Chương 13

Yi Dian's chambers were sparsely appointed, but the few objects he kept were of fine quality. He had a desk of dark polished wood, sitting beneath a large scroll of calligraphy mounted on the far wall. A tea set rested on a lacquered tray near the window. Silk cushions in muted greens and grays lay arranged on the floor. A single lantern burned on the desk and cast soft shadows into the corners. Dian stood at the window with his hands clasped behind his back. His posture was rigid, his shoulders squared.

There was a tightness around his eyes that had not been there at dinner. He looked out over the compound, toward the courtyard where Lau had fallen, and his jaw was set. Kang Dae Han sat on a cushion near the door. His kasa rested on the floor beside him, his long two-handed jian propped against the wall within arm's reach. A cup of tea sat untouched before his knees.

His weight was ever so slightly forward, his eyes moved between the two other men in the room, and his posture held the coiled readiness of a man who had mapped the precise distance to the exit and was ready to bolt like a rabbit at the earliest opportunity. Lodin sat across from him. Scorch marks traced dark lines up his forearms. His clothing was blackened at the edges, and the burns on his palms showed raw and red where he gripped the teacup. He took a sip of the tea and smiled.

"Chrysanthemum and osmanthus, for cooling the blood after exertion. Good choice for after a fight, thanks." Dian turned from the window.

"As it turns out, this trespasser and myself are alike in our curiosity." He gestured toward Kang Dae Han.

"Lodin Lundgren, I really must insist that you explain how you were able to defeat Tong Lau." Lodin looked at Dian. He looked at Dae Han. He set the teacup down on the floor before him.

"I'm here to find my brother," he said, slowly and intently.

"My teacher gave me the tools I need to do that. I'm strong enough to beat anyone who might get in the way, using these two hands and nothing else." The words sat in the air between them. Lodin's gaze was steady, his voice had been calm, and there was no bluster in his posture. He had not puffed up or leaned forward or made any gesture meant to intimidate. He had simply said it, the way a man might observe that water runs downhill.

Dian's hands stayed clasped behind his back, but his fingers had gone white where they pressed against each other. His eyes stayed on Lodin. He glanced at Dae Han. Dae Han's expression did not change, but something in his eyes said: your house, your call. Dian looked back at Lodin, noticed the easy way he sat on the cushion as if this were his own home. He looked at the smile that had not left his lips since he raised the teacup. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Lodin noticed that something had captured Dae Han's attention; The roguish cultivator's gaze was fixed upon a case of glass vials on Dian's desk, each one full to the stopper with an opaque black liquid.

"Do you normally keep demonic alchemics out on your desk?" Dian raised an eyebrow.

"So you know what this is." Dae Han nodded.

"This black opium was found in the quarters of a man who recently fled the sect." Dian gestured toward the case, and then nodded at Lodin.

"The man this one was looking for. Would you happen to know where such a thing comes from?" Dae Han rose from his cushion and crossed to the desk. He picked up one of the vials and turned it over in his fingers. The black liquid shifted inside, thick and sluggish like crude oil. On the bottom of the glass, a mark had been pressed into the surface. A lotus flower, its petals unfurled.

"One could track this down," he said.

"Find out who the maker is." Dian studied him for a moment.

"You seem like the sort who would not look out of place in such environments." Dae Han shrugged.

"Could you find out who made this?" Dae Han's expression turned cagey.

"Sure. For a fee."

"How does fifty gold taels sound?" Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

"Just because I look like I belong in dangerous places doesn't mean I wouldn't be in danger. Demonic cultivators make this stuff. As hazards go, that's as bad as it gets."

"Very well. One hundred gold taels."

"Two hundred."

"One hundred fifty."

"A hundred seventy-five." Dian sighed again.

"Fine. One hundred seventy-five."

"I'm coming too," Lodin said. Dae Han looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Lodin gestured at the vials.

"The man who left those behind might know where my brother is, if he's still alive. Even if he isn't, the people who make that stuff might know more. If you find them, I can question them."

"Don't take this the wrong way," Dae Han said, "But I blend in where I'm going. You'll stick out like a sore thumb." Lodin shrugged.

"If there's any trouble, I'll handle it."

"That I believe," said Dae Han. - - - - The place had no sign that Lodin could see, just a red lantern above a door in a dark alleyway. Inside the air was thick with the smells of pipe smoke, liquor, and too many bodies packed too close together. Lanterns in shades of red and orange turned every face a heavily shadowed shade of crimson. The ground floor opened around a dirt pit where a low grade demon and spirit beast circled each other, the crowd three rows deep and shouting for blood.

Stairs climbed to a second level where dice clattered and cards slapped on wood, to the tune of victorious howls and anguished cries. Lodin followed Dae Han through the press of bodies. Heads turned as he passed. Conversations faltered. Evidently a seven-foot Jotunar with long blond hair and blue eyes was not a common sight in a place like this.

"So," he said, close to Dae Han's ear to be heard over the noise.

"You were watching me. What for?" Dae Han glanced back at him.

"Is that a serious question? If you saw someone do the things you do, would you not be curious?" Lodin chuckled.

"So you're the sort who's more curious than cautious."

"Sometimes, if it's worth it."

"You want to know what my build is. So you can copy it, is that right?"

"Or sell it."

"That might be hard." Lodin's grin widened.

"It has an unusual foundation. You could call it an accident of birth."

"Your Gates and Seals," Dae Han said. Lodin raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. How did you know that?" Dae Han smirked back at him.

"If you can be cagey, so can I." They reached a doorway at the back of the main floor. A guard stood beside it, thick-armed and dead-eyed. Dae Han exchanged a few words and a few coins and the guard stepped aside. The back rooms were quieter, darker. Silk hangings separated the central area from smaller, more intimate conversation pits. Incense burned in brass dishes, to add a layer of sweetness over the stink of the main hall, and somewhere in the dark a band of musicians played a subdued but hypnotic tune.

"Who are we looking for?" Lodin asked.

"Hong Nguyen. He owes me a favor." Lodin followed behind Dae Han as he made his way deeper into the backrooms. When he spotted his contact, he tapped Lodin on the shoulder and pointed, and the two of them headed in his direction. The man was tall and pale, fine-featured and dressed in expensive silks. He reclined on a pile of cushions with girls in various states of undress draped across his lap and against his sides, and held a long slender pipe in his hand.

He had his head tipped backward, toward the ceiling, watching tendrils of smoke curl and drift around him like a red halo. He saw Dae Han and a broad smile spread across his face. He gestured for him to come over, dismissed the girls with a snap of his fingers and they rose and drifted toward the door.

One of them passed close to Lodin on her way out, and only up close did he notice that she looked as out of place here as he did; Her face was a work of fine art, the bow of her lips, the slope of her cheekbones, the way her nose turned up gently at the tip. Her skin was the color of warm sand at dusk, her hair jet black, and cut in a soft, tousled bob that brushed just below her jawline. But it was her eyes that held him.

They were free of the narcotic haze that clouded the other girls, and a shade of green so bright and deep and clear it was unnerving in the murky darkness of the room. She met his gaze, held it, and the corner of her mouth turned up in a smile. Lodin found himself smiling back. Then she was through the door and gone. As Dae Han and Lodin took seats by Hong Nguyen, the man sat upright and set down his pipe, amused.

"Didn't you tell me you couldn't afford another night in this city?" he asked.

"I found some work," Dae Han said. He produced the vial from his sleeve and held it up to the light. The black liquid shifted inside, thick and sluggish. Hong Nguyen's smile faded. He looked at the vial, then at Dae Han, then at Lodin.

"Whatever errand you're on," he said, "You should forget about it now."

"All I need is a name. I take the name back to the one who hired me, and my part is done."

"Until they find out who gave them the name. You." Hong's eyes were flat now, all the warmth gone.

"And then they find out who gave you the name. Me." Lodin spoke up.

"They won't be in any condition to search for you." Hong raised an eyebrow, looked Lodin up and down.

"You're the one who raised a ruckus in Saltside today."

"That's me. And I'm about to go raise a ruckus wherever that vial came from. All you have to do is point me in the right direction." Dae Han added, "He did more than that. Tonight he beat Tong Lau of the Divine Gale Sect. One on one." Both of Hong's eyebrows rose. He looked between the two of them, thinking. Then he leaned in close.

"I have your word I won't feel any blowback from whatever it is you're going to do." Lodin gave him a slow nod. Hong Nguyen chewed on his lip, and his eyes shifted between Dae Han and Lodin. Lodin had the impression the man was calculating the odds that he'd find himself in trouble with a sect of demonic cultivators if he said anything. Lodin leaned forward and met Hong's eyes.

"I don't leave loose ends." Hong held his gaze for a moment. Then he let out a breath, gave him a small nod.

"Find this symbol at Tianmu Cemetary." He tapped the lotus mark on the bottom of the vial.

"It's in the Terraces. Old place, well maintained, lots of rich merchants and officials moldering in the ground. At the back there's a columbarium built into the hillside. Walk to the far end, past the shrine. The last column of markers is in shadow even at midday. Third row up, there's one with no name. Just this. Touch it for a count of three breaths, and step back." Lodin nodded.

"Many thanks." Hong frowned and shook his head.

"You seem confident, but I still wouldn't go there, if I were you. It doesn't matter how strong you think you are, they're stronger." A grin split Lodin's face.

"That's what they all think, until they meet me."