It was like having cold water splashed in her face.

  Ling Qi blinked as her vision swam and the opulent temple interior she had glimpsed was replaced with a plain stone room with a bright bonfire burning in the center. The doors she had just passed were closed, and beneath her, the lines and characters of a formation flickered.

  “You have passed the second stage. Calm yourself and rest.” Instructor Zhou’s deep voice rang out from the raised stage at the other end of the room. He stood there, arms crossed, his expression just as hard and stern as ever as he looked down at her from over the bonfire, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel that there was the tiniest hint of approval in the man’s steely eyes.

  Ling Qi did her best to ignore the warmth she felt on her cheeks as she hurried away from the door. She didn’t want to end up getting bowled over by another entrant from behind, certainly not in front of Instructor Zhou or the…… another person on the stage? She squinted. There was a man lounging against the wall on the left side of the stage.

  It was the Elder from her very first day in the Sect, only this time, the odd man was wearing a minister’s robe that was a horribly eye-searing shade of orange. As she looked at him, he raised his head, apparently awakening from the light doze he had been in and looked back at her. Ling Qi felt pinned by his gaze, but the thin-faced man smiled as if at some private joke and glanced to the side, freeing her from his regard.

  Ling Qi quickly averted her eyes, taking in the other occupants of the room. There were surprisingly few of them. There were only six…… no, seven disciples here already. She had been the eighth to make it to the temple. Among them, she recognized only three.

  Gu Xiulan and Han Jian stood near the fire, and Han Jian raised his hand to wave to her when he saw her. He looked a bit crispy around the edges, his robe blackened at the hems and an ugly burn marred his cheek. In contrast, Gu Xiulan looked like a waterlogged cat, irritable and miserable. It made Ling Qi feel somewhat better about her own state.

  The last person she recognized was no surprise. Sun Liling sat cross-legged in a secluded corner of the room with a scowl on her face, otherwise looking none the worse for the wear. The room was quiet. Even those speaking were keeping their voices down to a low murmur. It seemed she would have to wait a while yet.

  With the glow of victory fading, Ling Qi felt rather wrung out. The encounter with that damn spider had been mentally exhausting, and the stress of sneaking through the outer city had not been restful either. Frankly, she could see the appeal of doing as Sun Liling had and just finding a quiet corner to sit down and meditate in. Who knew what the Elders would have them doing next?

  It might seem rude though. Han Jian and Gu Xiulan were both present, and if both she and they passed, they would be the only ones in the class that would be friendly to her. She had a feeling that her efforts to stay unnoticed would be for naught after this.

  It wasn’t as if she disliked them either. Well, she liked Han Jian; her feelings about Gu Xiulan were more complicated. The other girl intimidated her if she were honest, and Ling Qi didn’t quite know what to think about the girl’s actions toward her.

  She found herself recalling the mocking words of her reflections. It would be better to have allies. The Sect wasn’t like the city. The rules were different, and so was she, and even if she was still weak…… well, she had proven that she had some value, right? Making it here

  to prove that.

  Ling Qi walked toward her two teammates, attempting to appear unfazed by the appraising looks she was receiving from the other disciples in the room. For better or worse, she had done something to stand out, and people would be paying attention to her. She couldn’t just run to another district this time. She would have to be much more careful in the future.

  “Ling Qi. Looks like you made it. Great job,” Han Jian greeted her warmly, smiling despite the burn on his cheek. She gave him a tentative smile in return, allowing herself to relax.

  “Congratulations,” Gu Xiulan added. Ling Qi thought she detected a bit of surprise in the other girl’s demeanor, but she wasn’t sure. The way the other girl’s cosmetics had begun to run and smear made it harder to read her expression. “And you made it through unmarked as well. How did you manage that?”


  “I…… managed to surprise the boy who had my sun token,” Ling Qi admitted sheepishly. “He thought I was just a mortal.” She plucked at the frayed cloth of her new clothing for emphasis. “It’s how I got past the others circling the inner city gates too. No one pays attention to commoners,” she added wryly.

  Han Jian chuckled, and Gu Xiulan looked thoughtful.

  “I had wondered why you changed into such dreary rags,” the other girl said, looking Ling Qi up and down contemplatively. “I cannot say that I would employ such methods myself, but I can see the use in them.”


  “Of course you wouldn’t,” Han Jian interjected dryly. “You could never avoid the spotlight for that long.”


  Gu Xiulan pouted prettily at the taller boy, crossing her arms under her chest as she turned back to face him. “And what is wrong with that? No one should ever forget encountering me.”


  Ling Qi let out a small sigh. It was a little irritating that even with her make-up running and her clothing in disarray, Gu Xiulan was still so much more attractive than her. She didn’t miss that Han Jian’s gaze had flickered down, let alone the way Gu Xiulan drew attention from the other boys in the room……

  Not that she wanted that sort of attention. It was just annoying that some people had all the luck when it came to appearance, talent, and wealth.

  “So, what happened with you two?” Ling Qi asked. “Why did you end up taking the lake path, Gu Xiulan?”


  “Hm? I did not have much choice in the matter. I was forced to travel between a number of small islands,” Gu Xiulan responded, turning her attention back to Ling Qi.

  “That miserable excuse for a watercraft I was provided with capsized several times,” she added darkly. “I do believe I hate the ocean. It is going to take ages to fix the damage done by the saltwater.”


  “Oh, have you managed to learn how to swim in the last couple years, Xiulan?” Han Jian asked, sounding amused. “I seem to remember……”


  “Hold your tongue, you terrible man. What of you then? I suppose you managed to trip into a campfire?” Gu Xiulan said hastily, looking genuinely embarrassed. Ling Qi had a feeling that it was only because the one poking fun at Gu Xiulan was Han Jian. Anyone else would probably have gotten a less pleasant response.

  Han Jian laughed, sheepishly rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Well, something like that. I got…… entangled with a flame spirit while searching for my star token.” His smile faded, and he seemed a bit distant.

  Ling Qi was distracted then by the arrival of another disciple. It was a broad-shouldered boy with short-cropped golden hair and darkly tanned skin. By the time Elder Zhou greeted him he had left the entryway to join a sharp-featured girl with luxurious waist-length black hair and a disproportionately long sword sheathed in a blue scabbard on her shoulder.

  “So, Ling Qi.” She blinked in surprise as Gu Xiulan turned to address her, pulling her from her observation of the other disciples. “I do believe we have earned ourselves some luxury. There is a hidden mineral spring on the mountain that my Elder Sister deigned to inform me of. Would you care to join me after this is all said and done? I am not the only one who looks like she could use a warm soak.”


  Ling Qi stopped herself from frowning. She supposed she was still a bit muddy and damp, but the other girl’s little offers and gifts were starting to bother her. She didn’t know why Gu Xiulan was being so amiable.

  “Maybe. Why?” She asked, almost wincing at how bluntly it came out.

  Gu Xiulan gave her a slightly exasperated look. “It is hardly a good idea for a lady to bathe alone in such a setting. Who knows what might happen? Besides, it only makes sense for us to get to know one another better, does it not? Unless you intend for this to be the last time we work together.”


  Ah, did Gu Xiulan just decide to be blunt right back? Ling Qi wasn’t really sure how to respond.

  “Well, no. I – I think we made a good team.” Ling Qi hated the way she managed to stumble on her response. “I think I need to cultivate tonight, however…… Maybe another day?”


  Gu Xiulan pursed her lips but eventually nodded. “Very well. I suppose we all likely have some things to meditate on after today.” Thankfully, Gu Xiulan didn’t seem to be angry at Ling Qi’s refusal.

  Ling Qi noticed Han Jian giving Gu Xiulan an unreadable look while the girl was focused on her, but when Gu Xiulan’s eyes shifted to him, his expression had relaxed back into a smile.

  “Ling Qi probably has the right idea,” he added supportively before glancing toward the entrance.

  “I hope Yu and Fang make it through as well, but I admit I’m worried that we’ll have another test if too many people succeed.”


  Ling Qi frowned at the thought. She had hoped that maybe enough people would fail that a third test wouldn’t be necessary. As if to mock that hope, the entrance formation flashed then, and another disciple entered.

  This time, it was a short and rather effeminate boy with long, silky hair. Half of the upper part of his robe was missing, leaving his shoulder and part of his chest exposed. There were a series of wounds across his torso that made it look like he had been clawed by some huge beast.

  Ling Qi frowned at the newcomer as he stumbled his way across the room…… to Sun Liling. Huh. Ling Qi hadn’t thought much of it, but the red-haired girl hadn’t gone into the test alone. Sun Liling’s dark expression lightened a tad when she saw the boy enter, and he smiled weakly at her. Ling Qi couldn’t hear whatever was said between them, but it ended with the redhead cuffing him lightly on the back of the head and evidently ordering him to sit down and clean up.

  She shook her head and turned her attention back to her own group.

  “We’ll make it through even if there’s another test. I didn’t go through all that for nothing,” Ling Qi said with more conviction than she really felt.

  “A good attitude to have,” Gu Xiulan said absently, shifting closer to the fire. “Obviously, we aren’t going to fail at this point,” she added with a more genuine confidence.

  The three of them continued to chat idly while Ling Qi sat down to rest her feet. She stayed quiet for the most part as disciples continued to trickle in. She didn’t have context for a lot of the things her two teammates spoke of, but it was nice regardless. She almost felt like she actually belonged.

  Ling Qi did manage to pick up a few things about her companions from context. Han Jian was an only child, but Gu Xiulan had a number of older sisters. Han Jian’s father was a general, and the relation Gu Xiulan’s family had to his was unclear but subordinate. Gu Xiulan’s family were also apparently very, very wealthy.

  Han Jian did his best to include her in the conversation when he could, which she was thankful for, but in the end there simply wasn’t much for her to say. The room steadily filled up as the remaining time ticked away, and Han Fang finally emerged from the formation some thirty minutes into the wait, making him…… the seventeenth in if her count was correct. The tall boy looked significantly worse for wear with both sleeves reduced to tattered shreds and his muscular forearms looking as if they had been scoured bloody with sandpaper.

  He came over to them without hesitation and sat down heavily, letting out a raspy sigh as he gave her a nod of acknowledgement. His presence didn’t do much to change the conversation; Han Fang seemed content with Han Jian’s initial congratulations and little else. She hadn’t really noticed it before, but Gu Xiulan seemed almost dismissive of the large boy, offering him a polite greeting and then largely ignoring him. Ling Qi wasn’t quite sure what to make of the attitude. It didn’t seem malicious, but it was strange. Unfortunately, she didn’t really have a polite way of asking about it so she let it go…… The rate of disciples finishing began to increase steadily after Han Fang’s arrival though those who came in at this point were in rather poor condition.

  By the time Elder Zhou clapped his hands together to draw everyone’s attention, there were more than forty disciples in the room. Fan Yu was not among them.

  “The second phase has now come to an end.” Elder Zhou’s voice overrode any lingering noise from the crowd of disciples, and those sitting down moved to stand at attention. “Through wit or strength, you have succeeded at the trials placed before you. I have no doubt that every one of you has gained something of value in this test. However, I have one final task for all of you. In the first test, I saw which of you could lead and how well you could function in groups of your own devising. In the second, with help from Elder Jiao, I saw what you could accomplish with your own power.”


  The gray-skinned man in the hideous robes smiled lazily in acknowledgment of Elder Zhou’s words.

  “In this final test, I will see how well you are able to cooperate with those who are not friends or allies. A soldier of the Empire must put aside personal grievances and rivalries when in service. This will be the final test.” Elder Zhou scanned the room, meeting each disciple’s gaze in turn.

  “Now……”


  “Mm. Hold on a moment, will you, Sect Brother Zhou?” Ling Qi blinked as the moment was broken by the other man speaking up. Elder Jiao pushed himself up from the wall, an amused expression on his face.

  “Since I so graciously provided my expertise for your second test, I’d like to make a suggestion.”


  Threads 18

  Ling Qi raised her flute to her lips, looking back at the eyeless visages of the rat things that were finally beginning to orient onto the two of them through the mist. There were more than a dozen of them, and the sand bulged with more burrowers. Ling Qi resumed her song, flowing effortlessly into the echo that had been kept going by her qi. The sound of her flute echoed eerily in the small cavern, turning twitching heads toward her as she strode towards the center.

  She began the Starlight Elegy, and the cloying mist grew colder and heavier. She watched dispassionately as a particularly quick rat thing that had thus far avoided the claws of her phantoms faltered and slowed, its limbs growing sluggish until a phantasmal beast tore out its throat with hungry fangs. The scene was repeated all across the cavern, again and again, beasts emerging just to die, most before they could even react.

  These things were not normal, Ling Qi could tell. Beasts, even spirit beasts, did not charge headlong into certain death like this, not without good reason. She supposed that she would find out those reasons with the arrival of the third realms. A rat thing loped and skittered toward her, letting out a chittering shriek though blood-frothed jaws, and she watched as it veered away from her to crash into the wall, torn by phantasmal claws. Beasts like this…… They couldn’t even overcome her Diapason to find her in the mist.

  She began the final stanza of the Melody then, the Traveler’s End, and the image of a misty vale under the dark moon imposed itself over the sandy cavern. The echoing cries of her phantoms joined the melody as her qi lent them greater solidity. No more just disembodied claws, fangs, and hungry eyes, her phantoms were now stalking shadows in the shapes of beasts.

  As she laid down the technique, the first loping forms became visible in the tunnels. Bulkier than their burrowing counterparts with rubbery grey skin and visages that were more canine than rodent, the twisted beasts howled and gibbered, claws scratching and tearing at the stone. In response, Ling Qi’s flying sword shot out from the mist, letting loose a discordant wail as it soared down the nearer tunnel, sending the beasts within shying back, brackish black blood leaking from their ears.

  But there were two tunnels, and the ugly beasts were only stymied, not stopped. They poured into the cavern, first in pairs and trios, and then in growing numbers. The claws of her phantoms met resistance in their rubbery hide, though their hide could not stop them entirely. Larger beasts, less like twisted men and more like great apes in size and stature, stalked among their lesser kin, and their jeering howls hardened hides and sharpened fangs. Others had backs bristling with bony growths, tumorous and twisted but poking from diseased flesh with menacing points. Her phantoms were no longer enough against the growing pack. The creatures’ attention was still on her, but Ling Qi was all too aware of her friend behind her, searching the walls of the cavern.

  So Ling Qi ensured that their attention would remain on her. With the Traveler’s End complete, the mist called by the Forgotten Vale Melody would sustain itself, and so she began her second song. Ice crept over sand, and a handful of rat things that had found their way close through coincidence, pushed by the growing mob, chittered in pain as frost spread across flesh and blood began to freeze. Ling Qi grimaced as she felt the things’ oily qi draining into her, and she sidestepped around clumsy lunges and snapping teeth. Most of the oily qi washed against her skin, leaving her feeling oddly dirty, but a trickle of qi flowed back into her reserves, restoring some of what she had spent.

  She had lost count of the number of beasts pouring into the cavern, and although the whistling wail of her sword lashed the bodies coming up the tunnels and her phantoms continued to do work, the mob of creatures were reaching her through the mazes of mist due to theraw crush of bodies. The cacophony of hisses and growls almost drowned out the echo of her melody. Yet she couldn’t afford to step back, and so Ling Qi made room in another way.

  The third technique of the Frozen Soul Serenade was not one she had used often in active combat. It lashed out at everything nearby, regardless of whether they were friend or foe. Li Suyin was well behind her though, so she felt no need to hold back. The shrieks of the beasts and the haunting melody alike were drowned out momentarily as the frigid howl of deepest winter rang out through the cavern. The beasts nearest to Ling Qi did not even scream, the sound lost in their throat as flesh and blood alike froze solid. Those further back gibbered and yowled, partially shielded by their nearer comrades, but great swathes of their rubbery hides still froze and sloughed off or cracked and wept viscous, slushy fluid.

  The fight was only just beginning though. The mob still numbered beyond easy count, and even the snarling storm of snowflakes that had sprung up around her in the mist, frozen moisture turning to short-lived snow, failed to deter the beasts. She felt the qi armoring the beasts growing thicker as more and more of the beasts reinforced each other, their filthy-feeling qi roiling and flowing together. Most still wandered off-course, getting turned around and running into their brethren, but Ling Qi was forced to duck and twist and dodge, avoiding a half dozen snatching claws and bony projectiles.

  Looking over the writhing mass of flesh as they poured forward, the sheer weight shattering their frozen comrades, Ling Qi spied something new. There, crouched on the lip of the further tunnel was another creature, smaller than most of them. The others slid around it, never once approaching. The new creature, an eyeless thing with rubbery grey skin and a canine visage, resembled the creatures of the second wave the most. Yet unlike the others, it crouched like a man rather than a beast, and around its neck, she saw a necklace of glowing purple stones carved into strange shapes. In its right forelimbs, it loosely held a strange stone knife.

  The thing let out a few barking yips that had the cadence of speech and then drove the knife into the sand. Even in the chaos of the scrum, Ling Qi felt the ripple of qi that washed over the horde. That one had taken the first steps into the third realm. Ling Qi did not have much time to think on that because suddenly, far fewer of the beasts were stumbling around, hopelessly lost in their effort to reach her.

  Faced with the snarling swarm now finally pressing down on her position in more than dribs and drabs, Ling Qi stepped forward. Dark qi flooded through her limbs, and she flowed through the storm of attacks like a wraith. Ling Qi had no time for thought, only reaction. Claws and slavering maws reached for her, and bony spines screeched through the air. She moved perfectly, flowing around strike after strike, while other attacks passed through her form in puffs of dark mist.

  All the while, she moved forward, every step carrying her further into her enemies’ reach. Soon, she was surrounded. Then winter sang, and beasts died. Claws that reached for her flash froze and exploded into pinkish mist, frozen blood swelling in suddenly rigid veins like the sap of a tree in the deepest depths of winter. She kept her eyes fixed on the third realm beast that was her goal. With a mental tug, she pulled back on her flying sword, recalling her blade from where it stymied the flow of beasts in the other tunnel.

  For its part, the beast that was her target seemed aware of its situation. It let out an alarmed bark at her unstopped advance, scrambling backward even as it raised its knife defensively. Another pulse of filthy qi rippled out, and the beasts around her let loose with blood-curdling howls.

  From the pores and jaws, a crimson mist began to emerge in thin streamers, mingling with the cloying fog of her melody. The claws of her phantoms, which had thus far still been tearing bloody lines in exposed flanks of dozens of beasts, began to deflect off of suddenly stony hides, and the creatures’ claws and fangs gained a metallic sheen that shone in the dull red light cast by the mist leaking from opened jaws.

  Through her connection to her sword, she also felt two other third realm presences approaching. Thankfully, the influx of lesser beasts was finally beginning to taper off. She felt something soft and viscous strike her Singing Mist Blade then, and suddenly, it could not move, stuck to the wall by something clinging and jelly-like.

  She couldn’t allow herself to be distracted by the capture of her flying sword. From every side came attacks, their ferocity and power greater than before. Plumes of sand were kicked up in their wake, choking the already flooded battlefield further.

  In that moment, all thought fled Ling Qi. There was only the cavern and the weapons of her foes. Viridian light gleamed beneath her robes as a facsimile of centennial bark spread across her skin, but she knew it would not be enough. And so, as she was attacked from every side, Ling Qi stilled.

  Ling Qi twitched her head to the right, avoiding a lashing claw that would have taken her eye by a mere millimeter. She stepped, and her body flowed a meter to her right, reforming from darkness and leaving a volley of crimson spines to strike the sand where she had been. There was no wasted movement. She avoided claws by a hair’s breadth, grew immaterial to gnashing fangs, and let those few that she could not avoid skate off of viridian bark and rustling cloth, nothing more than glancing blows.

  Ling Qi felt like she had finally understood the lesson taught by Sable Crescent’s Grace. She understood motion without motion and presence without presence. She found the moment of understanding fading quickly, but some knowledge remained, and she found herself dodging with a sable grace that she had not had before.

  She leaned to the side, avoiding the flung corpse of a rat thing with hardly a thought, and her flute sang again of winter. Even through their armor and bolstering qi, a dozen beasts died.

  Behind her, she heard a sound like shattering pottery, and glancing back, she saw Li Suyin standing by a hole broken in the stone wall. In the cavity beyond, slowly pulsating, fleshy eggs glowed with faint luminescence. At her back, Suyin’s guardians stood in a shield wall, and in front of them was a metallic cone atop a stake driven into the ground, hissing faintly as it discharged something into the air.

  In front of her, two loping figures emerged from the second tunnel. Like the other third realm beast, they were smaller than the other creatures and carried tools. These two wore bandoleers made of some pale leather across their chests, hung with pouches. They unholstered spears from their backs, and cackling high-pitched laughter spilled from their snaggle-toothed maws.

  Very few beasts were emerging from the tunnels now, but the cavern was still filled with the mass of flesh, despite her culling.

  It looked like the real fight was about to begin.

  Ling Qi considered her real foes, and they considered her in turn. The sounds of the gibbering swarm seemed to fade. The lesser spirits were effectively just the third realms’ weapons after all. As she stared at the knife wielder’s eyeless visage, Ling Qi admitted to herself that it was a relief to once again face down simple enemies, things that didn’t deserve mercy or consideration.

  All at once, the world seemed to come back to life. Her fingers twitched, and she played the first note of the Elegy again. Her enemy’s eyes widened, and it let out an alarmed yip, raising its knife as if to ward her off. As the mists churned and thickened, encircling the knife-wielding beast, its own oily qi pulsed, and Ling Qi blinked as she felt the net of qi she had woven slide off of the beast and snap shut around one of the ape-like beasts instead. The ape thing let out a piteous yowl as her qi entrapped it, throwing its head back and forth in a wild panic as her mist cut it off entirely from its fellows. Ling Qi had no time to consider her technique’s failure though.

  She dissolved into dark mist as a grey missile shot through where she stood a moment before, rematerializing atop the back of one of the many beasts still flooding the room. The spear-wielding beast that had lunged at her let out a high-pitched cackle as its oddly bent legs struck the ground and sent it rebounding toward the ceiling like a child’s ball. A second time, she slid to the side, avoiding by a hair the bone-tipped spear and the sizzling purple toxin that leaked from its tip, and then a third, she dodged, bending backwards to be almost parallel to the ground as the beast rebounded directly backwards, thrusting the barbed back end through the space her torso had just occupied.

  The beast she had landed on had been pounded to the ground, but its fellows were not so impaired. In her distraction, the third beast had time to act as well. As she straightened up from her dodge, she saw it reach one of its twisted hands into a pouch and pull it back out, clutching a fistful of viscous black ooze. Ling Qi prepared to dodge a throw, but instead, the beast simply gave a light toss, letting the lump of goo land atop a pile of broken, frozen flesh that had once been several beasts.

  The ooze immediately began to hiss and bubble violently, spreading and consuming flesh as it sunk into the shattered corpses. Ling Qi hesitated, unsure. She gave her flying sword a second mental tug but found it still entrapped, somehow stopped from even dematerializing. She considered again her foes and what she had seen so far.

  Ling Qi dissolved into shadow. Uncaring of obstacles, Ling Qi flowed through the shadows of beasts, springing forth into existence behind the beast that had flung the ooze. Before the creature could so much as flinch, her flute sang a blizzard’s howl, focused down on a single point, and hoarfrost spread across its rubbery hide.

  The creature cried out in pain, stumbling away from her with blood oozing from frostbitten patches spreading across cold-cracked flesh. The first one, the knife-wielding one supporting the beasts, was dangerous, but it was a danger in decline. Some of the weaker members of the mob were beginning to drop mewling into the sand, exhausted and lethargic from her Starlight Elegy. The direct attacker was dangerous – as she dodged repeated blows from its spear, she winced when a spray of fine purple mist erupted from the point of its spear, sizzling as it seeped through her renewed armor and burned against her skin – but it was a danger she could handle.

  The third one, though, had entrapped her domain weapon and was doing something strange to the corpses. She would rather eliminate the unknown variable. She paid for her choice as she was nearly buried by the horde of beasts again. Here and there, she miscalculated by a fraction, and she felt the prick of teeth faintly through her armor.

  Yet Ling Qi remained confident. While her qi was slowly draining because the trickle of pure qi Ling Qi was able to absorb from the tainted mass could not quite keep up with the liberal expense of her attacks, she felt like she was winning.

  Keeping her focus on the yipping third beast as it rummaged through its pouches and scrambled away from her, she flowed again, bypassing the cloud of filthy-feeling yellow powder it flung up in her path. Again, her flute sang, but this time, it was without focus. Now that it was among the crowd, she might as well reduce their numbers while battering it with cold. This had the advantage of icing over the bubbling muck it had flung as well. Ice-crusted flesh cracked and squished beneath her feet as she danced atop the carpet of bodies. Tendrils of oily qi brushing across her spirit drew her eyes to the knife wielder. Its twisted face seemed to be showing a growing alarm. Inside her mind, Sixiang let out a tittering laugh and brushed away whatever the effect was with contemptuous ease.

  She suffered another scratch as the spear-wielding beast managed to catch her off guard, cutting through cloth and viridian qi with a sizzling, acidic hiss, leaving a burning line across her shoulder. Its partner let out a low, defiant snarl as she bore down on it, ripping the entire pouch that it had pulled the ooze from and flinging it at her. Ling Qi dodged with ease.

  Winter cried out again, and the third beast was silenced, just like the dozen of its nearby lesser kin. As the flurry of pink snowflakes fell around her, Ling Qi turned to face the other two and restrained a smile as she felt her flying sword tug loose of the dissolving trap it lay in. She called her sword back and sent it spiralling out at the knife wielder in a screaming blur. She met the spear wielder’s eyeless gaze where it crouched atop a frozen corpse and saw cold calculation in its body language.

  The beast cocked its head to the side, and its snaggle-toothed maw stretched into an ugly expression that might have been called a smile. Ling Qi tensed in preparation. Then, she was left blinking, bewildered, as her opponent shot away, reducing the frozen corpse it had been crouched on into a mass of pink slush, and vanished down the tunnel it had come from.

  The corpses beneath her feet rumbled ominously. Ling Qi shot straight up, carried on the wings of her cloak as the carpet of flesh erupted in churning black slime. Living beasts screamed as arm-thick tendrils of drooping sludge dragged them into the main mass, and the bubbles on its surface seemed to scream as they popped, the shadows of faces forming beneath the surface and fading just as fast as the mass began to spread.

  Alarmingly, Ling Qi felt her mist dissolving where the slime touched, the qi infusing the water vapor draining away as if into a hungry void. Ling Qi grimaced as she once again played Zeqing’s song, and while the tendrils reaching for her froze and crumbled, she felt a leeching drain as the technique drew more than it should have from her reserves to do its work. Worse, it didn’t really feel like she had done the muck much harm. Its aura was already third realm and still swelling with power, and its rapid growth was filling the cavern fast as well. Even if Ling Qi could beat this thing, Li Suyin would quickly run out of room to avoid it if they remained here.

  Darting out of the sky, Ling Qi snatched the half-frozen bandoleer from the body of the foe she had killed and held out her right hand, drawing the bodies of as many beasts as she could fit into her ring then shot away from the spreading mess at high speed. Through her sword, she could feel the knife wielder scrambling away as well, letting out alarmed yips.

  “Li Suyin, I think it’s time to go,” Ling Qi said tersely as she rematerialized beside her friend. “You’ve got what you need, right?”


  Suyin nodded quickly, glancing at the reaching tendrils in alarm. Half of the nest she had opened was empty by now. “Yes, I can’t carry any more as it is. I already had Yi set explosive charms around the entrance just in case, so……”


  Ling Qi grinned tightly and patted Suyin on the shoulder as she recalled her sword from chasing the fleeing knife wielder down the tunnel. “Time to run then!”


  Threads 19-Dreams 1

  As they fled the cavern at Suyin’s top speed, the roar of explosions and collapsing stone at their back, Ling Qi could not help but laugh. No, she really couldn’t let fear control her because

  is what being alive felt like. As they reached the top of the dead beetle’s tunnel that they had originally followed and Li Suyin stopped to gasp for breath, she saw a little bit of a grin in the other girl’s expression as well.

  If she had followed her knee-jerk instinct and simply focused on keeping her friend out of danger, could Suyin smile like that? If she had treated Suyin like a fragile vase that needed to be kept on a shelf, wasn’t that insulting?

  Perhaps she had been thinking of things the wrong way.

  “Ling Qi, are you alright?” Li Suyin asked as she straightened up, her face still red from exertion. “You’re staring.”


  “I’m fine,” Ling Qi said. “Are you satisfied with your take, Suyin?”


  The girl nodded happily. “Yes! I’ve acquired so much more than I could have hoped for! And it was amazing seeing you fight like that. I’m sure that once I break through, we’ll be able to go even deeper!”


  Yeah, Ling Qi decided. She had to think about what it meant to protect her friends.

  ***

  In the days that followed their expedition, Li Suyin vanished into her workshop, and Ling Qi did not begrudge her for it. She hadn’t missed the way that Li Suyin’s eyes had lit up when she handed over the bandoleer she had torn from the beast’s corpse. She expected her friend would be doing the equivalent of closed door cultivation for most of the month’s remainder.

  Ling Qi’s plans were not so far from that. She had been given one of Suyin’s meridian cleansing wands, and it would definitely be helpful for her efforts. Between the expensive pills purchased from the Sect market at the cost of most of her points and her newly improved cultivation, Ling Qi planned to make this a very productive month. However, the days when Ling Qi would thoughtlessly retreat into meditation without consideration for anyone else were well past, so Ling Qi was sure to take care of her obligations first.

  Her friends were all settling into their own routines in the Inner Sect. Meizhen was getting comfortable in her new home, which wasn’t much larger than her own but was definitely better appointed. Xiulan was in the midst of heavy cultivation, catching up on arts which advancement had been stymied by her partial breakthrough.

  Everyone was quite busy. Ling Qi found herself drifting to the archive when she was not making preparations for her upcoming cultivation binge or attending to Cai Renxiang. It was a center of activity, and Ling Qi still needed to keep an eye on her peers. While she wasn’t sure if she intended to challenge this month, she could be challenged by another.

  She hadn’t expected it to be so dull. Sitting in a corner, a tome on Imperial history open in her hands, Ling Qi tried to keep her mind from wandering. Listening to the murmur of small conversations throughout the archive, she thought she might go a little stir crazy. While she knew that she wouldn’t get anything really interesting with this method, the mundanity of a cultivator’s day-to-day lives still surprised her sometimes.

  Remembering the cavern expedition and the nightmare before it, it seemed so incongruous that cultivators could still be interested in petty concerns when they were, one and all, people with real power at their fingertips in a world filled with tribulations and challenges. She was being unfair she knew, and she supposed she wasn’t any better. Hadn’t she spent yesterday morning just chatting with Meizhen about nothing in particular?

  But it didn’t help that even Sixiang was silent again, leaving her alone in her own head to try and focus on other people when the siren call of cultivation was singing in the back of her mind. Sighing, Ling Qi refocused her eyes on the text in front of her, listening carefully to the snippets of conversation that reached her ears.

  Then she found herself distracted again. This time, she was distracted by the feel of a familiar aura moving through her senses. A bolt of lightning stalked the archives, tense and crackling, tiny arcs of electricity snapping and coiling at any that dared approach it. There was only one person Ling Qi knew who cultivated heavenly qi to such an extent and singular purpose. At his side moved a frolicking wind that danced around the lightning, poking, prodding, and floating away laughing when the lightning snapped and crackled in turn.

  “Junior Brother Rong, to make an enemy of the archivists so early in the year. You truly do excel.” She heard the second of the pair’s voices first, and it conjured to her the image of a rather pompous fellow.

  “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. This is all the books, right?” the living lightning snapped testily. Ji Rong was as taciturn as ever, but it looked like he had made a new friend.

  “Just the one more,” the other voice replied lightly, and Ling Qi heard the sound of leather striking flesh. He had presumably tossed Ji Rong another book.

  “Fu Fan’s Guide to Administration for the Simple…… Are you making fun of me, you windbag?” She could practically hear the twitch of Ji Rong’s eyebrow.

  “Hmph. To show so little respect for your kind senior, Junior Brother Rong. Where did I go wrong in raising you?” The stranger laughed. “Off to the reading room, you. This Senior Brother has his own tasks to attend to.”


  Ling Qi caught sight of the second speaker then, moving swiftly between the aisles in front of the reading area she occupied. His mustache was rather ridiculous looking, but he seemed pretty unassuming otherwise. That set her on edge; she couldn’t clearly read his aura. He was gone as fast as he appeared.

  “Jackass,” Ji Rong muttered to himself as he slouched around the corner, cradling an armful of books. “What I get for askin’ that guy for help.”


  He looked up then as he trod on the plush carpeting that marked out one of the reading areas in the archive.

  Ling Qi restrained herself from matching his grimace with her own. “You never struck me as the type, Baron Ji,” she said dryly, eyeing the titles of the books he held. Treatises on leadership, logistics, and yes, administration, filled out most of the stack.

  “What’s it to you?” he asked, meeting her eyes defiantly. “You think I’m too stupid to learn anything but punching or something?”


  Ling Qi debated just leaving, but curiosity drove her to ask. “Why these books? Did my phantoms jar something loose when they were spinning you around?”


  Ji Rong looked like he wanted to spit blood at the reminder of his loss. She found it funnier than she probably should have. “Dunno. Why do you care about the past all of a sudden?” he spat in return.

  Ling Qi glanced down at the book in her hands that she had been casually perusing. “Even if it doesn’t matter, seeing the patterns is important, I think,” she replied, thinking back to her encounter in the dream and Senior Brother Liao’s own words on the futility of it. “I’ll leave you to your study,” Ling Qi said, closing her book and standing. There wasn’t much point in antagonizing him, aside from petty satisfaction.

  And she had already indulged in that. Doing more would just be gluttonous.

  As she moved to pass him by, Ji Rong spoke. “They aren’t any different,” he said. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve been a shit Boss in the Sect so far.”


  Ling Qi paused, eyeing the scarred boy without turning her head. “Are you making the comparison that I think you’re making?” she asked, vaguely incredulous.

  He let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, guess I am. Gang Boss, Baron, Viscount, Count, Duke, Emperor. It’s all a matter of scale, innit.” He shook his head. “I’m never gonna be leading packs in a fight like that Cai or her pet giant, but if a Boss is what I am, I’m not gonna be a shit one.”


  “That’s not the kind of thing you should say, Sect Brother,” Ling Qi said dryly. “Please consider your words more before you tarnish the Sect’s reputation.”


  “Whatever,” he snorted. “I’m outta here in a couple years anyway. Not gonna run off and leave her alone like the rest of those parasites.” He turned away from her then, resuming his path toward the reading desk in the far corner.

  Ling Qi shook her head as she began to move toward the archive’s exit. She supposed that statement at least answered clearly what was going on between Sun Liling and Ji Rong.

  She paused as Sixiang spoke. Something about the spirit’s voice felt insubstantial, or even fragile. It didn’t sound right.

  Ling Qi thought back immediately.

  Sixiang laughed. “It’s just, uh, I might’ve put a little too much into my project. I’m almost done. I just need a little more…… Could you find somewhere with a better background, Qi? Please?> Sixiang’s voice seemed to fade and waver in and out with every word.

  What in the world had they done? Ling Qi thought with alarm, picking up her pace. Why would they do something dangerous without even telling her? Ling Qi had a sudden sinking feeling that she now knew how Meizhen felt sometimes about Ling Qi’s adventures.

  Ling Qi made a beeline for the archive’s exit, barely pausing to turn her book in. The moment she stepped outside, her feet left the ground, her gown snapping and rustling in the wind as she soared away from the archive.

  She landed in front of her door in a flutter of silk and swept inside without pause, her steps taking her unerringly toward her meditation room. Between one step and the next, her silhouette flickered, skipping entire stretches of distance. In only moments, she was before the heavy door that marked the vent chamber.

  Ling Qi opened the door with a shove, striding through uncaring as the stone slab reverberated with the force of its rebound from the wall. The silvery mist let off by the vent washed over her, tingling on her skin.

  “Did you need anything else, Sixiang?” she asked aloud, brows furrowed. “This is good enough, right? I can find somewhere more potent……”


  Sixiang whispered.

  Ling Qi frowned mightily. The way her friend’s voice faded in and out seemed like ample reason to worry. However, she had already done what the spirit had asked, and as the door behind her closed and sealed, the clinging silver mist only grew thicker. She felt a trickle of the room’s energies being drawn inward, the way it did when she cultivated here, so presumably Sixiang was already working to restore themselves.

  She forced herself to take a deep breath and moved to seat herself. Sixiang wanted to show her something, and she would have to remain here until the spirit was done with whatever they were doing, so she might as well indulge them. Besides, even if it was only in her own head, seeing Sixiang would ease her nerves.

  So, as she settled into a meditative position before the vent, Ling Qi closed her eyes and cut the flow of qi that served to salve her body’s mortal needs for rest. It took only a brief moment of concentration after that to send her mind drifting off to sleep.

  Ling Qi found herself once again seated atop a mound of cushions and blankets. Sixiang’s dreamscape had not changed much since the last time she had visited. The endless mounds of pillows and cushions were arranged more neatly with lanes between for easy movement. Stepping off of the mound she had awoken on, Ling Qi found the off-white ground to have the texture of fine cloth and the springiness of a high quality mattress.

  “Sixiang?” she called, walking between the pillow mounds toward the sound of lapping water. “Sixiang, where are you?”


  “Everywhere and Nowhere.” Ling Qi twitched as Sixiang’s voice emanated from the air around her, sounding floaty.

  “That’s not very helpful,” Ling Qi replied dryly, crossing her arms and looking up at the rainbow mist that comprised the sky. “Seriously, are you alright?”


  “Mmm, I think so,” Sixiang whispered. “I guess I gave you a scare, huh?”


  “Just a little,” Ling Qi said. “Why were you fading out?”


  “It’s like being a butterfly, you know? The caterpillar can’t reach the world outside its cocoon,” Sixiang mused.

  “But now I’m inside the cocoon too,” Ling Qi said, shaking her head. “Why did you need me to come to a site then?”


  “I didn’t want to nap for a month like that sleepy boy of yours,” Sixiang laughed. “And, hm, I think it will be better this way. I want to show you something.”


  Ling Qi felt a tug at her right hand, and she had the impression of phantom fingers grasping hers, urging her along the path. Not needing any more prompting, Ling Qi resumed walking along the path. “Alright, that’s fine. I wish you would have warned me,” she said grumpily.

  “It’s not like I know what I’m doing,” Sixiang replied, amused.

  Ling Qi did not find that comforting. Still, she kept walking, and as she walked around a particularly large pillow mountain, she saw again the sea of color. Last time, it had felt unfinished and unreal, but now, bright blue waves crashed upon rocks of garish orange and yellow, the ripples in the water perfectly realistic. The fluid shifted in color, bright blue to shimmering jade to darkest indigo with more colors in between. It was oddly beautiful.

  “Is this what you wanted to show me?” Ling Qi asked. It was a pretty sight, but it seemed like an awfully trivial thing.

  “That mindset……” Sixiang sighed. “But no, what I want to show you is here though.”


  In response to Sixiang’s words, Ling Qi just raised her eyebrows, giving the misty sky an expectant look.

  “I’ve seen your memories. Experienced the clearer ones, and read the wisps of the rest,” Sixiang said thoughtfully. “It’s just…… we’re friends, right? So it seems kind of unfair.”


  Ling Qi continued walking, reaching the damp shore of the sea of color. She looked out thoughtfully over the churning waves. “I don’t really mind. I knew I was inviting you into my head.”


  “Maybe so, but…… I want to share anyway. I put a lot of work into making sure you could see and comprehend safely.” For once, the muse’s voice held a note of trepidation. “.…… So, want to take a swim?”


  Ling Qi thought back to the last time she had gone out with a friend on the water and felt Sixiang’s wry shrug of apology at the similarity. Still, Ling Qi rather doubted that this time would end like that had. The circumstances were a bit different. Ling Qi let out a sigh. “Sure thing, Sixiang.”


  Diving into the waters, she dissolved into seafoam.