Pathway - Chapter 207

“To put the matter bluntly, that girl is rotting with bloodscars. While you can live with the knowledge that you’ll die one day, Chang Chang is dying.”

“What?”

“About you or her?”

“Well, her.”

“Heavens tears, haven’t you touched her yourself?” Saragui took in his expression. “If you did, you’d doubtless find her frigid.”

Ju Feng lowered himself into a chair, in the way a cat sinks into a wary crouch. “Why is she dying? Explain.”

“I am only speculating, of course, but I believe that whatever ability Chang Chang gained as a result of her brush with the bloodplague is interfering with her essence. Her arts go wild more often than they succeed. Am I correct?”

“You are,” Ju Feng said.

“Then, in effect, every time she casts a mystical spell, her body wages war on itself—the bloodscar fighting the ordered forces of magic. Her scar must be a powerful talent, to cause such a chaotic reaction. What is it, exactly, that Chang Chang can do?”

“That’s for her to say.” Ju Feng stood. Tension hummed in his blood. His body must be readjusting to the ring, he thought. He held up his hand. “Is there any magic like this ring that can calm the forces in her, make the bloodscar sleep?”

Saragui smiled. “That’s why I like you You think of it as a living thing, just as I do. It surrounds the city, weaving into the wood and stone. Folk think they’re safe here, but they breathe the plague every day. They just don’t realize it. You and I are the only ones who know how doomed the world is.”

“You’ve spent too long in the harbor rot,” Ju Feng said, “and you’re wasting my time. If you can’t help me—”

“There is no magic that can stave off the bloodplague forever,” Saragui snapped. “You know that as well as anyone.”

“She’s stronger than she looks,” Ju Feng said. He turned away from Saragui. “Stronger than you.”

Saragui laughed. “Yet I would not trade places with her for the world. My men will bring your disguises. Bring them and Zu Ruo with you when you return to the Haven to fight for me. I’ll give you a tenday before I hold another tournament. A tenday, Ju Feng. You’ve tried my patience more than any other man and lived. Don’t displease me again.”

Ju Feng nodded. A question burned on his tongue, but he did not ask it. He climbed the ladder and left the ship, but the thought haunted him.

How long does she have? He’d have to touch her—the bare skin of her hands—to know for sure. He could touch other parts of her and get impressions, but they wouldn’t be as strong.

He’d never known why it had to be so specific a touch. The buddhist monks and cultivators of his world believed the hands were the links that most strongly connected mortals to the world. A warrior’s hands could take a life; a midwife’s could bring a babe into the world. Chi manifested through the hands. He would see about that later.

“Everywhere we go has a name,” Chang Chang said. “WaterWay , the Hearth, Whale Cavern now it’s the Sinking Isle.” She gazed at the latest jumbled wreck of a ship. This one, a cog, had been hollowed out, the decking torn up to form one high-walled chamber at the bottom of the ship.

“There’s a ladder here,” Zu Ruo said, stepping onto a short gangplank off the raised dock. She pointed to a rickety ladder laid against the inside of the ship. It descended into the cog’s belly, disappearing from sight. “That’s our way down.”

“We’re at the nether end of WaterWay, yet they still get around to namin’ everythin’ here,” Chang Chang babbled on. “Unsettlin’, that’s what it is.” He shot a quick glance at the ladder. “Unnatural.”

Ju Feng handed Chang Chang a rolled bundle of cloth. “Put it on,” he said. “You’ll feel better once you’re protected. Saragui said even the stench is blunted by the magic.”

“Why does he have these?” Chang Chang said, taking her own bundle and unrolling it. A simple cloak of layered rags, it hardly looked like it could stop a swift breeze, let alone be magical.

“He’s never told me, but I suspect he uses them for spying,” Zu Ruo said. “His own man poses as a beggar, then the master sends him wandering around the Haven. Folk try to ignore him. They don’t see him as a real person, with ears and a tongue that can tell what he’s seen.”

“So after he’s done spyin’, the guards grab him and throw him on the Isle, just like a staged play,” Chang Chang said, shaking his head. “Everyone serves a purpose. Tidy little business he keeps. Too bad someone hasn’t killed him.” She ignored Zu Ruo’s narrowed eyes.

“He’s offered us shelter,” Ju Feng said, trying to head off the confrontation, “such as it is.” She donned her cloak and felt a warm wave as the magic flowed over her. “How do we look—any worse than before?”

Chang Chang turned green in the face. She looked like she might gag. “You could say that, Feng. I wouldn’t go searchin’ for any mirrors if I were you.”

“Some gallant comforter you are,” Ju Feng said. “Let’s see ourselves, then.”

Ju Feng and Zu Ruo donned their cloaks together. Chang Chang knew instantly when the magic had taken hold.

“That’s… effective,” was all she could think to say.

Open sores blossomed from Zu Ruo’s and Sull’s faces. Yellowish fluid seeped from the bulging skin. Sull’s red hair turned gray and lifeless, and his skin had a distinctly wasted tinge. Ju Feng looked no better. His red eyes sank into his skull, and his already gaunt face looked skeletal. Chang Chang could see the crooked blue veins just below the surface of his skin.

“No one will recognize us,” Chang Chang said. And indeed, she did feel better. Cerest’s gaze would never linger on creatures like this. “We’ll be safe, even in broad daylight.”

“I think we’re all good now.”

“If we’re so well disguised, why do we need to stay here at all?” Chang Chang said. “We can walk about Waterway as we wish.”

“No,” Ju Feng said. “They’ll start searching magically for such disguises, if they haven’t already. I don’t want to test the limits of the cloaks in daylight. At night, perhaps. Besides, we need to sleep sometime, and I’d like to be as protected as possible.”

And I’ll be able to read grandfather’s letters, Chang Chang thought. It was fast approaching dawn. She had until nightfall to find some clue as to the nature of Chang Wei’s relationship with Cerest. She had no idea if such knowledge would aid her in defeating the elf, but she had to know the truth. She had to know if Chang Wei had been Cerest’s friend. “Dawn is coming,” she said, putting her hands on the ladder rungs. “Let’s get this over with.”

She descended the ladder. Shapes moved below her—brown humps that stumbled and pushed each other out of the way in the small space. The farther down they went, the more she could distinguish the babble of voices.

“All at one end, you know better than to crowd the stage, Bao, you old fool.”

“I want to be able to hear the music this time. I’m a full ten feet back. You mind your own seat; it’s wide enough to demand your full attention.”

“I’m not fat, you bastard!”

The voices died when they reached the bottom of the ladder. Chang Chang could see dozens of rag-cloaked figures angling for a space at the far end of the ship’s belly. They all stopped what they were doing when Chang Chang’s foot touched the ground.

A tense silence followed. Chang Chang stepped forward, raising a scarred hand in greeting. “W-well met,” she said.

“Well met.” A man with a crooked back ambled over to take her hand.

It was like greeting a skeleton. His fingers had no meat. Real sores peppered his arms and bare legs. Chang Chang swallowed hard and tried not to pull her hand away.

“You look like you could use a rest, friend,” the man said eagerly. “I’m Bao, and I won’t bother you with the rest of the names for now, just you remember mine. Taken together, we’re the Drawn Cloaks. Lovely and mysterious-sounding, isn’t it? I came up with the name myself. Come and sit over here. We’ve some food and drink to spare.”

Chang Chang let herself be led over to the others. Hands patted her on the back and guided her to a seat on the ground. Immediately, a cup of water was pressed into her hand, and a bowl of some unidentifiable substance appeared in front of her. Similar treatment greeted Ju Feng and Zu Ruo.

Chang Chang sniffed the food and looked at Zu Ruo. Her mouth was already watering, but she wanted to be sure the meat wouldn’t kill her. Zu Ruo nodded slightly. Chang Chang scooped up a handful of the stewlike substance and ate.

She tasted stringy meat and hard potatoes, liberally seasoned with grease that pooled at the bottom of her bowl. Not a king’s feast, by any standard, but it was more substantial fare than her body had taken in days, and did much to clear her head and soothe the raw churning in her belly. She’d been so hungry, her hands shook when she brought the food to her mouth. She looked at Bao, unable to speak, grateful tears standing in her eyes.