Page 17 of The Wind Dancer
Three stalks, two stones, one stream — the way is open.”
I frowned. The lines resembled old poems from the Shu Dynasty, but their content seemed off. Now it was clear why I had been instructed to read so much literature. I understood the layered language of references that officials and nobles used to conceal meaning behind beauty.
“Moon... wind... flowers... three, two, one...”
The Ziahua system.
It was definitely that one. It was one of the most complicated ones he shared with me, or rather, drilled into me until I could decipher it even when half asleep.
It always looked like a normal text, maybe even quickly jotted down notes. But the key was always hidden in the numbers.
Three, two, one...
I looked at the sentences again. The numbers were always a sequence. Some indicated which characters should be read differently, while others hinted at the location of key characters.
Flowers, rocks, stream...
My mentor often used images of nature, and each carried their own meaning. A flower could mean a fork in the road, a stone — a shelter, a stream — a tunnel, or an underground passage.
I closed my eyes and remembered this system. If I took the third character in the first line, the second in the second, and the first in the last...
I wrote them down on a piece of paper:
“The House of the Sleeping Dragon.”
I tensed up.
Mei Lin was right. My mentor did give me instructions. This was one of his hiding places. One I knew about.
I had to hide any trace of it.
I moved to the candle and held the note above the flame. It consumed the paper along with the mystery. I crumbled the ashes between my fingers so that no one could tell what it had been.
Now I had a clear goal. But it would have to wait until morning. I had to rest to be ready for it.
I lay down on the bed, feeling the fatigue set in. I had done too much today.
Closing my eyes, I made myself fall into a deep sleep.
I was surrounded by darkness. Cold, all-encompassing, yet somehow alive.
And then I saw everything as though I was standing next to myself. The space around was trembling and constantly changing, like a reflection on a water surface.
I was now standing in a massive hall carved out of black stone. The smooth walls rose to a hidden vault, dotted with flickering symbols that looked like living light. Tall columns, carved with spiral patterns, rose up, disappearing into the darkness. The stone beneath my feet was as smooth as a mirror, reflecting light that didn’t exist, as though the hall remembered something long extinguished.
I took a step, and the floor beneath me shook, as if something ancient had awakened deep underground.
A colossal monument stood in the center of the hall. Dragon statues carved out of obsidian, their eyes flickering scarlet like glowing coals. They looked directly at me, appraisingly, deciding whether to attack or claim me.
And then a voice rang out.
It was lifeless, as if the stone itself were speaking.
“The bearer has been entered into the Eternal Record.”
I shuddered, looking around, not really understanding.
“The genetic key has been activated.”
