Heaven's Golden Finger - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

"Back to back," Shun ordered, putting fake Shirong behind him and leaving Aunt Qingshe to guard Tong Si. He could tell by her little sniff that she'd prefer to be paired with him. But Shirong Shidi was Shun's responsibility and strange fighting skill or no, the boy couldn't have a clue what he was doing here.
Down below, Liang Ren continued dancing around the bandits, the sound of his movements shifting rapidly as he leapt wildly about. Shun hoped the young fool knew what he was doing. He didn't relish the thought of going back to Liang Xie Rao with the news that his son was dead.
"They're coming," Aunt Qingshe said suddenly, sniffing the air.
Shun's sense of smell wasn't nearly as good as his aunt's, but it didn't need to be. Their ambushers stank of horse and sweat. At a bet they'd been riding ahead for some time, getting themselves into position for this attack. An excellent spot for an ambush it was. Steep slopes lay to either side, thick forest all around. And this fog, which Shun now suspected wasn't natural, helped hide their presence.
The bandits were climbing the slope opposite the one where Liang Ren had fallen. No surprise. They must have hoped to trap their prey between the two groups. In the fog, with sounds muffled and altered, it wasn't possible to count their numbers but Shun thought there were around ten. There'd be about the same number on the other side, surely, leaving him and his companions outnumbered four to one.
"Liang Ren, call out when you take someone down," Shun ordered. He knew better than to expect the boy to join them. Liang Ren was probably more useful where he was, anyway. The more of the bandits he kept distracted, chasing after him, the fewer Shun and his companions had to deal with.
"Sure. Will do. Yeah!" Each word came a good distance from the last. Apparently the boy was leaping from tree to tree, keeping the bandits on his side occupied trying to catch up. "Knocked out three, so far."
Good enough. Shun focused his attention on those bandits coming at him and his companions. "Shirong Shidi, I hope you know how to disarm an opponent?"
"I do."
"Good. Keep me at your back and do so. Tong Si, Aunt Qingshe, stay together. Don't let anyone get past you." It was likely fake Shirong they were after, him being the one carrying the money. Either him or Shun, who had the pass everyone was so interested in as well.
"Understood." "Just be careful where you swing that stinger of yours, little scorpion."
A chuckle. "It's not poisoned, I promise." Tong Si's blade cut the air, the sound quickly hidden by a man's screech of pain. Something hit the ground a moment later. "I don't need poison against poorly armored opponents like these."
Fake Shirong moved suddenly, catching hold of another bandit's wrist, twisting it hard. Shun caught a glimpse of the boy's face and knew he didn't have the cold-heartedness to kill the man. When it came to it, Shun didn't either. Leifeng Sect disapproved of casual killing and he'd yet to find himself in a position where he absolutely had to end another life.
This might be one of those times but Shun chose not to assume it. "If you can, break his arm," he ordered his Shidi.
"Yes, Shixiong." The younger boy had already twisted his opponent around, even as he was kicking a second bandit in the belly. A scream followed, as did a agonizing sounding *snap*. The kick left the other man gasping in the dirt.
By this time Shun had his own opponents to deal with. He couldn't pay attention to the others' part in the fight. Instead, he drew his sword, its shape faintly visible against the surrounding mist. Lake and fire attributes might be antithetical, but when properly controlled, they could create a dangerously powerful weapon formed of condensed steam.
Against cheap weapons like the bronze daggers and swords the bandits attacking him carried, the heat of Shun's blade became even more dangerous. It could cut straight through normal metals easily. Blades fell apart as he struck, sending their owners off-balance as their weapon failed them.
A big man with a quenched steel sword came at Shun. Such weapons were rare outside the military, requiring a special process kept secret by the blacksmiths of Zuchian. Usually only the Emperor and his generals carried such blades. To find one in the hands of a bandit was unexpected and a little disturbing.
Such a weapon was too strong to destroy casually. Shun thought he could focus his sword's edge enough, but it'd take time and energy, neither of which he dared waste. Instead he parried, only to find the other man a great deal stronger than he looked. The bandit's sword drove forward, cutting into Shun's shoulder.
The pain startled him, his self-control wavering. He stepped sideways, almost leaving his Shidi's back unprotected. Then, remembering himself and knowing fake Shirong wouldn't realize his danger, Shun summoned his left-hand blade and drove it into his enemy's belly.
Without a sound, mouth working in obvious shock, the man fell to his knees and dropped to his side. Shun fought down nausea. It was a killing blow, likely a necessary one. He didn't have to like it. He turned his attention on the bandit attempting to sneak up on him, prepared to strike again.
Except a woman's voice, vaguely familiar, drew Shun's attention back the way they'd come. Someone was running forward, the surrounding fog melting in her path. "I call the fire of the Vermillion Lady, Queen Mother of the West, Wife of the Black Mountain. I call the cold of the Black Lord, King Father of the North, Husband of the Red Mountain. I call their children, the white tiger, the green dragon, the golden khai. Let the fog that clouds our hearts and minds dissipate. Let those who'd bring harm and cause death for the sake of greed fall."
A familiar blade cut through the air past Shun. The living metal crescent Priest Housu carried. She was more than she'd claimed, if she was calling on the Vermillion Lady and the Black Lord. The Dreamer was their son, of course, but few priests could summon the power of more than their specific benefactor.
The fog faded, revealing the bandits, many of them already fallen. Liang Ren alone had accounted for half. The rest - the ones who'd attacked those on the road - were either unconscious, dead or running for their small lives as fast as they possibly could.
Priest Housu caught her blade and returned it to the metallic bead she used to control it. "Interpreting my Master's dream took too long," she said mournfully. "I arrived too late to prevent bloodshed."
Shun bowed, though he suspected he knew just why she was there and whose fault it was. The Chosen One's talent for dragging heroes in their wake had come into play once more. "Bloodshed is inevitable on the warrior's path, Priest Housu, but not to be sought casually. We thank you for your aid and hope we can repay you for it?"
He wasn't at all surprised when she asked, "I too head for Tang City. Might I accompany you on the road?"
Neither Tong Si nor Liang Ren were entirely happy about allowing Priest Housu to travel with them. Shun wasn't sure why the older man cared one way or another, but Liang Ren clearly didn't care much for religious types. "Dream Lord's followers especially," the boy pointed out as they dealt with the remaining bandits. "They're always causing trouble."
"This priest is sad to admit the truth," Priest Housu told them. "It's not easy telling what a mad god expects of one. And if you have your own ideas about things, those seem to take precedence."
Leifeng Sect didn't follow any specific Gods, so most of what Shun knew of the Dream Lord was that he was the God of sorcerers and prophets. Those who associated with magic, especially in its purest forms, tended to have a distinctly confused view of life.
"You seem to be doing well enough," he pointed out. Priest Housu was a calm woman whose presence felt oddly soothing to him. Which, when he thought about it, was a bit odd. His demon heritage tended to make him want to avoid priests of any God.
"This one counts herself fortunate." She finished tying up the last of the men who'd attacked them, setting a finger to his forehead and drawing on her Gods' Magic. Since they didn't have time to drag these people back to the city she was using her power to geas them into surrendering themselves. As soon as they woke they'd march themselves and their dead to the proper authorities and confess their crimes. All of them, which was likely to take some quite a while.
At last, the bandits dealt with, they continued down the road. According to the map Master Liang had given Shun, there was a waystation some li up the way. As long as they kept moving, they'd reach the place around sunset. Given, of course, they didn't run into more trouble along the way.
Once they were walking, fake Shirong found a moment to quietly ask Shun, "Who is this Dream Lord she serves?"
If Leifeng Sect wasted much time studying the Gods, Shun would have been disgusted with fake Shirong's ignorance. As it was, it was only because Shun liked studying that he knew. "Meng Huan Xiang."
"That... doesn't sound auspicious at all." Fake Shirong glanced worriedly towards the woman walking ahead of them.
Of course it didn't. Meng Huan Xiang was the God of fever dreams and confusion. It was his job to ward such things off, but he did so by taking the illness on his own self. Shun told his Shidi as much, adding, "That's why you have to be careful about listening to him or his priests."
Cheerfully, Priest Housu called back, "We're chosen for our inability to put up with nonsense, of course, but sooner or later he infects us all. It's the older ones you absolutely have to be careful of."
Priest Housu didn't look much older than twenty, but neither did Shun's grandfather. Cultivation tended to slow the aging process. Get far enough and it could stop it entirely. Not that there were many true Immortals in the land.
A little rudely, Tong Si grumbled, "So how old are you?"
"Not nearly young enough for you, boy," she answered cheerfully. "As I told you before."
Was Tong Si's problem with the woman? Had he attempted to flirt with her and been turned away without so much as a pleasant smile or a wink? Shun didn't bother asking. If that were the case it was certain Tong Si would never admit it. Nor, he was sure, would Priest Housu mention the truth if she wasn't given cause.
"So why're you going to Tang City?" Fake Shirong asked suddenly. Shun sighed inwardly. Not only was the question rudely abrupt but it was intrusive. No matter how curious he was about this woman's intentions, he ought not be asking so directly. Of course, even old Shirong would have done the same. The boy had had no manners.
Fortunately, Priest Housu didn't take offense. She smiled gently, glancing over her shoulder at the young man. "I could say there are dozens upon dozens of reasons to go to Tang City. It is, after all, our King's summer capitol. But the truth is, I too hope to enter the auction."
"Now see, this is why I didn't want her to come," Liang Ren grumbled. The boy was walking on his hands and somehow managing to keep up despite the awkward position and the way his long hair dragged in the dust. "I don't need another rival for the Flame Lotus."
"It is not the Flame Lotus I seek, young fox kit." Priest Housu didn't explain what she actually wanted, but she did add, "Your pass would have been useful, of course, but I've other ways to enter the auction without it."
Whatever that way was, the woman didn't bother explaining. But then, no one with sense would, especially if their plan involved theft, bribery or threats. Besides, there were surely other ways to get in than just the pass Shun carried hidden in his Shizun's spatial ring. Some might even be legitimate.
They reached the way station just a little after it'd gotten dark. Fortunately, the station's keeper hadn't gone to bed yet, so they were able to pay the old woman and set up camp in the station's far corner. Equally fortunately, there were only a few other travelers around, so they needn't be as quiet as possible to avoid disturbing them.
Fake Shirong had that look on his face. The one that said he'd no idea what was going on. He was gawping at the stone wall surrounding the way station, and at marked off lines that defined their campsite.
"Go ahead and ask," Shun said, once the others couldn't hear him. "It's obvious you've no idea what this place is."
"That's not true," Fake Shirong protested. "It's obviously a campground for travelers. But why does it look so official?"
It'd been the Xiangluan Emperor's idea. Every major road going through wilderness must have some resource for travelers. Waystations were built, each within a day's travel. The walls were ensorcelled to keep wild beasts and demons out, a fact that might have posed a problem for Mo Qingshe and Liang Ren if their human transformation skills were any weaker. Fortunately, Shun wasn't affected, his demonic side being sealed since birth.
"We had something like that," fake Shirong said, accepting the explanation readily. "Not quite as elaborate. We called them... rest stops." The last he paused on, obviously searching for the words. "Does that make sense?"
Given the way some of fake Shirong's terms translated, Shun counted himself lucky the term wasn't some nonsense like stand on the road and wait. "It does." He checked the others, making sure they were settling down. "And now we're here, it's high time we took care of something."
To Shun's surprise and gratification, fake Shirong picked up on his intentions, remembering what he'd said earlier. "You want me to learn to summon my sword?"
"Exactly." This wasn't the absolute best place for a Leifeng Sect disciple to practice their cultivation. But they couldn't go back to Leifeng yet and it was high time his Shidi learned what he ought to know. "Shizun included a ward stone in my spatial ring, fortunately. I believe he intended me to help you practice."
Fake Shirong closed his eyes momentarily, obviously attempting to remember the process. "It shouldn't be too dangerous, right? I mean, I'm just summoning the thing, not learning to wield it properly?"
Shouldn't be, yes. Given the way things tended to go with his Shidi and himself, Shun wasn't nearly as confident as he wanted to be. Still, he didn't want to worry the boy. Fake Shirong had managed to make use of his predecessor's skills up until now. He should, hopefully, be able to do the same now.
Pausing a moment to tell the others, "We're going to be cultivating for a little while. Go ahead and rest and don't worry about us."
"Do you require assistance?" Tong Si asked.
"Not unless you know Leifeng Sect cultivation."
"Ah... true. That would be unlikely." Tong Si sat down by the fire, taking a leg off the chicken Liang Ren had brought out from his supplies. "Then we'll let you be for the moment."
Shun activated the ward stone, creating a dome of pale gold light, bands of delicate patterns forming around them. "I've never deal with a dual attribute before," he told fake Shirong. "But, aside from being a great deal stronger, you likely have the same problem. You've learned to balance them. Now you must draw your element through both and combine the result."
"Would it be better to aim for two weapons?"
"Do you know how to dual wield?" Old Shirong wouldn't but fake Shirong had all sorts of odd bits of martial knowledge. Whatever form he used, it might include both sword work and dual weaponry.
"Not really. I focused on hand to hand. I do know how to handle a sun root saber, but...."
That was another of those strange terms. One similar to the term fake Shirong had used describing his peculiar style. The sword probably came from that island fake Shirong had mentioned earlier. "Then, until you do know, focus on a single sword." That should be enough.
As black and white energies gathered between fake Shirong's hands, surrounding an intense green pillar, Shun could only hope he was right to trust fake Shirong's self-control.