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Authors: Gene Doucette
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accepting a holy pig bone in exchange for my head?”
He grinned. “There is a merchant guild in this area that wards off competition by fueling local fears of devils and demons and such. The legend you just ran into was invented by a professional fabulist that rode through this valley a few months back. He dresses like a holy man and delivers inspired performances, convincing most who witness that God is speaking through him.”
“And you have to be in this guild to pass the non-devil test?”
“Yes, because only guild members know the answers to those questions you failed to answer correctly.”
“What are the correct answers?”
“Let me worry about that.”
I finished the other rabbit and put it on a second stick, extended both of them over the fire, and then set about cleaning the knife. It was Hsu’s knife, and it was a really excellent one. I was hoping he wasn’t planning to ask for it back.
“That’s the second time you’ve invited yourself along with me,” I said. “Perhaps I should be blushing.”
“As I said, I have been looking for you for some time.”
“Yes, that was another one of my questions. Who do you suppose I am?”
“I suppose you are Li-Yuan, the eldest of the eight.”
I stared at him for a good long time. “I think you need to hand me back that wine,” I said eventually. “Either you have had too much of it or I have had too little.”
* * *
There are a lot of immortals in mythology. Every god is a de facto immortal already, and I’ve been confused with several different gods over the course of my long history. I actually was one of them, in the sense that the name I went by became one of the names of one of the regional gods. And then the old stories became stories about me, and suddenly I was Dionysos, god of wine and theater and insanity. That was a little unusual, though. Most times what happens is I get directly associated with a regional immortality legend by virtue of being the only person who comes close to the correct description.
Li-Yuan is one of those names. I don’t even know how that one in particular got pinned to me, since the legend involves a Chinese immortal named “Iron Crutch Li” and I don’t walk with a crutch or anything. Likewise, I have nothing in common with this immortal’s life story. Frankly, it’s not the most flattering comparison in the world, but whatever.
It had been a while since anyone had called me by this name, though. I’d traveled the Silk Road a few times and ended up close enough to China to pick up the title, but while I’m not great at keeping track of time, I was very certain this had happened long before Hsu had been born. So either someone was keeping a description of the legendary Li-Yuan alive somewhere—and it was accurate enough that it was possible for Hsu to find me—or something else was going on. I was banking on it being something else.
* * *
“You are too young to associate that name with my face,” I said.
“And you look too young to be the owner of that name.”
“I am also not a Chinaman with a crutch, if you’ll notice.”
“I know. You are not truly the legendary Iron Crutch Li, but I know you to be an immortal man, and right now that is the kind of man I seek.”
I was possibly even less fond of revealing my age in Hsu’s day than I am now, but by the time he’d said this I didn’t see any point in disputing it. If things got out of hand there was a decent chance I could beat him in combat. Maybe fifty-fifty, depending on how many swords he had hidden on him.
“What could I do for you?” I asked. “And why would I?”
“These are both very good questions.”
“Thank you. I put a lot of thought into them.”
“I need you to help me find something I have lost. And in exchange for helping me, I will help you navigate your way through a world that is changing far more quickly than you are prepared for, as today proved. And your rabbits are burning.”
“So they
He grinned. “There is a merchant guild in this area that wards off competition by fueling local fears of devils and demons and such. The legend you just ran into was invented by a professional fabulist that rode through this valley a few months back. He dresses like a holy man and delivers inspired performances, convincing most who witness that God is speaking through him.”
“And you have to be in this guild to pass the non-devil test?”
“Yes, because only guild members know the answers to those questions you failed to answer correctly.”
“What are the correct answers?”
“Let me worry about that.”
I finished the other rabbit and put it on a second stick, extended both of them over the fire, and then set about cleaning the knife. It was Hsu’s knife, and it was a really excellent one. I was hoping he wasn’t planning to ask for it back.
“That’s the second time you’ve invited yourself along with me,” I said. “Perhaps I should be blushing.”
“As I said, I have been looking for you for some time.”
“Yes, that was another one of my questions. Who do you suppose I am?”
“I suppose you are Li-Yuan, the eldest of the eight.”
I stared at him for a good long time. “I think you need to hand me back that wine,” I said eventually. “Either you have had too much of it or I have had too little.”
* * *
There are a lot of immortals in mythology. Every god is a de facto immortal already, and I’ve been confused with several different gods over the course of my long history. I actually was one of them, in the sense that the name I went by became one of the names of one of the regional gods. And then the old stories became stories about me, and suddenly I was Dionysos, god of wine and theater and insanity. That was a little unusual, though. Most times what happens is I get directly associated with a regional immortality legend by virtue of being the only person who comes close to the correct description.
Li-Yuan is one of those names. I don’t even know how that one in particular got pinned to me, since the legend involves a Chinese immortal named “Iron Crutch Li” and I don’t walk with a crutch or anything. Likewise, I have nothing in common with this immortal’s life story. Frankly, it’s not the most flattering comparison in the world, but whatever.
It had been a while since anyone had called me by this name, though. I’d traveled the Silk Road a few times and ended up close enough to China to pick up the title, but while I’m not great at keeping track of time, I was very certain this had happened long before Hsu had been born. So either someone was keeping a description of the legendary Li-Yuan alive somewhere—and it was accurate enough that it was possible for Hsu to find me—or something else was going on. I was banking on it being something else.
* * *
“You are too young to associate that name with my face,” I said.
“And you look too young to be the owner of that name.”
“I am also not a Chinaman with a crutch, if you’ll notice.”
“I know. You are not truly the legendary Iron Crutch Li, but I know you to be an immortal man, and right now that is the kind of man I seek.”
I was possibly even less fond of revealing my age in Hsu’s day than I am now, but by the time he’d said this I didn’t see any point in disputing it. If things got out of hand there was a decent chance I could beat him in combat. Maybe fifty-fifty, depending on how many swords he had hidden on him.
“What could I do for you?” I asked. “And why would I?”
“These are both very good questions.”
“Thank you. I put a lot of thought into them.”
“I need you to help me find something I have lost. And in exchange for helping me, I will help you navigate your way through a world that is changing far more quickly than you are prepared for, as today proved. And your rabbits are burning.”
“So they
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