Six Celestial Swords (43 page)

“Lord Xu Liang is like a son to me,” Gai Ping said to Guang Ci. Both men walked close to Fu Ran, speaking softly in the only tongue they knew. “If he dies, I will carry his body to the Empress myself.”

“I will accompany you,” Guang Ci promised. “I would sooner die myself than to see his body left here among these detestable barbarians and their strange, filthy lands!”

“You would disgrace his memory with such words!” the elder scolded. “At the late Emperor’s command, he explored the outer realms and came to cherish them.”

“Careful,” Fu Ran said. “He’s not finished yet.”

After he issued the words, Fu Ran looked to the one person among them who genuinely believed that; Tristus Edainien.

Excluding the fire elves, the knight was the stranger among them. Yet somehow he’d managed to win everyone over. Fu Ran couldn’t say if it was pity come to affection or just phenomenal tolerance among the group, but even after his berserker side showed itself, the knight managed to fit himself in. And now, with
Dawnfire
in his possession, glowing against the eventide along with its sibling Blades, it was indisputable. He
was
one of them.

The thought carried Fu Ran’s gaze to Xu Liang, unconscious, getting some well-deserved sleep after his victory. If only he were asleep...if only he were aware of just how close he’d come to bringing all of the Swords together. With four of them present and the
Spear of Heaven
safely with the Empress, he had only to find one more. And then he could have returned to Sheng Fan.

“He’s going to make it, Fu Ran,” Tristus said softly.

Fu Ran looked up to see the knight staring directly ahead, a peculiar surety having banished his tears. It was as if he knew something that no one else did. Fu Ran couldn’t say if he felt comforted by that, or more depressed. At the moment he felt numb, as devoid of thought or expression as Xu Liang. If the mystic did somehow make it, he was not going to be happy.

THE LAND LIFTED around them, gaining dimension and texture. No more was the terrain flat and cast with an endless sheet of snow. Steep, slender shadows loomed all around the travelers. They moved through the mountain pass feeling as if they were being passed along by many dark hands. They were in the clutches and the care of the Phoenix Elves.

Shirisae lit their way with
Firestorm
. At the wide base of one of the sheer, ominous rock formations, the lady elf stopped them. She bade them wait while she and her brother rode ahead into the darkness.
Firestorm
illuminated a third rider when the siblings drew to a halt several yards away.

The companions huddled in the soft, golden glow of
Dawnfire
, watching...and waiting.

Tristus had not relinquished his hold on either the spear or Xu Liang for the duration of their journey into this last stand of mountains. He held
Dawnfire
in one hand, Blue Crane’s reins in the other, with Xu Liang slumped over his arm. In the stillness of the wait, he gently and almost unconsciously drew the mystic closer. He felt ten years younger, verging upon discovery, one of the first of many discoveries that would dictate the course of his entire life. In his twenty-six years, he’d only gravitated toward two people this strongly. One had pushed him away, the other had been dead for two years now. While still with the Order, he’d given himself to duty and then, recently, to despair and to desperately trying to recover some sense of purpose after his banishment. He’d forgotten what it was like to be out of all possibility of mortal danger and to still be afraid.

“I’m leaving,” Alere announced, and in the suddenness of his words, Tristus looked at him quickly, drawing the white elf’s gaze. He didn’t have to ask why. The elf saw the question in Tristus’ eyes, and answered. “I will go no further. These elves are neither my kin nor my allies.”

That wasn’t good enough for Tristus. “Alere, you can’t.” He kept his voice low, but his words were urgent, pleading. “What about the quest? What about the Swords? Though I didn’t understand it at first, I know now that the Blades are drawn together for some purpose. We must stay together.”

Alere simply looked at him, waiting for him to finish. And then, unexpectedly, he smiled. He shook his head gently. “No. I will not stay here among my enemies. However, do not despair, Tristus Edainien. We will meet again. The mystic believes in fate, that to all things, regarding all ends, there is a purpose.
Pearl Moon
will not cease to shine this night, though the light of its bearer should wane and be gone from this world. The Swords will find each other again. And so I bid you farewell, Knight of Andaria. For now.”

Tristus watched the elf, knowing that no force in this realm was going to stop him, since he’d made up his mind. He searched for words anyway and as the white elf turned Breigh around and departed, Tristus said only, “Alere...”

“There’s the loyalty of an elf for you,” Tarfan grumbled. “Takes the frying pan himself and dumps us into the fire.”

“I don’t think he would have left if he believed we were in any danger, Tarfan,” Tristus said quietly, still watching Alere’s departing form.

“So what now?” Fu Ran asked, and it was several moments before Tristus realized the large man was asking him. Perhaps it was only because he sat so near their fallen leader.

With his attention once again fully on the matter at hand, Tristus answered in as calm a voice as he could muster. “We go with the fire elves. We’ve come this far, and if there’s any chance at all that they can aid Xu Liang, we must take it.”

Fu Ran nodded, then began speaking to the bodyguards in Fanese, presumably explaining things to them. All five of the brilliantly armored warriors looked at Tristus when the large man was finished, their expressions unreadable.

Shirisae and D’mitri returned within the following moments. “Our passage has been granted. Be warned that the way to Vilciel from here is long and treacherous. Do not stray from the path. I will be your guide and my brother shall follow to be certain no one is lost.”

“It looks as if we’ve lost one already,” D’mitri commented, his tone sounding satisfied as well as derisive.

Tristus ignored the chill that climbed up his back, and said to Shirisae, “How long is this path? I fear our friend is quickly fading.”

Shirisae regarded Xu Liang with a brief glance. Her golden eyes looked long at Tristus. “For him the journey will be easy. For the rest of you, it will be a test of your worth before our god.”

“What in the blasted hells is that supposed to mean?” Tarfan demanded.

“I can give you only this information; The Phoenix is not a force for preservation, but of renewal. Use the knowledge I have given you wisely.”

Shirisae started off, and the companions lingered under the cold, burning gaze of her sibling.

“Does anyone else have a bad feeling about this?” Taya asked nervously.

“I’ll bet Alere didn’t know about this little lump of gold,” Tarfan grumbled.

Tristus drew in a long breath and held it briefly. Then, as no one else seemed inclined to do so, he moved forward, following Shirisae. Whether they were following him or Xu Liang, he did not know, but he was glad when he heard their gradual footsteps behind him.

The black-clad, flame-haired lady elf brought them to an open gateway at the base of a sleek, dark mountain. There had been no sources of light to illuminate the ancient characters etched upon the dark gray stone of the archway before the Blades drew near. Wide stairs, seemingly carved of the mountain itself, ascended from the gate, leading directly into the mountain.

“It must be treacherous,” Tarfan muttered to Tristus. “If there are no doors or guards to stand against intruders.”

“Someone else was here,” Fu Ran reminded. “Though I don’t see that other rider now.”

“We’ll have to be careful.” That was all Tristus could think to say as his throat constricted, feeling raw and dry. And then he looked suddenly for Taya, almost forgetting that she had ridden on the only horse left to them other than Blue Crane. In the confusion of the ice giant’s attack, the supply horse had panicked and fled beyond recovery. No one thought to look for the animal immediately after Xu Liang had fallen. The last thing Tristus wanted to do was insult the dwarf maiden, but he didn’t want to lose anyone else, and so he spoke what was on his mind. “Fu Ran, will one of you ride with Taya? The way looks steep.”

Following the words, he glanced at Taya, expecting a look of resent or indignation. He was glad when he saw the relief on her round face clearly. She did not complain when the older bodyguard Gai Ping climbed into the saddle behind her and took up the reins.

The companions, now ten and possibly soon to be only nine, entered the world of the Phoenix Elves. And a strange, dark world it was; a network of enclosed corridors without torches or windows. In many places the shadows were too deep to allow any sense of dimension. Each wall, as well as the ceiling and much of the floor, were hidden from view. The companions saw only the wide stairs immediately underfoot, each step echoing off the darkness, penetrating a silence that not even the mountain wind was bold enough to invade. No one spoke.

To Tristus’ left,
Dawnfire
glowed, tracing streams of gold in Xu Liang’s flowing hair, which sufficiently hid his face from view. Tristus thought that he still felt him breathing. That was the only way he knew the mystic was alive. That he had lasted this long was a miracle in itself. If he made it to any form of healing at all, surely he would pull through. If he’d lost his will, he’d have gone long ago. Tristus kept telling himself that. He made himself believe it.

“
One must follow what one believes in,
” Xu Liang had said. “
Whether it is reasonable or not.
”

Tristus heard the mystic’s voice in his head and blocked out all others, including those that might have warned him of the many eyes watching from the shadows.

FROM A LOW lying ridge over the mountain pass, Bastien could just see the caravan come to a stop. He’d watched them linger for a bit before they started moving again, led by the strangers in black. Phoenix Elves. The former gypsy had heard plenty of tales about the flame-haired mountain folk. They were dangerous, but they seemed to have some use for the humans currently in their company. The worst assault they’d delivered so far was a fiery glare.

Something was amiss, though. Bastien would have thought matters could get no worse after the berserker—though that did prove a convenient distraction, better even than simply disappearing in the confusion of battle—but then came the undead, the fire elves, and finally the ice giant. Even after activating the invisibility enchantment placed upon his cloak, Bastien had been just as much at risk of getting crushed as everyone else. It was that knight’s doing. The mystic should have let Fu Ran deal with him when he had a mind to. Now the berserker seemed to be leading the group while Xu Liang did a fine job imitating a corpse.

What next?
Bastien wondered.

In a heartbeat, he had his answer. Something stabbed deep into his leg. He yelped and reflexively twisted to end the affliction, making it unintentionally easier for his attacker to get a firm grip on his cloak and to lift him upright so that his throat just touched the edge of a blade. Sudden light flared in his eyes, but he couldn’t close them as he stared in utter amaze at the elf glaring steadily back at him.

“You...” Bastien’s voice lumped in his throat. He swallowed and tried again. “You saw through my spell.”

“I smelled you,” Alere growled with disgust. “Blame
Aerkiren
for the shattering of your disguise. I meant to kill you, but since my random stab left you still alive let us not waste your final breaths. I want to know who you really are!”

“My...name is Bastien Crowe. I’m a sailor aboard the
Pride of Celestia
, friend to Fu Ran and any who are his allies. After the battle with the Fanese bandits, I was wounded and staggered off to escape the berserker as well as to patch my injuries. I must have lost consciousness. When I came around everyone had already gone. I followed and decided to keep a distance after I saw the other elves...to watch them.”