Baiyren threw himself into a tight corkscrew to avoid incoming fire. Wind howled in his ears, mixing with the shrill whine of Zuishin’s missiles. The Rake’s narrow passes left little room for maneuvering. He banked left, his shoulder grazing a narrow tor. The impact brought a dull throbbing to his upper arm. He gripped it with his opposite hand. Was he wounded? Did he bleed?
The pain should have worried him, but he shrugged it off and accelerated. Deep inside, a small voice screamed out. A pilot didn’t feel his ship’s damage, not the blast of shells against its hull or the rain on its deck. But Baiyren wasn’t a pilot any more. He was rage in physical form, the one who judged, sentenced and punished. Tragedy had plagued Higo for too long. That was over now. A new day was coming, one of hope and peace and righteousness. His people would have salvation.
And he would deliver it.
He stared into the oncoming storm. Thought and reflex merged; his thoughts sped forward as if into the future, time slowing, his senses sharpening. He saw the approaching phalanx clearly, and moved to counter. Energy raced from his body in waves. Golden light arced over him, coalescing into a bright, protective orb. The first missile hit his newly constructed wall and disintegrated. The next followed its predecessor into oblivion, as did the rest.
The barrage ceased, and Baiyren used the lull to shoot forward. He accelerated through the Rake. Nothing but the receding speck in the distance mattered to him, the lean body, with its dark, bark-like armor and long, willowy limbs. He laughed grimly. This new power, this ability to shield himself, changed everything. No more wounds, no more scars. For the first time in his life, nothing could touch him. He was insulated, possibly invincible. A smile spread behind his golden faceplate. Higo didn’t have to suffer like he had. He would end tragedy, stop it before it began. He’d beaten Zuishin, and the fleeing armor didn’t even know it.
Unless it had a shield too.
He pondered the idea for a moment, slowing slightly as he flew. The valley ahead narrowed. He swept his arm wide, and the ridges on either side separated with a loud crack. What could Zuishin do? What weapons did it have? Defenses? What sort of power? He knew so little about it.
Until recently, he hadn’t known much about his own capabilities either. That came earlier today, the information slowly revealing itself like the room behind a cracked but stubborn door. Something about the long ignorance troubled him. Wielding and channeling his power into Higo’s rock, earth, and minerals was as natural and reflexive as breathing. Why hadn’t it always been so easy?
Another burst of incoming fire broke against him like windborne seeds. It swirled around and over him, lighted flecks without substance or power. He stared into the tempest, reveling in the barrier that deflected it. A barrier. Another barrier. How many would he encounter? He had one to save his life and one to keep him from living it. The more his thoughts roamed back in time, the foggier they became. Without your past, what were you? A small voice at the back of his head told him not to worry, told him to surrender.
Let go, it urged. Put the pain behind you. Rewrite who you are; step into the future unbound and unburdened. The words caressed him, wafting and clinging like the smoke billowing around his shield. Giving in would be so easy. He liked the idea. His heart spoke of tragedy and pain. Not remembering is a blessing. It’s what you’ve wanted.
Was it? He didn’t think so. Vaguely, he remembered fleeing from something, emotionally as well as physically. A face flashed behind his flickering eyelids, sweet and angelic with hazel eyes and a pert, upturned nose. Below, a pair of rosebud lips parted, but instead of words, hope passed through them, wafting from her mouth to his, filling him, calling him back.
The explosions roared on. He saw flames, ineffective against his shield, fall to earth and ignite. Riven ground yielded to smoldering fragments then burst into raging fires. His safety meant nothing if he alone survived.
The thought struck a chord within his new self. A corner of his heart knew how it felt to outlive loved ones, to be lost and adrift in a sea of loneliness. We won’t live like that again. We can’t.
No, Baiyren agreed. And neither would Higo, not when he had the power to prevent tragedy, the new and the ancient. He saw them both. His mother, his father, and a woman he didn’t recognize but somehow knew. Yellow flowers dotted hair the color of ivy, her olive skin shining in the light of searing fires. One moment she stood, the next she was gone, leaving a rending emptiness in her place.
He stared through the curling smoke, past ravines and broken mountains. He drew in a breath, and as his gaze landed on Zuishin, his subconscious bored into Higo. Thirty thousand feet below, rock and dirt trembled and fell. Avalanches tumbled into gorges to smother the fires before they could spread into the lush plains bordering the Rake.
Necessary, his other consciousness said. We can’t let the plains burn. Zuishin can revive the crops, but it knows we don’t have the ability.
Baiyren nodded grimly and turned to the northeast. The Ridderroque speared the sky like a finger pointing to heaven. Zuishin streaked through the atmosphere before it – far, but not far enough to outrun him. He readied his weapons. Power rolled through him. Emotion boiled his blood, and his senses sharpened. Space and time opened before him, and he felt as if he could touch the very roots of Higo.
His mind flashed back to Earth with its green forests, thick vegetation, tropical rains. Woodland was scarce on Higo. The plains couldn’t match what he’d seen in North America; they weren’t as rich or tall. Here, they grew, certainly, but not to the extent that they should. Higo’s plants seemed stunted in comparison. As if missing a key component of their molecular makeup.
A ruthless smile split his face. Zuishin might control the plants, but he held rock and soil. Without him, nothing would grow. With a thought, he shifted the ground under the Tatanbo Plains. Hard rock raced from the mountains, slivered fingers grasping for fertile soil, the following sheets threatening root and nourishing minerals.
Ahead, Zuishin looked over its shoulder. A few short miles from the Ridderroque, it pulled up sharply and doubled back.
That’s right Zuishin, Baiyren thought. Come and get me. Force me to stop! Not that he’d really let farms die. Starve his people? Out of the question.
Fortunately, Zuishin didn’t know that.
The other mah-zhin roared into the Rake with the force and speed of high winds. The loud whistling of incoming missiles filled the air. Long, evil-looking spears sprang from Zuishin’s willowy form. Sunlight shone on their smooth green surfaces, giving them the appearance of needles. Or thorns. Were they strong enough to pierce Baiyren’s new shield? He didn’t know, but the change from the smaller seedpods concerned him.
Rolling away, he dropped through the clouds. Visibility fell to nothing. Above, the scree of multiple objects preceded the whoosh of something large rocketing past. Baiyren fought the urge to look back, but his curiosity got the best of him. He turned his head and in the moment it took to glance behind, he flew into a patch of clear sky. A pillar of sunlight punched through the clouds, hit his metallic skin, and reflected in all directions. He might as well have fired a flare. Zuishin would know exactly where he was.
Already, he could see it trailing him, shredding clouds as if drinking the moisture. The sickly yellow light of the whip emanated from its fist like bioluminescent poison. Zuishin hurled it at him. The oozing light drew closer.
Baiyren pulled the great mace from his belt and slammed it down, severing the whip before it reached his unprotected ankle. The shield; he’d forgotten about the shield. Cursing, he quickly raised the orb and reset it about his body. A strange chill washed over him. He turned to see Zuishin watching him, the fire in its eyes burning coldly. In seconds, deep green light rippled around its body. The glow shimmered tentatively, a gossamer curtain more ethereal than solid. Yellow and lilac streaks slashed through the orb, and as Baiyren watched, the filmy layer brightened and hardened.
His heart sank. A shield. And Zuishin learned about it from him. He needed to be more careful. What one could do, the other could too. Power for power. Force against force. His mind whirled, searching for a strategy. What could he do that didn’t unleash devastation? Was that his weakness? His need to save as many as he could? Would Zuishin care? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to find out.
A flicker of movement pulled his attention back. He stole a glance and watched Zuishin lift its arm, lilac motes swirling around its opening palm. Energy bloomed in the air like spring flowers. Instead of sweet perfume, living bolts shot forward.
Baiyren accelerated through a narrow ravine. Conscious thought succumbed to instinct. Time slowed, and anything beyond the battle fell away. Spinning left, he swerved and came about. He raised his mace. Power vibrated from the pommel, climbing upward to the massive head. He slammed it into a nearby mountainside. The earth directly below shook. Cracks appeared, racing forward, touching the Rake’s sheer cliffs. Dust and ash flumed up to replace the shredded clouds. Rocks streaked past him. A sliver of blue sky widened as he approached. He shot through the gap and into clear daylight. Beyond, the Tatanbo Plain spread out before him, wide and flat, its grasses rippling in a slight breeze.
Zuishin still led him on. Debris concealed its flight as thoroughly as his, and although he couldn’t see the armor’s slender silhouette, he felt its presence. It knew what he’d done to the rock, and it mimicked his land-strike with one of its own. Rose-colored light erupted in the clouds. A ray plunged down like lightning. A second followed, then a third. The ground rumbled and cracked.
Baiyren fought to regain control of the breaking earth only to find he hadn’t lost it. The only changes were so subtle he almost missed them. Nutrients, like those feeding the plains, leached from the soil. Zuishin’s attacks had scattered seedpods throughout the mountains. Eyes widening, he cursed his stupidity. Without the thick rocky mantle, the seeds were free to grow. For the first time in centuries, trees and plants took root in what had been a forbidding and inhospitable landscape. A layer of green sprouted through cracks in the topsoil, rapidly spreading and thickening into a deep carpet.
Baiyren stared at the new growth, unable to look away. New life, so easily and so quickly created. Life endured, despite war and hardship. The idea lightened his heart and lifted his spirits. Hope filled him and before he realized what he was seeing, the grass knitted together into a series of massive ropes. Long and dense and shining with morning dew, they whipped upward.
The first wound around Baiyren’s shield, the followers reinforcing what the shield burned away. Together, they drew him down with lightning speed. His stomach lurched. Up and down switched places, and waves of dizziness threatened his consciousness. He tried to summon his weapons, but couldn’t concentrate long enough. Finally, mercifully, he slammed into the ground. The spinning stopped, and the jolt cleared his head. He looked about but saw nothing but the blackening vines and a sliver of rock where his shield split the mantle.
So, Zuishin used the plants to tie him down. An interesting strategy, but ultimately useless. Working swiftly, he sent energy bursts into his shield. Golden light radiated from him in searing waves. The vines withered and burst into flame, peeling back to give him a glimpse of the world beyond. Instead of tall, imposing mountains, a pair of saffron eyes stared at him from a beautiful face. Zuishin removed its faceplate to reveal delicate features, lips like carved roses, and a pert nose that gave Zuishin the look of an angel carved into a living redwood.
You attack my plains! Zuishin said, its voice a lyric contralto. First with fire and now with stone. With fire, Yohshin! How could you?
How could I? How could you? You destroyed Haven; you killed thousands of people! The thought flew from Baiyren’s mind before he could stop it. He regretted both the accusation and the childish tone.
Zuishin pulled back and looked away, the gesture disturbingly human. My spirit was… troubled. I have found peace. You will too, in time.
Spirit. Troubled. The words sent shivers through Baiyren. His subconscious reared up, but he smothered it before it took control.
You don’t know, do you? Zuishin’s carved features didn’t change, but confusion lined its face. It moved close to Baiyren’s shield, its wide eyes studying him. What have you done? it demanded. The mah-kai’s musical voice hollowed, the dull sound reminding Baiyren of wind through reeds. You’ve chosen the wrong spirit! We need to get to the Ridderroque and separate you as soon as possible.
The Ridderroque. Isn’t that where he planned to go? What was he doing here? What had changed? Baiyren cursed and shook his head. This was happening too fast. He didn’t know what to do. Should he go? What would happen if he did? To him. To Higo. He hadn’t trusted Zuishin before this; he shouldn’t trust it now. Throwing his power downward, he sent his thoughts into the planet.
He touched the heat in Higo’s molten core and ordered it to the surface. The ground shook violently, and the acrid smell of burning filled his nose. Grass and stunted trees roasted as great sections of the crust melted.
No, Yohshin. A pleading tone filled Zuishin’s voice. You’ve made a mistake. Think about what you’re doing! We would never use lava; Lord Roarke wouldn’t allow it.
Baiyren didn’t answer. Instead, he sent more power into Higo’s core until the vines holding him turned to ash. Free! he breathed, catapulting from the ruined mountain and spinning to face Zuishin. He hovered in space, waiting for the charge that never came.
Zuishin floated two thousand feet over the Rake, its head down, its shoulders slumping.
Shame raced through Baiyren like icy fingers, his triumphant escape slipped into darkness, and the image of a beautiful woman with flowers in her hair returned. He stared at Zuishin, wanting to hate it but unable to. It wasn’t the monster he always thought it would be. It almost seemed like it was trying to help him. What if Zuishin wasn’t the problem? What if he was? He pressed his palms to his temples to stop the world from spinning. The urge to run bubbled up from deep inside.
No, his other voice said. We can’t. We promised. A new face flashed before him, replacing the woman he vaguely knew. Light red hair, hazel eyes. Juno. She wants us to end the fighting. She believes in us. We can’t let her down.
Zuishin’s head snapped up, and its eyes became glowing slits. So that’s how it is, the mah-zhin muttered. Listen very carefully, king of Higo: Yohshin is using you. It needs your royal blood to escape its dormancy. You think you’re in control, but only because it wants you to. You need to come with me to the Ridderroque. Zuishin offered its hand. It’s the only way to free you both.
A sea of emotions rolled through Baiyren, some his, some from his other self. He leapt at Zuishin and swatted the hand away. Why should I believe you? You abducted someone too. How is that any different than what Yohshin did? Yohshin, he thought vaguely. How had he forgotten the name?
Zuishin shook its head sadly. We both lost a piece of our soul a long time ago.
You’re wrong. We work together for the greater good!
Zuishin’s lips curled into a desolate smile. That’s what you call this? We’ve divided the world. It’s up to us to put it back together – Yohshin and me. The two of us. Without you. You are yourself, free and whole and human. You know that, just as you know Yohshin won’t let you go. It can’t afford to. Try, and the mah-zhin will force you to obliterate everything you love.
Baiyren stiffened. His memories swirled. He saw his father throw himself from the castle walls, his mother’s broken body, his brother running from him in fear. Last of all, he saw the Heartstone lying against Juno’s skin. The stone pulsed as if alive, the sensation increasing, growing stronger. Coming closer. Dread fluttered in his stomach. He hefted his mace and pointed the head at Zuishin. I don’t believe you. You’re in my head. You’re reading my thoughts and using them against me!
I can no more see your thoughts than you can see mine. This is Yohshin’s doing. As I said, the mah-zhin will fight us; it has no other choice, not if it wants to remain free.
Without lowering the hammer, Baiyren glanced eastward. The Heartstone still thrummed in his head, louder now and nearer than before. Quickly, his inner voice urged. Finish this before she gets close.
Silence fell. Higo stilled, and eternity stretched before Baiyren. He didn’t know what to do. Who to trust. The remaining grass had blossomed. Dull leaves gave way to vibrant green, and colorful flowers covered what had been barren. Saplings sprouted from the earth, their branches reaching not toward heaven but toward Zuishin. The mech barely noticed; it floated in place, waiting for Baiyren to make up his mind.
If only he could. Fear’s icy tendrils twisted, ropelike, around his psyche to bind him. He couldn’t think, couldn’t move. His life had been a series of bad choices and now he had to make another. People died whenever that happened, people he loved. Was this Juno’s turn? He curled his hands into fists.
No. Zuishin offered him a way out. A way without violence. So what if that meant surrendering at the Ridderroque? No one else had to be there, no one else would be at risk. They’d be alone.
Nodding to himself, he formed the words in his head and was about to accept Zuishin’s proposal, when another consciousness burst from the dark corners of his mind to smother him.
Liar! Yohshin’s voice sounded in the silence, each syllable loud, trembling, and discordant. I will find no healing at the Ridderroque; it’s just another prison. You can’t believe I would follow you back there. You just want to cage me again. Yohshin’s thoughts flew from its body and drilled into the soil. Rock columns shot from the ground in response, as thick as castle keeps and far taller. More came, pillar after pillar, their line bending and arching until they fenced in the battlefield. I won’t let that happen. Higo is mine!
Without warning, Yohshin seized one of the columns and launched it.
That’s not for you to decide, Zuishin countered, easily dodging the incoming strike. We’re protectors, not rulers.
We’re slaves to a power that’s turned its back on us. You say I’ve taken the wrong soul, and maybe I have. But Higo’s king knows the burden of living for others; he also knows what it means to be free. No responsibilities. No cares and no pain. Why can’t we have that too? Why are we any different?
Baiyren groaned inwardly. He’d been right; this was his fault. He should have listened to his instincts and abandoned the mah-zhin the first time it overrode his control. Now it was too late; the armor held him; he was a prisoner in his own mind. No matter where he went, conflict would follow. Zuishin was his only way out; he had to go to the Ridderroque.
How though? Yohshin had turned him into an observer. He could still think independently, and his senses still worked. He still smelled the smoke-filled air, still felt gravity’s futile tugging at the mah-zhin’s heels. But he was as helpless as the forces Yohshin defied. Nothing he did slowed the armored suit. His commands dissipated like mist, his control severed, his life shrinking into obscurity.
Outside, time moved without him. Yohshin hurled more pillars at Zuishin, ten to twenty at a time, each slamming into Zuishin’s shield and exploding. Rocky fragments burst open like spring flowers, their fiery tails streaking the sky as they fell. In response, the plants below turned their leaves over. Wide pores opened on fronds hundreds of feet wide and nearly twice as long. A loud hiss filled the air, louder even than the rumbling earth. Water vapor rolled from them like rising clouds, thick, dense, and wet enough to douse the incoming fire. Without the flames, the showering rock fell harmlessly into the ravine, the thick vegetation slowing and cushioning the debris like mesh netting.
Zuishin zigzagged through the flying wreckage, arms outstretched, its hands splayed. Fine dust flew from its opened palms, mixing with the air and passing through Yohshin’s shield. Dimly, Baiyren noted a slow burn in his lungs. Yohshin convulsed, its vision dimmed, and the world around seemed to drop and spin.
Vertigo. Baiyren had experienced it several times – the dizziness, the confusion. Usually, the feeling came when under stress: when his brother betrayed him and joined the church, after his mother’s death. And Regan’s. This time, the sensation didn’t start with him; Zuishin’s attack caused it, and for the first time since he merged with Yohshin, fear and uncertainty rippled through the mah-zhin’s consciousness.
You didn’t expect it to just roll over, did you? Baiyren grunted. Though he didn’t utter the words, imagination put a rasp into them. Zuishin’s going to fight; I hope you’re ready, because right now, I’m not all that impressed.
Still learning, Yohshin gasped. Its body dropped a few feet. And then a few more. Little by little, the mah-zhin lost altitude. Didn’t know about the shield… until today. Will get better.
When? Baiyren pressed. After it defeats you? You let it poison us.
Better than… surrender. Won’t let it rule Higo. Can’t. Have to stop it.
Baiyren snorted. Stop it? You’ve barely slowed it, and only then because it wanted to talk. Since this battle started, Zuishin’s almost beaten you, not once, but twice. The second attack might be all Zuishin needed, especially if they didn’t pull out of freefall. You’ve never faced an opponent like Zuishin. If that mah-zhin can fully synchronize with its pilot, or spirit, or whatever you call it, then we’re at a disadvantage. A mile ahead, Zuishin came about for a second strafing run, arms outstretched, palms facing Yohshin. You have to let me out so I can help you. It’s our only chance.
Their fall continued, the mountains on either side becoming amorphous gray blurs. Shadows deepened, though not enough to obscure the ground below. Baiyren noted the increasing clarity, the ruined boulders strewn about the valley floor, and the enormous trees shooting through newly emergent fissures. They grew as he watched – one hundred feet. Three. Five. At eight hundred, they exploded upward, closing in, heading for Yohshin.
All right, the mah-zhin rasped. But don’t even think of betraying me. If you surrender to Zuishin, I’ll sever the link and throw you right back into the dark. Do you understand?
Baiyren nodded. Yes… yes, of course. We do this together… on one condition.
Yohshin stiffened What is it?
If Zuishin is right, and we can’t fully synchronize, then we shouldn’t try. We can stay separate and still work in tandem. We’ll be more effective that way, and we’ll stop fighting each other.
Agreed. But don’t fool yourself into believing this is permanent.
Instantly, the link between Baiyren and the mah-zhin lessened. Baiyren’s senses sharpened, and he regained control. He noted Zuishin’s poison in Yohshin’s lungs, but the dust, so toxic to Yohshin, barely affected him. He nodded knowingly. What killed one life sometimes nourished another; he’d seen it time and again as a scientist. Drawing a deep breath, he cleansed Yohshin’s body. Power returned, flowing to his wrists, swirling around the armor in alternating silver, black, and bronze. He raised his hand and fired at the incoming vines.
Light lanced down; wood shattered, their splinters bursting into flame. Some shot toward him, glancing off his armor as he wheeled around and soared out of the deep valley and toward the mountaintops. At twenty thousand feet, he slowed and scanned the landscape. The damage didn’t look as bad from here and, apart from a stream of black smoke, Higo seemed calm. As he turned to the northeast, he spotted a solitary figure silhouetted against the heavens. Zuishin’s eyes sparkled in that smooth and beautiful face, watching him with a mixture of curiosity and wonder. Did it know what he’d accomplished? Did it understand? He wanted to ask, knowing he couldn’t, not without revealing the deception to Yohshin. All he could do was stare at the other mah-zhin and hope against hope it knew what to do.
Slowly, agonizingly, Zuishin moved. The nearly imperceptible drop of its chin could either represent a nod or a show of respect. Baiyren couldn’t be sure if it was either. Frustrated but hopeful, he held his position and waited as Zuishin spun away. A small white transport had appeared on the horizon, streaking toward the Ridderroque, carrying the Heartstone.
No! Yohshin roared. Zuishin is after the stone. We have to stop it! Don’t you understand? The Heartstone is our connection to God. He’s been dormant forever. He’s waking now. We can’t let Zuishin have it.
Give me all the speed you can, Baiyren commanded. We’ll intercept Zuishin by the moat. He pointed at the wide ring surrounding the Ridderroque’s roots and fought a satisfied smile. That was far enough from the mountain to ease Yohshin’s concerns, but close enough to lure it in once the battle started. Hope leaped in his heart only to die when his gaze fell on the distant transport. Juno, he thought, carefully shielding his mind. I’m going to do it; I’m going to end this just as I promised. I’ll need you to be there when this is over. Don’t you die on me before then. Understand?
The wind howled in reply, a mournful wailing that intensified as Yohshin accelerated toward the solitary mountain.