Thresholder

There were mountains of audio logs to listen through, both from Cicada Temple and Crystal Lake Temple. The nanites had no proper data storage, and even worse ‘microphones’, but Perry waved off the technical details and told March to go through and catalog all of the conversations according to their participants. He would have also told March to go through and tag all of the conversations, but March still didn’t know the local language, and it was the nature of the second sphere that people often spoke in their own bespoke languages for some occasions, since both could translate for each other.

Thankfully, once a conversation was identified by March, Perry could listen to it on his own, and he handed an earbud over to Maya so she could listen as they walked, sort of a podcast.

Xiyan had stuck around at the temple in the aftermath of Perry’s escape with Maya, and had talked more with the grandmaster. She had absolutely no problem with letting him go through the portal once she won, and offered to tell him all about the other worlds she’d been to, and he had welcomed that over the course of the next few days.

There were a lot of lies in there, and the grandmaster grilled her, but she had no shame, and every now and then, when she was caught in a contradiction, she would just say ‘sorry, I must have misspoke’ or something similar.

Still, Perry thought her continued account of her travels probably had some value, even if it needed to be untwisted. She’d talked about Candyland and never mentioned getting the ability to shoot licorice from her palms. Even with that omission, at least it let him know that worlds with enormous transformative spells were a possibility, one that meant the wide range of worlds he’d heard about was even larger and more wild than he had thought.

Having seen her in action, there were also some answers as to the nature of her powers.

Her ability to make rock from nothing had come from a world with some very classical four elements thing going on, divided up into separate kingdoms that took their elemental gimmicks to the nth degree, each having a dozen different types of magic to it, half a dozen elementals, half-breeds born of those elementals, a variety of gods for each element, and what felt like an intentionally obtuse arrangement of all that. She’d become a battle nun of sorts, having taken another woman’s place, almost assuredly by killing her, and had been granted the ‘rock wake’ power, which paired so well with her ability to control statues that it was almost absurd.

In another world she’d taken the place of a dead woman and found herself working as a spy, the dead woman’s old job. She’d learned the job on the go, aided by her bevy of powers, and ended up a triple agent before the whole thing came crashing down with the arrival of the other thresholder. She claimed not to have gotten any power from that world.

She’d gotten her durability from the world after the one with all the artists, where she was rushed to their version of a hospital when someone found her dying in the street. They didn’t know what to make of her — everyone in that world had enhancements to keep them from suffering too much damage, and they had gone to work adding in those enhancements to her before she even woke up. Their bodies could be destroyed, but they could bounce back from a lot, whether that was getting shot in the chest or being disemboweled. Perry was left wondering whether that was a direct reference to what she’d done to him, which it might have been, given the way she talked about it.

Most of Xiyan’s worlds ended the same way, with a fight, though in two she had simply killed someone while they were defenseless. The reasons for the fighting began to grow monotonous, especially because that was the place where Xiyan seemed most prone to lie — or to say things that felt like lies. She would put on a new face and cozy up to someone, then they would find out she was a thresholder and attempt to murder her. Perry felt certain that it was the other way around, that she exposed herself as a thresholder by trying to get the jump on them, but that was just speculation on his part.

There were exceptions to the pattern, worlds where she was facing someone who went at her with unchecked aggression and no hope of conversation or temporary companionship. And in one of the worlds, Xiyan had found a man who, she claimed, didn’t care whether she was a thresholder. Once she unmasked herself, he proposed marriage. What actually happened, Perry didn’t know, but to hear Xiyan tell it, they had a happy several months together before they were captured by the local government. She escaped only because he killed himself in order to open a portal for her. Perry wasn’t sure how much of that to believe, if any.

In one world, she had been picked up from a field by a brutally powerful twenty-foot tall giant and set up in a tournament which was akin to either Pokemon or cock-fighting. Her counterpart was a woman she only met in the finals. That particular story had taken most of a day to tell, in part because the grandmaster had so many questions about the specifics. It felt too incredible to be true to Perry, but Xiyan didn’t seem like the type to invent an entire world.

In terms of her powers, the recorded sessions revealed the specifics of things that Perry had already known she could do. There was the rock wake, and the ability to move through doors that had been previously marked, and the cloud of fragrant smoke she could vent from her skin like a frightened animal fleeing a predator. Beyond that, there were powers that Perry had been ignorant of, which were freely spoken of to the grandmaster. She had some power over lightning, though not the ability to generate it, which she’d gotten from a world of huge storms and the wooden ships that moved across them. She had a conditional control over water, which worked best when she was wet, which she’d gotten in a frigid world covered with ice where she’d spent most of her time in an underground bunker.

But it was the very last power she’d gotten that Perry paid the most attention to, and seemed like an actual weakness to him: her strength and speed were amplified in moments of dead silence. The quieter she was, the stronger she was, and with her abilities of smoke and shadow, she could soften her footsteps and deliver a killing blow whose whisper-quiet path through the air amplified its efficiency. It was an assassin’s power, and it could be negated by a loud environment.

The ultimate fate of Xiyan was unknown though. She had obviously left the temple to go infiltrate the king’s retinue, but when she’d done that, she had shaken the nanites, probably unintentionally. She seemed to have left Cicada Temple without having a discussion about it with the grandmaster, and if she had returned, the nanites hadn’t picked up any conversation or real sign of her presence.

There was a possibility that she’d left the temple for her own reasons and wasn’t coming back, leaving the grandmaster in the lurch. There was a much stronger possibility that during the time she’d been wearing Bai Yulan’s face, she’d learned about the security leak and then gone back to the grandmaster to let him know they were compromised. This seemed likely to Perry, though he’d been trying to keep the king and his people from knowing too much.

Eventually, the retinue arrived at a field a mile from Cicada Temple. It felt like it had taken a long time, but also as though it was happening too fast. The field was fallow and quite muddy, but no one complained, nor seemed to be thinking about the impact this would have on the battle to come. Maybe the king was thinking that there wouldn’t be a battle, only a discussion.

The king sent a runner to Cicada Temple and then waited, hands folded, saying nothing. Perry wondered whether the runner — one of the second sphere men — had been sent to his death, but the king didn’t seem to consider it an issue.

Grandmaster Sun Quying approached slowly, using his gnarled staff as a walking stick. He wasn’t alone, though the king hadn’t requested that, so perhaps it was to be expected. There were a dozen second spheres, most of them known to Perry, including Sun Baoxi, who was aping his father’s casual air. Surprisingly, there were also nearly twenty first spheres with them, most of them carrying packages wrapped with cloth that immediately drew Perry’s eye. Xiyan was nowhere to be seen, whether wearing her own face or Bai Yulan’s, but for all Perry knew, she could have been anyone among their number. He looked at the smaller women, but there were too many of them, and he thought he’d have a better chance going by scent than sight once they came close enough.

“The former King of the former Grouse Kingdom,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying by way of greeting. “I would say that it is good to meet you, your esteemed highness, but I would not wish to denigrate the rank.” He did not bow, and seemed pleased to be poking the bear.

King Wu Xianlong’s face was set. He had dressed in a different outfit, also all black as his outfits before had been, but this one had designs of a dragon on one side and a tiger on the other, embroidered with exceptional detail in a black that was matte instead of shiny. On someone else, it might have been impressive, but draped over Wu Xianlong Perry couldn’t help but read it as pointless frippery.

“You harbor the fugitive who goes by the name Lu Xiyan,” said Wu Xianlong. “Bring her out at once, and I will spare you the wrath of a mournful father.”

“Hmm,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying. He raised a hand, two fingers outstretched, and extended them at Maya and Perry. “These two have told you of their nature and the battle across the worlds?”

“That battle is of no concern to me,” said Wu Xianlong. “Deliver Lu Xiyan or I will take her by force. I am backed by the celestial mandate in this matter, you know that to be true. She is an assassin, a liar, fetid filth walking in human form, and her life must be brought to an end.”

“She is a treacherous snake,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying. “There is barely a word from her mouth that can be trusted. But I’ve pledged my support to her in the battle between thresholders, in return for certain concessions.” He looked at Perry. “Peregrin, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you have been excommunicated.”

Perry stayed silent.

“You will not give her up without a fight?” asked Wu Xianlong. “A first sphere criminal has bought the protection of a third sphere grandmaster? Have you no regard for the cosmic retribution you bring upon yourself and your house?”

“I am secure in my position,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying. “But I told Lu Xiyan what I will tell you now, that these two are not without guilt of their own, and that this contest should be between equals. If you accept, we will both stand to one side as the thresholders fight, and accept the outcome.”

“I was told that if she wins the fight, Xiyan will slip through a portal to another world,” said Wu Xianlong. “I cannot allow that to happen, will not allow that to happen.”

“I would be compelled to stop you if you laid a hand on her,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying. “But I intend to go through the portal when it appears.” He had the head of his walking stick grasped in both hands.

Perry watched them talk to each other. He had no idea whether this was negotiation or a lead-up to a fight. He still didn’t see Xiyan, and this couldn’t happen without her.

“Then we must, regrettably, fight,” said Wu Xianlong. He stepped into an unfamiliar stance with his feet wide apart, and all the second spheres with him did too.

“You are as much of a fool as everyone has always said,” replied Grandmaster Sun Quying. He grinned slightly. “How long have you been third sphere? Since the fall of your kingdom?”

Wu Xianlong nodded. While the stance was unfamiliar, the motions were well-practiced and the form seemed excellent, at least as far as Perry could tell. He had somewhat expected the king to be a fop with no real fighting skills, and had worried about that as they walked, but at least the king’s feet were properly planted in the muck.

The grandmaster changed his grip on his walking staff, holding it like a cudgel. “I have been third sphere for two centuries. Two centuries of refinement, two centuries of toil, two centuries to plumb the depths of technique and come to the very precipice of the fourth sphere. I have an entire sect which I have developed into a force you are now reckoning with in its prime. Shall we settle this, just the two of us?”

“Very well,” said Wu Xianlong. “You underestimate the celestial will at your peril.”

Perry thought this was a terrible idea, but he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he looked out at the people the grandmaster had brought with him. “March, can you run facial recognition on all these people? See where we’ve seen them before.” It would have been a terrible time for March to fail to mute Perry’s instructions.

The HUD lit up as the grandmaster and the king approached each other, placing small rectangles around each face, marking names where they were known, confidence in each determination, and a few other things. One of them was lit up in red, a woman near the back of their group holding one of the covered packages.

“That’s her?” asked Perry.

“I cannot say, sir,” replied Marchand. “If you believe she is among their number, and has not taken the face of someone from the temple, then that is the most likely candidate.”

Perry frowned and watched the woman. It didn’t look like Xiyan, but that was kind of the point. He was mildly surprised that March had apparently followed the conversation about stealing faces and internalized it well enough to do something with it.

The king and the grandmaster had moved through the muck and gotten within striking distance of each other.

It was the grandmaster who struck first, a probing swing of his staff. The king was unarmed, and stepped easily to the side, as though the mud weren’t there.

“I have no wish to kill you,” said Wu Xianlong. “If you die, the problem of finding Lu Xiyan will become more difficult, and the beating of my heart will not slow until justice is within my grasp.”

The grandmaster swung again, overhand, and Wu Xianlong stepped to the side, dodging it easily.

“Very well,” said Wu Xianlong. He stepped forward, dodged a swipe of the cudgel-staff, then punched the grandmaster in the face.

The toad-like man stumbled backward, a trickle of blood coming out of one nostril, staff planted like a walking stick again, used for support.

“Mmm,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying. “You’re stronger than I had expected. I’d hoped not to need to call on the power around us.” He moved a lazy hand out toward the ground, then twisted it into a sharp claw. Perry couldn’t see the flow of energy, since he was watching through the viewscreen rather, but he could imagine the insects beneath the fecund soil curling up and dying as the grandmaster absorbed their energy. “Much better,” said the grandmaster.

He struck out with the cudgel again, spinning his body around in a full circle. It was so fast that Perry could only barely follow it, and the king was caught off-guard by the sudden burst of power. He brought his forearm up and the head of the cudgel cracked against it, a loud sound that reverberated through the field. His face was contorted in pain, but the expression wiped away in a moment and he shook his arm, as though he was going to negate the damage that had been done that way.

“Yield,” said Grandmaster Sun Quying. “You cannot win this fight.”

“Do not tell me what I cannot do,” said Wu Xianlong.

Perry’s eyes were on the woman that had been marked as Xiyan. There would be two outcomes to this fight, a win for the king or a win for the grandmaster, and either way, Perry would need to act. He couldn’t win a fair fight against the grandmaster, not when the grandmaster knew about guns and had at least theoretical knowledge of how to fight against them.

There was a temptation to start the fight with her now, while the grandmaster was distracted, but Perry didn’t trust March’s assessment, not given how many caveats it came with. Perry and March hadn’t seen everyone in the temple, not even close, and if they’d missed one, that would give a false positive.

Wu Xianlong thrust a hand out behind him, the same energy-drawing pose that Perry had seen plenty of times before, most notably when those from Moon Gate were drawing on the power of the moons — which were bright and full overhead. What the former king was actually drawing power from was unclear, but when he had finished, he rushed forward.

They traded blows, both moving quickly, now seeming to be matched in power, much to Perry’s surprise. The king darting to the side was met by a swing of the staff from the grandmaster, and while the grandmaster had the advantage of reach, the king seemed able to block the blows by taking painful strikes to the center of his limbs. Shaking off the damage seemed to be working, even as the trampled mud rippled with the impacts of the hits. The king wasn’t slowing down, and he got in hits more than once, sometimes by gripping the end of the staff and holding it for a brief moment so he could strike.

“You draw power from the earth,” said the grandmaster as he stepped back. They had circled each other, coming around so that the grandmaster had his back to Perry and all the king’s people. It was so tempting to shoot him in his back, but Perry didn’t know what his reflexes were like, and if he could dodge or deflect a bullet — or move out of the way of the barrel of the gun — then the temporary one-on-one fight would be over. If Perry thought it would work, he’d have done it, cosmic balance be damned, but for the moment, the two men seemed evenly matched.

Behind the king, Worm Gate’s first spheres began unwrapping their packages.

“I trained,” said the king. “I had tutors in my youth, and martial masters during the time of my rule. A strong kingdom comes from a strong king, this is known. The battlefield we fight on was not chosen by chance or circumstance, we walk upon a wellspring of power and step upon the very foundations of my technique.” He reached down, spreading his fingers into the mud. “Fertile soil, rested for months, wet with rainwater.” He lifted his muddy hand and formed it into a fist. “Soil is the foundation of any kingdom, a necessity for bountiful crops, and there is power in mud. My mentor was Tu Yunhai of the Kingdom of Three Hills. I am the Last Initiate to the Secret of Seven Earths. You have not realized who it is you’ve chosen to do battle with.”

Perry could see now that the king had muddied his clothes, with mud sticking to the black pant legs. This must have been done intentionally as they circled around, the kicked up mud not just a part of his circling but a deliberate decision.

For the first time, Perry felt some hope.

The king went hard, moving faster now than he’d moved before. He grabbed the head of the staff as it came in toward him and powered in with his muddy fist, smashing the grandmaster across the face and leaving an imprint of mud there. When the grandmaster tried to rise from one bent knee, the king went for him again, kicking out with a mud-covered foot that caught the grandmaster in the stomach. The grandmaster grunted and barely held onto his staff, then looked up at the king with a grin spread across his face.

The first sphere had unwrapped their packages. Inside were metal pipes. They were lighting the ends of them with coals taken from small metal bowls. The king turned to look at them.

“Get down!” Perry shouted.

Instead, the king squared up. There were ten of the pipes, which had to be crude guns or something like them, built using the instructions that Perry had provided.

“You would send first spheres against me?” asked the king as the fuses burned down. “What cowardice is this?”

“They’re weapons!” yelled Perry. He moved in front of Maya, who was unarmored, and tried to shrink her profile.

The first of the hand-cannons fired, flinging a crude sphere of metal across the field, striking the king directly in the chest in spite of his readiness. The first sphere man who’d been holding the gun fell to the ground, bleeding, either because of the kickback or incomplete firing. The king was still on his feet, but he was bleeding from the gut, which spilled down into the mud.

The other guns went off as a cluster of short, sporadic notes. Of the ten that were prepared, three failed to fire and another two exploded outright in the hands of those who had been carrying them, but that left another four in the air.

Only one of them struck Perry, in his right leg, and it had only a fraction of the force of the cannons that had done so much damage to him in Teaguewater. Maya was safe behind him, protected by the armor as warnings and error messages flared up across the HUD.

There were screams and cries from the wounded on both sides, and after only a beat, the grand melee started.

Perry had his sword drawn and the suit at full power, and he moved to cut down anyone he came across. Because of his speed, he was the first to reach the other side, but he had a specific target in mind, the first sphere woman that March had identified. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, and when the sword came down, the woman turned to smoke.

With a command to March, the shoulder-gun popped up from Perry’s shoulder and immediately began firing, controlled and precise in a way the crude prototype guns hadn’t been. At the same time, music began blaring from the suit, cranked as loud as the external speakers would go in an attempt to deafen her and negate at least a bit of her power — not that the battlefield hadn’t immediately become filled with the din of combat and the screams of the wounded. It was Techno Syndrome, the theme song to Mortal Kombat, playing on a loop.

Xiyan thrust out a hand, nearly getting it chopped off in the process, but the licorice ropes that sprang forth from it covered a few of the cameras and slowed Perry down enough that she could spring away, leaving a marble statue behind her that grabbed for him.

Perry picked the statue up by the throat and threw it at Xiyan as she ran. Rather than dodging, she made another statue in her wake, and the bits of stone crashed into each other, saving her. A cloud of fragrant smoke exploded behind her, but March was ready this time, and switched over the view to show her clearly. She was building up a door again, moving her hand through the air to make the arch in a swift, practiced movement that was almost impressive.

She had been hit by at least five of the bullets, and was bleeding from her chest but not collapsed on the floor like she should have been. Perry dashed through the smokescreen and knocked her against the edifice of stone she’d been constructing, which brought them both down into the mud. The servos that controlled the gun whirred, but just before it could get off a shot at her pinned-down head, a hand grabbed it and ripped it free of its housing.

Perry turned just in time to get hit in the face with the grandmaster’s cudgel. He found himself on the ground, having lost some unknown amount of time, staring at a black screen. With a quick motion he pulled the helmet free, glancing only for a moment at the dent in the metal and the video display that must have cracked itself against his stinging face.

The grandmaster was fighting off the king, who was now caked with mud, and Xiyan had finished building her door. Before Perry could move, she opened it wide, but instead of running, as he feared she would, white statues of her came charging out.

The king was bleeding from the chest wound where he’d taken one of the over-large bullets, and his blood was dripping down to mingle with the mud. Either through some technique he knew or a clever application of power, the mixture of blood and mud was giving rise to small waist-height creatures, but the grandmaster was kicking them away.

The statues charged at Perry. He fought them off, punching through them with the full strength of the armor, shattering rock. March was chirping more warnings from the internal speakers near the neck and from the cast-off helmet, and Perry could tell that it was taking a toll on the armor, so he caught the sword as it flew back to his hand, then used it to carry him high into the sky. So far as he knew, Xiyan had no methods for aerial combat, and for just a moment, he had a view of the whole muddy battlefield.

It was impossible to tell who was winning, but the muddy field was littered with the dead and wounded. Most of the fights were now lopsided.

There was no sign of Maya. She must have left right before the battle, as planned, for a sprint to Cicada Temple. It was risky, but without her needle and her armor, she was at much less than half efficiency.

Perry flew over to where Xiyan was and tried a move he wouldn’t have dared to before coming to this world: he dropped down from up above under the full acceleration of gravity.

She tried to move out of the way, but Perry adjusted his trajectory at the last moment with a tug of the sword. He slammed into her, smoke not saving her this time, and her face twisted into rage as she thrashed against him. His knee was pressed into her stomach and the grandmaster was too far away to save her, still in a furious battle with the king. Perry locked eyes with the grandmaster for just a moment. It wasn’t enough to kill Xiyan, he needed to stop the grandmaster from going through the portal, but it felt like there was enough time to make a final stand.

The grandmaster turned toward Perry as Perry lifted up the sword and pointed it at Xiyan’s chest. She was bloodied and hurting, and her statues were bearing down on them, ready to dog pile him. The world felt like it was frozen for just a moment.

The grandmaster opened his hand and let out a beam of moonlight.

It crashed into Perry’s face, and almost at once, he felt the Wolf Vessel crack open. The energy flowed out from it, spilling into his whole body at the speed of a heartbeat, down the meridians and into the vessels, and it was only from training and meditation that he was able to stall the transformation. He could tell he wouldn’t be able to stop it. All thoughts of the battle were cast to the side as he tried to vent the energy out through his skin. If he transformed while wearing the armor, March would be destroyed, ripped apart from the inside.

With the helmet off, Perry could see the energy, rising like smoke from the armor, but his meridians weren’t wide enough to keep the outflow going, and he was feeling dangerously full, as though he was about to burst.

The grandmaster had turned back to the bleeding, mud-covered king and taken a punch to the face in a process, but he answered it with a swift move using the tip of the walking stick, which struck the king directly in his open wound. With another twist and thrust from the planted staff, the king cried out in pain and anger.

Xiyan turned to smoke again and got out from under Perry, leaving her clothes behind. She was nude and mud-covered, magic dagger in one hand, and as soon as she was free, her statues came for Perry, leaping on top of him. He was knocked in the head as he was trying to stop from turning into the wolf, and he felt something happen inside him. Something inside the tangle of energy pathways slipped, then prolapsed, a bit of spirit squirting out of him.

The pressure was relieved at once, which wasn’t entirely pleasant. In the moment, it was impossible to tell what was actually happening internally, and the statues were on him, pressing down and pulling at his face and hair.

He summoned up his strength and pushed them off, drawing on as much power from the armor as he could, then grabbed his sword as it rose up from the ground and lifted himself up into the air.

King Wu Xianlong had fallen. The walking stick had gone into his guts and extended a foot out his back. The animate mud had gone still and was falling back down into place. Xiyan was looking up at Perry, who was twenty feet in the air, and he didn’t think dropping down on her was going to work twice.

Of the second spheres, Sun Baoxi was one of the only left standing, the others being either badly wounded or dead. He was tending to them, helping his comrades to their feet.

And there was Grandmaster Sun Quying, bloodied and beaten, but still very clearly standing.

All that pain and suffering, and the aid of the king, seemed to have bought them very little. It was hard to tell how wounded everyone was — the grandmaster seemed to be using his walking stick for support and Xiyan was favoring one side, breathing hard. Perry couldn’t take them on alone.

Xiyan had been rendered nude when she’d turned to smoke to slip out from under him, but she took the moment of breath he was offering her to erupt in red and black licorice. It wrapped around her body and hugged her tight, looking like some kind of odd bondage getup, and Perry hoped that it wouldn’t offer her much protection. He still needed to kill her.

The suit had continued blaring music, so loud his ears were hurting.

Perry spotted Maya as a blur of black coming through the woods and dropped down to the ground to give her a chance not to be seen. He had been waiting for her to come back, and didn’t want to spoil the moment. It would have been better if she’d been half a minute sooner, but she’d bounced her way a mile over rough terrain and then back, with a bit of breaking and entering in between.

Maya leapt high into the sky and was framed by the sun. She drew back and threw the needle like a silvery spear at incredible speed. It must have been a technique she’d worked on, because it screamed as it moved through the air and broke bones as it went through Xiyan’s chest. Maya landed from her jump and pulled her needle to her hand, then jumped again to land next to Perry, having twisted around in the air.

“Sorry for the hold up,” said Maya. She was covered in her nanites, her face a glossy black oval once more. She was speaking up, but barely audible over the music. “Oh come on, is she really not dead?”

Xiyan was hunched over and bleeding, and rather than answer, Perry dashed forward and sliced through the air. Xiyan raised her dagger and parried him, but on his second attack he put his full power into it, channeling what energy he could through his wrecked meridians. He cut her dagger in half and she stumbled back.

Perry advanced on her, but stopped as soon as movement from the grandmaster caught his eye. The old man was only getting closer though, and seemed as though he wasn’t about to stop Perry.

“Cut the music,” said Perry.

March cut the music at once.

“You will not kill her?” asked the grandmaster. “But she is beaten? The portal will open then?”

“I’m not letting you through it,” said Perry.

“We’re not letting you through it,” said Maya.

“Do you think you can stop me?” asked Grandmaster Sun Quying. He cocked his head to the side like he was curious how they could be so stupid. It would have been more intimidating if he wasn’t limping.

Maya’s black mask split open for just long enough that she could spit into the mud. “You’re enough of an asshole here. You’d be worse anywhere else.”

The grandmaster spun his staff around, then looked over at his son. “Come. This is the end for them.”

“Why?” asked Sun Baoxi. He moved over to his father and gestured at the wounded and dying. “Why have we done all this? So you can leave the sect behind? So we can be dealt a devastating blow as a temple and face a crisis of leadership?”

“Feh,” said the grandmaster, waving his hand. “The time is now.” He looked down at Xiyan. “Kill her then,” he said to Perry.

Perry leveled his sword at the grandmaster. “No,” he said.

Xiyan slowly climbed to her feet. She was almost literally being held together by ropes of licorice, and her face was stained with blood.

“We’re doing this?” asked Maya. “One less asshole roaming the multiverse?”

“I guess so,” said Perry.