The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 17

CHAPTER SEVEN

The Burial Mounds

When someone died in a journey through the mountains, it was tradition to protect the body by stacking rocks on it. The higher the stack, the more honored the person. As Bingmei and Quion got closer to the mountains at the end of the valley, she couldn’t help but think they were approaching a series of burial mounds made by giants.

It looked as if an entire range had been shattered into stone pillars, the remains repurposed into a new formation that resembled giant, reaching fingers. A stream ran through the middle of the place and had led them to it.

On one of these pillars, Bingmei knew, lay the phoenix shrine. Each was a nearly vertical climb.

Quion put his hands on his hips. “There are so many. How are we to know which is the right one?”

“I think that’s the point,” Bingmei answered, sighing.

“But you can still sense it?”

She nodded. “It’s inside this maze.”

“Maybe we should camp before going in? The day is waning.”

“Let’s keep going,” she replied. “With all those stones, there will be ample places to hide.”

“True.” He adjusted his pack on his shoulders and gripped the meiwood staff he was carving. The snow leopard peered ahead and followed as they started to advance.

As they approached the intricate maze of natural pillars, Bingmei craned her neck, surprised at how life clawed its way to survive in the harshest environments. She was impressed by the scrub and trees that clung to the cracks and shelves in the colossal rock beams. They followed the stream through the first set of pillars and took a turn, revealing even more of the strange formation. Trailers of evening mist began to form on the ponds and pools dotting the stream’s edges.

She was so distracted by the strange beauty around her it took her a moment to hear the snow leopard’s growl.

“What are those?” Quion asked, grabbing her arm to stop her.

Startled, she halted as the snow leopard began to growl more loudly. A huge black tortoise blocked the way. Its shell was as wide as her outstretched arms, and its black scales looked like armor.

“I’ve never seen one so huge,” Bingmei said. The turtle’s legs marched steadily forward. Then she saw another one. And another.

A hissing sound came from the foremost one.

The leopard’s tail swished menacingly, and it lifted a clawed paw in warning.

The head of the tortoise shot out of its shell, its hooked snout lunging for the cat. The leopard bounded backward, shrieking in surprise.

Bingmei startled as well, drawing back.

“They have necks like snakes,” she said, glancing at the stream as more of the creatures emerged. At a glance, she’d thought them boulders.

More hissing sounded as the turtles began to converge on them.

“Let’s go around them,” Bingmei said.

But the creatures changed their direction, blocking the path forward. One charged toward Quion, and he hit it with the meiwood staff at the last moment, barely avoiding its sharp bite. Another crept up on Bingmei, but she invoked the meiwood cricket, using it to leap over the ranks of the tortoises. As soon as she did, many of them changed directions and started rushing back to catch her.

“I’ll stay ahead of them,” she told Quion. “You keep following.”

They continued that way for a time, but the tortoises were violent beasts, and the group had to stop periodically to deal with an attack—on the leopard, on Quion, or on Bingmei. She had to lop the head off a particularly aggressive tortoise, something that did little to curb the others’ combativeness.

The sun continued to sink, making the shadows grow. If the tortoises continued to pursue them, they’d have to sleep on giant boulders to keep away from their attackers.

Focused on the danger at her feet, Bingmei nearly missed detecting the presence of a concealed dragon.

In the darkening shadows, she saw the green scales, so green that they were nearly black. It had concealed itself amidst the stunted trees and scrub higher up on one of the lower pillars, and there it had waited as they’d approached, the branch-like spurs on its back blending in perfectly with the stunted plant life. Only once it started rushing down toward them, wings tucking as it dropped like a stone, did she sense its malice.

“Quion! Be careful. There’s a—”

It dived straight at her, jaws snapping viciously, and Bingmei had to spring away from its charge before she could finish her warning.

She made it the first time, but on her second leap, the dragon caught her with a gout of amber spray. The hot, sticky liquid covered her like a net, its weight counteracting the magic of the cricket. She tried to jump again but couldn’t rise. The great beast’s claws raked her side, pain blooming violently. She might have died right then if the snow leopard hadn’t leaped on the dragon, hissing and clawing at it in a rage.

Bingmei struggled to free her arms, eager to fight, but they were stuck to her sides. She could only watch as Quion beat the dragon with the meiwood staff. The great beast writhed, trying to get the leopard off its back, and finally hooked it with its claws and threw it as if it were a house cat. It turned on Quion then, opening its maw to spray him with the amber liquid. He dived to the side at the last moment, the attack missing.

Struggling harder, desperate to help, Bingmei stretched against the sap-like net and broke some of the strands, then some more. Grabbing her short sword, she charged at the dragon and tried to stab it in the back, aiming for the wounds left by the leopard’s claws. A wing suddenly buffeted her, knocking her down, making her drop the sword.

She lay on the ground for a moment, panting, certain she was about to die, when she saw it. One of the smaller black tortoises was approaching, mouth open to snap at her. It clamped down on her arm, and she