CHAPTER TWENTY
NUISANCES
Taishi wandered lost through the tunnels of Sanba for more than an hour before she finally found the Desert Trade Post. It hadn’t helped that the streets in the city were poorly lit and had signposts only at the larger intersections, not to mention everyplace she went looked exactly like the one she had come from. Maybe she should have taken up Chown’s offer and bought a map.
The city, while not particularly wide or long as commanderies went, was shockingly tall, going quite a way up and down the cliffside. The trading post was not only at the far southern edge, but also fifteen levels below the mapmaker’s shop. Taishi may have been a master war artist, but she hated stairs as much as the next person. By the time she reached the trading post, night had fallen. She hadn’t realized how late it was. Time was nothing but numbers when you were underground.
The first thing Taishi noticed when she neared the trading post was the wind. It crept up on her, howling a sharp, high-pitched shriek that got gradually louder until she couldn’t hear anything else. The entrance of the trading post led into a massive cavern with tall ceilings and walls far enough away she had to squint to see them. A thin layer of sand swirled around her feet, blowing in from outside. Taishi had hardly taken a few steps when she passed a large stone gateway carved directly into the rock leading out of the city. She stopped mid-step as a wave of agoraphobia washed over her.
Taishi had expected to see a forest outside the trading post at the cliff’s base, Fulkan Forest being just on the other side of a squiggly line on Chown’s map, but instead she was met with a desert that stretched as far as she could see. Not only that, it looked alive. Immense sand dunes rose and fell, like ocean waves crawling slowly across the landscape. She witnessed two rolling waves slamming and merging with each other, butting against each other and rising into a giant wall before toppling over. It was beautiful.
And terrifying.
And she had to cross it. Taishi wasn’t a coward by any means, but there was a vast difference between fighting men and fighting nature. She would wade into a battle against a hundred enemies with barely any consideration for safety, but the thought of wandering in that vastness made her soul quiver.
“What happened to the trees?” she wondered aloud.
A caravan owner passing by shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”
Taishi pointed outside. “This is Fulkan Forest? Where’s the forest? Where are the trees and the bushes and the weeds?”
The man laughed. “Sorry, mistress. Fulkan Forest is on the other side of the Sand Snake, about three, maybe two days east if you have a good driver.”
“I thought it was just a river.”
“It is, in a way.” His smile broadened when he saw her eyes go buggy. “First time surfing the Snake, eh? It’ll be memorable. I hope you survive.”
The very thought of having to pass through the hurricane made Taishi reconsider all her plans, first of which was crossing that hellscape. It took her a few moments to finally bully her spine stiff. A woman who had defeated some of the greatest war artists in the land should have no problem crossing this—she looked out again—terrifying ocean of giant sand tidal waves.
“You used to be afraid of heights too,” she muttered.
Taishi turned her attention back to the trading post. It was surprisingly busy for this time of night. Dozens of guards, drivers, and team bosses buzzed around their large caravans. Nine-wagon sleighs were currently lined up in neat rows while a few more were pulling in and departing through a large opening on the far side. She soon learned that the majority of the caravans did most of their travel during these hours. When she inquired with a caravan boss why that was the case, she was given vague answers and amused smirks. It had something to do with the heat during the daytime, but also how it was easier to navigate using the stars, not just the Celestial Family.
She passed by the rows of giant sleighs laden with supplies, some as tall and wide as a house, each in different stages of preparation. On one side of the port, luxury goods were being off-loaded: Sacks of spices, several species of serpent and dragon skins, assorted colored vials, cut gems, and beautiful, colored glassware were being pulled from incoming wagons by porters and carefully transported to holding areas. On the other, rations and gourds of water and other supplies were being loaded onto outbound caravans. Taishi approved of how orderly and efficient things were. She passed the loading area and approached a counter where several caravan bosses were waiting to speak with the portmasters working behind booths. Taishi joined the back of one line as it inched forward. It took a good ten minutes for each boss to get processed, and there were still many ahead of her.
Taishi could count on her good hand the number of times in the last twenty years she had had to wait in a line. This was probably how things usually went in these trading posts, since many of the bosses were prepared, having brought stools and drinks with them. Several were clustered in small groups sharing stories and bartering.
After twenty minutes, Taishi decided to cut to the front. She wasn’t trying to register her caravan, she just needed information. She ignored the angry glares as she passed each boss, and offered a weak nod in apology to a dusty sand-swept woman in a heavy turban whose turn was next. The woman’s eyes flickered down to Taishi’s sword resting at her waist, noting how easily it rested at her side and moved with ease with her, as if an extension of her body. She stood aside. Taishi’s father had often said that a weapon and its wielder were like intimate dance partners. The way you moved with a weapon on your person was often a forecast of your skill with it.
“Excuse me, portmaster,” Taishi said in her friendliest voice. “I need to book passage southeast. Could you please point me to the passenger carriages?”
The portmaster raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down. “You must be a ruck, or a really foolish and poor noblewoman.”
Taishi had no idea what either meant. “That sounds very plausible.”
“No carriages ferry passengers through the Sand Snake,” replied the portmaster. “The only way to cross is to get your own sleigh or attach with a caravan.”
“Simple enough,” Taishi said, beaming. “Where can I book passage with a caravan? I’ll need someone who can read shifting maps.”
The portmaster pointed lazily behind her. “All these people who you just cut in front of can help. Now step aside. Next.”
Taishi craned her head behind her and saw a row of angry faces. She stepped aside for the woman with the turban to pass, and then began working the line. She inquired about buying passage on the caravans with every single waiting boss and was duly turned down by each one. Most weren’t heading in that direction. Some refused outright to even speak to her. The few who did quoted her outrageous prices for what should have been only a two-day trip.
One muscular dark-skinned man crossed his arms. “I doubled the price because you cut in line.”
“Hah, that’s what I did too,” said a bald woman she had asked previously.
“Ask me next, woman.” A bearded man waved farther back in line. “I’ll triple it.”
“I only had to ask a question,” Taishi sputtered. “It just took a few seconds.”
“It was two questions,” the portmaster piped up.
“Well,” the dark-skinned boss added, “I just spent the past four days locked down in a desert hurricane, and I still had to wait in line. What makes you so special?”
“The two worst sins in the sand are stealing a caravan’s steeds and cutting in line at an outpost,” someone shouted. “That’s the trade life.”
“Trade life,” several echoed.
The price for passage grew more outrageous with every subsequent person she asked. No one wanted to sell passage to a line-cutter.
Taishi thought she had caught a lucky break when a new boss, unaware of her line-cutting ways, joined the back of the line. His face was clean and his robes weren’t sanded, a good sign that he was on his way out. She approached him and spoke in a husky voice. “Hey, handsome boss, can you read a shifting map?”
The young boss, sunken eyes and high cheekbones, appeared a little delicate for this line of work. He looked confused. “Yes. Why do you ask?”
“I need to book passage southeast toward Manki. Are you headed that way?”
He nodded. “As a matter of fact I am, first thing in the morning.”
“Can I book passage on your caravan?”
The young boss shrugged. “I don’t see why not. I could use the extra coin.”
“She’s a line-cutter,” the bald woman called.
A hefty older boss picked up a fistful of sand and hurled it at them. “Learn some manners, fresh fish.”
The young boss looked confused at the angry faces. “I’m just—” He ate a mouthful of sand. More drivers joined in, showering them from every direction. It didn’t take long for the young man to rescind his offer.
Taishi gave up for the night. This gaggle of stuck-up sand skimmers would make sure she wouldn’t find a caravan willing to take her on. Her only hope was to try again tomorrow with a new group. Unless they put her picture up on some line-cutting board.
Taishi exited the trading post, dragging her feet in defeat. She passed by an inn just outside the entrance and considered taking a bed here. It was late. Her back desperately wanted to lie down while her feet begged for a tub to soak in. One peek inside, however, told her this was where all the caravans stayed in between their trips. She had received enough of their mockery for the time being, and decided to find other lodging.
Taishi began the slog back up the fifteen flights of stairs to the mapmaker’s shop. Maybe she could find a cheap hostel, or maybe even a clean alleyway. Better to save her dwindling money for food than use it on a smelly pallet, though she did wonder if Chown’s claims about rats were actually true.
Taishi was about halfway back to Chowan’s when she first sensed it, a presence. She casually looked back the way she had come, but saw nothing other than shadows flickering in the torchlight. She continued on to the next turn. As soon as she did, Taishi flattened against the wall and pulled the currents from that tunnel to her. At first she heard nothing. No footsteps or breathing. Her instincts rarely failed her. She waited a few moments longer, and sure enough there came a nearly imperceptible but unmistakable sound: a light pop. Air rushing to fill a vacuum. It was a sound Taishi had heard only a few times in her life.
Only one thing made that sound.
Taishi scanned the darkened corners of the stairwell. A lone sconce was the only thing keeping her from being shrouded in complete darkness. She scanned the stairs and noticed an exit three levels up. Taishi launched herself into the air, clearing the first flight in one leap, then the next two in two each. Muffled cries of alarm echoed from below. Footsteps soon followed, three sets by the sound of it.
Taishi burst out of the stairwell and entered a curved stone pathway. She wouldn’t be able to outrun her pursuers, and these tunnels were a poor place to make a stand. Her best chance of survival would be to get aboveground, or at the very least out beneath the sky where she would have room to maneuver. Taishi broke into a sprint, reaching the end of the tunnel and entering what appeared to be one of the main passages. Fortunately, a faded sign above the entrance showed her which direction led to the gorge. Unfortunately, the way was a steep uphill climb. At least this area was better lit than the smaller tunnels.
Taishi pumped her arm and legs as hard as she could, feeling every bit her age. She had barely made it a few steps when she heard the popping sound again. This time it was a slightly lower pitch: air suddenly and violently being ejected outward. A shadow streaked toward her flank. She twisted aside, barely ducking beneath it as it passed. Another came at her from the other side. Off balance, Taishi managed to avoid this one as well, but her robe was not as fortunate, a gash appearing just below her armpit as it passed. Still another shadow came, this time charging her head-on.
Taishi sidestepped and spun, kicking into soft flesh. Her assailants were unarmored. She was awarded with a pained grunt as black wisps dissipated around a man’s body. He rolled gracefully out of his fall and onto his feet, his face scrunched in pain. It was the handsome young caravan boss she had tried to book passage from earlier. He drew a curved saber as the last of the black wisps, like steam, evaporated off his body.
“Cockroaches,” she snarled as the three shadowkills circled around her in the poorly illuminated hallway. Between the low air currents down here in the tunnels and the cramped space, this fight was a riskier and more tenuous situation than she would have preferred.
Shadowkills were expert assassins and infiltrators who employed a twisted sort of war art that poisoned the body, but gave them the ability to move through darkness. Not much was known about them, except they were relentless contract killers that operated under an umbrella group known as the Consortium, which may or may not have been a cult; no one really knew. Shadowkills were expensive to employ. Under the lunar court it was said that if a client hired a shadowkill to mark you, you probably deserved it.
Taishi had crossed paths with these expert killers on a few occasions, twice working alongside them. She honestly couldn’t say which end of their blade she preferred. If it were up to her, she’d avoid them altogether. In her opinion, cults and capitalism made for an awful combination. Shadowkills had very annoying and strange rules of operation.
“You could have just sold me passage,” Taishi muttered as the three circled her.
“Oh, trust me, I tried,” he replied. “The caravan bosses saved you.” That was likely true; she owed those jackasses her life.
The three came at her again, but Taishi was ready for them now. The key to surviving shadowkill battles was surviving the incredibly dangerous opening attack. Without the advantage of surprise, shadowkills were generally merely competent war artists.
By Taishi’s standards, that meant they were dead. She easily dodged their attacks, flowing between their thrusts and kicks, striking out with the backs of her hands on the handsome one’s face, slamming an elbow on an uglier man’s face, then kicking a pretty woman’s chest to send her flying.
“Give up and run back into the shadows, cockroaches,” she mocked.
Taishi didn’t mean for them to take her advice literally. Handsome caravan boy dove toward a shadowed area underneath one of the sconces. Before he could disappear into the darkness or whatever it was shadowkills did, Taishi surged forward and caught his face with her fist. His head snapped to the side and his eyes rolled to the back of his head as he toppled headfirst onto the floor.
The other two tried to come to his aid, but Taishi spun and stopped them in their tracks with just a look. Competent war artists knew when they were outmatched. “Maybe you should just surrender—”
There was a very light puff sound and Taishi caught a flash of a black streak out of the corner of her eye. She just barely blocked a knife thrust and spun to parry a second attack. The exchange continued for several seconds as this new shadowkill pushed Taishi out of position, forcing her to cede ground, backing her into a corner. This shadowkill was noticeably quicker and stronger than the others, the movement of their jing more powerful and refined.
After a protracted exchange, Taishi finally managed to break away and reset the battle. The wisps of darkness drifted off the shadowkill’s body to reveal a young woman with pale, powdered skin, a sharp nose, and painted eyebrows. Her dark-red hair was ear-length except for two long wisps that curled along her youthful cheeks down to her chin, which made it look like she had fangs.
Taishi took stock of this new threat. There was something unsettling about the girl’s yellow eyes, a wildness that glimmered in the lantern’s light. That was when it hit her: This girl was relishing this fight, maybe even aroused. Taishi deeply understood love for battle, but her joy was in the practice of her war arts. This one enjoyed violence.
The young woman smirked. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting the legendary Ling Taishi for a long time. I grew up on stories of you. I even had a doll.” She cocked her head to one side. “I wonder if your head will snap off as easily as hers did.” She twirled black knives in her hands and then, humming, advanced on Taishi. The remaining two shadowkills followed close behind.
Taishi’s war artist heart yearned to test her skill against this new shadowkill, but her war artist head urged prudence. In battle, it was always wisest to listen to the head over the heart. Instead of engaging, Taishi broke away and fled. The odds had now turned against her, and winning this skirmish earned her nothing.
One of the lesser shadowkills, the remaining man, tried to block her way, but succeeded only in getting bowled over. The path to her escape cleared. Taishi could just make out the night sky at the end of the street. She pumped her arm and legs, her already exhausted heart groaning with each step. Of course the route had to be uphill again.
A pop to her left gave her just enough of a warning to sidestep an attack. Taishi avoided the thrust, and then the tip of her big toe met one of the lesser shadowkill’s eye sockets, snapping her head back and sending her careening to the ground.
Instead of finishing this pest off, Taishi kept on, jumping on a quick current and riding it toward the far wall. As it came hurtling toward her, there was a noticeably softer puff as the talented shadowkill stepped out of the shadows. Black knives flashed, nearly finding her throat.
The Swallow Dances leaped from her scabbard. One exchange had told Taishi all she needed to know about this new shadowkill. This little hornet was good. But like most who tested Taishi, not good enough.
Taishi feinted, sidestepped a thrust, and found a killing blow. The girl realized her mistake just as the tip of the Swallow Dances shot toward her chest. She was lucky they were fighting in the shadows, otherwise it would have been too late for her. As Taishi’s blade touched her, her body puffed into a haze of black wisps, and she stepped out of a shadow on the opposite wall.
“I expected better from the great Ling Taishi,” the girl called out. There was almost a singsong quality to her voice. “Has age caught up with you, or has the bar for legendary war artist fallen so far?”
“Who are you trying to fool, you pint-sized puppy?” Taishi clapped back. “You’re awfully mouthy for an assassin.”
The girl faked a yawn. “I just hate it when my childhood heroes end up so disappointing.”
This encounter had been anything but dull. The chatty girl was just trying to save face. Both knew luck had saved her. That last maneuver, however—stepping into the shadows to prevent a blade—was still an impressive display of skill. As much as Taishi was tempted to continue chatting, she decided to take advantage of her upper hand. Praise and critique could come some other time. She turned away and sped to the opening of the gorge, the blue light of the Queen growing brighter with every step.
Three more times the shadowkill puffed in front of her, three more times Taishi avoided her black blades. Then Taishi was out of the tunnels and beneath the vast Celestial ceiling. Sensing her quarry escaping, the talented shadowkill puffed to the shadowed area closest to Taishi beneath the sconce of a lantern at the foot of the entrance. It was a desperate and ill-advised maneuver. It was too far from Taishi to get close quickly. The girl tried anyway, but Taishi was ready. She easily turned the tables, hooking her arm around the woman’s armpit and using her momentum to fling her over the ledge. The girl had only a second to look surprised before disappearing over the side.
A long breath loosed from Taishi as she stepped to the edge to confirm her kill, tracking the shadowkill’s descent. What a waste. She could have been a talented war artist. Taishi squinted. One moment the girl’s body was falling, the next she had disappeared. Then a puff later, she flew out from a shaded nook in the wall. She poofed again and reappeared once more hanging off the ledge. The shadowkill pulled herself up and rolled onto her back, her body heaving as long black wisps evaporated off her body.
That last series of jumps was an amazing display of jing and skill. Taishi nodded in appreciation and approval. “You don’t suck, girl. What’s your name?”
The shadowkill responded with three knife throws one after the other. She may not have sucked, but she also did not know when to give up. Taishi knocked the first two out of the air with her blade. She quickly sheathed the Swallow Dances and caught the third with her hand. Taishi examined the expertly balanced blade and pocketed it. “Do you have any more for me?”
The girl screeched and produced two more knives. She charged, slashing only air as Taishi, anticipating this foolishness, grabbed on to a howling current. She was yanked into the air at a frightening speed. It was all she could do to hang on.
Taishi looked back. The talented shadowkill was shaking her fist and throwing a pinkie finger, screaming words Taishi couldn’t hear over the sound of the wind as it whisked her away.