Chapter One hundred ninety-six (Patreon)

The story didn’t take long once he started, but soon Lianhua had her face buried in her hands. “Which princess?” she muttered. “If it was the youngest, she’s what, barely eighteen?” Her shoulders heaved as she sighed, and she looked up at Kaz. “We met her, I think. My grandfather sent a message to King Maleim, but Gaoda…”

She trailed off, closing her eyes as if remembering something painful. “He was terrible. He flirted with all the ladies, as if his charm was undeniable. He insulted anyone he thought held a lower position than him, but he didn’t understand all the titles, so he angered some very powerful people with one thing or another, including Lord Hartton, who should have been the one to take us to Shensheng.”

Kaz had no idea what ‘flirting’ was, but he well understood the dangers of insulting those of higher rank. It was always better to be polite to everyone than to risk angering those who could make your life miserable if they decided they didn’t like you. Honestly, even those of lower rank could take petty vengeance if they wished, so not angering them was wise as well.

Opening her eyes, she went on, “I think that was the quiet princess. There were three, maybe four of them, but the oldest was definitely married, and two of the others seemed happy enough to spend their time dancing and chatting with their friends, but the fourth… No, she wasn’t so rude as to ignore us, but she spoke only as much as politeness called for, and left as soon as possible.”

Lianhua paused thoughtfully, then shook her head. “If Raff’s sister is as high ranking as she must be to attend a princess,” her eyes cut to the flap of the tent, and her voice went dry, “then Raff must be at least a lord as well. Even as a younger son, that makes him Gaoda’s equal, at least.”

But not yours? Kaz thought, watching the play of emotions crossing her face. Amusement, irritation, then back to amusement.

<She’s like the princess,> Li said, as if Kaz had spoken to her. Was he thinking as loudly as she did? Did she find his internal conversation as amusing as he found hers?

He glanced at the dragon, who watched them through half-open eyes. Her eyes were settling into a shade of deep gold with specks of black and blue, but now they swirled as they had when she was newly hatched. If Lianhua was conflicted, Li was not. The little dragon thought the situation was very funny.

You think so? he thought, this time trying to send the words to her. She rubbed the side of her head with one clawed paw.

<Don’t think so loud,> she told him crossly. <Yes. Lianhua is descended from a dragon. How could humans fail to recognize and worship that?>

Kaz blinked. He hadn’t really put together the fact that Lianhua’s family was descended from the Diushi emperors, and the Diushi emperors were dragons, or at least part dragon. That made Lianhua part dragon as well.

Li sniffed softly. <You’re just as much dragon as she is,> she thought, clearly pleased by the idea. <Maybe someday you really will be able to fly with me, and not just on my back.> A hint of true pleasure at the idea reached him, and Kaz smiled.

I hope so, he told her. He would certainly do everything in his power to make their dream come true, and he was learning that his power was not inconsiderable.

But what about this other idea, that Kaz himself was part dragon? It did make sense. If the first Magmablade chief was also descended from Qiangde, and Kaz was descended from her… That made him a descendant of the dragon emperor as well. True, it had been a thousand years or more since then, but unlike the humans, the kobolds only had a limited population to choose from.

Pups from mates who were too closely related could be born as numb minds or worse, so kobolds didn’t take mates within a few generations of their own family. But still,  it was clear that the chiefs of the great tribes preferred to take mates from among the other chiefs’ families. That meant that his connection to Qiangde had probably been bred back in dozens of times since Princess Tiyang became Tegra of the Magmablades.

And what about the other first chiefs? Had they also been of the emperor’s bloodline? It seemed likely, since Lianhua said humans were never born with cores, but had to refine and cultivate their ki to create one. That meant most cored humans would be extremely powerful. Too powerful to take and change?

But Qiangde himself had remembered leaving his position to one of his offspring who had been born with a core, like a beast. Had that trait bred true? If so, that would make his own family the best source of ‘humans’ with cores to experiment on. Had the mosui and the reptilian xiyi also descended from Qiangde’s children? It didn’t seem like it, the way the dragon emperor had thought about Dongwu’s creations. But who was this Dongwu? Lianhua had recognized Zhangwo’s human name. Would she recognize Dongwu as well? Or had she, like Zhangwo, taken a new name when she became Qiangde’s servant? And did that mean Nucai had also once been someone else?

“Kaz?” Lianhua’s voice snapped him out of the dizzying spiral of questions. She and Li were both staring at him, and he wondered how much he had missed. He was so tired, but there was no way his thoughts were going to let him rest yet.

“Yes?” he asked, trying to focus on the human female’s concerned face.

“You need to sleep,” she told him, as if he weren’t already aware. “Go lie down with Li. We’ll keep watch.”

He shook his head. “I have something I need to do.” Always. There was always something. Some conversation, some exploration, some effort to grow as he continually discovered that his strength was still insufficient to do everything he wanted to do. How could he keep Li safe if creatures like Nucai and Heishe were out there? Heishe at least seemed to be neutral toward him, but Nucai was definitely unhappy, and Kaz was far from certain that the ancient being couldn’t reach outside the mountain somehow.

Lianhua’s silvery brows drew together. “What?”

Kaz picked up the pouch that had been tied to his belt and opened it, picturing a small blue pot with the rune for Wood carved into it. The pot fell into his palm as he traded a spark of ki for it, and he opened it, pouring the contents into his mouth as he did so.

Lianhua’s eyes widened, and she reached for him, but she was too late. Kaz tasted something terribly bitter that transformed into sweetness. Sweet, but not overwhelmingly so, as tanuo had become when he grew older, in spite of the fact that he had loved it when he was little. It melted on his tongue, offering hints of bitterness, then a sour bite that made his cheeks suck in. He grimaced as that shifted to salt, as if he’d licked one of the salt crystals that formed around some pools of water. Finally, sweetness again, and Kaz managed to swallow, his throat working convulsively.

Heat burned through his chest, and for a moment, he wondered if the old healer had given him the wrong medicine after all, and this was for Magmablades. Not that Kaz couldn’t use it, but he wanted blue. Everything he had learned about Wood ki, and the Woodblades, told him that he belonged with them, not the Magmablades. He loved Rega, but if he could choose one of his parents to emulate, it would be Ghazt.

The heat turned to a cool, rich flood, unlike anything he’d ever felt before. In his abdomen, his core spun, taking in the first rush of it as if it had been starving, and here, at last, was food. For the first time, he truly realized that there was almost no blue ki in the mountain.

Some, yes. Plants, fungus, even animals produced it, but they also used every bit. Everything around him had run on the bare minimum of Wood ki needed, and as he fell back among the cushion beside Li, the life of the new world around him reached out and swallowed him up.

Trees. Full of life, unlike the great Tree the kobolds believed held up the mountain. But more than that, every bush, blade of grass, and flower held Wood ki. He’d known, had seen it in the same way he ‘saw’ sunlight, in that some things were brighter than others, which lingered in shadow. He was aware of it, without it affecting much.

But now it all streamed toward and into him, as if he was the one cultivating, and they were him. He took it all in, and his core spun. It spun, filled, and, with a sharp stab of agony, threatened to crack as the power inside pushed out.

Kaz gasped, curling on his side. He clamped down on his own core, compressing it and holding it together. His middle dantian was already full, so he compressed that too, forcing more power into the same amount of space. Not that it truly took up space, because the seemingly bottomless lake of power would have drowned everyone in the tent, much less Kaz himself.

Distantly, he felt Li press herself against him. Far from the palm-sized hatchling she had once been, her chin rested on his shoulder while her tail wrapped around his leg. She took in as much of the ki threatening to overwhelm him as she could, her channels filled to overflowing with brilliant azure power. Ignoring her own discomfort, she wrapped her ki around his, supporting and reinforcing the pressure he used to hold himself in one piece.

<That’s enough,> he heard her say, in that strangely mature voice she sometimes used. <Give the extra back, or you’ll kill everything you’re taking power from. Including your human and the puppy.>

 Kaz’s eyes opened, and he stared in horror at Lianhua and Kyla. Mei stood beside Kyla, coppery teeth bared, staring around as if she would attack whatever was hurting her kobold. Lianhua was down, too, kneeling on the floor as she desperately tried to cultivate. Both of them had other colors of ki, but Lianhua’s skin was utterly white, and Kyla’s tongue was barely pink within her gaping mouth.

Kaz clamped down on his ki. This was his, and it was all he needed. The portion that had already passed through his core as it cycled had become irrevocably his, but the rest he pushed back out. Theirs, not his.

<Don’t push me away, too!> Li’s voice was sharp, but he could feel the fear coursing through her as the link between their cycles narrowed to a thread. They belonged together.

Somehow, Kaz included the dragon in his definition of himself. His ki was hers, and her ki was his. The bond between them grew to its original size, then thickened, grew stronger than it had ever been before, and he gasped as he felt cool fabric beneath his scales, and she burned with the power in her belly.

Together, they compressed their cores, their dantians, even their channels. Stronger together than either was alone, they fell into a rhythm of their own form of cultivation, refining and compressing what their cores were producing, what Kaz had inadvertently stolen from everything around him, and what the medicine in Kaz’s belly was still generating. That last, at least, had slowed to a steady flow after the initial burst, so it was manageable. Barely.

Lianhua gasped in relief as Kyla closed her mouth with a snap, eyes blinking open. She looked around as if dazed, while Mei nosed at her, using small pink hand-paws to pat at the young kobold’s fluffy fur.

Assured that they would recover - though the thought that it would be best if Chi Yincang never knew about this did manage to break through Kaz’s focus - Kaz and Li closed their eyes, blocking out everything outside themselves.

Ki became everything. The brilliant orbs that gave them power pulsed in time with their compressions. Breathe in, hold. Breathe out, release. Just a little. Just enough. Another breath, another compression, each time holding tighter until they simply couldn’t any more.

Pulse. Hold. Breathe. Hold. The beat of their hearts, the swell of their lungs, the pressure of blood and power forcing its way through every part of their bodies. Kaz and Li were one, separate but whole, alone and together, a world of contradictions that defined truth.

Their cores shifted. Compression became actuality. The ki they gripped so tightly gained a new level of saturation. Sapphire, ruby, gold, moonstone, and obsidian became something Kaz had no words for.

They let go. Slowly, then more quickly, as the ki remained within their cores instead of threatening to explode forth into their bodies or, worse, their surroundings. They convulsed, and blackness oozed from every part of them, as if their skin itself had been unclean.

I forgot about this part, Kaz thought woozily as he spat out a mouthful of rancid goo.

<How could you?> Li asked, sending him pictures, memories of each and every time this had happened to them before.

“Just… wanted to be stronger,” Kaz gasped, rolling away from the pillow that was now soaked in filth. Li clung to him, and he turned her, too.

The pillow shifted, pulling away, leaving the two of them lying on the cold, oiled cloth Raff had laid over the muddy ground. “If it wasn’t raining cats and dogs, I’d kick you out, but as it is…” She sighed, then gagged, and Kaz cracked his eyes open long enough to see her throw the filthy pillow out into the rain. It was followed by several others, until the area around Kaz and Li was utterly bare.

Unfortunately, kobold and dragon were themselves covered in more of the black goo, and after a few moments, Lianhua walked around, picking up the few cushions that were still clean. She shoved them into her pouch, then took out two umbrellas.

Turning to Kyla, who was now sitting up and snuggling her fuergar, Lianhua offered the pup one of the umbrellas. “I have another tent,” she told Kyla. “It’s small, but it doesn’t stink.”

Instantly, Kyla stood, and the two females headed for the tent flap. Opening it, they lifted their umbrellas, and stepped out into the storm, preferring to face a second drenching to remaining trapped inside the tent with Kaz and Li.

“We’re in trouble,” Kaz said hoarsely, rolling his head so he could look at Li.

The dragon bit his nose.