Immortal Swordslinger 2 Page 13

  I could target the angler now without worrying about being enthralled by it.

  I advanced on the monster, parried a swing of its remaining claw, and stabbed it straight through the center of its face. There was a hiss of metal sliding through fleshy cartlidge and then a splash as the angler collapsed lifelessly.

  Kumi continued singing her healing song while Vesma kept up the bell-ringing to support the rest of us. But Labu was in trouble. One of his companions had fallen, and now the prince was cut off again. He ducked and weaved as he stabbed at the advancing monsters with his barbed spear, but one of them appeared behind him and swept out the prince’s legs. He fell to the ground, and the creature bent over him with a malicious grin of vicious teeth.

  Water sprayed from my footfalls as I sprinted across the pool. I shot a fireball into the angler’s side that drew its attention away from the fallen Labu. I followed the fire with thorns as I got closer and riddled the angler’s face with splinters. Blood seeped from a dozen tiny wounds as the monster let out a low, angry hiss and stepped over Labu.

  I called forth the power of water to reinforce my armor once more. The Sundered Heart blazed with flames as I swung it at the creature’s face. The angler dodged aside and showed itself to be more nimble than the others I’d met. It made a low swing with a claw that might have knocked my feet out from under me, but I jumped over the blow and lashed out as I went. The blade of the Sundered Heart hit the creature’s wrist and dropped a clawed hand into a pile of corpses behind it.

  The angler reared back, but I wasn’t going to give it a chance to recover. I dived straight at it and swung my blade in a flurry of blows. It tried to block one, but that action let me cut off the remaining claw. I ran it through just as it started to vanish into the water.

  I drew my sword out of the angler’s body and went to crouch beside Labu. He bled from a wound on his chest as he labored to breathe with a rasping sound.

  I laid my hand on the wound, touched it as lightly as I could to avoid causing pain, and drew on the power of sap. Sunlight Ichor flowed across Labu’s skin and gave it a golden sheen that glowed as it caught the light that came in through the open roof of the hall. The prince’s wounds started to heal, slowly at first, and then faster as I fed more Vigor into the technique.

  “It’s the last one,” Vesma called out. She had forced an angler out of the water at spearpoint and now corned it in the shaded space between the pillars. She raised her weapon, but the monster’s lure caught her attention. Her eyes went blank, and the angler poised its claws to strike.

  I left Labu to heal and dashed over to the pillars while I hurled thorns at the final angler. They were just enough to catch the beast’s attention, and it turned to face my charge. The move was too slow to save it. I brought the Sundered Heart around in a swing that split the angler along its jaw. Without fire surrounding the blade, the death-dealing blow didn’t cauterize, and blood streamed out of the monster as it slumped onto the tiles.

  The room was still. All the enemies were dead.

  My comrades caught their breath as I rinsed the Sundered Heart and sheathed it. King Beqai sat on his throne, as unmoving as he’d been while his people fought for him.

  I had to wonder: what sort of leader did that?

  I picked up the body of the last angler, hauled it across the room, and dumped it at Beqai’s feet.

  “Your Majesty,” I said in a clear voice. “My name is Ethan Murphy lo Pashat, and I respectfully request an audience with you.”

  Beqai stirred at last. I was still thrown by a man who looked human, but from the waist-down, was some kind of tentacled monster. Except he didn’t look terrifying. He looked old, sick, and despondent.

  One tentacle tapped idly in the water as he lowered his gaze to stare at the body and then me. His expression was one of bemusement, but he didn’t speak.

  Labu marched over to me, and his knuckles whitened around his spear. “How dare you, outsider?” he hissed. “I could have felled these anglers without your meddling. You have dishonored me in front of my father.”

  I pointed at the golden glow on his chest and the wounds as they healed beneath it. “I saved your life, esteemed Prince.”

  “You dishonor yourself and your clan by stepping into the palace,” Labu spat. “You are just as much an invader as these vampiric anglers.”

  “Would you rather I hadn’t?”

  Labu seethed at me as his mouth worked for an answer.

  While he was busy overworking his brain and the king still sat silently on his throne, I turned to Vesma. She stood at the edge of the hall so that she could look out across the city from the palace stairs.

  “How is it down there?” I asked.

  “Over,” she replied. “We won.”

  Kumi approached the throne and bowed her head before speaking. “Father,” she said, her voice edged with concern. “The monsters are vanquished. I believe the guild sent them here. I don’t know how they managed to control the creatures, but I’m sure it was them.”

  Labu snorted. “You blame the guild for everything, Sister.”

  Still, the king was silent. I’d only ever visited a nursing home on a school field trip, but I was getting similar vibes from old Beqai.

  I faced him again and bowed as deeply as I could while still encased in ice armor. “Your Majesty, will you hear a message from the Radiant Dragon Guild? I offer my respects and bring the greetings of my master, Xilarion.”

  The mention of Xilarion seemed to break through the haze, and Beqai’s face moved for the first time, nodding slowly. His hand reached up to his face, and his fingers curled through his beard.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ethan Murphy lo Pashat.” His voice was deep but cracked with age. “And to hear from my old friend Xilarion. But someone please tell me, what has happened here?”

  “Father, the city has been attacked by a horde of water beasts,” Kumi said, her father obviously oblivious to the first time she’d mentioned it. “The Resplendent Tears Guild has clearly driven them out of the Vigorous Zones to attack us. First our farms, and now, this. And there is the matter of the Wild Isles. I believe they are also responsible for causing problems there.”

  Beqai’s already wrinkled face crumpled further as he frowned and slowly shook his head. His hair and beard rustled against his skin. “The member of the guild are our friends and neighbors. They would never do such a thing.”

  “The old guild might not have,” Kumi said. “The guild you knew when you came to the throne. But things have changed. Horix would not flinch from any act that might increase his power, or that of the guild.”

  Beqai’s frown deepened. “Horix is an old friend. For all that the currents of life had swept us apart, I struggle to believe that he would do this.” He turned his attention to Labu. “My son, the stream of your life flows through the waters of Resplendent Tears. Do you believe that they did this thing?”

  Labu stood in proud silence before his father and showed no weakness despite his injuries.

  I continued to listen as I knelt beside a fallen soldier and gently pulled his eyes closed.

  “The guild would not commit a crime like this,” the prince said finally. “The Vigorous Zones must have grown stronger after the last reaping. We are killing too many monsters. The sea’s magical heart is becoming stronger at too rapid a rate. It’s unsustainable. We must hold back on farming for cores to prevent this from happening again.”

  Kumi threw her hands in the air. “Even if core farming is the problem, that still comes back to the guild! They’re the ones grasping for more and more power, scouring the Vigorous Zones for every scrap of magic they can take. Either they’re gaining the power to launch attacks on us, or they’re driving the zones into a frenzy and letting us suffer the consequences. Brother, why aren’t you doing your job at the guild and reeling in these power-hungry Augmenters? You are our emissary!”

  Labu didn’t even look at his sister. He remained stiff-backed and formal, hi
s attention focused on his father. “My sister forgets the vital role that trained Augmenters play. Without them, Qihin would be easy pickings for any guild that arrived here, whether true or tainted. And there are the Island Chieftains who would leap at the opportunity to infest our beloved city. Sister believes the guild is responsible for their infighting, but we all know how their rage broils beneath the surface.”

  Beqai nodded, and Kumi balled her fists. “Father!” she began, but Labu cut her off.

  “We need the protection that a guild in our lands offers. A little more work on my part, and I believe they will allow clan members to train with them.”

  “You’re a fool if you believe that,” Kumi said as she turned to look him in the face. “They despise Wilds. Horix, Cadrin, all of them.”

  “They know only of the troublesome Wilds from the Isles. They will see that we are different.”

  “They only see skin-deep. And you would know that if you weren’t so smitten by them.” Kumi sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “Tell me, Brother: if having a guild here is so beneficial to Qihin, why have they become a thorn in our side? Why are we overrun with monsters if the guild is here to protect us?”

  I caught a corpse under the arms and pulled him out of the sacred pool. The fishman was ravaged from the vampiric anglers. He’d died quickly from a slashed throat. The Qihin King and the siblings’ conversation continued unabated. They fed me answers to questions that I’d juggled since I’d arrive here.

  “It is the fault of those inside Qihin,” Labu said. “By holding too firmly to traditions, most of our people deprive themselves of power and influence in the region, and in doing so, they weaken our whole clan. We must seize that power when it is offered and learn to fight for ourselves.”

  “At what cost, Labu?” Kumi asked. “What price will the guild make us pay for access to its powers? What will we lose in becoming more like them?”

  King Beqai let out a deep sigh. “You both are always talking of fighting. Do you not realize that some things are better resolved through diplomacy and carefully chosen words?”

  “With all due respect, Father, how would diplomacy have saved us from the monsters that attacked the city today?” Labu asked. “Should we have talked calmly with the anglers and the starsquids? Perhaps sit down to tea with the lampreys? Our problem is not a lack of words. It is a lack of strength and discipline. The guild helps us with both. They may only allow the least monstrous of the fishfolk to join them, but it is better than nothing. Were it not for the training I received from Disciple Cadrin, we would not have held back these magical beasts from destroying the city.”

  Beqai waved dismissively at the body I had dropped by his feet. “These things happen. The flow of magic and of beasts around us is just a change in the tide. If we can learn to flow with the great stream, then we can follow the Path of Peace, as I have long taught you.”

  “The Path of Peace is why we cannot defend ourselves!” Labu snapped as his eyes narrowed into vicious slits. “And now Xilarion, the man who talked you onto this path, has sent his hirelings to cloud your thinking once again. You say you are seeking peace and wisdom for our people, but all your endless meditation does is let us drift rudderless toward disaster.”

  “Your youth and your pride in this city are to be commended, my son,” Beqai said. “But you must let your turmoil go before you can find the current of truth.”

  “Labu is right, Father,” Kumi said. “We can’t just sit idle. We need to act to ensure our safety.”

  “That is not what I meant, Sister.” The prince glowered at her, but she kept her eyes focused on the king.

  “All will be well,” Beqai said, a faraway look returning to his eyes as he sank back in his seat. “You will see.”

  “Ridiculous.” Kumi flung her hands in the air again and turned to her brother. “We may not agree on much, but we both want to act, yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then, we need to gather information. Whether the guild was behind this or not, we need to learn what the members know about this attack and how they view it. Their understanding of the Vigorous Zones is different from ours and could help. Perhaps something is happening to the monsters. The guild could tell us.”

  “Agreed. I will return to the guild and see what it knows of these events.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Vesma said flatly. Like me, she’d been listening to the conversation. She turned her attention to me as I hauled another twisted body out of the central pool. “There’s something to this I don’t like. We need to bring Faryn and Kegohr into this.”

  I wanted to go with her, but I figured I might be better able to push past the king’s exterior if I could talk with him alone. Xilarion had wanted me to help resolve the conflict between clan and guild, and the tentacled fishman on the throne was my best shot.

  “Travel safe,” I told her. “I’ll stay here and help with clean-up. See you soon.”

  Labu’s icy glare found me as Vesma joined him and his surviving friends. There was barely veiled conflict in that stare. The kind that hinted at trouble coming for me down the line.

  “It’s better I organize the burials and restoration of order, Ethan,” Kumi told me gently. “Thank you for your help today. You have made our small corner of the world a safer place.”

  “Happy to help,” I said.

  She smiled and shook her head. The seashells in her braids clattered against each other and made a sound like distant laughter. “I will see you later,” she said as she headed out of the hall.

  I let out a deep breath. It had been a long day. I was starving. But it was far from over yet.

  “King Beqai,” I said. “Will you now hear me speak?”

  Chapter Ten

  King Beqai of the Qihin gave no answer. His eyes were open, but to all intents and purposes, he seemed asleep and lost in his own inner world. His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm beneath his impressive beard.

  “Guildmaster Xilarion sent me here,” I said, hoping the mention of his old friend would tear him back to reality as it’d done before. But he remained still and silent save for the motions and sounds of breathing.

  My first instinct was to try to pull him out of his reverie. Then, I remembered that he’d managed to meditate through a whole battle in front of his face. A prod in the chest wasn’t likely to stir him any more than the lifeblood of his kin or the threat of bloodthirsty monsters inches away from his throne. Besides, I didn’t want to get too close to those strange tentacles that made up his legs.

  I’d been part of diplomatic missions while working for Running Blade Security, so I knew that powerful political figures did things in their own time. These periods of meditation seemed vitally important to the king, apparently more so even than an invasion of his city. He might have been aloof and even a little bit crazy, but if I wanted to make a conversation happen, the best I could do was to respect his attempts to become one with the flow of the universe.

  I pushed aside the body of an angler and sat down on the floor in front of the throne with the Sundered Heart Sword laid across my knees.

  I sat like that for a while as I waited for the king to stir from his reflection. Servants came to dispose of the bodies, refresh the bloodstained water, and set the gongs straight. I thought I caught a glimpse of Labu’s form in the reflection of a waterfall behind the throne at one point. The prince looked livid, but I gave no sign I’d seen him.

  After a while, new guards arrived to stand duty at the top of the stairs. A fishwoman in the livery of the royal court brought me tea and green biscuits with a strange, salty flavor. I took my time in eating them and felt my raging hunger settle down.

  If anyone questioned my presence, they didn’t do it to my face. I figured word must have spread of how I’d helped clear the monsters from the city and the fishfolk were more than happy to leave me to my own devices. I sipped at the tea, meditated, and took the time to slowly apply Sunlight Ichor to my injuries from the fight a
gainst the vampiric anglers.

  Hours seemed to pass by as Beqai remained in his philosophical reverie. I channeled Vigor and centered my being to hold any signs of tiredness at bay. A servant brought a folding table and placed it in front of the king. On it, they put more biscuits like those they had fed me, a jug of tea, and a simple clay cup.

  Beqai finally stirred and turned his head to look down at me. “Thank you for your patience, Ethan Murphy lo Pashat. It warms the heart to share my throne room with someone who understands the importance of stillness.”

  I kept any sign of irritation from my face as I answered. “It’s an honor. Might I ask the nature of your meditation??”

  “I was considering the waves,” Beqai said. “They are both everything and nothing, the constancy of the world and its ever changing nature. They are the flow within and without, are they not?”

  I considered his pronouncement. It sounded close to zen philosophy from my own world. Maybe there was a deep message behind them, or maybe they were utterly meaningless. I didn’t want to get into a philosophical debate, not when there were practical issues at stake. A debate with Beqai promised to be about as helpful as arguing politics on Twitter.

  “I’m afraid my training hasn’t strongly considered the ocean, Your Majesty,” I said. “ Might I ask you about another matter?”

  “Of course, my boy.” Beqai leaned forward to take one of the biscuits. His movements were slow, and his joints creaked. It was only now that I realized he was permanently hunched over. I would have pitied him in his infirmity, but he seemed at peace with it, as he did with all things in the world around him.

  “Why does Guildmaster Horix object to your kind so strongly?” I asked. “You two were friends once, but now, it seems that he’s taken against you and your people.”

  “The unenlightened typically cling to shades of power,” Beqai said with a frown. “It is their way of understanding their place within the multiple layers of existence. The dichotomy of strength from discipline and strength from natural realization plague the young.”