Page 36 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

Twenty-Five

And when the Red Mountains groan, it is said to be the stirrings of the Monkey King trapped beneath, imprisoned for his defiance of the Celestial Emperor. His wrath shakes the earth, a warning that even the mighty must yield.

Kuro had a diversion staged, so that when we emerged into the sun and escaped on horseback, Sky’s men were nowhere to be seen.

After three days underground, I felt overstimulated by everything—the sun, the wind, the animals, and the people.

Kuro’s rebels were a rowdy and brazen crew, entirely unlike the nobles I’d grown accustomed to in the Forbidden City.

And yet it was clear from the onset how much they respected and lionized their military leader.

As soon as Kuro issued a command, it was done, no questions asked.

So no one protested when Lei was given special treatment, despite the rebels’ initial distrust of him.

Because of Lei’s condition, we had to stop earlier than expected, setting up camp a day’s ride from the Dian River, where we would pivot south and follow the river’s path down to the mountain pass, which would lead to First Crossing.

As Kuro’s healer treated Lei, I tried to help, but she quickly shooed me out of her tent, insisting she needed to focus.

Wandering the campsite, I found Kuro sitting by the firepit with a tiny woman who barely reached his chest. What she lacked in height, however, she more than made up for in strength.

Despite the frigid temperatures, she wore a fur-lined vest with no sleeves, baring her muscular arms. They sat on a log grilling skewers of lamb, and I noticed that while Kuro was grilling, the woman was simply eating.

I approached tentatively, feeling like I had on my first day at the army training camp. “Can I sit here?” I asked.

“Phoenix-Slayer!” said Kuro, waving a grilled skewer at me. “Please, sit.” He leaned toward me. “Don’t worry about your friend,” he added. “My healer is the best you’ll find.”

I shrugged, but worry still gnawed at me. The small woman passed me a grilled skewer. “Eat.”

At her order, I realized I was famished. I bit into the freshly seared meat and savored its bold heat, infused with cumin, peppers, and garlic.

“Desert-style,” said Kuro appreciatively. “Good, isn’t it? Meilin, this is Lü Jinya, my right hand. Jinya, Meilin.”

She spared me a half-second glance before returning to her food. I gave her a longer assessment, noting the multitude of throwing stars she wore on her body. Kuro too I assessed differently. Knowing he had a female second-in-command made me like him more.

Kuro grinned as if guessing my thoughts.

“She trained me well,” he said, patting Jinya on the head.

In response, she shoved his face away with the back of her hand, and he nearly tipped off the log with laughter.

Without smiling, she continued to chew the remains of her skewer, until she’d cleaned the stick. Then she reached for seconds.

I felt a prickling sensation and glanced behind me. Two men were staring at me, their gazes overly curious in a way that made me stiffen.

“Lan. Hanwen,” Jinya barked. “Aren’t you on patrol next?”

They saluted and hurried away. She shook her head at their receding backs. “Fresh meat,” she muttered.

“What?” I asked.

She pointed at me. “You.” She spat on the ground, then wiped her mouth. “Watch your back. They’ve all heard of your prowess with the sword. But you know how men are. They won’t believe it until they see it.” She got to her feet and eyed Kuro. “I’ll check on patrol,” she said, before striding off.

“One of us needs to work,” said Kuro, stretching out by the fire.

He took off his fogging glasses and cleaned them on his tunic.

Without the thick frames, his eyes appeared unusually light, though it was hard to tell in the dark.

“We’ll be passing the Zoigen Marsh tomorrow.

Will you come with me to see my mother? She’s been dying to meet you.

You’re something of a living legend around these parts.

” His eyes gleamed strangely. “Makes me jealous.”

I scratched the back of my head, uneasy. “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s a detour, and I’m pressed for time.”

“After all I’ve done for you,” he said, wheedling, “you won’t agree to pay a short visit to my mother?”

“Your mother lives here?” I asked. It was out of the way, but only by a day, and Lei could not move far regardless.

He shrugged. “She doesn’t like people. This is as rural as it gets.”

I appraised him silently. Kuro had an open, honest sort of face, the kind that made people invite him into their homes and beds, despite his huge stature and many war scars. His was a face that could lead a rebellion.

“All right,” I said. “But only for the day.”

He pumped his fist in the air like a little kid. “Yes!” he exclaimed. To me, he said, “We won’t tarry.”

“And I have a list of medicines I want acquired,” I added.

He groaned loudly, but I could tell his distress was performative. “You’re draining me dry, Phoenix-Slayer.”

I thought of Lei’s jewels in my satchel—I’d held on to them in case we needed the cash for supplies. “I can contribute.”

He gave me a long look. “I don’t want your gold,” he said. In a quieter voice: “I want your friendship, Hai Meilin.”

I returned to the tent to find the healer packing up. “He’s stable,” she said, fatigue lining her face. “He would have died from the poison—if not for Kuro. Did he drink something intended for you?”

“Kuro?” I repeated, bewildered. Did Kuro save him?

She shot me a look as if I were being obtuse. “Tan Kuro is a poison master,” she said simply, before leaving.

Alone, I sank onto the floor beside Lei. His face was still pale, but now I could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. Lying beside him, I watched that subtle motion, trying to assure myself it was real. Gently, I placed my hand over his chest, and then—I felt it. His heartbeat.

Comforted, I withdrew my hand just as he caught it. “Stay,” he whispered, his voice barely a rasp.

“I’m right here,” I answered. Still, he did not release my hand. We stayed like that all night—Lei asleep and I only pretending. For I did not dare fall unconscious.

Now that we were once again surrounded by people, I feared the dragon’s reach.

I did not know how he had manipulated Zibei, but I dreaded the possibility that he could compel and corrupt others.

Perhaps he had used other spirits as his proxies.

Or perhaps he had not needed to do anything at all.

Perhaps, from the start, it had always been me.

Checking to ensure my irons were secure, I kept watch over Lei’s sleeping body, both relieved and exhausted to see the sun rising over the jagged horizon. It was a new day, and I was still alive.

With all the rain as of late, the Zoigen Marsh reminded me of an overflowing cup, brimming with puddles that never ended. Under the spring sunlight, the shallow waters appeared like polished mirrors, reflecting back the bright blue sky and the waterfowl traversing it.

Kuro kept up a steady stream of chatter as we sloshed our way through the wetlands. We saw a few wild bulls grazing on the grasses and gave them a wide berth, but other than animals I could see no sign of civilization for miles. By midday, tired and hungry, I asked Kuro if we were lost.

“Lost? Me? Never,” he replied, though he did double-check his compass.

I rested my hands on my hips as I waited for him to navigate us.

But instead of carrying on, he set his rucksack on a protruding stone.

“I know what your problem is,” he said, grinning.

He fished out a barbecued pork bun from his belongings and foisted it high in the air like a trophy.

“You’re hungry, aren’t you? Jinya’s always a brute when she’s hungry. ”

Without responding, I snatched the bun from him.

The bun was as soft and fluffy as a pillow, and the savory inside—full of barbecued pork, green onions, and eastern spices—was somehow still warm and steaming. I had to give the Leyuan rebels credit where it was due—they ate much better than the Anlai army.

“Good, isn’t it?” said Kuro. “We have a spirit wielder on our cooking team—keeps the food hot no matter how long it’s been stored.”

I raised a brow. “So you permit spirit wielders to join the Black Scarves?”

“Permit?” he guffawed. “We recruit spirit wielders, my friend. Have you seen the damage they can do? One powerful spirit wielder is worth a hundred swordsmen, in my humble opinion.”

I mulled this over. “Are there many in Leyuan?” I asked. “I mean, a year ago I knew of not a single one in all the Three Kingdoms.”

Except myself, I didn’t add.

He shrugged. “There’s a growing number. With all these new gates popping up, anyone who dares can become a spirit wielder.”

I spared him a wary look. I heard no judgment or fear in his voice. “Would you dare?”

His smile was cutting. “Would I dare?” he repeated thoughtfully, before suddenly jumping to his feet with a ferocity that made me flinch. I shot upright as I felt it too—a slow rumbling, shaking the earth.

“Bandits,” said Kuro. “Sounds like a lot of them.”

A huge force of bandits slowly emerged on the horizon, charging across the wetlands and spreading around us like water circling a drain.

My heart accelerated at the sheer magnitude of their force—there looked to be nearly a hundred of them.

The bandits leading the vanguard held sabers and spears, while the ones in the back carried bows and arrows.

“Vultures,” Kuro spat out. “They’d join the rebellion if they had any moral code.”

Now wasn’t really the time for a lecture. “We can’t fight that many,” I muttered, edging closer to Kuro. “What do you think they want?”

“Our heads,” he said simply. “We’re both wanted men.” Then he glanced at me, a grin curving his lips. “Apologies, Wanted Lady.”