“The outer sentry formations have detected an assembling demon horde at least five hundred thousand strong, perhaps with as much as fifty thousand more to complement that.” Eculay sat on her cushion in the council chamber with a glowing sphere crouched in her grasp. Eerie chromatic pulses passed through the strange creation of metallic glass, each touching the surface at different points and triggering secondary bursts of color. This visualization represented an aesthetic compliment to the bursts of qi transmitted from countless formations scattered beyond the exterior of Mother's Gift. With many-colored, translucent skin, she possessed hair that extended in a vast wave below her ankles and cloaked her entire petite form. With Aekay in closed door cultivation, she stood as interim head of the formations pavilion, and master of the fixed defenses.

  Itinay, looking upon the shifting rainbow countenance, wished her sister was present to handle the briefing. It was not a matter of competence. Her fellow grand elder was extremely accomplished in her chosen sphere. Instead, preference and personal trust carried the emotional response.

  “At least one demonic cultivator in the celestial ascendancy realm is present,” the slow, steady words delivered in a perpetually quiet and preternaturally calm tone continued. “As many as four are possible.”

  “The array can't do better?” Red-haired Akiray had brought her mighty spear to the council meeting, a sign of battles to come. She positively radiated eagerness to join in combat. The anticipation, tied to her dao deep down, shown through her qi. The Nine Spheres Arsenal revealed through its greatest living expression.

  “I can identify only the one nearest to the front, herding the demons, with certainty.” Eculay shook her head, sending waves through her lengthy tresses, slowly. The rest of her body did not move one iota. Though she outwardly appeared to be made of stained glass, she was as indomitable as the hardest diamond. “However, given the steady watch kept over this horde throughout its assembly, and the corresponding large size, a second presence is a near certainty. A third is probable, though their cultivation cannot be discerned.” She delivered this amendment without pause. “It is possible that they are not in the celestial ascendancy realm, but merely the seventh layer of the soul forging realm.”

  Itinay doubted matters were so generous. She did not think any demonic cultivators survived who had failed to obtain immortality by now. Such a person would have needed to be converted within the most recent millennium, many centuries after the remaining demonic immortals gave up bothering with such efforts. This unidentified presence was either unusually weak for their realm or, far more likely, very cagey in terms of qi management.

  “Three,” green-faced Neay's lips squeezed into a hard line, and her normally gentle face stiffened to teak. “Three is very dangerous.” Her eyes moved around the room. “There will be many sacrifices in the days to come.”

  Silently, Itinay rejected the regret infused into those words, despite the complete sincerity that summoned them. Such fatalism, she found herself despising it. Eight against three; even if the layers of the foe remained unknown. Most likely they held among their own a match for each, or, equally probable, exceeded them. Half a million demons, though numerous, was a pittance compared to the power that could be focused upon the Killing Fields. Once the demonic cultivators perished, the horde could be annihilated using little more than defensive formations.

  They ought to laugh at this attack, and crush it like the paltry effort it was. She would enjoy nothing more than to watch such a swift and final victory unfold. Overconfident enemies laid waste as their assault was swept aside and the strength of the plague permanently diminished.

  She knew it was not possible. Survival demanded secrecy, and secrecy demanded sacrifices.

  The calculus was simple enough. If the location of Mother's Gift, and its true strength, were revealed, then the enemy would rally a vast coalition to destroy it, an aggregated force far beyond their power to resist. Dozens of demonic cultivators, tens of millions of demons; nothing any strategy or valor could overcome.

  Anyone who breached the boundary must be annihilated. Escape could not be permitted. Anything less was not a victory. It was simple, the reasoning irrefutable. Their enemies, seeking to protect themselves and their immortality, worked similarly, letting the horde charge forth and die in droves before committing.

  But the plague's servitors sacrificed mindless demons, not precious sect members. She refused to consider that an acceptable trade.

  “The plans for a fighting withdrawal through the Killing Fields remain sound,” Ohlay sounded outwardly calm, but they all knew she felt the losses keener than any of them. Inside her sunlit skin, her qi seethed. “Whether it is two or three, Akiray can serve as the lure regardless. Her skill will serve to mitigate much damage.”

  “Sounds good,” Akiray agreed to the scheme at once, never hesitating as a smile burst across red-tinged lips. No one else even bothered to blink in response to this. It was preordained.

  Standing in the fifth layer and recognized as a genius battlemaster, Akiray could annihilate any opponent at the same or lesser cultivation as her own, and even a sixth layer foe would require many passes to overcome her. To put her forth as a target was among the best cards the sisters possessed. They had done so many times, she was ill-suited to act as a reserve.

  Itinay supported this move, but so did all the others. No debate was raised on the point.

  Despite such a solid beginning to their plans, she felt tight, held down. Any other options, proposed deployments and maneuvers, she tallied them up and considered everything marginal. The right choice might save a handful of disciples, the wrong one doom a dozen, but none could possibly deliver the crushing victory she desired. It shackled her, stilled her connection to the dao.

  They were strong, the heirs of the Fifth Sage. That they should argue such meager, limited, choices felt, no, was, inadequate. She wanted, needed, a solution that produced more than another episode of grinding survival setting the sect back decades or more.

  She needed a real victory.

  It was an old ache, one she'd forced down again and again as the centuries rolled past. This time, however, was not the same. Circumstances had delivered into her hands the possibility she'd desired for so very long. Even as the others moved to offer marginal adjustments, she contemplated the moment and method to present a case that would upend it all.

  Even such a simple scheme as this, hesitation rather than true deception, crumpled before immortal relationships measured in millennia. “Itinay, youngest sister, you're plotting something,” Uzay spoke up suddenly, cutting through the simmering cauldron of immortal contemplation. “Won't you hurry up and tell us what it is?”

  The blue-faced cultivator bit back a hiss, discovered and suddenly facing seven sets of eyes of many more than seven colors. It had been folly to think she could choose her moment among this company. Cycling qi through her immortal body to purchase a moment of chilling and uncompromising insight borrowed from the power of the vast embers far above, she offered up her proposed deviation.

  “What would you all do if we could monitor the lure perfectly, know the exact moment the enemy passed beyond the reach of escape?”

  There was a prolonged silence. The words hung in the air as if frozen. No one made a move to speak first. Immortal minds calculated instead, thousands of possibilities considered and discarded in the space of seconds.

  Only at length did Eculay, wrapped around her skittering orb, break the icy tableau. “You intend to utilize the member of your pavilion, Qing Liao?”

  No one answered. They all knew that was what she meant. Itinay was equally aware of how her sisters, with their minds open to the possibility, recognized the way scheme would work; alarm and signal. Each would conceive of specifics according to their personal viewpoints, but all would find the core possibility viable.

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  “He is too young,” Eculay, realizing that by speaking first she had taken up the obligatory role of opposition, spoke the first obvious objection. The second followed on its heels. “He is only fifteen. He reached the second layer of the body refining realm only a week previous.”

  Itinay held back a smile. The others proclaimed disinterest in her project, but they monitored it carefully all the same. The boy advanced rapidly. The second layer in just over a year was excellent, and Sayaana's instruction had advanced his movement technique capacity well above standard.

  “He is not ready. You wish to place him in the middle of the Killing Fields, surrounded by a demon horde? Though they will not be able to sense his qi, that is still a million eyes.” This objection, though unchanging in tone or meter, carried considerably greater force. “Even a master of stealth, if such a thing exists, could not move through a horde unseen. He will simply be spotted and torn apart.”

  This time Itinay smiled openly. It was perfectly framed. She wanted to thank Eculay for being so reasonable. “I do not propose to sneak him through the horde,” she counted. “Not at all. The horde is irrelevant. Once the cultivators are slain, we will obliterate it. Qing Liao's purpose is simple. All he needs to do is inform us when the enemy cultivators have passed the point of no return. It is as simple as pulling a string when they pass overhead.”

  “Bury him underground?” Uzay laughed, a sound of birds flapping upon the summer wind. “That's so like you sister, but,” she laughed a second time, much lower, an eagle's flight. “It could work.”

  “It could, but it could also destroy him,” Ohlay's assessment was considerably more restrained. “When faced with the overwhelming mass of qi produced by a demon horde, those in the body refining realm struggle to even hold their positions on the wall. Your scheme not only requires immersing this boy within the tide, but exposes him directly to the qi of demonic cultivators in the celestial ascendancy realm. He could very easily perish. Worse, with the remnant soul attached to him, merely wavering might cause her to attack his spirit out of instinct.”

  These were, Itinay regretfully accepted, strong points. Qing Liao was possessed of all the unfortunate limitations tied to flesh, and his weakness imposed serious restrictions on his utility. If pushed too hard, he would break. That much she was willing to concede, though not out loud.

  “If that's the only question left,” as the youngest of the sisters had hoped, Uzay picked up the weave from there. “Then let us test him and see. I'll do it myself.” She offered readily, another piece falling into place as expected.

  “Is that wise?” Eculay presented one final doubt. “There are good reasons supporting our tendency to avoid meddling with cultivators in initiate status. If this youth is constantly pulled back and forth by furious winds he will never find his dao.”

  “Sister, we put a remnant soul inside his head,” Itinay took this moment to cut for herself, sharp as possible. She reveled in it, just a little. “That light has been launched.”

  “Granted,” the serene, many-colored face never changed, but qi emanations revealed this remark had struck hard. “But we must minimize the contamination of this maneuver. This young man, he has been separated from the ordinary paths laid down by the sect, paths long refined and charted to key lines. I believe it is essential that this circle of deviation not expand further. No matter how useful the abilities of a single individual, the sect must not warp itself to support them alone.”

  “Agreed.” This was true, a danger both long acknowledged and planned for from the very beginning. “He has already been split apart from the operations of the archery hall,” Sayaana had handled that most capably. “And his personal artistic path has served to self-isolate him within the Textiles Pavilion, something I have subtly reinforced through my subordinates.” Fu Jin was already part of this, and therefore an ideal agent to carry out such commands. Liao's own choice to specialize in leatherwork had greatly facilitated this course. A fortuitous occurrence that; it seemed the dao favored this course. Perhaps, Itinay mused, it had finally had enough of demonic interference. Doubtful, more likely the time had simply come for things to change, as they always did.

  “Are any of those in his artistic circle suited to guide him through the Killing Fields?” Eculay questioned, pursuing the heart of the matter diligently.

  Blue-white eyes narrow involuntarily. There was a scheme here, one Itinay had not anticipated. That was unusual. At the same time, it meant that the chance to forestall it had come and gone. She felt a slice against her dao, being anticipated in this way. Nothing remained but to push ahead. “No,” she admitted defeat with this single simple word. Rather than attempt to fight blind, she would acquire what information she might prior to planning out a counterattack. Pity that the little group of outcasts operating at the edge of her pavilion that worked with various odds and ends on the margins of the textile arts lacked cultivation capacity and martial focus. “But this is not a matter of wilderness. I believe Qing Liao can find his way.”

  “The horde is coming,” Eculay countered. “And it is sizable. Lead elements are already beginning to slide across the gateway.” All knew this statement to be true. Assembled by organic processes, the horde moved in swarm fashion rather than imperial march. A scattered vanguard would always lead well ahead of the balance of forces. “If we are to take a great risk betting on the capabilities of a single initiate, then there must be no mistakes while putting that asset in place.”

  The shape of the ploy revealed itself. Her multi-colored sister was making a move to gain influence over the sect's new weapon, to lay her authority against Itinay's own. Silently, she assessed that serene face with care. What was the ultimate intent? Did they intend to torpedo her plans obliquely, or to simply co-opt her success? She could easily imagine a plethora of reasons to take both paths.

  Rather than pursue countless mental possibilities, she chose to cut through the veil and simply ask in the open. “Did you have someone in mind?”

  “Qing Liao's initial testing was conducted by Disciple Su Yi. She is a most promising disciple, a formidable fighter and an expert in the defenses of the Killing Fields. She seems to be the ideal candidate for this task.” Eculay's face never moved, but her qi warmed with sweet satisfaction.

  The Celestial Origin Sect possessed exactly ninety-eight disciples in the awareness integration realm. Most of them had occupied that cultivation stage for over a century. Granted the enhanced mental capabilities of their own advanced cultivation, the grand elders could name and recognize them all without effort. Su Yi was indeed, in Itinay's private estimation, a promising one. She could very well advance to the spirit tempering realm within a decade or two. A sound fighter who had worked to strengthen the defenses laid over the Killing Fields for many years, she knew the area better than most in her realm. From a purely logical perspective her choice made perfect sense.

  She was also a member of the Formation Pavilion and a notable beauty.

  It seemed co-opting was the order of the day.

  Anger spilled through Itinay, a sudden surge of fury traced to this daring act of usurpation. This was her plan, and she was not inclined to share control or credit over it. Such blatant pressure, especially from one of the only grand elders younger than herself, was a slap to the face.

  Rage did not sustain. Hers was the dao of distant, frigid starlight, the endless persistence of the slowly cooling against the coming dark. Fiery emotions found no purchase in her, slicked off the icy surface of her core being. The uncompromising dao of the immortal transformed them instead, forming instruments sharp and piercing. She would not react, would not indulge in emotional expression, but neither would she forget.

  They were immortals. There was no need to level the scales this day. All would be measured out in due course.

  Something known to both women, a realization that prompted secondary reflections.

  Eculay was not simply being manipulative for its own sake, for all that she was capable of such and enjoyed traps more than most. She was sincere. She, who valued the traditions of the sect and its continuity above all, had recognized that Qing Liao's immense potential justified this deviation. She'd chosen, against all expectation, to align herself with new possibilities.

  This, following on Neay's unexpected support previously, made two. A pattern was forming.

  Scanning the group, feeling out qi and faces alike, Itinay realized that a deep-wrought change was taking place. They were, amazingly, united. Even Ohlay, once immensely opposed to all things involving the new initiate, supported this plan. Opposition to Itinay herself, her role, her methods, these things remained, same as they ever were, but the eight gathered together were all behind the plan, a unanimous intention to form and spring this trap.

  Such an unbelievable reversal of immortal opinion demanded explanation.

  It came to Itinay almost instantly. Grief. That was the answer. They were the leaders of the sect, the masters of the pavilions. Long past maintenance of bonds to any mortal or mortal society, their ties belonged only to their fellow cultivators. If they faced this horde as they always had, twenty-three times in the past, there would be hideous casualties. Hundreds of their treasured subordinates, some known for centuries, would perish.

  But if the plan worked, if Qing Liao managed to send the signal at the first chance, that could be averted. Casualties would drop to a minimum, friends, comrades, and lovers would survive. This dream, simple but filled with immense power, rose high enough to shift the desires even of immortals.

  “If Su Yi is willing, then by all means, I have no objections,” Itinay conceded with as much grace as she could muster. Eculay's sincerity demanded that much.

  She turned to Uzay next. “Be thorough in your testing sister, you are right to be concerned.” It seemed Qing Liao truly was a catalyst. She would have to see whether or not events to come shaped him in turn, or if they simply shattered him. Though putting matters to the test so soon was an aggravation, they lived in a merciless age. Some damage was inevitable.