Chapter 9: Whispers of the Crow
The road from Hollow Bend stretched west under a sky heavy with storm clouds, a bruised expanse that swallowed the sun by midday. Kade Shen walked with the reforged saber at his hip, its steel humming faintly with every step—a rhythm he’d begun to feel in his bones after Wei’s relentless drills. Two days since the smithy, two days of swinging that blade until his arms burned and the air parted clean, and now it felt like an extension of him, sharp and sure. Lila Mei strode beside him, her limp fading but her duster still stained with the gulch’s blood, her sticks tapping a restless beat against her thigh. The map from the Red Talon riders guided them—a crude sketch pointing to a camp deep in the peaks—but the silence between them hung thicker than the clouds.
She’d dodged his questions about Vane and Starfall, her clipped “later” from the smithy echoing in his head. Kade let it simmer, his focus split between the trail and the shadow of her secrets. The gulch had bound them—her blood for his fight—but trust was a blade yet to be forged. For now, they moved as one, the peaks rising jagged ahead, Red Talon’s territory creeping closer with every mile.
The road dipped into a shallow valley, its edges fringed with twisted pines and boulders worn smooth by wind. Dust swirled in lazy eddies, the air sharp with the bite of coming rain. Kade’s hand rested on the saber’s hilt, a habit now, when a shadow flickered on the ridge above—a silhouette, lean and still, watching them. He froze, nudging Lila. “Up there.”
She squinted, sticks pausing. “One man. No horse. Not Red Talon—they don’t scout solo.”
The figure moved, descending the slope with a grace that belied the uneven ground, cloaked in a tattered coat that flapped like wings. As he neared, details sharpened: a man, older than Kade but not by much, his face half-hidden under a wide hat, dark hair streaked with gray spilling loose. A curved blade hung at his side—not a saber, but something shorter, wickedly sharp—and his eyes gleamed, black and piercing, like a bird’s. He stopped ten yards off, hands loose, voice low and rough as gravel.
“You’re loud, Shen,” he said, tilting his head. “Trail’s buzzing with your name.”
Kade’s grip tightened on the saber. “Who the hell are you?”
“Call me the Crow,” the man replied, a faint smirk tugging his lips. “Heard you took down Iron Hand. Messy, but impressive. Vane’s dogs are barking about it.”
Lila stepped forward, sticks ready. “You’re no friend of theirs. What’s your game?”
The Crow’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Kade. “No friend, no foe. Just a wanderer who sees more than most.” He pulled a folded paper from his coat—a map, older and finer than theirs, its edges frayed—and tossed it at Kade’s feet. “You’re chasing Vane. That’ll get you closer. But he’s chasing something too—a relic, tied to your blade.”
Kade snatched the map, unfolding it. Lines spiderwebbed across faded ink, marking a path through the peaks to a circled ruin—a temple, maybe, labeled in a script he couldn’t read. “Starfall?” he asked, voice hard.
The Crow nodded. “What’s left of it. Vane’s after an orb—old Starfall power, buried there. Thinks it’ll make him untouchable. Your pa knew it, Shen. Kept it from him.”
Kade’s chest tightened, Wei’s words crashing back—Vane hunts relics, power. “How do you know my pa?”
“Saw him,” the Crow said, stepping closer, his coat rustling. “Years back, near the borderlands. Jian Shen fought like a storm—saved a caravan from Vane’s blades. Carried that saber, same as you. I was there, scavenging the wreckage. He let me live.” His smirk faded. “Vane don’t forget a slight like that.”
Lila’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re just handing this out? Why?”
“Balance,” the Crow said, shrugging. “Vane tips it too far—greed, blood, chaos. Someone’s gotta pull it back. You’re the spark, Shen—or the fool who lights the fire.” He turned, glancing at the sky as thunder rumbled. “Storm’s coming. Get to that ruin before he does, or he’ll wield what your pa died to hide.”
Kade’s hand clenched the map, the saber’s hilt warm under his palm. “If this is a trap—”
“It ain’t,” the Crow cut in, already walking away. “But it’s your grave if you’re slow.” He paused, half-turning. “Watch her, too.” He nodded at Lila, voice dropping. “She’s got her own shadows.”
Lila stiffened, sticks twitching, but the Crow was gone—slipping into the pines as rain began to fall, fat drops splattering the dirt. Kade stared after him, then at the map, its ink blurring under the wet. “What the hell was that?”
“Trouble,” Lila muttered, pulling her hat low. “Or a lead. Crow’s a ghost—heard whispers about him. Drifts the frontier, sticks his nose where it don’t belong.”
“He knew my pa,” Kade said, folding the map into his pack. “Knew Vane’s after this… orb. You believe him?”
She hesitated, rain streaking her face. “Maybe. Vane’s greedy enough. But relics? Sounds like Wei’s fairy tales.” Her tone was sharp, deflecting, and Kade caught it again—that edge she’d carried since the forge.
“You’re still holding out,” he said, stepping closer, rain drumming on his shoulders. “He said watch you. What’s he mean?”
Lila’s jaw tightened, water dripping from her hat. “Means he’s a meddler. I’ve got no love for Vane—that’s all you need.”
“Not good enough,” Kade snapped, the Crow’s warning stoking his heat. “You bleed for me, I fight for you—but I’m blind if you’re hiding something. Spill it, Lila.”
She glared, rain pooling in the scar on her cheek, then sighed, sharp and short. “Later, Shen. When we’re not drowning. Move—we’ve got a ruin to chase.”
Kade held her gaze, frustration boiling, but the storm pressed in—wind howling, thunder cracking. He relented, nodding curtly. “This ain’t done.”
“Never is,” she muttered, turning west.
They marched on, the valley fading into a blur of rain and shadow, the Crow’s map a weight in Kade’s pack. The saber swung at his side, its Starfall steel a tether to a past he barely grasped—Jian’s fight, Vane’s grudge, an orb that could shift it all. The Crow’s words gnawed at him—you’re the spark—and Lila’s silence gnawed deeper. Red Talon was out there, Vane closing on his prize, and Kade felt the edge of something vast, a storm bigger than the one overhead.
Lightning split the sky as they climbed into the peaks, the ruin waiting, and with it, answers—or a grave.