Chương 45

Around the clamour of Lodin and Lorn's table, Joyful Garden was as tranquil as it had ever been. Paper lanterns hung from the eaves of and swayed on lines strung between the trees, and their light fell across the paths and ponds in pools of warm amber. The smell of roasted pork and garlic and ginger rolled out from the bustling central kitchen in waves that made Lodin's mouth water. Lodin and Lorn's table stretched beneath the largest pavilion, and it nearly bent under the weight of all the food.

Platters of braised ribs and whole steamed fish and bowls of rice and greens and sauces covered every inch of its surface, and servers wove between the seats to fill cups and clear plates and bring more. Jorin Shen held court at the far end, a sash wound around his head to cover the ruin of his left eye and the place where his left ear had been. The injury had done nothing to his appetite or his spirits.

He bellowed a toast and the table answered him, and he drained his cup and slammed it down and called for another. Akiyama Shin sat three seats to Jorin's right with the rest of the Steel Serpents, back straight, chopsticks held at the correct angle, his cup raised and lowered at measured intervals. Lodin noticed the disciple had better table manners than the patriarch of his own sect.

Kang Dae Han and Sarin Jeida sat across from each other near the middle, and the space between them had grown louder with every round of wine. Mayari Lakan occupied a seat near Lodin's end, quiet, a cup of something untouched before her. The surviving elders of the Steel Serpent and Jade Nettle Sects filled the rest of the seats, and their voices blended into a single warm roar that pressed against the lantern light and held the night at bay. Lorn sat back from his plate, a hand on his stomach.

"Pretty good kitchen here, yeah?" said Lodin, through a mouthful of food. Lorn nodded, looked out over the group gathered before them. Then he took up his cup, raised it and stood, and a hush fell over the conversation.

"I…" He hesitated with every eye on him.

"You all bled for me. I owe you a great debt." He opened his mouth to begin another sentence, but faltered. A few people smiled, amused. Then Mayari Lakan lifted her cup.

"You heard our karma screaming in the dark from a long way away, Lorn Lundgren. And so you came here to deliver it to us. Do not be troubled. We knew this day would come. I, for one, am grateful for the outcome we received."

"Here here," Jorin Shen added, and he raised his cup as well. A Steel Serpent Elder raised his cup.

"To Lorn of Joguo!"

"Lorn the White Dragon!" someone else called. A bout of approving laughter ensued. Then everyone raised their cups in salute, and had a drink. Lorn sat down afterward, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Lorn the White Dragon," said Lodin, with a frown.

"That's a good title. I need a title."

"How about Lodin the Loud Chewer," said Lorn. Lodin punched Lorn on the shoulder and he laughed.

"Mom sent word that she's on the way," Lodin said. For a moment there was a stricken look on Lorn's face, and then he nodded and took a sip of wine.

"She'll be happy to see us, I think." Lodin elbowed him.

"You think?" Lorn smiled sheepishly.

"I'm sure she was coming to help you. Now she'll just have to turn around and go back to Trondheim." Lodin considered that. He swished his wine around in his cup.

"We could hang here for a while," he said. Lorn raised an eyebrow. Lodin looked over at him.

"Your conscience is heavy. I can see it on your face. If you think you owe these people something, why don't we stay a while and help them out." The tension behind Lorn's eyes intensified.

"How could I possibly–" Lodin held up his hand.

"The essence of honor is reciprocity, right?" Lorn looked at him for a long moment. His jaw relaxed, and that tense something behind his eyes softened. He let out a breath that sounded like it had been trapped in his chest for months. His eyes fell to his cup, as if the answer were hiding in the wine. Then he nodded.

"Alright," said Lorn. But there was something else there. Lorn had a strange look in his eyes. Lodin kicked his foot.

"What else is eating you." Lorn's expression turned thoughtful as his gaze shifted back to Lodin. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

"Wandering Flame was young for a dragon, but old by our standards. He knew alot. And Huihun spent time in hell, plotting and scheming his escape. I'm doing my best to be normal, but… It's a lot. There's a lot swirling around between my ears right now, and it's hard to keep it all straight." Lodin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. There's a chance I know things Master Yan didn't even know." Lodin chuckled.

"He'd be grumpy to hear that." Lorn laughed and Lodin patted him on the shoulder, and then he leaned back in his seat, a cup of wine in one hand, and let the noise of the table take his attention. Mayari and Jorin had drawn their seats closer together and spoke in low voices that cut beneath the din. Lodin caught pieces of it. They were discussing the governorship, the question of who the Imperial House would send to replace Jun Fang.

There was also the matter of whether Han Yuan was alive or dead, and if the former, what condition would he be in. Whatever the case, the standing of the Divine Gale Sect would be diminished after this. As if Yi Dian had chosen that moment to read his mind from across the city, he received a note through the Jianghu Registry. – Our Patriarch has been grievously injured. No one's explained the situation, but based on what I've pieced together, I have a feeling you were involved.

I risk punishment for sending you this warning, but honor compels me to do so. You may want to lay low for a while. Regards, Yi Dian – He smiled wryly, dismissed the message and had a sip of wine. Next to them, Akiyama Shin had set his chopsticks across the rim of his bowl at the correct angle and folded his hands in his lap.

A Jade Nettle elder beside him was telling a story about her corner of the battle, arms wide, voice loud, and Shin listened with his chin raised and his back straight and a look on his face that might, if Lodin squinted, have been enjoyment. It was the most relaxed Lodin had ever seen him. Kang Dae Han had his arm around the shoulder of a Steel Serpent elder and the two of them swayed in unison and sang something Lodin did not recognize, off key and out of time.

Sarin Jeida sat across from them, her chin propped on her fist, a grin on her face that was equal parts amusement and drunkenness. Her crows had found the rafters of the pavilion and perched there in a line, silent, watching the table below with their black eyes. Sarin noticed him looking at her, winked at him. He grinned back, though he felt a little heat rise in his face. Her gaze drifted past him toward a stone path that wound between the trees.

She looked back at Lodin and tilted her head toward it, a sideways nod, a questioning look in her eyes. Lodin understood. He set his cup down and stood. Lorn's eyes moved from Lodin to Sarin and back, and his brow furrowed, and for one brief instant a look of brotherly jealousy crossed his face. Lodin smirked at Lorn and clapped him on the shoulder as he passed.

"Mind the table for me, White Dragon." He and Sarin followed the stone path away from the pavilion, past a stand of bamboo where the lantern light thinned to a pale glow. The noise of the table faded behind them. Somewhere in the garden a pond trickled, and frogs sang from the dark. A white deer with silvery eyes and antlers moved through the trees beside them. Sarin walked close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm.

"You looked good out there," she said.

"Out where? The lagoon?" She smirked and nodded. Lodin rubbed the back of his neck.

"I looked like a mess. Blood all over me."

"That's what I said. You looked good." Sarin turned to face him, and there was nothing coy in the way she looked at him. Her green eyes held his and her chin tilted up and she stood close enough that he could smell the sweat on her skin and the wine on her breath. His heart hammered against his ribs. His brain stalled out like a cart with a broken axle. She gave him an evil smile.

"You're easy meat, did you know that." Then she stepped closer. Her hand came up to the front of his vest and her fingers closed around the fabric and she pulled him down toward her. Their lips were an inch apart when her body seized. Her eyes went wide. Her grip on his vest turned to a fist and she buckled forward, her forehead pressed against his chest, and an alarming sound came out of her mouth, a strangled wail. Lodin's eyes went wide.

"Sarin?" She dropped to her knees on the stone path. Both hands clutched her stomach. Her face had gone white, and the veins at her temples stood out black against the pale skin, and her crows erupted from the pavilion rafters in a shrieking cloud that scattered into the dark. Lodin caught her before she hit the ground.

"Sarin. Talk to me." Her eyes found his. The green of them was bright and wild and afraid.

"My master," she said.

"Gutou. He's... someone is..." Her nails dug into Lodin's shoulder as another convulsion wracked her body. - - - - Worlds away, Mo Gutou's nails dug into the stone as another convulsion wracked his body. His back arched and his jaw locked open and his fingers clawed at the floor beneath him. The stabbing, piercing pain ran from his chest to the tips of his extremities and back, and every pulse of it stripped something vital from him. Little by little, to draw out the agony, he was being drained.

"I must say I am impressed. You did a great deal of damage. Truly I didn't think you had it in you. I always thought you were a bit of a disappointment, actually. Complacent. Lacking ambition. I'm pleased to be proven so wrong." Zhao Yujin sat in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other. Long black hair fell straight past his shoulders and spilled over the arm of the chair. His red eyes, the same red as Gutou's, watched his pupil's agony with satisfaction. Yujin's blue robes were immaculate.

Silver trim caught the lantern light at the cuffs and collar, and the fabric fell in clean lines despite the carnage in the corridors behind them, where Gutou's siblings lay in heaps, drained and broken.

"And you stretched a single feeding across a world and half a continent, no less. Still had enough left in you to consume so many of your brothers and sisters on arrival." Yujin tilted his head.

"That is no ordinary meal, Gutou. I find myself curious as to how you acquired it. But I won't trouble you with questions. The blood itself will tell me everything I need to know." A spasm tore through Gutou's chest. His teeth cracked against each other and his spine bowed off the stone and the room blurred to a red smear. He tried to scream. The sound that left his throat was thin and dry, the creak of a hinge that had rusted shut. Yujin extended his hand, palm up.

The pull that had been slow and measured became a flood. Gutou's skin drew tight across his skull. His fingers curled into claws at his sides. The vitality that Lodin Lundgren's blood had given him fled his body the way color leaves a sky at dusk. His muscles shrank. His veins emptied. The face he had worn in his prime collapsed, and the skeletal thing beneath it returned, worse than before, hollowed past what it had been, until the body on the floor looked like something that had been dead for centuries.

His master's voice reached him from very far away.

"Hush now. It will be over soon." A bead of liquid rose from Gutou's dessicated flesh, dark and dense, that climbed through skin and cloth, floated through the air and gathered above the palm of Yujin's hand. More followed. Drop by drop the blood collected until a sphere the size of a fist hovered above his pale fingers, pulsing with a faint warm light. Yujin brought the sphere close to his face. He breathed in its essence and his red eyes widened. Then he smiled.

"You had no idea whose blood this was," he said to the corpse.

"Did you." Gutou opened his mouth to plead for mercy, but there was no breath left in him. The last thing Mo Gutou saw was Yujin's face, flushed red with stolen life, eyes bright with pleasure. Then nothing at all.