The Stalker leaped at him. It was a blur of obsidian skin and jagged claws. Kai didn't swing the blade; he let the weight of the Nodachi do the work.
He stepped into fall, letting the heavy iron tip drop directly onto the creature's skull as it landed.
The sound of the skull cracking was like a dry branch snapping. The Stalker didn't scream; it simply dissolved into a puddle of black ink.
Kai just wiped the blade on the side of the wagon and sat back down.
Ahead, the trees began to thin. A massive stone wall loomed in the violet distance, illuminated by hundreds of flickering yellow Spark lamps.
The Golden Gate. It was safe, but with Vane waiting there, it was also a cage.
The Dead Woods ended abruptly, as if the rot was afraid to go further. A five-hundred-yard no man's land of scorched earth lay between the tree line and the Golden Gate.
The ground here was white, salted daily by the Church to ensure nothing could burrow beneath the walls.
The Gate itself was a titan of masonry and iron, standing sixty feet tall. It wasn't actually gold; it was bronze reinforced with halo stone, polished until it reflected the flickering yellow light of the Spark lamps like a false sun.
"Look at the size of it," Joram whispered, his voice trembling. "Even the Void Hulks couldn't dent that."
"Walls don't just keep things out," Kai said, leaning heavily against a wagon post. He watched the shadows of soldiers moving along the battlements.
"They are made to keep people in, don't forget that."
The smell changed. The rot was gone, replaced by the scent of incense, and the dry, metallic tang of the salt mines.
A horn blast rang out from the towers; three low, low notes. The massive bronze doors didn't open. Instead, a smaller wicket gate as the base creaked ajar.
A squad of twelve guards marched out, their silver plate armor shimmering.
At the head of the squad was Vane. He had beaten them there. He didn't look tired; his armor was spotless, and his spark mace hung at his hip, pulsing with rhythmic light.
"Halt," Vane commanded. The squad formed a semi-circle around the lead wagon, spears leveled.
"Merchant Elara, you may enter with your goods. Your guards will be processed in the outer barracks."
Vane's eyes shifted to Kai. "The Scourged stays outside. By order of the High Bishop, all unstable embers are to be quarantined during the purple sky transition."
"He is my primary guard!" Elara shouted, jumping down from the wagon. She held up the Service pass Kai had won in the mines.
"He had a signed pass from the Mine Overseer. You can't deny a service holder entry!"
Vane didn't even look at the pass. He walked towards Kai.
"A piece of paper doesn't change the rot in his blood, Merchant. Look at his hand. The void chill is spreading. He is a walking beacon for the Shepherd's kin."
Kai looked at his blue fingernails, then at Miri, who was watching from the wagon's shadows. He could feel the eyes of the soldiers on him; they didn't see a savior or even a man. All they saw was a bomb that was about to go off.
"Vane," Kai said, his voice a low growl. "If I stay out here, the Shepherd finds the girl. Is that the church's order? Leaving children to the crows."
"The girl will be taken to the orphanage of the light," Vane replied coldly. "She will be safe. You, however, are a risk we will not take. Step away from the wagon, or we will be forced to extinguish the threat."
The soldiers stepped forward, the tips of their spears beginning to glow with that sterile, yellow Spark light.
Kai felt Red in his shoulder flare in response; a primal, angry heat that wanted to burn everything in sight.
The tip of the lead soldier's spear touched the center of Kai's chest. The Spark light at the tip hissed as it met the damp leather of his cloak.
Kai stood there weighing whether to fight or not.
"Don't touch me again," Kai said, coldly.
Vane walked forward, his heavy graves clicking on the salted stone.
"Or what, marked one? You are at your limit. Your hand is blue, your breath smells of bitter bark, and you can barely stand. If you flare that Mark here, the salt-saturated air will turn your blood to steam before you can swing that slab of iron."
"Let him through, Vane." Elara stepped forward, pulling a heavy, wax-sealed scroll from her inner pocket. She showed it to Vane.
"This is a lineage bond. My family has supplied the inner walls with salt for four generations. If my primary guard is denied entry, my wagons turn around.
Let's see how long the High Bishop's lamps stay bright without my salt."
Vane's jaw tightened, the Spark mace at his hip flickered, reflecting his irritation. He wasn't just a warrior; he was a politician in armor. He knew that a salt shortage would cause riots in the lower districts.
"Would you risk the safety of the city for a Scourge dog?" Vane asked, his voice dripping with contempt.
"I am risking it for my investment,' Elara countered. "And the girl stays with me. She is my apprentice. Touch her, and the lineage bond is broken."
Vane looked at Kai for a long time. The silence was heavy, broken only by the hum of the Spark Lamps. Finally, he signaled his men to lower their spears.
"Fine, he can enter. But he has to wear the order shackle. If his resonance spikes above the safety limit, the shackle will lock his joints and alert the nearest guard."
"No shackles," Kai growled.
"It's the shackle or the woods, kai," Elara said, her voice low and urgent. "Take the shackle, we just need to get inside. Otherwise, our trip will be in vain. Think of Miri."