Page 23 of The Wind Dancer
Fu Shang wouldn’t have risked his position without a good reason. If this got out, he’d pay with his life. Shadows never forgive betrayal.
I opened my eyes. The feeling of being hunted stuck with me since I left the estate. At least three parties were after me. I had to deal with my pursuers before they dealt with me...
CHAPTER 7
The elders of the Shadow Walkers’ guild rarely gathered, preferring to stay unseen. Over the years, each of them gained formidable power that extended far beyond the Lower City. Their connections spanned the entire Cloud City, and for many, their word was law.
They gathered today for two reasons that were unfortunately intertwined.
The first item on the list was simple: young Feng Lao was eager to attain the status of a master, and the only barrier before him had been his age. It was unheard of for a man who wasn’t even in his thirties to become a master.
The second reason was much more unpleasant. A fire at the dragonblood’s estate, which had left it in ruins.
Beneath the arches of a secret hall hidden in the depths of the Middle City, oil lamps burned, casting dancing shadows on black stone walls. A massive long table dominated the center of the room. There were five people sitting at it, the five pillars of the guild.
The mark of one of the dragons was carved on the back of each chair.
Lian Shu, the Daymaster, represented the Earth element. His long fingers were fiddling with a jade rosary, and his gaze was as cold as a winter dawn. He controlled illegal trade, theft, tribute collection, and oversaw the flow of money and connections of the upper circles. Everything was a calculation to him.
Sat across from him was Fu Shang, the Nightmaster, who represented Water. Thin, almost snake-like, he looked like a shadow given human form. He had a narrow face, black eyes that never reflected light, and a voice as soft as a dying man’s whisper. He controlled the assassins, mercenaries, secret trades, and shady businesses that were better left unmentioned. He and Lian Shu were ever at odds, being complete opposites in element, method, and world views.
Old Yun, the owner of many local gambling houses, represented Wood. Stooped and gray-haired, but with a fire in her eyes, she exploited people’s desires and weaknesses. Her network of spies, loan sharks, and informants spread far and wide. And her word could be far more deadly than a dagger.
Jing Lei, a massive man with rough features, sat at a distance from the rest, twirling a metal nail in his hand. Rumor had it he could drive into an enemy’s eye from twenty paces away. He represented Metal, rough and unyielding. His people were masters of applying pressure through force, debt collection, and security. If something needed to be taken by brute force, he was the one to contact.
The last one was Tang Fei, who represented Fire. Short, wiry, and always grinning, he ruled over pickpockets, conartists, swindlers, and, oddly enough, corpse collectors. He often crossed paths with Fu Shang because of this.
“A mansion burned down in the Upper City,” Lian Shu said evenly, fidgeting with his rosary. “The dragonblood who owned it and everyone from the household died.”
“It’s a big loss; the guards will be restless.” Yun’s voice was as dry as a winter branch. “But that doesn’t really concern us. The dragonblood are too far above us.”
“The guards think it’s the work of another dragonblood,” Jing Lei sneered, still twirling the nail between his fingers. “The deceased was from the House of Fire Mist, and his nephews have already been informed of their uncle’s death. I think we’ll hear news of another dragonblood dying soon.”
“And if we don’t?” Fu Shang asked softly. He leaned back in his chair, his black eyes almost alive in the half-light. “What if it wasn’t another dragonblood’s doing?”
Tang Fei chuckled. “That would mean that someone interfered with their schemes. Someone who isn’t afraid of their wrath. Someone who is either very brave or very stupid.”
“Or someone who had no choice,” Lian Shu said softly. “The Venerable Nightmaster had sent one of ours there last night, with very little time to prepare.”
The room turned deadly silent. It wasn’t a direct accusation, but everyone understood what he was aiming at.
“Are you talking about Feng Lao?” Yun narrowed her eyes.
“Precisely,” Lian Shu nodded. “He not only returned, but also brought an impressive amount of loot with him. Of course, it was more impressive that he had survived.”
Jing Lei grinned, baring his sharp teeth. “So, he robbed a burned-down house? That’s an efficient way to acquire his status as a master.”
“He had robbed the house before it burned down,” Lian Shu clarified. “And I want to know what he saw.”
“Oh, that poor boy.” Old Yun shook her head. “He has no idea what he got himself into. His late mentor wouldn’t have been happy about this.”
“The old man is dead, and the boy isn’t supposed to know more than he’s been told,” Fu Shang said coldly. “If he really came back with the loot, then the question is whether he missed what happened afterward, or...”
“Whether he saw too much,” Tang Fei finished.
“We’ll interrogate him,” Lian Shu said calmly, placing the rosary on the table.
“You mean we’ll torture him to find out the truth?” Fu Shang asked, tilting his head.
