Wrath of the Blue Lady

CHAPTER FOUR

Shang-Li rolled to his feet and hurtled forward, racing for the window.

Halfway to his escape, thunder cracked behind him. The wall of books exploded outward. A few of them slammed into Shang-Li. Others littered the floor ahead of him and made footing treacherous. He slipped, caught himself on his hand and fist closed around the sticks, and pushed himself back up.

From the corner of his eye, Shang-Li saw Ravel Kouldar stride through the large, ragged opening that had been torn through the wall with his glowing staff in his hand.

A word ripped through the confusion rumbling through the wizard’s den. The power of the spell blew cold air over Shang-Li and filled him with vibrating fear. He controlled the fear and kept it distant because he knew it didn’t come from inside him. The emotion was a thing created by Kouldar’s spell.

Something jostled on the room’s ceiling, then dropped to the floor. The dark shadow obscured the window and Shang-Li instinctively turned to one side and bumped against a bristly surface that scratched his exposed skin. His foot slipped on the books and he fell, immediately scrambling to get once more upright.

A monstrous spider lurched toward him, its front legs raised as if reaching for Shang-Li. Taller than a man with several black, beady eyes peering out through the bristle of its hair, the spider twitched its fangs, ichor dripping from them as it sprang forward.

Shang-Li threw himself to one side and narrowly avoided the spider’s legs. They thrust against the floor with power enough to cause small tremors. Enough to crush him.

In the moonlight, the spider’s flesh stood revealed, shiny and pale; it was a golem. A masterwork to be certain-whoever the craftsman had been the spider looked lifelike, complete with striations in its coloring and the bristle of hair. But it was made of heavy clay.

The golem-spider reared again and spun with superhuman speed toward Shang-Li. The forward legs streaked for him once more.

Gambling on his opponent’s strength, Shang-Li leaped, put a hand on top of one of the legs, and vaulted upward. He flipped and his back thudded against the golem-spider’s back. Before the creature could reach him or shift, he shoved himself to his feet and leaped through the window. Unfortunately, the golem-spider chose that moment to stand taller and the added movement threw Shang-Li farther than he’d anticipated.

He sailed across the widow’s walk and headed for the long drop to the alley below. Frantically, he managed to catch the railing with one hand. His stopped his fall but felt his shoulder briefly separate and snap back in place. Pain flooded his senses and he nearly blacked out.

When he blinked his eyes, he realized he dangled from the balcony railing and faced the wizard’s room. He cast his senses for Moonwhisper and found the owl perched on a nearby building. The bird fell forward and his wings unfurled to seize the night.

Shang-Li felt a moment of relief at the promise of help, but his hopes quickly fled. The golem-spider would destroy the owl if it landed a blow. Desperately, feeling the muscles in his arm quivering under the strain of holding his body despite his training, Shang-Li turned his attention to his survival.

The widow’s walk quivered as the ponderous weight of the golem-spider trod upon it. The creature’s legs curled over the railing and felt for prey.

Shang-Li reached into his bag and took out the padded grappling hook. He didn’t trust his ability to make the cast back to the building he’d come from. Instead, he shook out the line and aimed for the gargoyle almost ten feet away.

The cast flew true and Shang-Li hauled the line to take up slack.

One of the spider’s legs brushed against the back of Shang-Li’s hand as he drew the rope tight. Immediately, the widow’s walk shivered as the golem-spider eagerly changed positions. It leaned over the railing to peer down at him.

The golem-spider’s fangs flashed as they worked in anticipation. It leaned over the railing and lunged for him.

Shang-Li released the railing and took up slack on the rope. For a moment, he dropped, then he reached the end of the line and swung like a pendulum under the gargoyle. The stone statue shifted a little with a low grinding sound.

He smashed against the rough surface of the tower wall. Warm blood spilled down his cheek and the burning pain proved too sharp to completely ignore.

The gargoyle shifted again, and this time rock fragments pelted Shang-Li as he swung under it. He searched for another safe haven and spotted a second gargoyle farther down, sticking out over the meandering river.

Back at the widow’s walk, the golem-spider rose on four legs and propelled itself toward him.

Shang-Li knew there was no chance the gargoyle would withstand the golem-spider’s additional weight. As lithely as the thing moved, the wizard’s guardian was still massive. When Shang-Li swung back under the gargoyle, he arched his body high and threw himself forward.

The golem-spider landed on top of the gargoyle and the structure tore free of the tower. Shang-Li landed atop the next gargoyle and struggled for his balance.

Skittering noises behind him drew his attention. The hairs on the back of his neck rose as he glanced down.

The golem-spider crept along the surface of the tower as easily as a true arachnid would, moving swiftly toward Shang-Li.

The distance to the alley floor was somewhere near thirty feet. A fair chance he’d turn an ankle in the fall. With the spider hot on his heels, that wasn’t a plan for a hopeful future.

Desperate, Shang-Li ran his fingers along the stone. He found enough crevices to grab a tenacious hold. His hands sent bright, blazing messages of agony to his brain as his fingertips took his weight. As quickly as he could, he clambered down the side of the tower.

The golem-spider closed on Shang-Li rapidly. He gazed up into the golem-spider’s multitude of eyes and reached into his blouse for more throwing stars. A deft flip of his wrist sent the sharp blades spinning into the creature’s face. All of them bounced from the golem-spider’s hide without doing any damage. It relentlessly continued to gain on him.

“Shang-Li.”

He recognized his father’s voice at once and snapped his head around. His father stood in the middle of a small transport boat along the river’s edge. He held a pole in his hands.

“Shang-Li. Here” His father waved him toward the boat.

Shang-Li reached inside his blouse and took out the journal. “Meet me at the ship.”

A grimace of displeasure tightened his father’s face, but worry showed there as well.

Quickly, Shang-Li looked up at the widow’s walk. There was no sign of the wizard, but light neared the edge. He held the journal up briefly so his father could see it, then he tossed it down and across the thirty feet of intervening distance. The cords around the journal kept it closed as it sailed. His father plucked the journal from the air.

Light dawned over the edge of the widow’s walk. The wizard peered down as the golem-spider closed on Shang-Li.

“Go!” Shang-Li implored. “I’ll meet you at the ship!” He ducked beneath the golem-spider’s leg and felt vibrations course through the tower. Mortar trembled from the cracks.

Kwan Yung shoved the journal into his robes and grasped the pole in both hands. He pushed hard against the river bottom and swung his craft into the slow current.

“Hurry,” his father admonished.

Even if he’d thought of one, Shang-Li had no time to utter a response. Moonwhisper brought him a moment’s respite when he flew in front of the golem-spider’s face. The creature struck at the owl but missed by several feet. The owl spun gracefully in the air despite the large wingspan and came back for another pass.

“Ignore the bird!” Kouldar leaned over the window’s walk. “Kill the thief.”

Across the alley, Shang-Li noticed a small balcony. From his precarious position, he couldn’t tell exactly how far the distance was. But he was all out of choices. He pulled his knees to his chest, planted his feet against the wall, and pushed off with all his strength.

He was awkward and ungainly as he sailed across the alley, but his aim was true. He flew toward the balcony-

His fingers grazed the balcony’s railing. It slipped through his grasp, but he managed to catch the bottom of the balcony and hang on. He dangled for a moment, not believing his good fortune.

Then, along the wall, the golem-spider crouched to pounce. In frozen disbelief, Shang-Li watched the long legs flex, and it leaped for the balcony as well.

Shang-Li swung forward and let go of the balcony. He crashed through a window and rolled across a hardwood floor just as the shriek of cracking timbers filled his ears. As he pushed himself up from the glass-strewn floor, the golem-spider and the balcony tore loose from the building and tumbled down.

Before Shang-Li could celebrate his good luck, a grotesque leg curled over the window’s edge. The golem-spider hauled itself up to the window.

“Goddess,” Shang-Li whispered miserably, “my father is with me on this quest. Haven’t you tested me enough for one night?”

Motion behind the golem-spider attracted Shang-Li’s attention and saved his life. He threw himself backward in the hallway as the wizard unleashed another fiery bolt from the widow’s walk. Heat roiled over Shang-Li as he rolled backward in a desperate attempt to increase the distance between himself and his attacker. Flames licked the hallway and swarmed outward.

A nearby door opened and an older man stood there with naked steel in his fist. “What’s going on? By the gods, you’re making enough racket out here to wake Kelemvor’s guests.”

Shang-Li silently agreed. Kelemvor, the Lord of the Dead, would doubtless arrange passage for several people in the building if they didn’t get out before the fire spread.

“Wizard.” Halting to face the man with the sword, Shang-Li pointed back toward the window.

The golem-spider pulled through the window and scuttled through the flames, pausing as if to get its bearings.

The man with the sword eyed Shang-Li with open hostility and disbelief. “You riled Kouldar?”

“Wake everyone,” Shang-Li entreated. “The building is on fire.” The golem-spider focused on Shang-Li again, then sprang.

The man with the sword dodged back into his room and slammed the door. Shang-Li fled down the hallway only a heartbeat ahead of the spider. Other doors opened but closed even more quickly.

Through the window at the other end of the hall, the peaked roof of another building, this one no more than a couple stories tall, stood out against the darkness. Without pausing, Shang-Li crossed his hands in front of his face and dived through the window. Mielikki willing, the distance wouldn’t be too great between the buildings.

Glass crashed all around him, spinning away and glinting in the moonlight. He landed on the other roof off-balance and tucked himself into a roll automatically. The night kaleidoscoped around him in a whirling mixture of night and stars.

On his feet again, he looked back and saw the golemspider break through the window as well. Chunks of rock plummeted into the alley. Flames illuminated the hallway behind the creature as smoke spiraled up from the burning building.

The rooftop shook as the golem-spider dropped onto it. By then, Shang-Li was in full flight, lunging forward and powering his steps. Startled shouts rang out around him, and he could only imagine the tales that would be told tomorrow of a giant spider chasing a man across the rooftops of the pirate city.

Despite his best efforts, Kwan Yung was no longer able to see his son’s frantic flight across the rooftops. The old man’s stomach tightened anxiously, but he made himself breathe through it until his strokes with the pole against the river bottom were once more smooth.

Only his attempts to spot Shang-Li allowed him to spot the waiting ambush. Three Nine Golden Swords warriors ran swiftly to a low bridge that crossed the river. They held weapons naked in their fists and stared at him.

They were watching, he thought. We did not succeed in routing them. Kwan Yung put more force into his poling efforts but the small boat remained sluggish. The Nine Golden Swords warriors gathered before him, standing on the outside of the bridge now as they prepared to leap down at him.

Kwan Yung was glad Shang-Li was not there to witness his embarrassment. He’d fallen prey to their trap far too easily. You should have stayed in the monastery, Yung, he thought. That is what you’re better suited for these days.

But he hadn’t been able to let Shang-Li step alone into all the danger that now faced him. As a father, Kwan Yung hadn’t been able to keep his son safe all the time, but this assignment was one of those times he’d had to try.

One of the Nine Golden Swords perched on the edge of the bridge and stretched forth his arm. “Give us the book, old man. Hand it over and you won’t get hurt.”

Kwan Yung snorted and took his pole from the water as the boat glided under the bridge. One of the men lifted a crossbow and fired. Moonlight glinted from the steel tip. Twisting, Kwan Yung let the deadly missile pass, then reached down for the curved boat anchor. With one quick flip, he threw the boat anchor and succeeded in wrapping it around the crossbowman’s leg. Then Kwan Yung poled again to gain speed.

The boat glided under the bridge and the anchor line drew taut. As the boat shot out on the other side of the bridge, the anchor hauled the crossbowman off and spilled him into the river. One of the remaining warriors leaped down toward the boat.

Turning, Kwan Yung planted the pole in the center of the boat and caught the man in the chest; then he levered him to one side. The last warrior thudded into the boat and drew two heavy knives, quickly weaving a razored dance before him.

On his toes now, moving smoothly, Kwan Yung batted the knives away as they sought his flesh. The warrior was fast, but movement on the boat required fluid reflexes and uncanny balance. Kwan Yung kicked down on the port side, taking advantage of the drag created by the man captured by the anchor rope. The boat rolled over to the side and came out of the water, throwing the Nine Golden Swords warrior off-balance. Before the man recovered, Kwan Yung swept the pole around and hit him in the head.

As the man flew from the boat, Kwan Yung swung the pole again and knocked one of the knives into the air. Then he stepped toward the boat’s stern to right it before it started taking on water. He plucked the tumbling knife from the air, then dragged the keen blade across the anchor rope and cut loose the tangled warrior.

Returning the pole to the water, Kwan Yung drove himself farther downriver. There was no sight of Shang-Li, but even across the distance, Kwan Yung heard the yells of frightened men.

The chase was not yet finished.

Minutes later and nearly out of breath, Shang-Li reached the harbor. Even though he’d doubled back through alleys, Shang-Li hadn’t managed to lose his pursuer. The golemspider remained tireless. Not only that, but the pirate watch had gone on alert and now patrolled the sleeping city as well.

Shang-Li charged through the knots of frustrated and tired pirates. He leaped over and zigzagged through those in his way, but a handful of guards rushed at him. As soon as the guards spotted the golem-spider lumbering in his wake, they fled too. Screams and yells trailed in his wake, not quite fast enough to get ahead of him and warn the people ahead.

Air tore raggedly through Shang-Li’s throat despite his conditioning. All the climbing and running took its toll. His legs and back ached with the effort he expended.

And he was almost out of room to maneuver. The dock ended less than forty feet ahead. Despite the screams and shouts from the harbor, the men aboard the second ship ahead kept hauling on the block-and-tackle to hoist a net filled with cargo.

Shang-Li leaped for the net as the golem-spider thundered across the crooked wooden dock after him. Pirates dived from the docks as the giant creature knocked crates, barrels, bundles, and urns in all directions during its mad scramble to catch its prey.

The cargo net continued its upward journey, pulled by the cargo handlers. Shang-Li caught his left hand in the strands and made a fist. The rough fiber cut into his flesh but he didn’t release his desperate hold. The load rocked slowly but strongly and carried Shang-Li along with it. Flailing, he latched on with his other hand.

One of the men below him noticed him and let loose a squalling curse. “What do ye think ye’re doin’? Get offa there!” He glanced over his shoulder. “Kellam, get a pole and give that bonehead a knock between his lights.”

Shang-Li scuttled around the net and felt the swaying load drop another few inches. His stomach flipped and he had to quell the impulse to dive into the water. For all he knew, the wizard’s guardian could swim like a fish.

“By Gruumsh’s diseased nostril!” Another pirate swore and pointed back the way Shang-Li had come. “Look over there!”

As one, the pirates’ heads swung back along the dock. Closing quickly, the golem-spider leaped over a pile of crates and landed amidst a group of pirates drunkenly unaware of the danger among them. Mercilessly, the creature flung the howling men like ragdolls. They fetched up against ships in bone-jarring thumps or splashed into the harbor water. Those fortunate enough to escape the arcane creature’s grasp fled like scalded hounds.

With a lurching creak, the cargo net plummeted almost a foot, leaving it scarcely more than fifteen feet above the deck. Shang-Li was certain the wizard’s sentinel could leap that high without a problem.

“Hold that line, ye melon-headed lummoxes!” The pirate foreman stomped among his men. “Hold it or I swear I’ll gut ye meself an’ save the cap’n the trouble! We ain’t gonna lose the cap’n’s cargo!”

Incredibly, the men held the load in spite of their fear and the swinging mass. The rope that secured the net sang in protest of the ill-treatment.

The golem-spider poised beneath the swinging net and readied itself to pounce. Its four front legs stretched upward. Then its back legs flexed.

Move! Shang-Li told himself. He reached down and slid free the knife strapped to his right leg. It was an elven blade his mother had given him when he’d been just a boy.

The double-edged blade gleamed, straight and true. Elvish language that asked for blessings and guidance from Corellon Larethian scrolled along the spine in copper. Ridges scored the amber grips to provide a surer grip.

The net jerked sideways suddenly. Without looking down, Shang-Li knew the golem-spider had made the leap. In two desperate arm pulls, he reached the top of the cargo net, but one of the creature’s legs curled around his foot. The limb tightened with steely strength and pulled. He thought his leg was going to tear from its socket.

Aboard the pirate ship, the lead pirate fought a losing battle. His shipmates had decided they were much too close to the golem-spider. The line jerked as another man abandoned the effort.

Blocking out the pain of his bruised foot, Shang-Li whipped the knife across the golem-spider’s leg. The mystical power in the blade cracked the clay limb and managed to roughly shear it away. He yanked his foot up while the creature recoiled and rebalanced itself. The stump thumped noisily against a crate.

Turning quickly, Shang-Li grabbed the rope holding the net with his free hand, then sliced the rope beneath his fingers with the blade. The hemp strands parted in a snapping rush.

Relieved of the cargo’s weight, the pirates straining at the other end of the rope fell backward and pulled the line through the block-and-tackle.

Shang-Li swung his body up and threw his knife arm over the top of the boom. He caught hold of it in the crook of his elbow. The bottom pulley pinched his fingers but he yanked them free before they were tugged inside. The rope shot through the assembly fast enough to send up a smoke trail.

Shang-Li held onto the boom arm and struggled to catch his breath.

Beneath the debris and wreckage held together by the cargo net, the golem-spider’s legs twitched feebly. Most of the cargo had landed on the creature. In the next moment, the golem-spider’s legs turned paler, then cracked and turned to dust. A wave of intense cold brushed by Shang-Li as whatever magic had been contained within the thing was released.

Danger!

Moonwhisper’s warning brushed across Shang-Li’s mind. The owl’s thoughts weren’t close to anything human, but Shang-Li understood them. When he looked over his shoulder, he spotted Kouldar striding along the docks. A small group of armed thugs surrounded him.

The thugs lifted crossbows and took aim.

Shang-Li sheathed his knife, gripped the boom with both hands, and quickly hauled himself into a squatting position atop it. The first quarrels cut the wind around him as he propelled himself toward the harbor water, but one of the later ones slid along his neck and under his jaw. Pain followed immediately and he hoped the quarrels weren’t poisoned. A fireball impacted the boom and heat washed over his back.

In the next instant, the cool dark sea took him into its embrace and he dived deeply. The bright flash of the fireball briefly illuminated the depths. He swam with powerful strokes almost within arm’s reach of the bottom.

Find safety, he told Moonwhisper. Stay away from the ship. They might follow you. I will send for you when it is safe. Be safe until we meet again.

The owl reluctantly headed back to shore.

As the remnants of the fireball flash faded, Shang-Li fixed his bearings in mind and swam toward Swallow. When he surfaced for air, he did it next to a ship. Safe in the shadows, he regained his breath and plunged under again.

Lungs near bursting, Shang-Li surfaced at Swallow’s stern and gripped the anchor rope. He shook water from his eyes and a voice called down to him.

“Shang-Li?”

His father stood in the stern. Beside him, three archers held nocked arrows aimed at Shang-Li.

“Don’t loose.” Shang-Li held his hands above his head and spoke only loud enough to be heard aboard ship. “It’s me.” The salt of the harbor burned the wound on his neck and jaw.

With a wave, his father dismissed the archers. Then he frowned down in displeasure. “I would have thought you could have made a much quieter departure.”

“No,” Shang-Li said, “I couldn’t. Else I wouldn’t have gotten away at all.” He took hold of the anchor rope in both hands and climbed up while bracing his feet against the ship’s side.

One of the sailors extended a hand and caught Shang-Li’s when he was close enough. Taking advantage of the sailor’s strength, Shang-Li allowed himself to be hoisted aboard. His sodden clothing dripped water onto the deck.

His father stepped away and sniffed disdainfully. “The pirates obviously don’t care where their filth runs. I’m surprised the sea elves haven’t put up a protest.”

“The alu Tel’Quessir don’t enter these waters by choice, nor to they get invited to voice their complaints.” Shang-Li accepted a towel from one of the sailors and began drying off. His father was right, though. He did smell foul.

The ship he’d dived from blazed merrily. Evidently the wizard’s fireball had spread too quickly for the pirates to put it out. More like, though, they’d abandoned their posts out of fear for their lives.

“Where is Kouldar?” Shang-Li mopped at his face, hoping to rid himself of the stench.

His father stood with a spyglass to his eye. “The wizard was there? Did he get a look at you?”

“Not a good one. Not enough to know me personally.”

“But enough to guess who sent you. Enough to guess we were involved.”

“He already knew that we would be there. The journal was a trap. He knew someone from the monastery would come for it. He’ll be looking for Shou ships.” Cold soaked into Shang-Li as the wind picked up and rattled the rigging. Fatigue ached his bones but his mind remained as sharp as his elven blade.

“That shouldn’t be a problem.” His father’s calm was surprising. “There are plenty of Shou pirates in these waters as well.”

The spyglass joints snicked in quick succession as his father collapsed the instrument and put it inside one of his voluminous sleeves. Now that he was aboard Swallow, he wore a more traditional robe, though without Standing Tree Monastery markings.

“You left a trail through the water.” His father’s words were thick with accusation.

Shang-Li returned his father’s steady gaze. “I left no trail.”

His father stepped forward and touched Shang-Li’s neck with a finger. “So you say.” He held up the finger. It was stained crimson.

Shang-Li cursed silently. There were things that could track a man’s blood through water with the unerring accuracy of a shark.

His father wiped his finger on the towel. “Let us hope that it is not enough of a trail for the Nine Golden Swords warriors to pick up.”

Dead men rained from the black water into the blue. Droust watched as he had so many times before, and the grisly nature of their deaths was not lost on him. Most of the men had drowned when the Blue Lady had taken their ship down. A merciful few of them died by Caelynna’s hand when they stood against her. Even if they tried to escape, she killed them. They had no choice but to fight or die like sheep.

Droust didn’t know if that lethal side of the Blue Lady’s nature came from anger she felt at being marooned to a land unknown to her and abandoned at the bottom of the Sea of Fallen Stars, or if she had always been that vindictive. He suspected the latter.

She floated in the still blue sea and watched the dead men fall around her. One started to fall across her and she caught the body by one leg and threw the corpse away without a second thought.

The shambling monstrosities that lived in the brush darted out from their hiding places and took what the sharks didn’t catch. Carnivorous vines slid slowly across the sea floor, but they still managed to reach their prey. Everything that lived within the underwater forest lived to eat other things. Droust often wondered if the forest had been like that before it had been pushed through whatever gate had brought the land to the Inner Sea.

“What do you want, manling?” The Blue Lady spoke without turning around to acknowledge him.

“I have bad news, lady.”

She turned to face him then, and Droust though his heart would burst with dread. “What?”

“The monk escaped with the journal.”

“Escaped Kouldar?”

“Him. And the Nine Golden Swords.” Droust spread his hands. “Lady, if there was any way I could have known-”

“Silence!”

Droust closed his mouth and sat waiting. He had failed her all these years, and now his inability to capture the journal possibly endangered her. He didn’t regret the last, but he feared her wrath. The Blue Lady was not one to live with failures or disappointments.

“There is nothing in that journal that can hurt us.” She locked eyes with Droust.

“The location of where Grayling went down will be in that book. Farsiak would have taken note of that. And there will be mention of you.”

“True, but you fools had no idea of who I was or what I desired.” The Blue Lady tapped her chin in thought as she watched the stricken ship’s debris fall into the canyon in front of her. “For all they knew, I was Umberlee herself risen from the depths to assert my ferocity for some inevitable transgression. Have you ever seen this book, manling?”

Droust thought but it was so hard to get to those memories so many years removed. “I don’t think so, lady.”

“That doesn’t mean you didn’t.” The Blue Lady crooked her finger. “Approach me.”

On shaking legs and feeling very fearful, Droust got to his feet and went forward. He hoped he didn’t throw up or foul himself as he had in the past. She always punished him for those instances. When she shoved a hand toward his face, he flinched.

“Stand still.”

This time Droust did as she bade, but it was a near thing because he didn’t know if his heart or his knees would give out first. Then her hand, like a thing of ice, closed over his face. He closed his eyes, and screamed silently in pain as it felt as though she reached into his brain.

Images flipped through his mind. Then he saw Farsiak, very quick memories of the man on deck and down in the galley. The multitude of remembrances stopped when Droust saw the man sitting in the sterncastle working on a journal.

“Is this the book, manling?”

“Lady, I don’t know.” Droust’s voice was an almost unrecognizable croak and a rasping pain through his throat. “This is a book I saw Farsiak with.”

The pain inside Droust’s head increased and he felt certain his skull would explode at any moment from the pressure of the Blue Lady’s grip. He prayed for unconsciousness or death. Either was preferable to his current agony.

“The book still exists.” Enthusiasm echoed in the Blue Lady’s declaration. “I can feel it. But there is something more. Something that connects you to it.”

“I don’t know what that would be, lady.”

“Did you ever touch it?”

“No. I swear to you.”

The Blue Lady was silent for a time and Droust could feel her raking talons through his thoughts. “You’re telling the truth, manling. I would know if you were lying.”

Droust doubted he had the strength to lie.

“But there is something of you within that book.”

Droust gasped as he tried to collect his thoughts and answer her unasked question. Anything to make the savage pain desist. “Perhaps it is only the fact that Farsiak mentioned my name in the book. That can sometimes tie a person to another thing.” Names had always held power.

Finally, the Blue Lady withdrew her hand and most of the pain ended.

Reeling on his feet, Droust slumped bonelessly to the ground.

The Blue Lady grinned. “There is more than just your name within that book, manling. There is yet another trap I can set. One that won’t be so easily escaped as Kouldar’s.”

Droust doubted that the wizard’s defenses and guardians had been easy to escape. Shang-Li the monk had to either be very good or very lucky. Droust didn’t know which to wish for.

The sea continued to rain the dead, some of them in pieces that fell close to the scribe.

“When you regain your strength, go and search the ship.” The Blue Lady swam upward. “You were in luck. The ship carried no scribes more talented than you. However, I do want to know what else it carried. When you have performed an inventory, find me.”

“Yes, lady.”

“And let your hired men know that I’m not happy with their progress regarding the book. Tell them I want the book found. And this monk. Perhaps he can help you with the riddle Liou Chang left regarding the gate.”

“Yes, lady.” Weak and shivering, Droust lay on his back and stared up at the blue depths of his prison. And, more than likely, his grave.

“Be still.”

Shang-Li gritted his teeth and sat on a bench down in the ship’s galley. “I am being still.” He held his head at an awkward angle. His neck burned like molten metal had been poured on it. Before, he’d hardly noticed the pain. Beneath his father’s aggravating ministrations, though, he felt the throbbing ache now.

“You’re flinching.” His father gripped his shoulder and set him straight again.

“You’re hurting me.”

“Nonsense. Pain is only weakness making itself known.”

Shang-Li concentrated on the steady flame inside the lantern resting in the middle of the table. He pulled air into his lungs through his nose and pushed it out through his mouth as he’d been taught.

Shadows of his father’s hands played on the wall. They moved as delicately and smoothly as doves, and the string they pulled through the wound in Shang-Li’s neck appeared as thin as spider silk.

“Even a novice to the monastery handles pain more easily than you.” His father shook his head in disappointment. “You should have been more disciplined in your lessons instead of running through the forest with your mother.”

“I excelled at my lessons at the monastery. And I excelled in the lessons Mother taught me as well.”

“See? Modesty was one of the most important lessons you failed to learn. An immodest man challenges both friend and foe, and will know no safe harbor.”

Nor any peace from his father, Shang-Li thought and took a deep breath, pushing the pain further from his mind.

He tried to turn his thoughts to the journal lying in the middle of the table. Curiosity had always been his greatest balm. Unfortunately, it was also his greatest weakness.

To his surprise, his father had chosen to forego the opportunity to explore inside the pages and instead concentrated on tending Shang-Li. One of the sailors had rushed to get the old monk’s healer’s kit. Swallow had a cleric on board, but Kwan Yung had insisted on treating the wound himself.

“Be still.” His father hissed in frustration when Shang-Li flinched. “Even a novice to the monastery knows how to sit quietly.”

Shang-Li groaned inwardly and hoped that his father was soon finished. It felt like a hive of angry bees had taken up residence in his skin.

Presently, though, his father pronounced the wound properly cared for. After Kwan Yung put his medical things away, they turned their attention to the journal. Despite the pain in his neck, Shang-Li touched the bandage to find out how large an area it covered.

“Don’t touch that.” His father caught his hand and pulled it back. “You’ll foul the poultice.”

Shang-Li drew his hand back. “Thank you.”

His father bowed his head slightly. “You’re welcome, my son.” His hand trembled slightly as he finished wrapping his kit in a waterproof cover. “That arrow came close, Shang-Li. Another inch or two, or if it had been poisoned, you might not have made it back to us.”

Surprised by his father’s concern, Shang-Li hesitated a moment. He didn’t know whether to feel thankful or insulted.

He faced his father directly. “But I did make it back.”

“Yes. Hopefully this will be the worst of it.” His father shook his head. “If Grayling did not rest on the floor of the Sea of Fallen Stars somewhere, if she hadn’t carried the books we’re looking for, and if those books weren’t so dangerous, I wouldn’t worry any more. There are still a great many things that can go wrong.” He put the wrapped kit away. “Let us have a look at that journal you brought back.”

The journal’s author’s name had been Farsiak, an older sailor from Impiltur, He’d had a poor acquaintance with the written language, and poorer still with handwriting. The script was in the common tongue, mercifully not in a seafarer’s personal code, but the man couldn’t spell very well and often used the wrong word when he wasn’t writing about the ship or sailing. Shang-Li struggled through the tangled weave of letters to find the tale.

“Grayling took men and stores aboard in Impiltur.” Kwan Yung stroked his beard and made notes in his personal journal. “Many of the crew were from the area. Including Droust.”

Shang-Li was familiar with Bayel Droust’s life. He knew the scribe’s story probably as well as his father. Most of Farsiak’s comments were no surprise.

Except for the entry that was tucked away, nearly illegible, near the end of the journal.

By the time Capn Porgad chose to throw Bayel Droust over the side of the ship, it were already too late. She were coming for us. Werent nothing nobody could do.

If we had slit Droust’s gullet sooner, maybe Grayling and all my mates would have lived. But we didnt. And that night the Blue Lady caught up to us.