The Meeting Hall felt cavernous, far more so than it normally did. The sect master had not deigned to command a light be set, leaving the two men he had summoned to wait in darkness.

  For a mortal, the blackness would have been oppressive. Not absolute, but near to it. For a core formation cultivator, it was merely quite dark. Elder Lu could have banished the shadows with a gesture, brought forth the gentle glow of unalloyed gold.

  He did not. The snub was as clear an indicator of Ren Yuhan's mood as he'd ever seen.

  Elder Lu knew the great columns surrounding him were wrought of cloudy jade, flecked with brilliant veins of azure, like frozen lightning. A treasure of the sect, and an ever pleasant reminder of the riches of the earth that were a cornerstone of his cultivation.

  In the velvet darkness, they were hard-edged shadows indistinguishable from any lesser stone.

  The sect master's arrival was heralded not by sound, but by light. The dark fled before his silent steps, his unearthly flesh illuminated from within by a gentle azure glow.

  Ren Yuhan took his seat quietly, turning his eyes upon the two standing daoists. The light that poured from him did not reach their feet. Yet, neither man doubted he could see them perfectly, for his eyes shined like the treasures of the mountain.

  "Elder Lu. I was told you had the matter under control." Ren Yuhan said mildly. "Imagine my surprise, when I emerged from my cultivation. Such tales I heard. A talking monkey dueled a noble scion before half the outer sect. It lost, of course. But a remarkable achievement indeed, for a beast that was... How did you put it? As intelligent as a well trained dog?"

  "I have failed you, sect master." Elder Lu bowed his head.

  Daoist Guarding Thunder stood still as stone, waiting for the sect master's attention to fall upon him. He'd done nothing wrong. Yet, he was far from blameless.

  "No. You have failed the sect." Ren Yuhan corrected. "The monkey is one thing. I received a report from Elder Weeping Lotus this morning. Daoist Snowclad Heart is functionally crippled. His cultivation has stabilized at near the midpoint of qi condensation. Elder Weeping Lotus is not optimistic about his prospects of recovery."

  "I have no excuses. I underestimated the depths to which that traitor would stoop."

  "Daoist Scouring Medicine sent his condolences, of course. By letter. He says he would deliver his regrets in person, but his own injuries render him unsuitable for polite society at this time." The Sect Master relayed with dark amusement. "He says he would offer his own aid, in attempting to devise a cure for Daoist Snowclad Heart's injuries. Unfortunately, recent events have left him bereft of the ingredients he expects to need. Apparently, between raising up a disciple and attempting to cure Disciple Zhang's partial petrification, his stores have near run dry. Being a dutiful member of the sect, he of course has not asked for his punishment to be rescinded."

  A vein twitched in Elder Lu's forehead.

  "I did not think, it was possible for a man to be that shameless. I will handle the matter. Personally."

  The sect master raised an eyebrow.

  "Oh? You will fix Daoist Snowclad Heart's blocked meridians? Cure our disciple's wagging tongues?"

  Elder Lu winced.

  "No. But Daoist Scouring Medicine at least, I can see held to account. And prevented from making any further trouble."

  "I thought as much. By all means, mend the fence after the sheep have been lost." Ren Yuhan turned to Daoist Guarding Thunder. "Tell me, what do you have to offer me?"

  Daoist Guarding Thunder flinched, as the weight of the sect master's attention settled upon him. The air around him felt thin, like the heights of a mountain peak. He inclined his head, matching Elder Lu's bow. He'd never truly noticed how irregular the grains of the floor were. He wondered how old these timbers were. Did the patriarch lay them? The sect histories proclaimed this the first building laid down upon the mountain, after the patriarch forged his accord with the mountain lord. The squabbles of their generation felt so small, in the shadow of such history.

  "I underestimated the depth of my fellow daoist's disillusionment and failed to give the sect adequate warning of his treacherous plans. I can only offer my understanding of his character and techniques, in the hopes that my elders can use them to avert further tragedy."

  The pressure upon him abated slightly.

  "Good. You at least understand the nature of your failure. Tell me, what will your old friend do next?"

  Daoist Guarding Thunder shivered. He'd hated this choice when he made it. It felt wrong. Unworthy of the man he wished to be. But every other choice had seemed even worse. He'd called Li Xun a brother, once. But he'd dedicated his life to the Azure Mountain, and it was not the sect that had decided this matter had to end in blood.

  "I believe that he will seek to draw Elder Lu to overstep, and demand legal remedy when he does."

  Elder Lu frowned.

  "You think he seeks a conflict with me? I would crush him before a stick of incense could burn down a finger's width."

  "Explain your reasoning, Daoist Guarding Thunder." Ren Yuhan commanded.

  "Daoist Scouring Medicine cannot be attempting to buy time. He reached the peak of foundation establishment the earliest of the three of us, but the nature of his cultivation method has made advancing to core formation almost impossible. He has been stuck in that realm for fifty years, and he is no sword cultivator to use strife as a whetstone. No daoist in his realm is going to seek a conflict with him after that blatant crippling, not without inducement. By process of elimination, he must be seeking to take advantage of the sect's response."

  "So you think his plan must rely upon challenging a senior."

  "As you said Elder Lu, he would have no chance against you. That suggests to me that his plan relies upon tarring the name of the sect with accusations of tyranny. Perhaps by inducing you to overstep, either by taking action against him directly, or by killing the monkey he has entered into the rolls as a junior."

  "Interesting." Elder Lu said, stroking his wispy beard. "I had considered that myself that the monkey might be bait. But it is easy, and safe, to urge caution when you are not the one who needs accomplish a task."

  "It is not caution I advise. If he seeks an impropriety, do not give him one. He cannot continue crippling his fellow daoists. Once is an accident. But who could be faulted for leaping to lethal force for fear of it becoming a pattern?"

  Ren Yuhan's handsome brow furrowed.

  "And would you volunteer for such a duty?"

  "Of course, sect master."

  "Very well. Thank you for your council, daoist. Leave us."

  Daoist Guarding Thunder's quiet footsteps echoed like his namesake in the velvety silence of the darkened hall. Elder Lu waited patiently, for the sect master to come to a conclusion.

  "I mislike this." Ren Yuhan finally said. "He clearly wants a release from his oaths."

  "Then he should have bought them out, rather than start a fight he cannot hope to win."

  "Perhaps. But I am not opposed to granting him what he wants, so long as the cost of it is sufficiently ruinous."

  Elder Lu's eyes twinkled.

  "I understand. Twelve percent interest perhaps? Even if he begins producing income immediately, a few small misfortunes could easily allow such a sum to snowball beyond the possibility of repayment."

  "Perhaps. So long as it includes a sufficiently public apology. The matter remains yours, Elder Lu. Do not disappoint me, this time. I do not care if you crush him with your own might, or a mountain of debt; so long as the next time I hear his name, it is as a cautionary tale."

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  Orange-crest raised his arm above his head. Up, and down. His shoulder popped gently. The monkey reflexively flinched. No flash of pain followed. He breathed out, a gentle coo of relief.

  Two weeks. It was a long time for one's arm to not work right. To be unable to swing from trees or lift great jugs. He still remembered Yang Wei's blow. The speed and power of it, the way his clenched fist had simply moved through the monkey, as if his flesh were water. His brother's medical magic had fixed the worst of it before he'd even awoken. But Brother Scouring Medicine was running out. There were few more magic pills. No more of the good ones, the ones that fixed great injuries like that in moments.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Even the weaker curatives he was rationing carefully, leaving orange-crest to recover largely on his own. A month ago, orange-crest would have found that unfair. Foolish to hoard magic healing, when one was injured. But his brother's injuries were even slower to heal. If his brother would do without, so would orange-crest.

  The monkey had been bored out of his mind these last two weeks. No staff classes. He couldn't do most of the forms with only one arm. No exploring the mountain. His brother had forbidden that one, until he was healthy enough to flee or defend himself. Less alchemy, his brother produced more steam than the cauldron these days.

  Orange-crest had complied, with minimal complaints. He understood very well just how dangerous it would be to get caught by four disciples with a grudge alone, and down an arm. But he still hated it. All his time was spent reading and eating and thinking and sleeping. He'd learned much, healed much. But being stuck within the house all the time left his skin crawling, irritated as the time he'd caught red-eye's fleas. Nothing was meant to live like this, rotting between bed and scroll. His body and mind might be fed, but the part of him that was him felt like it was slowly dying.

  "I'm going out." He told his brother. The man's face was still red and puffy as a baboon's ass.

  "You are-"

  Orange-crest raised both arms above his head, cutting his brother off. He gave them great big whirls, showing off his mobility. On a whim, he leapt, spinning forward. He landed in a poorly balanced handstand, a trick he'd seen disciples performing before staff class.

  Oh. He couldn't see his brother now, he was facing the wrong way. How did one turn like this? He lifted a hand, and immediately began wobbling dangerously.

  "You can stop showing off. Go, but be careful."

  Orange-crest rolled out of the handstand.

  "No worry. Will be safe."

  "Maybe." His brother said. "Maybe not. But I can't keep you here forever."

  "Yes!"

  Orange-crest swept out the door like a reaping wind. Trailing in his wake was a whole string of sausages, meal enough for two.

  The air outside was brisk, a hair's breadth shy of proper cold. He relished the way the wind combed through his fur, leaving his hair standing on end. He could all but feel the comfortable bed-rot being blown off him. Normally, the dawn of winter was a time for fear. For worries of starvation and theft. And here he was, venturing out to give food to another! How far he had come, through these strange days.

  "This how monkey should be." He grinned toothily, enjoying the ability to talk to himself without his brother listening in. "Houses like wine. Easy to have too much of a good thing."

  Gathering up his sausages into a loop, he loped off into the mountainside. He had a fox to catch, after all.

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  Orange-crest stared into wolf's eyes.

  "Sausage not for you, dumb-dumb."

  The wolf growled, its massive head dipping lower.

  Orange-crest jumped forward, giving a great shout.

  The wolf flinched back in surprise, clearly not expecting such bravery from a beast not a third of its size.

  "Go fuck your mother you mangy flee-bastard!" The monkey continued. "I eat your ass! Come get a lesson from your granddaddy!"

  Truly, the disciples in Big Chang's class were a most fruitful tree of insulting words. Orange-crest felt certain even an 'imperial official', whatever that was, would be impressed by his vocabulary.

  Orange-crest reached up for his armband, withdrawing the dagger his master had given him from the sheath wedged between the jade band and his fur.

  "You said you didn't want another staff. That you would still claim Yang Wei's." His brother had said. "So I got you a chop-chop of your own instead."

  Orange-crest hadn't had words good enough, to answer such a gesture. So instead he'd plied his brother with bowls of porridge until he was set to burst. It was not merely the gift. It was that he remembered, and trusted the monkey's words. Even big-butt sometimes treated orange-crest like a font of empty boasts, to be taken seriously, but not literally. Brother Scouring Medicine had watched him fail, but still believed. That mattered.

  The wolf recovered its courage. It was a mangy thing, its fur rendered patchy by age and poor hunting. In another time, he might have had pity for it. But he had only three seasons to become stronger than any of the young men and women of the sect. This winter was not a season for charity.

  "Bleed, misbegotten thing." The monkey hissed menacingly "You are already half-dead. If you stand in my way, I will make you full-dead, and see if your meat is worthy."

  The wolf leapt, blocking out the sky.

  Orange-crest froze it in place with a gesture. He stepped around to its side, watching as the thin strands of his qi slid over ribs rendered visible by hunger. They danced like sunlight on water, at once fragile and impossibly firm. Hefting the dagger, his arm pumped once, twice. The spell broke on the third stab, the wolf landing in a heap, blood already seeping through into its fur.

  With a pitiful whine, it turned tail and fled. The monkey let it go. How far he had come. Not two seasons ago, he would have had no choice but to vanish up a tree in the face of such a beast. Now, it would require a pair before he even considered taking them seriously.

  He was almost at the cave. Formless-gleam had coveted this place greatly. He knew if he waited long enough, he would find her here.

  "I should have known following that stream of poorly constructed profanity would lead me to a monkey at the end of the path." An elegant voice yipped in the true-tongue.

  Orange-crest smiled.

  "It was not poorly constructed. I learned from men."

  "I might not be able to speak their tongue, but I can still understand it. But if you disagree, please, by all means tell your next human opponent you're going to eat his ass. I want to witness that."

  Orange-crest stared intently at the fox. Formless-gleam scratched her neck with a hind-leg. Too confident. She knew something he didn't. He was missing some nuance with that phrase.

  "I brought good-old-meat-tubes." He said instead.

  "I see that. How very like a man you are, to change the subject rather than admit you might be wrong."

  "You want meat tube or no? I can eat eight meat tubes. Just watch."

  Formless-gleam chuffed.

  "Yes, I want a meat-tube. The houses of cold smoke are always locked, those are some of the hardest delicacies for me to steal."

  Orange-crest plucked a sausage from the sausage-vine and handed it to the fox. They ate together in silence, knowing better than to spoil good food with distraction. Or risk another hungry wolf.

  "You were looking for me." The fox said after they finished. She lay on her side, even more pleasantly stuffed than orange-crest. Four sausages was a lot for such a small creature. Despite her state of satiation, there was an air of watchfulness about her, a sense that with even her eyes half-closed, she was tracking all the things that flew and crawled around them.

  "You were hiding from me." Orange-crest answered.

  "You're not alone as often as you think you are. Your master, or the bald one, sometimes tails you. I will speak to you. I have no interest in speaking to them. Men are only good for being predators, or prey."

  "Hmm." That was nice of the daoists. Rude, but nice.

  "I'm glad you didn't die." The fox added.

  "I'm glad you didn't die." Orange-crest retorted.

  "They never even saw me. I've lived years on this mountain, and even the elders don't know about me. I'm careful enough to never be within a thousand chi of them."

  "You are very stealthy." Orange-crest agreed. "Even more cowardly than sneakiest monkey."

  "I didn't see you complaining when my arts beguiled their archer, and led their pugilist into the arms of that Sun-Swallowing Bear."

  "No." Orange-crest corrected. "Cowardly is good sometimes. Just like bravery good sometimes. Being brave when cowardly is right is just being dumb."

  "I suppose you would know a great deal about that."

  Orange-crest rolled over, leaning to loom over the fox. He feigned measuring her with his hands.

  "You are very small. How do they fit so much meanness in so small a fox?"

  Formless-gleam gave a sad yip.

  "My mother is very good at that. She makes sure all her girls will never lack for venom, before she leaves us to the world's tender mercies."

  Orange-crest didn't know what to say. A monkey would want comfort. A daoist aggrandizement. But he didn't think the fox wanted any of those.

  "Did you find what you sought in the cold cave?" He asked instead.

  "No. Not yet. It's not a bad spot for my cultivation, but I can't access the treasure within it." Formless-gleam rolled over, rising to meet his eyes. "The deeper sections require one to be small, like us. But..."

  The fox snarled.

  "Come. I'll show you."

  Orange-crest followed as Formless-gleam led him down through the underbrush. The monkey kept his ears peeled, but the fox seemed without a care in the world as she navigated a path through the vegetation. Orange-crest watched as her dainty paws pressed through leaf litter without making a sound. Or leaving a track.

  "Are you where you look like you are?" He asked.

  "Noticed that, finally?" The fox's form wavered and flickered, as if underwater. "I'm around. Stop dawdling."

  "I want that." Orange-crest muttered under his breath. She must have been present to eat, but he'd never noticed the moment the fox slipped back under the illusion.

  "I heard that." The breathy chirp came from far too close to his ear. Orange-crest jumped, flailing his arms, catching nothing but air.

  "You laugh now." The monkey muttered. "One day I sneak up on you."

  Formless-gleam led him back toward the entrance of the cave. Her illusion strode past where he'd first met Disciples Hao and Wang, heading for a specific corner of the main chamber. There, just below the little holes that leaked icy qi, was a larger gap in the stone.

  Orange-crest stared with dread as the false-fox vanished into it.

  "No." The monkey said. "You first. Real you. Must poke to be sure."

  "Do you trust me so little?" The fox appeared already halfway through the hole, waiting patiently for the monkey to prod her back leg.

  "No. I don't trust caves. Small spaces are bad."

  "I'm sensing a story."

  "Not drunk enough for that story." Orange-crest shivered at the memory. Being the smallest adult had been the absolute worst. Any time they needed someone to climb into a small space, it was always reliable orange-crest. Gather these mushrooms, orange-crest. Scare out these rodents, orange-crest. He couldn't wait to go home and lord his increased length and girth over quick-fingers.

  As they descended into the dark space far too small for a human, a flat illumination poured out from the fox. Yet another useful technique. After an uncomfortable number of steps deeper into the earth, the tunnel opened into a chamber just large enough for the two animals to shift around without stepping on each other's paws.

  Orange-crest saw the problem immediately. The tunnel rose straight up, vanishing into the inky darkness. It was an moderate climb. For a monkey. But foxes didn't have thumbs. And claws couldn't find purchase on stone that sheer.

  He turned to the fox.

  "Don't."

  "Was going to say I help. Don't help?"

  "Why? Why are you being so helpful."

  "You have something I want. I'll get you to the top. But in exchange, you need to teach me your tricks."

  "They're not just tricks you can master in an afternoon."

  "Daoists say same thing about spells."

  "Don't you have a master?"

  "Have human brother." Orange-crest corrected. "But he is human. Maybe too human. Always think about distant future. Teach me long time things like reading. Need to learn now. Get stronger. Save him from his stupid human problem."

  The fox tilted her head, perplexed.

  "You are strange."

  "Thank you. I try."

  "Really strange. I don't think you understand how strange."

  "I try hard."

  The fox sighed.

  "Fine. Get me up there, and I'll teach you a few rudimentary illusions arts. Ten Thousand Hells, what would my mother say. Teaching her arts to a monkey, and a male one at that."

  "What's wrong with males?"

  "You'll understand when you're older."

  Orange-crest bit back a retort he already knew would be ineffective, turning to leave instead.

  "Come on. Have plan. Have thumbs. Just need supplies."