Stronger Than a Bronze Dragon Read online

  “Why didn’t you tell me about the vow before?”

  “I’m too used to keeping secrets.” He shrugs. “It’s just who I am.”

  Before I can respond, a smoky wisp, dark even against the shadows, catches my attention. I shove Anshui’s spectacles into my pocket and seize my sword.

  “Ligui,” I whisper to Tai. They must be expanding their reach if they’re showing up in Baiheshan. I’m disturbed, but I don’t dwell on it. I’m too used to the unexpected—when you live in a village where Ligui might invade every night for a week then go months without appearing, you adapt to randomness. “Stay close. I’ll take care of them.”

  My heart clenches at the blackness around me. It’s so dense I widen my eyes just to make sure they’re open. I’ve never fought on terrain like this before—a forest so thick even the moonbeams fail to break through. I wish I could have kept Anshui’s spectacles on, but I don’t trust them not to fall off. Though the only Ligui attacks I’ve witnessed have been waves of monsters descending on places with many people, Mr. Liu—one of the few Dailan messengers to make it back—once described how two appeared before him when he was traveling alone on a deserted road.

  A Ligui’s cry rings out to my left, and I whirl, slashing my sword. Several powerful arms, each holding a dagger, flail from what looks like a dozen torsos standing on a multitude of legs. Scores of glowing white eyes glare at me from its many heads. It looks as if someone bound the shadows of several large, knife-wielding men together, and they’re doing their best to escape.

  The rush of action pounds through my veins. Dark blades stab down toward me, and I quickly parry. Magic crackles from my sword with each blow. Seeing an opening, I thrust forward and slice upward, cutting one of its many torsos up the middle. Its multitude of heads shriek at once, and the sound shakes me to the bone. But the torso—and the flailing arms attached to it—vanishes.

  In the corner of my eye, I spot another Ligui forming, but with this multi-headed thing still coming at me, there’s nothing I can do but pray that Tai’s able to find shelter somewhere—though where, I don’t know. There aren’t any barrier spells out here. And he’s as good as unarmed without an enchanted weapon.

  I try to quicken my movements. Heat winds around my skin. After slicing off another of the Ligui’s arms, I take off one of its heads. Screeches and shrieks grate in my ears so loudly I can barely hear the crackle of my sword against the thing’s knives.

  A blade crashes down toward me. I dodge, but the movement throws me off balance. Pain lances through my left arm as a different blade slices my skin. Before I can recover, yet another blade comes at me. Though I manage to block it, the force sends me flying backward into a tree.

  My neck snaps back, and my head bangs against the trunk. Total blackness surrounds my vision.

  A moment later I’m on the ground, but I don’t remember hitting it. My sword lies by my elbow—when did I release my grip?

  Ignoring my injuries, I grab my weapon and spring up, ready to finish the fight. But the Ligui is gone. Did I do enough damage that it dissolved while I was briefly blacked out? Puzzled, I take a few steps forward. Distant crackling catches my attention. Gold sparks bounce between two trees. What in the world?

  Another screech explodes behind me. I whirl in time to see a burst of sparks spew forth. A dark mass undulates several paces ahead. Parts of it dissipate, leaving behind a familiar figure.

  The Shadow Warrior. This is the third time he’s appeared in a few days—is he following me? Why?

  The Shadow Warrior’s glowing white gaze meets mine for an instant before he vanishes into the shadows, robbing me of yet another chance at revenge. Familiar rage crashes against my heart, but a sense of confusion accompanies it. The other Ligui seem to have disappeared as well. But where did they go?

  Something taps my shoulder, and I spin, raising my sword. It catches Tai’s staff.

  “Hey! It’s me!” He pushes down my blade. “I think they’re gone …”

  I listen for the shrieks of the Ligui, but hear none. “What was all that about?”

  “I don’t know. I destroyed two—I think that’s all there were.”

  “No, there were at least—wait, you destroyed two Ligui? With what?”

  He glances at his staff and spins it once. “This contains just enough magic to treat Ligui as if they’re solid.”

  My jaw drops. “You had an enchanted weapon this whole time? You should have told me!”

  He angles his mouth. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to hide it. It just never occurred to me to mention it.”

  “You stole that from someone, didn’t you?”

  “Would you believe me if I said it was a gift?”

  “No.” I snort. “Anyway, we should hurry.” I slide my sword into its strap and move to pass him, but he catches my shoulder.

  “You’re injured.”

  I glance at my cut. It may sting and bleed, but it hardly counts as a wound. “No, I’m not.” I shake him off, pull out the spectacles again, and continue through the woods. When I realize he isn’t following, I turn. “Are you coming?”

  Tai approaches with something white and glowing in his hand: the River Pearl. Catching my gaze, he moves it behind his back. “Don’t try to steal it.”

  “If I’d wanted to do that, I would have already. What are you doing with it?”

  “A dragon’s magic is supposed to have healing powers.” He holds the pearl up. “I think I can do something about that cut on your arm.”

  “Half of Dailan has tried to use the pearl for healing. It never did anything.”

  “They didn’t read the ancient scroll I saw at the viceroy’s palace.” He peers at the gleaming relic. “I don’t know if this will work, but it’s worth a try if you’ll let me.”

  Deciding there’s no harm in it, I hold out my left arm and pull the sleeve back to reveal the bleeding gash running from my wrist to my elbow. “Hao ba. Go ahead.”

  Tai draws closer and takes my hand, wrapping warm, strong fingers around mine. I find his touch unexpectedly comforting. He brings the pearl toward my cut until it hovers so close I can sense its energy flowing into my skin.

  He closes his eyes, and I peer into his face curiously, wondering what he’s doing.

  A stinging sensation prickles down my arm. Startled, I try to pull back, but he tightens his grip around my hand. A warm, invisible force pulses across my skin. I gasp as white light from the pearl streams down into my wound like water flowing over a rock.

  After a few seconds, the light fades, leaving behind unblemished skin. I stare in shock. “How … How did you do that?”

  “It worked?” Tai opens his eyes and releases my hand. “That’s … fantastic.” Though he speaks with his usual light tone, an odd, somewhat disturbed look crosses his expression. “I told you this was more than a useless relic.” He gives the pearl a toss and slips it into his tunic.

  “You didn’t answer my question!” I can’t stop staring at my arm. There’s no way that should have worked; I’ve witnessed Dailan’s spellmasters try and fail to unlock the River Pearl’s powers again and again. How did this strange boy succeed at what they couldn’t? “What did you do?”

  He knits his brows. “To be honest … I don’t know. There were words on the scroll … I can’t explain it, but when I thought of them just now, I felt the pearl heat in my hand. I guess that was the magic waking.”

  “What did the scroll say?”

  “It wasn’t the words themselves that mattered, but the emotion they invoked.” He shakes his head. “Like I said, I can’t explain it.”

  I narrow my eyes, but confusion colors his expression. Apparently there are powers at work here that even he doesn’t understand.

  “I need to see that scroll.”

  “Well, if you need a thief to steal it for you, I know one who’d be happy to take the job.” Tai flashes me a grin.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  So the River Pearl has magic
after all … a kind powerful enough to latch onto someone who did nothing more than read some words. No wonder Viceroy Kang wants it so badly.

  For the first time, I start to believe that the pearl really can be used to defeat the demon king. Now that I’ve seen the magic, the fact finally hits me—we’re going to fight the demon king. A strange mix of excitement and fear runs through me as the weight of what we’re going to do finally lands. But though my heart trembles, this changes nothing.

  I’ve come too far to turn back now.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  THE SPELLMASTER

  By the time we reach Baiheshan Miao, dawn is spreading its first glisks across the sky. Exhaustion weighs on me from a whole night of walking through the forest. We would have made it here sooner if we’d known where we were going—the road from the city to the temple takes only three hours to walk—but with nothing to guide us, it’s amazing that we found our destination at all. The sight of the temple’s wide, tiered roofs energizes me, and I pick up my pace.

  A stone wall surrounds the temple. As I approach a round door, Tai rushes past me to the entrance. He must be as eager for this part of our journey to end as I am.

  The door swings open before we reach it. A tall woman of a deep brown complexion with cool undertones stands beneath its wooden frame. She looks like no one I’ve ever seen before, and I warn myself not to stare. Her long white tunic, worn over a white skirt that reaches her feet, drapes down from one shoulder and is belted by a woven sash of dark blue lined with thin, brightly colored stripes. A string of large wooden beads drapes down her neck. Her prominent cheekbones slope toward a firm jaw, and brown eyes gaze at us from beneath black brows. Though her head is shaved like most monks’, she wears a band of black-and-white beads across her forehead.

  Tai greets her with a grin. “Ibsituu. It’s good to see you again.”

  “I’m glad you made it back.” Her low voice seems to glow like jade, and her accent makes her sound like she’s smoothing down each word she speaks, rounding their sharp corners. Though her skin is as firm as my own except for subtle lines by her mouth, her patient eyes suggest that she is significantly older than I am—perhaps older than my mother. She gestures for Tai to enter with one long, narrow arm, and her expression warms. “Come inside. You must be exhausted.” Her gaze lands on me. “And who are you?”

  I approach. “Liang Anlei.”

  “She’s the only reason I made it here at all.” Tai smiles at me.

  “I see.” Ibsituu’s eyes gleam. “And yet the hardest part of your journey has yet to begin. I take it you found the final piece, then?”

  Tai produces the River Pearl in a movement so quick I don’t see where he pulled it from.

  After accepting it with both hands, Ibsituu closes her eyes. “Yes … I feel the River Dragon’s power. How did you obtain it?”

  “He stole it from me.” I cross my arms. “I’m here to make sure he defeats Mowang and gives it back when he’s done.”

  She barks out a laugh. “You possess uncommon generosity and courage, Liang Anlei.”

  My heart glows at the praise. “Xie xie.”

  “Bie ke qi.” She walks into the courtyard. “I assume you two are the reason Viceroy Kang’s cyborg soldiers wanted to search the temple last night. Viceroy Chu’s men stopped them, and as far as I know, the two viceroys are currently negotiating via messenger for Kang’s right to conduct a search here. You should be safe for now, though I don’t recommend you stay long.”

  “Good to know,” Tai says. “Did they happen to mention a stolen ship hiding in a cave?”

  Ibsituu arches her brows. “What happened to the invisibility spell I gave you?”

  I let out a derisive noise. “That ship crashed because Tai wasn’t paying attention. We had to steal a different one.”

  He shoots me an irritated look. “It was just bad luck. I—”

  “I don’t care.” Ibsituu gives Tai a chastising glare. “I hope you haven’t come to ask for another one. Invisibility potions take time to create.”

  Tai’s mouth drops into a sheepish expression.

  “As for your initial question,” she continues, “do you think all this bureaucracy would be necessary if they’d found your ship? It would have been evidence enough that there was a dangerous thief in this province, and Kang’s men would be free to hunt him as they pleased.”

  I exhale. At least we won’t have to attempt to reach the Courts of Hell on foot—assuming no one discovers the ship before we return. “We don’t have a lot of time.”

  Ibsituu nods. “Come with me.”

  I walk beside her. Rows of long, one-story wooden buildings with sloping roofs that flick up at the corners stretch before me. Narrow wooden beams streak the wide windows, latticing each at firm right angles. A wide stone staircase marches toward a towering pagoda with brilliant red and gold walls. Serene statues of gods and goddesses sit along the paths, their legs folded and their hands posed gently before them with curving fingers. Traces of golden sunlight brush the brightening sky, and a crisp breeze ruffles my hair.

  A group of white-robed monks sit on the floor inside one of the houses, whose wide doors sit open. Their eyes all appear closed—they must be meditating. The sounds of soft, distant chanting trickle past my ears. Three women in blue robes—two that appear to be from the Empire and one with Western features—emerge from one of the pagodas and speak quietly among themselves. From the few words I catch, they seem to be discussing ancient spiritual teachings.

  A sense of calm surrounds the entire place, and I let out a contented sigh.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Ibsituu smiles at me. Following my gaze, she nods at the women in blue. “Their school of thought prizes tranquility. That’s why they dress in the color of the calm sky. Those of us who wear white and shave our heads follow teachings that value truth and simplicity. Though I like to keep a few pieces of my ancestral homeland with me.” She touches her beads. “While we are the largest group here, this temple is home to many philosophies, and everyone who comes is welcome to their own beliefs. The only rule is that we respect each other. I wasn’t looking for this temple when I first came to the Empire of the Pearl Moon, but once I arrived, I knew it would be a while before I left.”

  “Where did you come from?” I ask.

  “The answer to that is complicated. I was born in a place called Mwezi, a nation also named after the moon, though that’s not where my family originated. I left home to seek adventure and knowledge and to find new ways to improve my abilities. I spent a lifetime traveling across the Southern Continent and into what you call the West before I discovered Baiheshan Miao. I like to think it was destiny that brought me here.”

  “Mwezi.” I savor the new syllables and wonder what it must be like to live there. For a brief moment, I fantasize about traveling to the Southern Continent someday, but I stop myself when I remember that Lady Jiangzhu won’t be allowed to leave her husband’s palace, let alone the Empire.

  “I don’t know if I’ll stay here forever.” Ibsituu slides open the door to one of the buildings and steps over its high threshold. “No one’s destiny is set, no matter how certain it may seem.” She gives me a meaningful look as she says that, and I wonder if she somehow used her magic to see what I was thinking.

  I follow her into a wide room that reminds me of the houses back in Dailan, with its plain walls and large windows. She approaches the simple wooden table and settles down in the chair before it. Other than a wooden shelf holding a number of rolled-up scrolls, they’re the only furniture in sight. A long bundle wrapped in white cloth sits before her.

  Tai leans his staff against the wall. “Is that what I think it is?”

  Ibsituu nods. “I’ve all but completed it since I last saw you. Go ahead, unwrap it.”

  Tai unwinds the cloth to reveal a gleaming weapon of bronze and silver. Intricate patterns interwoven with winding symbols snake up the blade, glittering with magic. Even from here I can sense
the supernatural power pulsing within the metal. The wide cross-guard curves upward, and a bronze serpent spirals around the grip toward a gaping ring that looks just the right size for the River Pearl.

  That must be the enchanted sword that can defeat Mowang. My fingers itch to wield it. Though this is Tai’s quest, part of me hopes I’ll be the one to sink that blade into the wicked demon king.

  “It could destroy most supernatural evils as it is.” Ibsituu holds out her hand, and Tai passes the sword to her. “But not Mowang—yet.”

  She places the River Pearl in the ring at the end of the sword and cups both hands over it. Bowing her head, she closes her eyes and knits her brows with concentration. Sparks burst from her hands, but not the golden kind I’m accustomed to seeing; this magic is a brilliant blue, as if someone shattered the summer sky. They leap higher and higher before pouring into the weapon. A low hum fills the air as the sparks wind around the blade, and I can sense the power of the magic. A shiver frosts my skin.

  The sparks fade. Ibsituu sinks forward with a long exhale, resting her forehead on her hands, which still cup the pearl. I glance at Tai uncertainly. He furrows his brow—he’s as confused as I am.

  A moment later, she sits up, her eyes weary. “It is done.” She gestures at the sword. “A great evil is seizing this nation, and if it isn’t stopped, your people won’t be the only ones to suffer. Take the weapon. Drive it through Mowang’s heart—that will destroy his body.”

  Tai grips the hilt, staring in awe at the blade. “I don’t know how I could ever repay you.”

  “I don’t create such things for profit.” Ibsituu flicks her wrist dismissively. “Not anymore.” Seeing my questioning look, she continues, “Using magic to create has always been my passion. The more complex and intricate the spell or item, the better. Even if I don’t intend to use them myself, I enjoy making them.”

  I nod. Anshui once told me something similar.

  “When I was younger, I would create nearly anything for the joy of the challenge,” Ibsituu goes on. “People would come to me with requests and offers of lavish rewards, and I would accept if I found the project interesting, even though not everyone who sought me was the type I wanted to work for. Now I am more discerning, and I keep the true extent of my abilities quiet. To those outside the temple, I am but a simple monk with some knowledge of magic, and the others here respect my privacy enough not to question what I do with my time. I only reveal my power and offer my aid to those who deserve it—to heroes or those about to become heroes.” She turns to Tai. “I believe in your cause … and in you.”