Chapter 112: Sanctuary

"I see it!" I shouted back, grinning in spite of myself. "It’s rather handy!"

I shook my arm, and the scales melted back into my skin as easily as water into sand. It was like discovering a new muscle. I had no idea what I was doing, but my body seemed to know. I tried again, this time on purpose, and a plate of black scales crawled across my shoulder and chest like a shield. A crawler slammed into it and bounced off.

"This," I said, "is the best present I’ve ever received."

"Stop admiring yourself and fight!" Qing Yan snapped, and then she was beside me, her fans snapping open with a bright, clean sound.

It was the first time I had seen her use them in a real fight.

She moved the way she always did, spinning and pivoting, but now the fans gave every motion a sweep and a reach that her hands alone could never have had. Dawn, the golden fan, threw out wide arcs of flame that rolled across the tunnel like a wave, scorching a dozen crawlers at once. Dusk, the crimson one, flicked out thin, bright lines of heat that sliced through armor like wire through cheese.

"They’re still-" she shouted, laughing, her eyes bright with fire. "Barry, they’re still dormant and they feel like this!"

"Then I can’t wait to see them awake!"

I caught a crawler by the leg and hurled it back into the pack. Beside me, Qing Yan wove a half circle with both fans, and the whole floor ahead of us went up in a sheet of crimson flame. The surviving crawlers screamed and fled back into their holes, leaving a trail of ash and twitching legs behind them.

Jiang Wei stood against the wall with his sword half drawn, staring at the scorched tunnel. "I’ve never seen anyone clear a nest that fast," he said.

"It’s mostly her," I said. "I just punched things."

"Do not be humble," Qing Yan said, drawing a small breath. She closed her fans and slid them back into her belt. "It does not suit you."

I laughed, and we started walking again.

It was only after a few minutes that I noticed Lu Chen’s blade was still in its scabbard. He hadn’t even tried to fight. When I glanced at him, he looked away fast.

The tunnel ended in a wall of stone, and Jiang Wei spent a long, anxious minute with his hands on it, whispering over his compendium. Then he found a seam, pushed, and a section of the wall swung outward on a hidden hinge.

Light poured in, white and clean and shocking after the dark.We stumbled out into daylight, blinking, and found ourselves on a narrow ledge halfway up a cliff. Below us, a long green valley stretched away between two mountain ranges. A silver river wound through it, glittering in the morning sun. and small fields lay patched across the valley floor like green and gold cloth. I couldn’t see a single house.

"That’s it," Jiang Wei said hoarsely. "That’s the sanctuary. It has to be."

"It doesn’t look like much," Lu Chen muttered.

"That’s the point," Qing Yan said. "You aren’t supposed to see it." She pointed at a thin, shimmering haze that hung over the entire valley, easy to miss unless you were looking for it. "There’s a veil. A concealment array, a big one. It makes the whole place look like empty hills from the outside."

I narrowed my eyes. She was right. Whoever had built it had done a remarkable job. If we hadn’t come through the cliff, we could have walked within a mile of this place and never known.

"How do we get in?" I asked.

"We don’t," Jiang Wei said. "They get us."

As we reached the foot of the cliff and started along a narrow path toward the valley’s mouth, a dozen figures stepped out of the rocks on both sides, bows drawn and spears leveled.

They wore patched robes and worn leather armor. None of them looked older than thirty, and none of them looked frightened.

"Halt," said the one in front, a woman with a scar across her chin. "State your names and business, and keep your hands where I can see them."

Jiang Wei stepped forward, raising both palms. "I’m Jiang Wei, former disciple of the Azure Cloud Sect. We’re survivors. We heard there was a sanctuary here."

"A lot of people have heard that," the woman said. "Most of them turned out to be demon scouts in human skin."

"We killed a good number of demon scouts," I said cheerfully. "Does that count in our favor?"

She turned her gaze to me, and the arrow in her bow didn’t waver. "And who are you?"

"Barry. A Traveling hero."

"He’s with me," Qing Yan said, stepping forward, "I am Qing Yan, last disciple of the Blazing Phoenix Sect. I have fought demons for three years in their cages, and I have no reason to lie to you."

The woman’s eyes went to the fans at Qing Yan’s belt, then to the faint flame that licked the edge of her sleeve. Her expression changed. It was subtle, but I saw it.

"Phoenix," she said. "I haven’t seen one of you since the northern sects fell."

"There are very few of us left," Qing Yan said quietly.

The woman studied her for a long moment. Then she lowered her bow. "Stand down," she called. "Send word to the Lord."

The valley’s veil parted like water as we walked through it, and a rush of warm, sweet air closed around us. The haze was gone, and in its place was the most beautiful sight I had seen since waking up in this world.

It wasn’t a city. It was a sprawl of low timber houses, each with a garden and a thatched roof, scattered along the riverbank and up the slopes of the hills. Smoke curled from chimneys. Children ran between the fields, shouting. Old women sat on porches, shelling beans. A blacksmith hammered at an anvil under a canopy, and the clang of his hammer rang bright and cheerful over the water.

There were so many people. maybe thousands, and every single one was human.

"I forgot," Qing Yan whispered beside me, her voice catching. "I forgot places like this could exist."

I didn’t answer. A crowd began to gather as we walked, curious and cautious. People stopped their work to stare at the strangers, at Qing Yan’s red dress, at the gold earrings that swayed with every step. Some of them murmured. A few of the older ones bowed.

Then a familiar voice cried out behind us.

"It’s him! It’s the young master who saved us!"

I turned. A small group had pushed through the crowd, and at the front was the old man I had rescued on the road, with his gaunt face and bony hands, and now, to my surprise, he was crying. Beside him stood a dozen of the other freed prisoners. They looked washed and fed and half alive again, and when they saw me, several of them dropped to their knees right there in the road.

"Please, don’t," I said quickly, hurrying forward.

"Stand up. I didn’t do anything special."

"You gave us our lives," the old man said, taking my hands in both of his. His fingers were trembling. "We reached the sanctuary last night. We were so afraid you wouldn’t come out of that forest. We prayed for you."

"You prayed for me?" I said. "That’s kind. I hope you included a request for good looks."

A few of them laughed through their tears. The old man shook his head, smiling.

"I never did learn your name, young master."

"Barry."

"Barry," he said, as if tasting it. "I am Old Liu. Whatever you need, whatever this valley can give you, it is yours."

"A bath and a meal would be a good start," I said, and the crowd laughed again, warmer this time.

Beside me, Qing Yan was watching with a small, unreadable smile.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing." She looked away, but her eyes were soft.

They took us to a long, low hall at the center of the village, built of pale timber and roofed with dark tile. Inside, a single large table ran down the middle, already laden with food: steaming rice, boiled vegetables, a whole roasted fish, plates of pickled greens, a bowl of sweet red fruit I didn’t recognize.

I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the smell hit me. Even Lu Chen, who had barely spoken in hours, stared at the table with open longing.