Chapter 33: Support
Hong Xin entered the Spirit Temple’s hallowed halls in broad daylight. Or she would have, if it wasn’t night. She, the new servant girl, was welcomed by the steward and shown to her room where she would rest before reporting in the morning. After a few quick assurances and a dousing spell to soothe his worries, she was left in a small stone room, where she took out a small kit of paint and powder.
A few careful strokes below her eyes made her look sleep deprived and sallow. Some pale powder gave her a sickly aura, while a few other well-placed runes changed the rest of her features to that of a man, whose hair was tied in a top knot with a bone clasp. She then touched her simple clothes, transforming them into acolyte robes. A cursory inspection in the mirror assured her that she’d done her job well.
She opened the door and walked out with the confidence of an acolyte. She held her head high but bowed it whenever she passed by any priests. No one recognized her, of course, but neither did they see her as a stranger. Her powerful glamour caused them to recall her as a familiar thrall, no one worthy of attention.
The Spirit Temple was built like a large stone labyrinth; some even said lesser acolytes could get lost if they wandered in too deep. Fortunately, her information had been supplemented by many insiders. She knew the layout by heart, and before long, she arrived at a long hallway where only important members were allowed.
High priests were too difficult to imitate, so Hong Xin activated the power of her brooch. Dark runes spread out from the mauve artifact that shrouded her in darkness that even the magical torches in the hallway couldn’t illuminate.
One step at a time, she thought, making her way along a secret path not many men or women knew. Her feet avoided key stones and stepped on the ones that allowed safe passage. Her surroundings shifted as she passed one magical obstacle after another. She soon reached the halfway point.
Suddenly, she heard a shifting sound. A tall man in dark robes walked toward her while muttering something dark and incomprehensible. His feet fell on all the right spots by instinct as he read a book he held close to his nose. She froze when she realized what he was—a medium. Priests were one thing, but mediums were especially troublesome due to their sensing capabilities. If he got within a few feet of her, her cover might be blown.
She bit her lip as he continued walking, and soon it was clear that he wouldn’t alter his path. Gritting her teeth, she reached out with her soul and qi. She felt at his heart, probing it for worries and doubts, anything she could work with. Her icy powers dulled his perception as she worked, and finally, she found something—he’d forgotten one of his books. She could work with that.
She urged the flames in her heart to kindle that feeling. His steps faltered, then paused. He hesitated, then turned back toward the room he’d just left. It was now or never. Hong Xin sprang from stone to stone, using the darkness around her to leap through the veritable maze of magical traps. She passed the man just as he entered the room, causing him to look back briefly in confusion.
You didn’t notice a thing, she thought as she doused his suspicions. She was just a feeling, and nothing more.
Breathing in deeply, Hong Xin walked down the rest of the hallway until she reached a large door that led to the main altar. She ignored it and chose to enter the door on the left where offerings were prepared. It would still be a few hours before they began the ceremony that caused the resentful souls to feed on each other, resulting in an influx of evil spirits for the temple. Most people in the kingdom didn’t know this dark secret, but she did. Her captives had told her everything eagerly as they pleaded for swift death.
Hong Xin summoned a golden key as she approached the locked door. She inserted the expensive artifact into the door’s formation and deactivated it. The door creaked open, revealing a warmly lit area filled with perfume, religious artifacts, and what she was looking for: seven black-and-red urns waiting to be emptied.
She stepped forward to retrieve the urns, but as she did, her sixth sense warned her. She paused and looked around but saw nothing. Confused, she took out a patch of red dust and blew it into the room. It scattered throughout every cubic foot of air, confirming that no spirits had been stationed here on short notice.
Sighing in relief, Hong Xin stowed the urns. Something seemed to latch on to her, but as she batted at it, she found nothing.
Strange, she thought. It must be my imagination. She double-checked the room for traps and, finding none, she left it. She then walked over to a wall and pressed her finger on three separate spots, pouring qi and resplendent force into them. The stone sank into the wall, and the wall opened. She jumped through the secret entrance and closed it behind her before running through the stone tunnel at a brisk pace.
A gust of fresh air welcomed Hong Xin as she emerged from the catacombs. Her red robes were soaked in sweat, and her gaze was wary. Everything had gone smoothly, and she should be happy. Yet something seemed wrong.
Despite the shadows covering her, she felt followed. The feeling had only intensified in the catacombs. Now that she was out in the open, the sensation was more vivid. Just to be sure, she took out a pouch and retrieved a pinch of red dust. She scattered it around her as she probed with her resplendent force. A leaf fell
