain, Haley, but I believe that if you continue to master the forms, you will find more and more control over your predicament. You know what the eleventh form is called, yes?”

“Soul.”

“Whatever clings to your soul, my dear girl, will not linger long once you master the eleventh form. On that, I’d bet my favorite set of dice.” His smile was so reassuring that Ward felt himself grinning along with him. “It won’t be an easy path, dear Haley, but you have great talent. So young, and already six forms mastered? I’d beg you to stay and join my dojo, but I fear you’ve other, bigger plans in mind. Yes?” Again, the master looked at Ward as he asked the question.

Even so, it was Haley who said, “We’re traveling to Springsea next.”

“There! You see?” He reached over and tousled Haley’s short, feathery black hair. “You’re so much brighter! You should do your forms many times a day! Even if you didn’t have a burden on your spirit, you should do so; how else will you ready yourself for the white sash?” He let his gaze drift down to Haley’s belt and frowned. “Why the sword, Red Adept?”

“It was my father’s. I thought I might like to learn Gopahdo—”

“No.” For the first time, the master didn’t seem optimistic. He shook his head sharply. “That won’t do, Haley. No, no, no. With your condition, you must continue the path of pure Gopah—you must infuse only your flesh and, thus, your spirit; the sword is too far removed from your vessel. Yes, that’s what it is—your spirit craves the fire.”

Haley looked down at her waist, and Ward thought she would protest, but she nodded. “I understand, Master. May I ask you a favor before we leave?”

“Of course, child.”

“Will you show me the seventh form? I believe I’m ready to begin learning it.”