Heaven's Golden Finger - Chapter 37: Chapter 37

It took a full minute before anyone made a move, leaving Shirong with a desperate urge to whistle the theme from a certain movie. No one would get the joke if he did, given he could manage it at all. "The question is, are they bandits? Your enemies? Mine?"
"I doubt we'll learn the answer to that immediately," Shun Shixiong murmured. "Stay focused please. This isn't the time for conversation."
The enemy certainly didn't think it was. They remained hidden, working their way around Shun Shixiong and Shirong, trying to trap them. Shirong focused his attention as ordered, trying to remember all his training. This was one of the problems with having spent seventeen or so years in another life. One forgot so much.
Fortunately, the training Shirong had gotten in that other life helped a bit. One didn't get into the Olympics by being inattentive and unskilled. Of course, there wasn't an event for stalk and kill, but one couldn't account for everything. Listening, remembering everything Shun Shixiong had been teaching him in the last few days, he counted. "Ten of them?"
"Fifteen. There's some hanging back. Most likely the leaders."
Of course the leaders hang back, waiting to see if the prey was too dangerous to fight. The ones in front were the sacrifice, meant to test the waters. "Do we need to kill them?"
"That depends on them." Shun Shixiong spoke a bit louder. "And how badly they want to die."
At least two of the ten strangers slowed down, only to push forward faster at the sound of a chirping insect. Or, more likely, their leaders imitating a chirping insect. Whatever the message, it was clear their attackers wouldn't be allowed to back off.
A man dressed in deer-hide and grey hemp trousers leapt out of the grass, flinging something at the two of them. Liquid splashed and after a moment's panic, Shirong realized, "It's wine. Are they trying to make us drunk?"
"Not... just... wine." Shun Shixiong sounded strained as he added, "Realgar wine."
It took Shirong a moment to remember what realgar wine was and why his Shixiong was distressed. He'd read about it in one of his web-novels, a year or so back. Normal humans could drink it and take little harm. Snakes and snake spirits, however, were badly affected by the stuff. "Get down, I'll protect...."
"I'm your... Shixiong.... It's my job to... protect you." Shun Shixiong was already shaken, though, and Shirong half-expected him to fall over any moment.
"We're protecting each other," Shirong said firmly, just as one of the men - thinking he had an advantage now, rushed at them. Reacting quickly, Shirong dodged sideways, white blade striking the man straight across the chest.
Knowing what those blades could do, Shirong had a moment of panic. To his surprise, the man didn't fall apart into two pieces the way he'd feared. Instead he clutched his chest, eyes wide, and dropped to the ground, body shuddering like he was having an epileptic fit.
Had the blade killed the man a different way? Or had it done something less fatal but still significant? Shirong didn't have time to consider the question. Another man attacked, swinging a huge axe that Shirong cut in half with his black blade. This time things went as expected as the axe head fell to the ground, leaving his attacker holding a sheared off wooden shaft.
The man stared at him. Stared at the axe. Stared at Shirong's sword. As he spun around, clearly intending to run, an arrow struck him in the throat, downing him. The gang's leader, making their instructions perfectly clear. Kill or be killed and it didn't matter by whom.
A surge of anger flooded Shirong. He was certain their attackers weren't innocents, but that didn't mean it was all right to off them so... so casually. He especially didn't like how the leader had chosen to hang back, out of danger, and send their people in to die.
Something inside Shirong shifted. Stretched. He'd had a similar feeling before, in the forest, a sense of the roots reaching out for life. That same feeling surged in him now, twisting through the grass beneath his feet, forcing the roots to grow rapidly, spreading and thrusting up from the ground to grasp hold of the leader and tangle them up entirely.
One of the other men, another commander, leapt out of the way of Shirong's grass, racing for Shun Shixiong. At the same time Shun Shixiong forced himself upright, sword flashing with its new element, lightning flickering along its edge. Shirong would have rushed to his aid, but he was too busy containing the other men to move. "Shixiong!"
"Stay... there.... Hold... fast." Shun Shixiong's body was twisting even as he struggled forward. The realgar wine was forcing him to change even though he didn't intend to. His clothes tore as he moved, robes ripping apart to reveal scaled skin. His voice thinned to a mere hiss, as he launched himself at his attacker.
Realgar wine was poison to most snakes and snake spirits. It surely was doing Shun Shixiong no good. Shirong tightened his grip on his captives, weaving the grass and roots around them in an elaborate cage. Maybe if he hurried he could trap them before Shun Shixiong was hurt.
He'd tied the last man down just as Shun Shixiong finished his transformation, falling flat and flailing wildly, pewter and rainbow scales gleaming in the late afternoon light. Shirong spun towards the last bandit, flinging his black saber across the distance, completely ignoring the fact that he should not be able to do so.
Ordinarily a Leifeng Sect disciple's weapon had to remain within their grasp to maintain its existence. Whether it was desperation, fear or the usual combination of chaos and luck on Shirong's side, his blade struck his enemy straight through the chest.
Wide eyes stared at Shirong. Stared blankly at the black blade slowly dissipating from his torso, the bandit opened his mouth to speak. Only blood, pouring in a sickening gush, left his lips. Then he fell, pierced through by a perfect hole.
Shirong returned his blades to nothingness. He stumbled, sweat soaking him from head to toe. Then, at last, he stumbled over to Shun Shixiong, who lay sprawled in the grass, gazing at him unblinkingly. "Shixiong? Are you... all right?"
Before Shun Shixiong could so much as attempt an answer, the sound of people running towards them drew his attention. He looked up and stared, startled to realize the newcomers weren't human at all. Demons didn't usually show their true natures in the human world, but these wore the marks and symbols of their race proudly. Delicate lines covering their foreheads, or arms or some other part of their body, denoting their place and position among their race.
And there, leading the pack, mounted on a grumpy looking donkey, was Liang Ren, grinning like an idiot.
"I really don't think...."
No one paid Shirong any mind. Each and every one of the demons accompanying Liang Ren had helped carry Shun Shixiong, and Shirong, off to the safety of their camp. Shun Shixiong had been given the best of bedding, with dozens of far too underdressed young women and men gathering around him, oohing over his scales and generally making much over their King.
And King is what they called him, genuflecting, dancing, singing, offering fine foods.... It was a riot, or would be if it didn't make Shirong feel totally useless. He especially didn't appreciate the underdressed dancers. Shun Shixiong hadn't shown signs of interest in anyone, but Shirong couldn't help tasting the sour flavor of vinegar.
"Don't look so upset, human boy. You're our King's Shidi and under his protection," Liang Ren whispered in his ear. He shifted to Shirong's other side, adding, "His own little pet, just as Shu Duan was his mother's."
Shu Duan, now the Forest King, had never been anyone's pet. Shirong didn't want to be Shun's. He loved his Shixiong, wanted to be with his Shixiong in ways he probably shouldn't, but he had no intention of being a mere pet. He didn't bother arguing the point. "Shixiong needs rest and help recovering from that realgar wine, not all this racket and dancing around."
Liang Ren chuckled. "My friends are healers, Disciple Xu. You needn't concern yourself. Their song and dance will help our King recover more quickly."
Though Shirong yearned to retort that Shun Shixiong was not a giant caterpillar in need of twin singers to rouse him from his sleep, he knew no one would understand. Or, if they did, it wouldn't really help. Instead he said, "Just don't get too familiar. You let him decide who he wants around him."
Leading Shirong off, Liang Ren reassured him, "Another thing you needn't concern yourself with. He's our King. We know better than to touch him without his permission." Even carrying him here had required delicate maneuvering and frequent requests for Shirong's help to move him without actually touching his bare scales.
"See they keep that in mind," Shirong answered, grumpily. He really didn't like this situation, even though he'd every confidence these demons weren't going to harm either him or Shun Shixiong.
They entered a squared off tent of yak hide, its interior similar to that of the Pamir tents they'd recently left behind. Before Liang Ren could say anything, or so much as offer Shirong a place to sit, Shirong asked, "Did you steal that Flame Lotus thing?"
"That's a horribly rude question to ask someone trying to take care of you," Liang Ren answered, sitting on some pillows and pouring himself a cup of tea. "Of course I did. You should have expected me to."
Truth to tell, Shirong had had a feeling that was the case. He hadn't expected Liang Ren to be quite so honest about it. "Why are you admitting it?"
"Because, I've already returned it." A wry grimace. "My job's to find weak points in people's security. I found the weak point like I was hired to. And received my reward in turn."
Oh. There'd been people like that in that other life of Shirong's. White hat hackers, weren't they called? Except, yet again, Shirong couldn't mention them to Liang Ren. "I... think I see."
"No, you probably don't." Liang Ren grinned, sharp fangs bright in the corners of his mouth. "But don't worry about it. Just sit back and relax. Our King is in good hands and so are you."
Somehow, Shirong didn't think that was entirely true. "As far as I know, he isn't King of Demons. Not yet, anyway."
"Ah, but that's where you're half-way wrong. See, his mother's just sent word she's stepping down in his favor."
His mother? "Wait. You mean she... she's alive?" But they knew she almost had to be. "Why hasn't she found him? Told him herself?"
"She's looking for him so she can. All the demons in all the lands are on watch for him. And it's my good luck to have found his young majesty before the rest." Those fangs flashed again. "His mother will reward me and with more fortune, so will he."
Shirong had to admit the young fox demon was probably right. The only question was, how was Shun Shixiong going to react, knowing that part of the prophecy was about to come true?
And what was Shirong supposed to do about it?
It was morning of the next day before Shun Shixiong's voice could be heard over his worshipful minions. "WILL YOU LOT JUST SHUT UP?"
"Oh Holy Demon! King of All He Surveys, Master of the Demon Realm and Lord of the...."
"GODS TAKE IT ALL, SHUT UP! I'M NOTHING OF THE SORT!"
Shirong, who'd curled up against his Shixiong to wait for his recovery, warm and safe against those soft coils, sat up and yawned. "It doesn't do any good, Shixiong. They won't stop until you admit you're King."
"Beloved son of the Beloved King, Returned To Us!"
A huge and glittering eye shifted, along with the triangular head it was in, to glare beautifully down at Shixiong. "YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"
"And you're yelling, Shixiong. I promise I can hear you just fine."
"I AM NOT YE.... oh... maybe I am." Shun Shixiong shifted carefully, turning his head so he could look down at Shirong.
"Beautiful of Scale, Beautiful of Form!"
Shirong sighed. Stood up so he was standing directly between Shirong Shixiong and his would-be worshippers. "Ladies and Gentleman, the King demands silence." A bit to his surprise, they actually listened.
"And clothing," Shun Shixiong grumbled.
"And clothing," Shirong repeated, when the demons failed to react, gazing up adoringly at his Shixiong. That got their attention and they all ran off at once, scattering in different directions and cheerfully searching through their camp for whatever they thought was suitable clothing for their king.
Seeing the demons had gone, Shun Shixiong slid down so he could look directly at Shirong. "You are all right?"
"I wasn't hurt." Shirong swallowed, remembering the fight suddenly. "I... think that's the first time I actually killed someone, though."
"If it were easy for you, I'd be worried," Shun Shixiong murmured. "Do you know why they're calling me King?"
"Your mother's stepping down in your favor, or so I'm told."
If Shun Shixiong could have blinked, Shirong was sure he would have. "She... did?" His tone shifted, sounding mildly offended. "Without at least finding me to tell me so?"
Shirong didn't pretend to understand any of it and said so. "Liang Ren says that's what's happened. You can tell them you don't want to be their king if you'd like. I'm not sure they'd listen."
"I'm certain they wouldn't. I don't know much about demon politics, but I've a feeling I can't get out of this that easily." Shun Shixiong sounded mildly depressed as he added, "I just wish she'd come to me. There's so much I still want to understand."
Shirong understood where his Shixiong was coming from. He'd like to find his father, himself. Would like to know why he'd been left in the hands of someone who'd turned him into a spoiled brat, unable to see how he affected others. He was about to say as much when the demons returned, carrying so much gaudy pieces of fabrics and shiny baubles that Shirong wondered if they thought their King was a magpie, instead of a snake.
He couldn't help imagining Shun Shixiong encrusted with gems and jewelry, body concealed beneath fine silks like those Mo Qingshe wore. It'd be a splendid sight, he admitted to himself. One he'd best stop thinking about because it was doing things to his lower regions he really shouldn't be allowing. Not until he grew up, at least.
How long was it before he'd be adult, anyway?
Shun: Exactly how am I supposed to move in all this?
Liang Ren: You're not. We'll carry you... ah... why is your pet looking at me that way?
Shun: He's jealous. Ignore him. Also, no, you are not carrying me or I'll sic him on you.
Shirong: WOOF!