Chương 14: "If anything happens to him, there's no hole deep enough that I won't find you in it"

Ch 14: "If anything happens to him, there's no hole deep enough that I won't find you in it" Gang sorted the last bundles into the three packs and handed two of the packs to Zhen.

"Take these up to the house. I'll bring the rest." He nodded toward the garments hanging either side of the doors. Together they shifted the anvil back into place, sealing the hidden room once more. The massive block of metal slid back with ease. Gang reached up to a shelf and pulled down a wooden crate that had been gathering dust for as long as Zhen could remember.

"What's in there?" Gang gave him a mischievous smile.

"Just some old friends." In the kitchen Shuo and his mother were packaging parcels of dried meat, fruit, and hard biscuits into waxed paper. Their quiet conversation halted abruptly when Zhen and Gang entered. Mei-Bao's eyes lit up when she spotted the clothes in Gang's arms.

"Finally," she breathed, reaching out to touch a length of grey fabric.

"It's been a long time since I was properly dressed." Gang handed the clothes to Mei-Bao, and they disappeared into their bedroom. Zhen took the opportunity to head to his own room and peel off his torn, filthy clothes. As he changed, he looked around the small space that had been his sanctuary for as long as he could remember. It felt strange to think he might never see it again. When Zhen emerged back into the main room, he stopped short. His parents stood side by side, transformed.

Gone were the simple blacksmiths who had raised him. In their place stood two cultivators whose presence filled the room. Their grey robes caught the lamplight and reflected it back. Even their hair was different, tied up in warriors' buns, held in place by bone hairpins Zhen recognized from the wall of weapons under the forge. The other weapons they had strapped about them sat as naturally. Gang's long two-handed sword was strapped across his back, and he had a pair of daggers in a double sheath at his waist.

His mother held a long spear, and carried a bow with a quiver of arrows slung across her back, the fans no doubt concealed in the pendant under her robes. But it wasn't just the clothing and the weapons, startling though they were. Their postures had changed with their chins lifted in a look that might have been arrogance. All hints of softness had gone, and they looked younger and more dangerous. And more complete. This was who they had always been, beneath the disguise of a simple village life.

Gang handed Zhen one of the packs.

"This is yours." Zhen peered inside, finding high-quality items meticulously arranged: a weatherproof bedroll, flint and steel, water skin, a practical camp knife with a bone handle, a small hand axe for branches, and a dozen more useful items. Everything a traveler would need, but none of the weapons he had glimpsed in the hidden room.

"There aren't any weapons in here," Zhen said, looking up at his father.

"How am I supposed to defend myself?" Shuo snorted from across the room.

"Without training, you're mostly a danger to yourself if you use unfamiliar weapons." The old cultivator nodded toward Zhen's belt, where his hammers hung.

"You've been using those all your life. Those are all the weapons you need to train with. You need to turn your craft into a combat art." Zhen touched the hammers at his side. They had always been the tools of his trade, not weapons.

"But…"

"Listen to Shuo," Mei-Bao said, her voice carried an authority that brooked no argument.

"He's irritating and smug, but he knows his business. Your hammers are perfectly balanced for your hands because you made them that way. No strange sword would serve you better right now." Gang nodded in agreement.

"Cloudstone Peak will teach you proper weapon arts when you're ready. Until then, stick with what you know."

"Are we ready to leave, then?" Shuo glanced around the room with an impatient look on his face.

"I want to be well away before dawn." Gang exchanged a look with Mei-Bao.

"There's one more thing we need to do." He turned to Shuo.

"Have you thought about how you and Zhen are going to travel to The Cloudstone Peak Sect?" Shuo frowned, the lines deepening on his leathery face.

"Not really. I'd have liked to fly. Would have gotten us there in a month, maybe." He scratched his chin.

"But now the Patriarch knows I'm still alive, I won't be able to move around as easily as I have been. Walking'll take far too long." He shrugged.

"Seemed to work well enough when I ran with Zhen under my arm. Guess we'll do that." Zhen's stomach dropped. The memory of being carried under Shuo's arm while they raced above the forest twisted his stomach. His face must have shown his dismay, because Gang burst into laughter.

"That look!" Gang's shoulders shook.

"Maybe we can solve two problems at once." He picked up the wooden crate he had brought in from the forge and pried off the lid. Inside lay four horseshoes. Unlike the usual iron ones, these gleamed with a silvery luster as if the metal had captured tiny stars. Zhen reached in and lifted one out, surprised by its lightness. The surface was dense with intricate runes so small he had to squint to make them out.

Each one was perfectly etched, aligned with the grain of the metal and flowing into the next in an unbroken chain. He activated the Eye. No flaws. Shuo raised a single eyebrow, interest crossing his face.

"Is that Moonlight Steel?" If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Gang smiled, a flash of craftsman pride breaking through his warrior's demeanor.

"The highest quality."

"They were one of the first things we had made when we fled," Mei-Bao picked up the story, reaching to trace a finger over one of the runes.

"We went to the Thirsting Veins and negotiated with Mistress Zie to get the Moonlight Steel, then headed to the Confluence to call in a favor from Shiyong to forge them." Shuo let out a low whistle.

"You went with the best then?"

"It was worth it. These'll let any horse run far faster than any mortal creature," Gang said, "and keep up that pace for hours at a time."

"They also have minor runes for self-repair and to help heal the horse," Mei-Bao said.

"We always knew we might have to flee, and we needed a way to make sure Zhen would be able to keep up."

"There's a reason we've always had a horse, when most other people would make do with a donkey or a mule. If we put these on Chul," Gang said, "while it won't be as fast as your flying sword, at a full run, she'll be able to keep pace with Shuo. It will speed your travels."

"Does that mean Chul can come with me?" The question burst from Zhen before he could think. Now that the option was available, he was surprised by how much he wanted it. If he had to leave behind everything he knew, the thought of having Chul with him was comforting. Mei-Bao's eyes softened.

"That's up to Master Shuo." Shuo shrugged, inspecting the horseshoes.

"Fine with me. Anything that speeds the journey is good." He held up one finger without looking at Zhen.

"But I refuse to look after her. That's all down to you."

"I'll do it," Zhen said quickly.

"I'll take care of everything." Gang's broad face split into a smile.

"Ready to do one last project with your old father?" Zhen nodded, a sense of purpose pushing aside his uncertainty. Working metal with his father was something he understood. It would be a suitable goodbye to their life here. The thought of Chul racing across the landscape, her hooves sparking with moonlight steel, filled him with a strange, fierce joy. He wouldn't be facing this new life entirely alone. A piece of home would run alongside him.

"Let's do it," Zhen said, carefully replacing the horseshoe in the crate. Gang led the way to the forge, with Mei-Bao and Zhen following in silence. Shuo made to follow them, then held back, giving them a knowing look.

"You do that while I repack Zhen's gear into saddlebags and add some things for the horse as well." Chul stood patiently in the small paddock beside the forge, her ears flicking forward at their approach. She nickered softly when Zhen opened the gate and, came up to her, pushing her nose against his chest.

"She knows something's happening," Zhen said as he led her into the forge. Gang looked up from where he was gathering the tools they would need.

"Animals always know." The three of them fell into a familiar rhythm without discussion. Mei-Bao had always been an equal partner around the forge, her deft hands skilled at the finer details Gang's larger fingers struggled with. Now, as she held Chul's lead and spoke soothingly to the mare, Zhen saw how her cultivator's bearing made even this simple task seem elegant. Gang lifted Chul's front hoof, checking it carefully before nodding to Zhen.

"The old shoes need to come off first. Do you want to do it?" Zhen worked efficiently, removing the ordinary iron horseshoes they had crafted for her just weeks ago. As he worked, he committed every detail to memory: the heat-darkened walls of the forge, the scent of coal dust and iron that permeated everything, the particular way the moonlight filtered through the slatted windows in thin, dusty beams. This place had been the center of his universe for seventeen years. Soon it would be a memory.

Gang handed Zhen the first Moonlight Steel horseshoe. It felt unnaturally light in his hands, the tiny runes shifting with subtle iridescence in the lantern light.

"Just attach it like a regular shoe," Gang instructed, but his voice was gentler than usual.

"The metal responds to your touch. It wants to be placed." Sure enough, as Zhen positioned the horseshoe against Chul's hoof, the metal warmed and flexed, settling into a perfect alignment. When he drove in the nails, Gang produced from a pouch at his belt, they slid in with minimal resistance. Zhen tapped in the last nail, then stared at the horseshoe. The silvery starlike luster of the Moonlight Steel had faded and it just looked like a competently made, but otherwise unexceptional, iron horseshoe.

Zhen looked over at his father.

"What happened? Did I break it?" His mother smiled and put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's fine. We should have warned you. There are runes on it to disguise what the horseshoes are from curious eyes. Unless someone is very powerful or knows what they are looking for, now they're on Chul they'll look normal." As they worked through all four hooves, Zhen noticed a subtle change in Chul. With each new shoe, she seemed to stand a little taller, her eyes brightening.

"She feels it," Mei-Bao said.

"The metal's bonding with her." When they finished the final shoe, Chul stamped lightly, testing her new footwear and gave a small neigh of pleasure. They put a bridle and saddle on Chul and led her to where Shuo waited in front of the house with their packs and the saddlebags neatly arranged. The old cultivator had closed up the house, the door latched for what might be the final time. In the yard, under a sky just beginning to lighten, they paused.

"When it's safe, we'll come find you at Cloudstone Peak," Gang said, his voice gruff with emotion.

"Work hard. Make us proud." Mei-Bao nodded.

"We just need to lead the Folded Shadows away, make them think we're all together. Once we've lost them, we'll circle back to the sect. But they're persistent and cunning. It'll likely be years before we see you again." Before Zhen could respond, both his parents stepped forward, wrapping him in a tight embrace. The three of them stood locked together. Zhen shut his eyes and breathed in the familiar scents of his father's forge-smoke and oil, and his mother's herbs and tea.

Scents he had known his entire life without ever thinking he might never smell them again. Then, with visible effort, they all stepped back, none of them quite able to speak. Mei-Bao approached Shuo, fixing him with a fierce stare. She raised one finger, pointing it directly in the cultivator's face.

"I am trusting you with my boy, old man. If anything happens to him, there's no hole deep enough that I won't find you in it." For once, Shuo didn't respond with sarcasm. He met her gaze directly and gave a single, grave nod.

"I'll get him safely there and teach him what he needs to get into the sect. How he does in the tests and beyond is down to him." Gang and Mei-Bao smiled at Zhen, then they exchanged a look as they pulled on their packs. With startling suddenness, their smiles broke into huge grins. Gang let out a wild whoop that shattered the pre-dawn quiet, and both of them leaped upward. Their bodies sailed through the air, landing lightly on a branch thirty feet up.

Then they bounded away through the treetops, moving with inhuman speed. Within seconds, they had vanished completely, not even the rustling of leaves marking their passage. Zhen stared at the empty treeline, his throat tight. He turned and looked down at the sleeping village he had grown up in. The village, and the people in it, had been everything that he had known. Now he may never see it again. Even though he hadn't even left yet, a swell of homesickness welled up inside him.

Then he squared his shoulders and straightened up. If he was going to allow the village to live their quiet lives, then he had to leave. This was for their safety as much as it was for him. To protect the weak, he would need to be strong, and he couldn't gain that strength here. When he turned back, he caught Shuo watching him with an expression of unexpected compassion. The old cultivator quickly masked it, straightening his shoulders.

"Right," Shuo said, his voice returning to its usual gruff tone.

"Let's go join a sect."