The Phoenix Ascent: The Fifth Column

  About The Phoenix Ascent

  Centuries before the Fifth Column, an ancient empire discovers the power of the first Phoenix Variant.

  Hordes of the Mongol Empire sweep across Northern Asia, crushing everything in their path. As plague ravages the continent and the heavens burn with meteors, the empire’s greatest general will stop at nothing to possess the first Phoenix.

  And when Kaifeng, the Chinese capital falls, the only thing standing in the path of total domination is one lone alchemist and a rogue assassin.

  The Phoenix Ascent is a free short story. Check out The Phoenix Variant for the full story.

  Contents

  About The Phoenix Ascent

  Kaifeng, Northern China

  About Nathan M Farrugia

  Also by Nathan M Farrugia

  Copyright

  Kaifeng, Northern China

  February 26, 1233

  ‘Your saber looks sharp,’ Zhu said.

  ‘I’m sure you say that to all the royal guards,’ the woman said, holding the saber to his throat.

  She had confronted him while they were alone in his study. He was housed in the royal palace and could summon the royal guard for help. Except she was the royal guard.

  ‘Your elixir,’ she said. ‘Is it here?’

  He looked past her pointed saber and noticed the lamellar armor under her thin robes. Hundreds of laced bronze scales, sharp and angular, like her face.

  ‘I have more than one elixir,’ he said. ‘I’m pretty good, you know. Plague, persuasion, passion, forgetting. And you could … ask without the saber.’

  ‘The saber speeds things up.’ She pressed it against his skin.

  ‘Look, if you’re here for the immortality elixir, I’ll tell you what I tell everyone else: it doesn’t work.’

  Zhu knew that once you were in the crosshairs of the royal guard, your life was over. They were the dynasty’s most formidable intelligence agency, charged with specialized tasks that ranged from subverting revolutionary factions to personally guarding the crimson-robed emperor. Men would disappear for questioning and never return.

  ‘I don’t care for your immortality elixir,’ she said.

  He hadn’t see that one coming. ‘Then what are you here for?’

  His table was covered in notes on rock samples, illuminated by the flame of his bronze oil lamp. His satchel lay next to it. His three elixirs were already secured inside, in the sheaths he’d woven himself so they wouldn’t rattle or break.

  ‘The stone from the sky. The elixir you made from it.’

  ‘The—’

  ‘Phoenix,’ she said.

  ‘What business do you have with it?’

  ‘The capital is under attack. My business is to escort you.’

  He stepped back, bumping the table and the lamp. Shadows leapt on the walls.

  ‘Why do I need to be escorted?’

  ‘Our chancellor is executing the emperor’s loyalists.’

  ‘But that’s everyone. That’s—’

  ‘Us,’ she said.

  In her eyes he saw his dynasty burning. She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and looked away.

  ‘We don’t have much time. It doesn’t take a genius to work out the chancellor is planning a surrender to the Mongol general,’ she said.

  Zhu straightened himself. ‘So you’re … not here to kill me?’

  ‘That’s not the intention, but I can be swayed.’

  She took a step back and checked the hallway behind her.

  He heard the distant clash of swords and fire. A trebuchet punched a hole somewhere in the capital city wall, making him flinch. He tried to hide it but she noticed.

  ‘So, things aren’t looking too good out there. Where precisely are you planning to take me?’ he asked.

  ‘Anywhere but here, precisely. Pack the Phoenix elixir.’

  Zhu reached for his satchel and slung it over one shoulder. The Phoenix elixir was already inside.

  ‘It’s happening, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘The empire is taking the dynasty.’

  ‘Just worry about the elixir.’

  He shook his head. ‘None of it matters anymore.’

  She closed on him, the lamp’s flame glittering in her restless jade eyes.

  ‘Let me make this very clear. The Mongol general isn’t here just for the capital,’ she said, sheathing her saber. ‘He’s here for the Phoenix.’

  ‘But this is just one Phoenix, there are three,’ he said. ‘Each one gives … different abilities. How does he even know—’

  She gripped his arm. ‘We’re leaving now.’

  ‘No,’ he said, surprised by his own resistance. He scooped the pieces of glittering rock into his satchel.

  ‘We don’t have time …’ She stopped when she realized what he was doing. ‘You have pieces of the actual skystone? Here?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve been studying—’

  ‘This is worse than I thought.’ Her attention shifted to his papers on the table. ‘Those drawings.’

  ‘All the different comets and their effects,’ he said. ‘And the—’

  ‘Three Phoenix,’ she said. ‘Yes, I know, stop wasting time.’

  She pulled his drawings from the table, rolled them as one, and shoved them into his hands.

  ‘Everyone is looking for this,’ she said, dragging him out into the hallway, past an armored statue. ‘The Mongol empire, our own emperor, others from distant lands arriving at our ports as we speak. What you know and what you have written. They are converging on you.’

  ‘But how did they hear?’ he said, walking after her.

  The hallway was lined sparingly with bronze lamps shaped as dragons. She paused between two lamps, her face in darkness.

  ‘How do they know? The empire has spies everywhere. One of Ögedei Khan’s greatest generals is mounting an attack here at the capital while you ask me more questions than you need answered. All you need know is: you do not want to be in his path.’

  Zhu had heard stories of the general. He rode into battle, his face hidden beneath a bronze mask that sparked fear in legions of Imperial soldiers. He had conquered and overrun more territory than any other commander in history. His strategies were sophisticated and innovative, and he could coordinate armies five hundred miles apart. In just two days he had orchestrated the invasion and destruction of both the Hungarian kingdom and the Polish lands, a feat that should have been impossible.

  The general was a dangerous tactician who had already conquered most of Zhu’s own country. If this royal guard was telling the truth, then it would fall tonight.

  She continued down the hallway, pulling him with her. Everything about her, from her stride to her grasp on his wrist was crisp and unapologetic. She checked over her shoulder to ensure he was carrying his satchel.

  ‘Your elixir,’ she said. ‘They want it and they won’t stop—’

  ‘I don’t even know if it works!’ Zhu pulled from her grasp, stumbling into a tall ornamental shield held by one of the royal guard statues that lined the hallway. The shield came free and she caught it before it could topple on him.

  ‘Who are you really?’ he said, regaining his balance. ‘Most of the royal guard evacuated three moons ago.’

  ‘With the emperor.’ She nodded. ‘And a handful of prostitutes.’

  ‘Why are you still here?’

  ‘My name is Syà and I have one last order.’

  ‘Who from? And what’s the order, get me killed?’

  ‘To ward off your enemies just as felt cloth protects from the wind.’

  Zhu clutched his satchel. ‘That’s great but I know the tunnels better than most. If I wanted to escape the
capital, why would I need you?’

  The hallway behind them exploded into a crackling fireball. Rubble and flames showered the marble floor. He peered through dark smoke to see Mongol soldiers step through a newly formed hole in the wall, their scimitars and helmets gleaming.

  ‘For that,’ she said.

  ‘How did they do that?’ Zhu said.

  ‘Gunpowder bomb in an iron shell,’ she said.

  Still holding the tall shield, Syà pulled him behind her and drew her saber.

  A dozen soldiers filtered through the hole. They wore conical steel helmets and robes with leather belts, concealing lamellar armor that looked similar to Syà’s.

  The hall was only wide enough for three men abreast. The front three soldiers dropped to a knee as the next row drew arrows in compact bows. He’d heard Mongol archers could hit a bird on the wing.

  Syà crouched, motioning Zhu down with her. The archers fired. Whip arrows hit the shield and exploded with small bursts of gunpowder.

  Zhu watched as Syà leapt into action. With her saber sheathed, she shoved him behind the statue and stepped forward with her shield. Something shot from her hand, it was small and ball-shaped. He peered out from behind the statue to watch it skitter along the floor and bounce off a Mongol soldier’s leather boot. It flashed and exploded, and the hallway filled with thick white smoke.

  Syà kept moving. She turned the shield sideways and used it to mow down the first row of archers, entangling them with the second row. The scimitar-wielding soldiers slashed into her two at a time, but both her hands were free now and she countered their strikes with minimal movement from her saber. From where Zhu hid behind the statue, she didn’t appear to be blocking anything at all. Her saber moved along their curved scimitars, deflecting their attacks so slightly it was almost unnoticeable. The soldiers put such force into their slashes that their momentum carried them forward. Past Syà and her saber. She ran it smoothly across their necks.

  Zhu eyed the other end of the hall and considered making a run for it. Then an arrow bounced off the statue. He reconsidered. Perhaps it was best to stay behind the statue where he wouldn’t die.

  From his hiding spot, he watched the archers retreat, their hands reaching for fresh arrows from their quivers. Syà never stopped moving. Zhu had not seen a royal guard fight like she did. Where was she from?

  Arrows missed Syà as she zigzagged, some striking the backs of other Mongol soldiers as Syà sent unsteady soldiers stumbling and bleeding into their path. As accurate as the archers were, they seemed unable to anticipate her movement. Zhu watched as the archers killed more of their own soldiers.

  Syà moved between them, her black boots smearing their blood across the tiled floor. She skewered two archers before they could draw their curved daggers. Syà kept close to them, moving around and behind them. She used their lightly armored bodies for shields as she weaved her saber across necks and limbs, bleeding them with a precision that shook Zhu’s already trembling body.

  When Syà was finished and they were bleeding to their deaths, she plucked a bow and quiver, then moved hurriedly back to Zhu.

  ‘How …?’ he breathed.

  Syà grasped a ball-shaped object, another one of those gunpowder bombs. She crushed it in her hand and threw it over the crumpled soldiers. It bounced near the hole in the wall just as another wave stepped through, then it flashed and crackled down the hall, blinding fresh soldiers and choking them with smoke.

  Zhu flinched. ‘What is that?’

  ‘Blinding powder bomb,’ she said.

  ‘I hope you have more of those,’ he said. ‘A lot more.’

  He clenched his fists to force himself to stop shaking. He needed to be in control if he was going to get out of here. Syà slung the quiver over his head and shoulder, then shoved the bow into his hands.

  ‘Have you ever used a bow?’

  ‘I had instruction once.’ He adjusted the strap.

  ‘How much?’

  ‘An hour, perhaps two.’

  Syà glanced over his shoulder, her eyes on the blinded soldiers.

  ‘And … now we’re moving,’ she said.

  This time, he didn’t protest. He ran as fast as he could manage with the satchel across one hip and the bow in one hand. He was able to keep pace with the woman of unknown origin as she negotiated the hallway to the kitchen and outside the palace.

  She seemed to be leading him into the rear of the palace and the Imperial Garden. It was normally peaceful under the moonlight, but tonight was an exception. The garden was occupied with Mongol soldiers wielding lances, axes and scimitars as they charged from the Meridian Gate in heavy rows and punched through the light perimeter of Imperial soldiers. High above, the night sky burned bright with a legion of meteors.

  ‘The heavens burn,’ he whispered.

  ‘Not tonight.’ She pulled him forward. ‘Stay close. We’re going for that building on the other side.’

  Zhu spotted the building’s multi-tiered roof across the garden. He held his bow tighter as Syà circled a group of Mongol and Imperial soldiers. Around him was the ringing of metal, the roar of fire, meteor fragments crashing in the distance and people screaming.

  He checked his sides and realized Syà was already well ahead of him. He started into a run, only to see a heavily armored Mongol soldier launch himself over a hedge and land before him. He rolled an axe between both hands and closed on Zhu. Blood darkened the soldier’s wrinkled face.

  Zhu drew his bow, but he wasn’t quick enough.

  The axe came in low, glinting under a scolding meteor.

  Syà stepped behind the soldier. Her saber raked his legs then sliced through his neck, the tip of the saber pointed through at Zhu. She withdrew it and the soldier toppled, disappearing into the hedge.

  ‘Run!’ she yelled. ‘The building!’

  Zhu’s hands shook. He used the energy to push off both heels and run. He ran past Syà. Past the Mongol soldiers. He wasn’t going to fall behind again.

  His labored breathing drowned out the sounds of the burning sky and garden. The building was close. He knew there was a tunnel that led from the inner city to the outer city and through the outer walls. But it had been sealed months ago. He was following a suspicious royal guard through a battlefield to a tunnel he wasn’t even sure they could pass through.

  He reached the building with ragged breath and sprinted through the courtyard. Finally in the shadows, he pressed his body hard against the front wall. He scanned the courtyard and saw no sign of Syà. He’d run so fast through the garden that he’d lost her completely. What if she hadn’t made it? His stomach folded at the thought. He needed her help to escape.

  He rubbed his eyes and scanned the chaos in the garden for Syà. The Mongol soldiers surged through every entrance to the capital city. The rear of the city seemed to be their favored point of assault, catching those who attempted escape. So much for the surrender, he thought.

  He saw Syà. The blade of her saber glimmered between the blood of Mongol soldiers. Her movements were economical. The way she wielded her saber was light and precise. She ran nimbly towards him.

  Arrows scythed across the garden. Zhu watched as one arrow caught her arm and then a moment later another struck her leg. She made it to the courtyard and stumbled. He dropped his bow and ran to help her. He pulled her bleeding body back into his hiding place, swathed in the shadows.

  ‘I’ll get you inside,’ he gasped.

  She found Zhu’s bow on the ground beside her.

  ‘Arrow,’ she whispered. ‘Now.’

  He didn’t argue. He took an arrow from his quiver and handed it to her. She drew it with a trembling arm. She screamed silently and the arrow fell from her hand. She turned to him, grasped his collar with her uninjured hand and pulled him close.

  ‘The archer,’ she said. ‘You need to kill him, or we’re both dead.’

  ‘Do you have another one of those blinding powder bombs?’

  She shook her head
. ‘I used them all.’

  Blood ran from the arrows embedded in her arm and leg. Teeth clenched, she grasped the arrow with her working hand.

  He swallowed, took her bow and searched the darkness. He’d never aimed an arrow at someone before, especially not a moving someone.

  There was a shift in the shadows ahead. The archer was stalking them through the trees, trying to find their hiding spot. Zhu saw light reflect off the horned edge of the man’s bow.

  The archer slipped into the courtyard and into the shadows with them. Soon the archer’s eyes would adjust to the darkness and he would find Zhu crouched there with Syà lying by his side. Zhu carefully took another arrow from his quiver and drew his bow. The arrow had an unusually large arrowhead that rolled over his knuckle. He adjusted it and drew again.

  ‘Deep breaths,’ Syà whispered.

  Her hand touched his, steadying his grip.

  He inhaled deeply and let it escape. Slowly. Tracking the approaching silhouette, he found his aim. A fiery blaze crashed down into the center of the garden. For a fragment of a second, it lit the garden brilliantly.

  He saw the archer.

  The archer saw him, and shifted his aim.

  Zhu released the arrow.

  The arrow struck the archer. Along with its small payload of gunpowder. It exploded across his face with a satisfying pop and he slumped to the ground. Zhu didn’t hear him fall. It was so sudden and quick he wasn’t sure any of it actually happened.

  He scanned the courtyard, his pulse overpowering all other sounds. There was no one else. They were safe in shadow.

  He looked down to see Syà pry an arrow from her leg. Her silk undergarment had stretched without tearing to cover the arrowhead as it penetrated her skin. She removed the barbed arrow cleanly and wrapped a ribbon of cloth over the wound. Zhu realized she’d already done the same with the arrow in her arm, forcing her to swap her saber to her left hand.

  The Imperial Garden looked empty now.

  ‘The meteor fragment,’ he said. ‘It drove the Mongol soldiers into retreat.’

  ‘No.’ Syà shook her head. ‘It’s a feigned retreat. One of their most effective tactics. They’ll lure the soldiers out of the gate. Then they’ll rush in from both rear quarters, cut off their retreat and eliminate them.’