Fate's Attendant 1.4

Not only could the badger read, but it was also able to write. The problem, however, became apparent immediately. When the badger scratched its name into the mud, “Ling,” the characters were from the same unfamiliar language as the one on the portrait.

“It has to be magic,” Hong Fei said. “That’s why you can understand me.”

The beast pointed between itself and the letters. It then directed him to listen to the sound of the wind blowing gently through the leaves, followed by it striking a hollow length of wood it found nearby. He wondered at what the creature meant to convey, but quickly caught on that it was demonstrating the pronunciation of its name.

He repeated the sounds as he heard them, varying the way they were formed until he got close enough for the beast to be satisfied. Then, when all the pieces were assembled together, he said aloud, “Ling.”

The beast named Ling congratulated Hong Fei by patting him on the knee. It then brought his attention to the small paper with the words “Hong Fei” at the top. A single claw delicately touched the letters there before touching him.

“And this is that supposed to be me? My name?” he asked, feeling again the thrill of learning something new. Then he wrote his name in the mud using the People’s language and pronounced the words, “Hong Fei.”

Ling nodded, then gestured to the word “Body” before pointing at his various limbs. “Mind,” on the other hand, dealt exclusively with the head, and “Soul” was a complete mystery to Hong Fei. And to Ling, too, apparently—the badger’s gestures were both confused and confusing.

The overall lesson did eventually become clear, however, and Hong Fei understood that the text was meant to describe him, just as the portrait described Ling. For example, the empty circle “0” was a quantification of his body’s state, empty of power. And while the exact meaning of “Sword Prodigy” wasn’t clear, he at least knew it was related to his skill with a blade. The badger had pointed to his scabbard and mimed swinging it.

By the time there was only moonlight left to see by, Hong Fei had several new words and numbers in his possession. He also finally saw that the badger was female, the differences in anatomy becoming obvious in the tutoring of the new language.

He sat back against the rough marble and let his hand stroke the bushy fur of the badger’s tail. Ling lay next to him, listening to the forest breathe. The wind rustled through the multitude of leaves, the bird calls replaced by the chirping of insects.

The figs from earlier were long gone, and Hong Fei distracted himself by wondering about cultivators and their powers. He’d heard of contracts between them and spirit beasts, and he’d always imagined them to be affairs of light and magic—glowing arrays illuminating heaven and earth or fiery letters burned into an enchanted hide preserved just for that purpose.

That death was somehow involved wasn’t surprising, but the plain leather satchel was. So was the arrangement of pictures and texts. They were, he thought, about the size and shape of the playing cards the Thaloni used for chess. He’d met a merchant from those lands once, the man making the long journey to trade the barbarians’ ceramics for the People’s spices.

Those cards, with their illustrations of soldiers and priests, had been mundane. The ones in Hong Feil’s possession… soft light spilled from his hand as he held up the badger’s card. No vows had been required of him, nor blood spilled or sacrificed. If not for the very real giant beast resting beside him, Hong Fei would’ve scoffed at the idea any magic had taken place at all.

Ling glanced at him, then turned back toward watching the forest.

With this, he thought, I might have something of real value to offer the duke. No one needs to know how the beast was tamed; just that the badger is in my service. Otherwise…

All it’d taken to transfer the contract was a man’s death, and Hong Fei knew how easy that was to arrange.

###

The next day, Ling refused to let Hong Fei out from under the overhang until he climbed aboard her back. Whatever mortification he felt was suppressed—by the intent look in her eyes and his own ruthless determination.

The evening had passed uneventfully, but Hong Fei had noticed the wounds on the cultivator’s dead body. Something strong enough to kill him lived in this forest. He’d need to preserve his strength in case the two of them were attacked.

As Hong Fei once more perched inelegantly on Ling’s back, he didn’t see how the intensity of her gaze didn’t waver. Her steps were sure as they departed their place of rest.

Ling carried him into the densely clustered bushes. Most were pliable from the abundance of rain, but the occasional thorn and stiff branch forced him to keep his head down, his face close to her fur, and his arms forward as shields. The terrain would’ve been difficult for him alone, but the badger moved with confidence.

Where there was no game trail or gap in the sea of green, she used her claws to create one, passing by with ease the trunks and branches of trees fighting their way toward the light above. They traveled throughout the morning, almost as if unimpeded, stopping only once so that Hong Fei could gorge himself on wild figs.

A pair of flying squirrels living in the tree had fled as soon as Ling had appeared, but a field mouse at the base was slower. She snapped it up in a single bite.

From there, they continued through the morning until the sound of rushing water could be heard. According to Hong Fei’s map, that was the Tistkil River, the name a holdover from the barbarians who’d lived on the island before the People came to inhabit it.

The air smelled fresher here, and Ling took them closer until the ground dropped away to reveal the gorge cut by the Tistkil, the rugged cliff walls mottled in marble and slate. Down at the bottom, the water’s jewel-like aquamarine was fringed in white where it frothed against stones in the riverbed.

The road to Ruby Swift City paralleled the Tistkil’s course for the second half of the journey, and there it was, following the river like a well-behaved cousin.

At a turn in the road, at the river’s bank, sat a rock formation in the shape of a giant toad. The striations in the rock made it look stern and imposing. An elderly couple stood beside it, taking turns to drink from a gourd. A pair of full backpacks lay at each of their feet. From their dress, they were likely traveling merchants.

Hong Fei couldn’t help staring. Above each of them was a 2 glowing in deathly white.

“Do you see that?” he whispered.

Ling tensed and searched the area for danger.

“The number 2 is above each of their heads,” Hong Fei clarified.

In response, the badger grew even warier. She pulled away from the cliff’s edge and into the green sea once more, her nose snuffling near constantly.

Hong Fei wasn’t a fool, and he released a hand from Ling’s fur to put it on the hilt of his sword. The badger clearly knew more than he did, and if she thought floating numbers represented danger, then he was going to follow her lead. His uncomfortable anticipation turned into confusion, however, when Ling appeared to be tracking toward the danger that had alarmed her so.

Hong Fei was again reminded of the stories he’d heard about pigs trained to uncover natural treasures. He wondered if that was how Ling’s former master had used her. If so, then of course she’d pursue the source. The issue, and the explanation for her wariness, was that treasures usually had guardians.

“I’d rather keep my life,” he whispered. “It’s taken quite a lot just to get this far.”

Ling ignored him, moving with a surety that had Hong Fei’s stomach clenching. The badger had most certainly caught the scent of something that interested her.

“I order you to stop,” he said more forcefully.

Ling shook her ears at him, her steps not slowing in the slightest. The contract between them, if one truly existed, didn’t compel her to obey him, so the question now in Hong Fei’s mind was whether he ought to stay with her or let go and take his chances on his own.

Will that force her to give up pursuit? he wondered. The satchel came to me, perhaps she will, too, once she’s found what she’s searching for.

Not one to hesitate, Hong Fei tumbled onto the ground, and Ling walked nearly a dozen steps before realizing his weight had left her back. That caused her spin around, her claws lifting, only for them to be set down onto the ground again when she saw he was all right.

Hong Fei levered himself to standing and faced the badger. “I’m not going with you. I don’t need wealth or natural treasures—just a way for me to be put to meaningful use.”

Ling considered the man before her, then approached slowly so as to not frighten him. With her claw, she drew a 4 in the still-muddy ground. Using that same claw, she gestured to the satchel where the cards were kept. Then she pointed at him—his legs, his arms, his heart, and his head, as if trying encompass the whole of his being.

Hong Fei understood her to mean that the treasure would enhance the magical artifact in some way and through that to help him, too. There was a kindness in her eyes that shocked him. He didn’t expect it even after all the things she’d done on his behalf—protecting him, providing for him, and carrying him on her back.

There’d been many people in Hong Fei’s life who’d loved and cared for him. There’d been very few who were kind. That simply wasn’t how soldiers were typically raised. He swallowed, a wave of unexpected emotion moving through him, and stood his ground.

Hong Fei wouldn’t let the weakness of his body or heart interfere with good sense. That was how battles were lost—both the personal ones and those between armies.

The badger stepped away with a sigh. Seeing the resolution in him, she turned to continue the chase, glancing back with reluctance toward where Hong Fei remained standing. Then, she disappeared into the green sea and left only swaying bushes in her wake.

When he was sure she was gone, Hong Fei bent over to ease the strain in his back. He looked around the immediate area and saw a boulder about knee high. He hobbled toward it. The surface was still wet from dew and the previous day’s rain, but he was covered in mud already from rolling off Ling’s back. He told himself a few more stains wouldn’t matter.

Hong Fei had enough money in his pouch now for a laundress for his clothes and bath for himself. Both would be so very welcome. But first he would wait for Ling’s return. The badger was powerful, her claws sharp. She would surely overcome the danger she pursued. That was what he told himself as he waited.

His sword lay on his knees. He listened to the wind and the birds singing in the trees. Hong Fei sat so still that the squirrels forgot his presence. They flew from branch to branch above him. The day warmed, and the humidity rose in conjunction with the sun.

Ling didn’t come back. He waited, but the bushes never parted. Her snout didn’t emerge from amid the forest’s overwhelming greenness. When Hong Fei took out her card to look at it, all the color had been leached out. The lines were drawn as if from ashes.

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