Flying Swords 12 (Patreon)

Why does everything I write turn into such a complex universe. I know who did this. I know why they did this. I know how they did this… but I have no idea how my characters are going to figure any of this out because their enemy is clever.

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Chapter Twelve

“Creek!” Leander ran to his side, slipping a hand under his neck to ease his crumbled position. He was sweaty and pale, his eyelids fluttering and his breathing weak.  “Creek!”  He didn’t respond at all.  Leander looked around wildly, as if expecting to see whatever attacker had felled Creek, but in every direction, there were only flowers–orange and pink and yellow.  The closest house was more than a hundred yards away, and the windows were shuttered and vines had grown over them.

For a moment, Leander was frozen, but then common sense sent him dashing back toward the town. He needed help, and he had found only one person who would help him. Two if he counted Heng, but he was an acolyte, and Leander would have to talk his way past legions of lower-level acolytes and servants to reach him. Creek would be dead by then.

Hiking his robes up to his waist so his pants were obscenely visible, Leander practically flew down the hill, allowing gravity to pull him along dangerously fast. He just focused on keeping his feet under his body long enough to take the next step. A woman stepping out of her front door yelped in surprise when Leander nearly knocked her over, but he didn’t do more than shout an apology over his shoulder as he charged toward Auntie Daiyu’s house.

By the time he climbed the three steps to her front door, his chest hurt and he gulped air hungrily.  Ignoring the pain, he pounded on her door. He tried to shout her name, but he couldn’t get his lungs to cooperate.  Despite the real threat of curses and lethal security, Leander pulled the door open, surprised it was not locked.

Auntie Daiyu was in her manicured garden, the double doors allowing sunlight and the scent of flowers into the grand reception room. She took one look at his face and got up from her knees.

“Lian. What is wrong?”

“Xi.  He’s… he’s been poisoned.”  It was the only explanation, but saying the word aloud unlocked a terror that clawed at Leander’s ribs. It scraped him raw and stole his breath.

“Where?” Auntie Daiyu asked.

“The hills.”  Leander lurched back in surprise as Auntie Daiyu flew at him. Literally.  She caught his hand as she passed, her robes flowing around her as she soared out the door.  She was graceful, but Leander caught his left arm and both shins on the doorframe as she dragged him out of the house.  

“Which direction?” she demanded.

Leander pointed.  This time he was less startled when she hauled him higher into the air.  His whole body tingled, the sensation strongest where she held him, and then they began soaring above the town.  Or Auntie Daiyu was soaring; Leander was being dragged in her wake like a rowboat tied to a yacht as it cut through the waves.  In seconds, they had reached the hills, and Auntie Daiyu floated down. Leander seemed to rediscover gravity a few feet above the ground, and he lost his grip on her hand, tumbling to the earth.

The donkey was still there, lazily eating flowers.  Creek was still there, lying in the pasture. Auntie Daiyu was there, kneeling at Creek’s side. Leander saw these things, but his mind recorded details without being able to think about them. He was cut off from anything other than the ability to watch as she pressed her ear to his chest and pressed her fingers to various points on his body. She slipped her arms under his knees and shoulders and lifted him as easily as one might an infant.

“I cannot hold you both, so you must hold my waist,” she told him.

Leander blinked at her.

“Lian!”

He jerked himself into movement, wrapping an arm around her waist. Despite being a tiny, white-haired woman, she held Creek easily and rose into the air. Again, the tingling flowed through Leander, this time so sharply that it burned, but he held on as they soared through the air.  The wind whipped his eyes and made tears stream down his face, but he still watched as they approached the Flying Swords school set high on the hills. The traditional structure was much larger than it appeared from town, and Auntie Daiyu landed outside the gates, taking a few running steps before slowing to a walk, Creek still in her arms.

“I can carry him,” Leander offered.

She snorted.  “Knock on the door.”

“No need.” The huge double doors swung open and a man in a dull yellow robe stood there. He had salt and pepper hair, a pock-marked face and a surprised expression. “Elder Daiyu, we are honored with your presence.”

“Move out of the way Master Teacher Wang, or I will kick you in the shins. I need a bed, a doctor, and a purgative of some sort. He has been poisoned, and since those in the school study such things, I assume you are the best chance of saving his life.” She strode forward, Creek in her arms, and the man quickly moved from her path.

This was Master Teacher Wang–the most honored and powerful person in the village, and Auntie Daiyu treated him… well, like she treated everyone. 

“I welcome you to our school,” Master Teacher Wang said. Auntie Daiyu was already inside, and Leander had followed her to the threshold, so technically he was already in the school. Master Teacher Wang had an amused expression that suggested he understood he had little choice in whether to welcome them. Leander might have enjoyed his discomfort, only he was too shocked to note anything but the enormous landscape set in front of him. To the left was a sea that did not exist outside this house, and in the distance, majestic mountains dominated the horizon.  The area where the doors to the outside world stood was a round pasture lined with flowers, but beyond that, a forest lined the slopes of the hillside and a path led down into the valley.  On another hill opposite that valley stood a palace.

Auntie Daiyu had already taken to the sky, Creek in her arms.

Master Teacher Wang waved a hand, and the doors swung shut with a boom and the ringing of a distant bell that tolled solemnly.  “Come,” he said, and he took Leander by the arm. The now-familiar tingle and burn filled him, and they were airborne, soaring after Auntie Daiyu.

Under them, the dark forest whispered secrets to Leander, most of which he couldn’t understand. It spoke of creatures that crept through the shadows and flew between the trees, but they were fantastical creatures that Leander could not identify given that the trees knew only how the claws felt when they dug into the bark.

The ocean shimmered and the mountains cast dark shadows over distant valleys, but Leander focused on the palace and the ring of city that surrounded it.  The place was clean and the roads set out like spokes on a wheel, but every ounce of space was claimed.  Buildings were set within inches of each other.  The only plants were the small trees inside the courtyards or the vines that clung to the brick. The streets were too narrow and too shadowed for even weeds.

They flew over the ring city in seconds, crossed over the tall wall of the palace, and floated down onto the stone courtyard.  The bright red walls of the building had symmetrically placed doors, and Auntie Daiyu hurried up the stairs to the largest pair.

“I will summon the doctors,” Master Teacher Wang said, although he made no move to do so. He followed Auntie Daiyu into a large room with pillars at the sides, each carved with fantastic creatures–dragons and phoenixes and even the qilin that Shanlin had been so fascinated by.  Shanlin.

A new panic rolled through Leander. “Someone might be after us. I have to get to Shanlin.” He turned to rush back out of the hall, but Master Teacher Wang caught him in an inhumanly strong grip.

“I will send Acolyte Heng to retrieve the boy. He is in no danger.”

“No danger?” Leander’s voice broke.

“No danger,” Master Teacher Wang said with such confidence that an artificial calm crept over Leander. He blinked and then snarled at the manipulation.

Auntie Daiyu cackled. “It would serve you right if he punched you. His qidi is ill and his child is far from him. Not everyone has given up all worldly connections as you have.”

Master Teacher Wang bowed to Auntie Daiyu before considering Leander. “My apologies. I only hoped to soothe your turbulent spirit.”

A man in a red robe with an ornate basket over one shoulder hurried into the room and pushed Auntie Daiyu away from Creek. “When did he fall ill?” he asked, his voice sharp as he pressed his hands to Creek’s head.

“We were going out to collect ginseng, and he revealed a new aspect of his power–the ability to change the appearance of an item, either lightening or darkening it,” Leander said.

“What did he eat this morning?” the doctor's hands moved down Creek’s prone body.

“Porridge.”

“Did anyone else eat from the same pot?”

“Myself and my son.” Now Leander was terrified that Shanlin could be ill. He looked at Auntie Daiyu with panicked eyes, silently begging her to go get the boy.

Her eyes were full of sympathy, but she did not move.

“Did he eat or drink anything else?”

“No,” Leander said. “We had only recently left the house.”

“Where did you go after you left?” 

“We went to Master Yang. He asked me to harvest only ginseng and provided the donkey and a sturdy basket. We were walking in the hills when Hu Xi collapsed.”  Leander had nearly given the doctor Creek’s real name, but the fewer people who knew it, the better. He would be in significant legal trouble if they were caught, so Leander had to protect his identity at all costs.

“What was he touching when he collapsed? A plant, perhaps? A twining vine?”

“No,” Leander said, “and if there were a poisonous plant anywhere near us, I would have known it. Those plants have a sharpness and aridity in their aura that warns creatures to stay away.”

The doctor finally looked at Leander, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “You can feel the nature of a plant?”

Auntie Daiyu answered for him. “Western magical users can perform fantastic magics, but the cost is the ability to perform even minor tasks unrelated to that one skill.  You are asking about heartbreak grass.”

“Yes,” the doctor said, “a powerful elixir using the vine as the most critical part.  Someone with a poison this powerful would likely have created an antidote, so if we can know who administered the dose, we can find the pill that will counter the effects.”

“He drank nothing. He ate nothing that the rest of us did not also eat!” Leander was embarrassed that his voice was rising in distress. “If we can’t find someone with an antidote, how do we make one?”

The doctor tutted for a second, looking down at Creek who was barely breathing. “To make such a powerful pill would require at least two days of concerted effort, and your friend will not survive that long.” He said it with the same tone that another might report on the weather.  Homicidal rage poured through Leander. The trees in the courtyard rustled as his magic reached for every living plant within reach.

“There is another way,” Auntie Daiyu said.

The doctor gave her a condescending look. “I assure you, there is not. I am sorry, but all I can do is ease his passing.”

Auntie Daiyu turned to Master Teacher Wang. “Get a heartbreak grass plant. Bring it here as soon as possible.”

“En,” Master Teacher Wang said, but again, he didn’t move.  

Auntie Daiyu turned to Leander. “You know plants.”

Leander frowned, not understanding the statement. It was true, but irrelevant.

“You can strengthen the properties of plants and make potions, can you not?”

“They’re called drugs, not potions, but yes,” Leander said, looking around to see if anyone else understood her questions, but Master Teacher Wang and the doctor both looked confused.

“Then you can recognize the elements of a plant, the sap, the juice?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” she said. “Then you will study the heartbreak grass and identify the poison. Then you will call that poison out of Hu Xi’s body.”

“What?” Leander took a step back, distancing himself from such an insane idea.

“That is not possible,” the doctor said. He shook his head so fast that his weird black hat bobbed around.

“For us, it is not,” Auntie Daiyu agreed.  “However, western magic is different. Boon Lian is incapable of many tasks from cleaning his own clothing to flying, but his skill with plants is unmatched. He can do this.”

“No,” Leander said, “I can’t. I’ve never even tried something like this. We have to find another solution.”

“There is no other solution. You either succeed in this task or your qidi dies,” Auntie Daiyu said. Up to this point, Leander would have said she had a good heart, but right now he considered her a raging bitch. A man ran in from the courtyard, a plant clutched in his arms. He bowed to Master Teacher Wang and then the doctor.

“I have brought the heartbreak grass you have called for.” He pushed the vine forward. It was stinging with distress, roots ripped from its home, many broken and bleeding. Leaves had been torn off and the plant dripped with toxins.  The man set the plant on the ground, bowed again, and then retreated to the shadows.

“You can do this,” Auntie Daiyu said. “You are one with the plants in a way we cannot emulate. Learn the poison. Call it out of your qidi’s veins.”  She gestured to the plant.  “Or accept that his death is part of the tapestry and welcome his journey to the next path.”

Leander snarled at her, but he ran his palm over the plant’s dark green leaves, each shaped like a spear. Like all poisonous plants, it had a sharpness and bitterness that leached into the air, and Leander touched a broken stem, feeling the exact nature of that pricking poison.  He sank into himself, letting his magic dance with the plant so that he would know the feel from a half-mile away.  As he sank into the magic, his fears vanished and he existed only in the moment. 

Someone touched his hand, and he began to surface, but then he was touching something warm, and Leander felt the plant’s poison sunk deep into the unfamiliar tissue.  Leander was distantly aware that this was Creek, and he had to call the poison out, but that was a faint concern. All that existed was the plant and this new awareness of that familiar poison running through a strange landscape.

Leander had never been aware of an animal’s existence the way he was with plants, but he could feel the poison that travelled through his body, revealing rivers and streams of blood that flowed in pulsing bursts.  He pulled at the poison, and he had a sensation of movement around him.

“Continue,” a voice whispered in his ear. It was full of command, and Leander dare not disobey. He pulled at the poison again. And again. And again. It resisted, struggling to remain in the body, but Leander would not allow that.  He called it out, demanded that it listen to him until the network of blood that had been so visible to him slowly faded from his awareness as it no longer contained the poison.

“Enough,” the powerful voice commanded, and Leander blinked, falling away from the magic that had held him in thrall.  Terror sent him scrambling away as Creek lay on her side, covered in blood and sweat and yellow bile that stained his clothing. The doctor was pushing pills into Creek's mouth, and Master Teacher Wang knelt next to Creek, his hands pressing against Creek’s back.

“I killed him,” Leander cried in horror.

Auntie Daiyu caught his arm before he could flee.  “You have given him his only chance of survival.”

A near-hysterical burst of laughter slipped out before Leander could bury it beneath layers of guilt.  This was not the first murder he’d carried out, after all. Life was cheap. He knew that. Auntie Daiyu’s hand tightened on his arm, and since Leander could not flee, he sank to his knees as the doctor and Master Teacher Wang levitated Creek from the room, still stained with bodily fluids and rasping every breath.