狐死兔泣 (hú sǐ tù qì) – When the fox dies, the rabbit cries; To mourn the loss of a friend.

  “There they are!”

  Gong Lau Yan rose from the water like a breeching whale, and they could see clearly now, the three – no, four – figures on the grey, windswept sand. Above them all, a huge arrow, wooden shaft as thick as an arm, hung menacingly. The white fletching flashed like lighting in the grey sky. A wooden plaque tied to the shaft with red string fluttered wildly.

  Yuan Yi Feng was on the back of their enormous pet shi zi, who was roaring so loudly that even at two kilometres away, they could hear her loud and clear.

  How Tsaam Lei was standing in the face of it, even reaching out, was a wonder. His handsome face was gone, replaced with a fox’s head, white-furred, half of it horribly scarred with patches of shining pink skin and jaws that split his face from ear to ear.

  Circling them all was a screaming flock of birds, or perhaps shadows, moving to the orders of the necromancer. When Zeyi tried to focus on each individual bird, she found she couldn’t. One bird became another, and although she seemed to be watching the movement of many individual creatures, she felt instinctively that she was watching a single, ancient entity, and at the same time, she felt an inexplicable unease. They dived at small, indecipherable shapes moving on the beach around Tsaam Lei.

  “Lau Yan!” There was no need to urge speed; Gong Lau Yan had already sprung forwards like an arrow from a bowstring before Zeyi had spoken.

  At this distance, they could now see that the necromancer was covered in scratches, bright red blood stark against her pale skin. Yuan Yi Feng’s pale hair was loose, and they swung a wooden staff in one hand and a small dagger in their other. The staff seemed to be mostly functioning as a distraction – Tsaam Lei only had to flick a finger to make it bounce back – but he was watching the dagger with unusual anxiety.

  There was a small glow forming before the shi zi. An unusually long, white candle, with a desperately small flicker of flame, had materialised before the lion-dog’s snarling face, and Tsaam Lei was reaching for it with a clawed hand.

  Ribbons of seaweed and strings of flowering sea pea rapidly crawled up the fox’s legs, seeking his arms, but his hand had already closed around the candle.

  With a whimper, the shi zi staggered, falling onto her broad chest.

  But it was Tsaam Lei who wailed in pain. A shadow had rushed off the necromancer – as Gong Lau Yan and Zeyi emerged from the ocean in a rush of water, they glimpsed a spectral pair of gaping, fanged jaws, and Tsaam Let’s arm, from the elbow down, was torn from his body.

  There was no blood. Something thick and sticky and transparent yellow leaked slowly from the wound onto the sand. A terrible smell of pine and tar suffused the air, and Tsaam Lei turned, turned and ran, a three-legged fox, white-furred, bare and damaged patches of skin all across his body. He fled along the beach, littered with broken fragments of what looked like wooden toys – carved cats, perhaps – as Zeyi leapt from Gong Lau Yan’s back, hands forming spiritual seals. A wave rose up, curling over Tsaam Lei like a hand, and slammed down upon him. He tried to rise again as the water receded, his voice bright with desperation as he called “Eitsu! Eitsu!” but the woman before him was not the divine cat who might have been his lover, but the loong who had once been his friend. Gong Lau Yan’s voice was tight with pain as she called his name in response, as though she were the one he had called to. “Tsaam Lei…”

  His eyes, one bottomless and black, the other white and sightless, met hers, the grey-brown of a slow river, then Yuan Yi Feng swung their hand down, and the hovering, waiting arrow slammed into Tsaam Lei’s back, pinning him to the sand.

  “What is that?” Zeyi asked quietly. There was no need to whisper, but the energy had been drained from them all. Sunny the shi zi lay curled on her side, in a state of shock that her life had almost been taken away prematurely. The necromancer lay next to her, holding her head and muttering in her stubby ears, occasionally combing her mane with her fingers.

  Yuan Yi Feng had reattached Tsaam Lei’s arm and was now sitting a little distance away, eyes closed and face pale with exhaustion, their spiritual energy flickering strangely around them.

  Gong Lau Yan was the only one standing. She stared down at the immobile humanoid form of Tsaam Lei. He knelt silently, hands secured behind his back, staring blankly at the sand before him. There was no hint of recognition in his expression, but then, they had expected that. He had auctioned off the skin of one of his oldest friends without any sign of regret, after all.

  “What happened to you?” Gong Lau Yan said at last, but he didn’t respond.

  “It’s a miracle he’s even alive, Lau Yan,” Zeyi said softly. “You and he both.”

  “But why did he become like this? I’m ill, but I didn’t lose my memories. I didn’t start trapping and selling my own kind! I didn’t try to sell my sister’s…!”

  “Maybe you could try giving him one of the elixirs Haat Ngan Wan gave you.”

  “Don’t,” Yuan Yi Feng cautioned. They had finally opened their eyes, but they were suffused with leaf green. “Those pills treat your chronic dehydration. They wouldn’t help Li… Tsaam Lei.”

  Zeyi crouched down beside her Junior Sibling. “Yi Feng… you’re close to Ascension, aren’t you?”

  “I’m not going anywhere yet.” Yuan Yi Feng smiled. “What kind of disciple would I be if I left before Master?”

  Zeyi glanced over at the necromancer. She had wondered, before, how they would fare if her Junior Sibling chose to Ascend. But watching those strange birds that followed the sorcerer, and examining her closely, Zeyi could tell that she was no longer human.

  Yuan Yi Feng wouldn’t be Ascending and leaving the necromancer behind. She had already gone beyond, and was waiting for the cultivator to catch up.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “They called it a hamaya,” Yuan Yi Feng said, finally answering Zeyi’s question. “It’s an exorcising arrow. A death guide gave it to us.” They sighed and looked to Tsaam Lei. “One of his ex-colleagues. Their place of the dead is called Yomi, and those who lead the dead there, such as Tsaam Lei, are called shinigami.”

  “How did you end up there?” Gong Lau Yan said to the wu li jing’s bowed head. Zeyi traced the gaze of his eyes, finding they were fixed on an object buried in the sand. She fished it out, brushing grains away. It was the remains of a carved wooden cat, blasted apart by… something. Casting the briefest of glances at the necromancer, she handed the object to Gong Lau Yan.

  Tsaam Lei’s eye followed it.

  “He was fighting us with those before,” said Yuan Yi Feng. “We… had to destroy them.”

  Tsaam Lei let out a bitter laugh from the back of his throat. It was the only sound he had made since the hamaya had sealed him.

  Gong Lau Yan began to comb through the sand for more fragments of wooden cats while Zeyi settled back down beside Yuan Yi Feng. “Where did you meet this shinigami who gave you the arrow? How did you even end up here?”

  “We checked Tsaam Lam first, but I don’t believe Li has been there in a very long time. There was no concentration of his spiritual power in any one place, just a general underlying sensation. Since there has been no news of creatures going missing, it seemed he was lying low somewhere. We decided to go to Yamato since we were aware he had a connection with Lady Eitsu, and it was the only lead of sorts that we had.” Yuan Yi Feng closed their eyes briefly and breathed deep. “When we arrived, we ran into a shinigami, Jihi, who gave us one of these arrows and said that Li… Rei… Tsaam Lei had been seen in the west of Yamato.”

  “Tin Yeung Wong said that their court, Jigoku, was looking for him.”

  “And I can’t for the life of me work out why they fecking didn’t,” the necromancer growled, propping herself up. “He was only a week north of here.”

  “That would take you over the border,” Zeyi said. “Chup-tuk is a very different place from Yamato. The jurisdiction is… Well, there are different powers there.”

  Gong Lau Yan returned with several pieces of cat in her hands. She patiently knitted plant fibres together until there was a single cat, about one and a half handspan wide. “So this arrow seals his power? And it’s near impossible to remove…” Crouching down before Tsaam Lei, she tucked the carved cat into the front of his black outer robes.

  She looked up to find he was staring at her again, but the expression on his face had transfigured from blank to something indescribable. There was curiosity there, confusion, and contempt.

  “How will you contact Yomi?”

  “Already done,” the necromancer grunted. Her face was smushed into Sunny’s.

  “She sent one of her… messengers.”

  “What are those… birds?” Zeyi asked, unsure if she wanted an answer. “They seem somewhat demonic, but different.”

  “Good enough,” the necromancer responded. The implied shut-down of that topic of conversation was clear.

  “I’ll go and send my own message to my aunt,” Gong Lau Yan said. She rose and padded away to the tideline. Tsaam Lei’s eyes followed her.

  “Do you remember her?” Zeyi watched him closely.

  There was no response. Tsaam Lei’s head dropped back down. He seemed to be looking at the wooden cat tucked into his robe.

  “You found him.”

  On the beach with them now was a figure, robed in the same black uniform as Tsaam Lei, but instead of a human or fox head protruding from her collar, she had a white-feathered bird’s head crowned by a broad-brimmed black hat, the brim ringed with lit white candles.

  “Lady Jihi.” Yuan Yi Feng tried to stand to bow but stumbled. Both Zeyi and the necromancer rose to catch them.

  Jihi placed her human hands on her thighs and bowed. “Honourable masters. I trust the hamaya worked as expected?”

  “As you can see.”

  Tsaam Lei chuckled harshly as Jihi approached. “I don’t believe I’ve seen your face before, Lady Shinigami.”

  “Nor I yours, Mr Rei. But I have heard of you. And I have my orders. Let us depart for Jigoku.”

  “You will not object to us travelling with you, Lady Jihi?” Yuan Yi Feng asked. “Since we also have our own reparations to pursue.”

  “You would not survive in Yomi for long, Honourable Master.” Jihi assessed the necromancer, and then Zeyi, without emotion. “You would be perfectly able, as a death deity, to travel safely through Yomi. And your power has some resonance with the power of Yomi. You could enter for a short time.”

  “Tin Yeung Wong will be here soon,” Gong Lau Yan said, returning from the water. She was completely dry.

  “I’m afraid I cannot wait,” Jihi said, with an air of polite apology.

  “Feck, what’s the rush?” The necromancer ruffled Yuan Yi Feng’s still-untied hair. “I’ll be going. Look after Sunny, ye hear?”

  “Stay until my aunt arrives, Zeyi,” said Gong Lau Yan. “I’m sure you insist on going, so you should hold off as long as possible.” She cocked a smile at the necromancer. “We’ll look after Yi Feng.”

  Jihi untied a wooden plaque from her waist sash and handed it to Gong Lau Yan. “This talisman will lead you to Yomi, Your Highness.”

  “You know me?” Gong Lau Yan asked, taking it.

  “I know of you. Some of my colleagues met you, many decades ago.”

  The loong’s eyebrows creased, but she stayed silent, turning the plaque over in her hands. One side was blank, while the other bore lines of poetry.

  The golden crow approaching the west building,

  The sound of the drum shortening my life,

  The road to the underworld is with neither guest nor host,

  This evening whose house shall I turn to?

  Yuan Yi Feng and the necromancer spoke quietly and briefly, huddled close to Sunny. Gong Lau Yan and Zeyi turned to watch over the ocean, only turning back when the necromancer gave them nods as she left.

  Zeyi sat down on the sand beside Yuan Yi Feng, who had flopped back into Sunny’s fluffy fur and was watching the disappearing backs of the necromancer, Jihi and Tsaam Lei. Gong Lau Yan stayed standing, frowning at the talisman.

  Barely more than an hour later, a head broke the surface of the ocean, followed by another, and another, and another. A delegation of loong emerged from the tide, transforming into human forms resplendent in formal robes. Tin Yeung Wong glided out in the lead, and just behind her stalked Maan Dzi King.

  Greetings performed, Gong Lau Yan showed the plaque to her aunt. “The shinigami gave this to us to guide us to Yomi.”

  “Yim Se.” Tin Yeung Wong called forward one of the retinue. Gong Lau Yan seemed to recognise her; they exchanged nods. “Take this plaque and message pearl to Lord Enma of Jigoku.”

  Yim Se bowed and took the items. The plaque began to glow and float before her, and she flowed easily across the beach after it.

  “I know the way,” Tin Yeung Wong said, before Gong Lau Yan could ask. She considered Yuan Yi Feng with mild curiosity. “You must be the direct disciple of my sister. You’ve done well, despite her absence.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “This is not a place for you. I would recommend that you return to Yuan Mei.”

  “I cannot, not until this matter is laid to rest.”

  “Then at least to Mount Hua. I can arrange an escort.”

  “I appreciate it, Your Majesty.”

  The party divided; Yuan Yi Feng, Sunny, and a loong escort to travel to Mount Hua, and the remainder to travel to Jigoku. Tin Yeung Wong had caused formal robes to be brought for Gong Lau Yan and Zeyi. The latter found herself holding a set of official robes of the Dzue Royal Family. Rich black cloth with a golden dragon embroidered across the back, she could already tell that they didn’t suit her.

  “I’m going to change these once Dzue is stable again,” she muttered to Gong Lau Yan.

  “Good idea.”

  Maan Dzi King watched them narrowly, but looked away as soon as Zeyi looked back. The demon in her heart sniggered.

  “You’re ready? Well then.” Tin Yeung Wong nodded once they were dressed. “Let us depart.”

  The delegation streamed away from the coast, following the route taken by Yim Se. Below the calm expression on Tin Yeung Wong’s face and the grim one on Gong Lau Yan’s was a nervous tension that Zeyi could feel palpably. Perhaps, at the end of this journey, they would finally receive some answers as to why the skin of their sister and mother had ended up as a product in an auction.

  Perhaps they wouldn’t.