Chapter Eighty-Three
"No!" Syaoran shrieked, his voice cracking as the farmer tumbled over the edge. The man's hand snaked out automatically, seeking help. Syaoran lunged forward, reaching for the man's wrist, praying his supernatural strength would be enough to keep the farmer from falling.
Seishirou snatched the hood of his shirt and yanked him back. The farmer's hand closed around thin air. His face went still. Syaoran watched in horror as the man fell backwards, limbs spreading out as his thin body careened through the air. He didn't even scream as he disappeared into the Mist.
A deep thud echoed through the canyon when the farmer hit the ground.
Syaoran rounded on his teacher, shocked exclamations exploding from his lips without filtering through the censor of his mind. "What the fuck did you just do? H-he just—You—How could you do something so—"
"If I'd let him live, he'd be running up the canyon shouting 'vampire' to anyone with ears. Do you want that?"
"You didn't have to kill him! You just threw him off the steps like it was nothing and . . . and . . . He's dead, don't you understand that?"
Seishirou's voice was calm. "Yes, Little Wolf. I understand death. I wouldn't be here if I didn't understand death."
He looked down. "Fine. But I don't have to."
Shock flitted across Seishirou's face. "Don't have to what?"
"To be here. With you. I may not be able to stop you, but I won't help you anymore. You can save Fuuma yourself." He started back up the stairs, trying to ignore the nausea churning in his stomach. A hand clamped down on his shoulder.
"You're not leaving."
"I am." He tried to shrug the hand off, but Seishirou had a good grip, and supernatural strength to back it up.
Syaoran shivered, as if someone had taken the tip of a feather and brushed it along his spine. "Let go!"
"You're not leaving, Little Wolf. Not when I'm so close to my goal."
Syaoran half-turned, and noticed how his teacher had laid Fuuma against the canyon wall. "I am leaving, and you're not going to stop me. I'm going back to my friends, and when I find them . . ."
"They'll do what? Track me down? Capture me? Bring me back to you so you can kill me yourself?"
The question brought him up short. What would the others do about it? And what would he do about it, if they did bring him back?
"Or are you too craven to kill me yourself? You'd rather have the ninja do it, perhaps?"
"His name is Kurogane-san," Syaoran growled, the only form of protest he could think of.
"Regardless, you will not rejoin them until we're done with this."
"You gave me a choice," he retorted. "In Infinity, you gave me the choice to come with you. At my request, you didn't harm any of them, and you didn't pressure me to decide. So why is it so important now that I'm at your side?"
"Because my brother is dying!" Seishirou exploded. "And you would do nothing less for your princess if she were in the same position."
"I wouldn't push someone to their death."
"You killed the ringmaster of that circus without a second thought. Why should someone who was in your way be any different?"
Syaoran recoiled. "He deserved to die. But this—"
"You and I are the same, Syaoran. Driven, relentless, stubborn. We have magic. We're vampires. We each have only one working eye. We are more alike than you will ever know."
"I am nothing like you."
There was a flash of movement in his peripheral vision, and suddenly, he felt his knee smash into the stone steps. Something pinned his arms behind his back, while something else wrapped tight around his throat, like a piece of cloth wound up until it was as thin and sturdy as rope. Syaoran struggled to breathe.
"You had a choice then," Seishirou whispered. "And you could have run away from me like you did from your so-called friends. But the simple fact, Little Wolf, is that you don't have a choice anymore. I can kill you just as easily as I killed the farmer, and if you betray me now, I will."
Seishirou held him down, as gray dots swarmed his field of vision. The cloth around his throat had forced his windpipe shut, cutting off any incoming oxygen. If the Mist hadn't already obscured everything in sight, Syaoran might've wondered why he couldn't see more than a few feet away.
The cloth rope was suddenly removed, and he gasped in a lungful of air. Tears ran in rivers down his cheeks. He made no move to stand.
"We don't have much farther to go," said the bespectacled man. "It would be better if you just go along with it."
Slowly, shakily, Syaoran got to his feet. His neck ached fiercely, and his eyes stung with the deluge of saltwater. Seishirou gave him a few moments to gain his bearings, then gestured for him to continue down the stairs.
The rest of their passage crept by uneasily. If there had ever been any reason or routine to their journey, this last argument had shattered it. Though Syaoran never looked back for confirmation, he could feel the dark-haired man's gaze crawling across the back of his neck, waiting for the moment he might turn to fight.
A futile fight, he reminded himself, ignoring the temptation. Even now, Seishirou is far more skilled in close combat than I am. Skilled enough to fight Kurogane-san to a draw . . . No, I would die if I tried to fight him.
His legs carried him to the bottom of the stairs. He breathed a sigh of relief when the ground leveled out, then recoiled when his foot came down on something squishy. "Ugh."
Syaoran glanced up at Seishirou, looking for some signal to continue. The man stared at the wall, seeming disinterested in the condition of the floor. I hope he slips and cracks his skull open, Syaoran thought, moving across the carpet of moss.
Seishirou didn't slip. Instead, he spoke. "See where the canyon narrows? We're going that way."
He kept walking, not bothering to respond to the command. If he was reading the man correctly, he'd gone from a student to a prisoner.
"Interesting," Seishirou said suddenly.
"What?"
The man smiled. "You'll find out when we get there."
Yes, heaven forbid you tell me anything important. He kept walking, scanning every shadow for potential threats. But despite the monster that had attacked them on the steps, this part of the canyon seemed devoid of life, as if someone had exterminated the creatures that had attacked them higher up.
The passage opened up suddenly, into a massive, circular chamber. Unlike the rest of the canyon, though, this room overflowed with architectural marvels—pedestals carved of stone, some radiating light like the moss at his feet. Patterns and pictures were etched into the walls, telling stories he could've spent weeks piecing together if he'd had time. But none of that mattered, because there were people in this room.
"It would seem your friends are here, after all," Seishirou said, setting Fuuma on a carpet of moss. At his voice, everyone turned to them. Sakura, Fai, Kurogane . . . Even Mokona peeked out of Fai's shirt to look.
Syaoran took half a step forward. A hand coiled around his arm, just below the shoulder, and pulled him back. "Stay here, Little Wolf."
"Hey!" Kurogane yelled across the expanse. His voice seemed unnaturally loud in the silence.
"It's a pleasure to see you again," Seishirou responded, stepping in front of Syaoran. For a moment, he considered summoning his sword and driving it through the dark-haired man's back. But a warning glance froze him in place.
"You always run off before we finish our fights," Kurogane said, resting the dull side of Souhi's blade on his shoulder. The posture seemed relaxed, but Syaoran knew just how fast that could change.
"I apologize, but I simply don't have time to waste fighting someone like you."
"Yeah? Why's that?"
Seishirou smiled. "I've got more important priorities. Now, would you mind stepping away from that pedestal? I need what's inside."
The ninja shifted into a fighting stance. "There's only one person I take orders from, and it's not you."
"What a pity." Threads of darkness twisted around Seishirou's hands, wrapping around themselves and taking shape. A moment later, he held a sword. "I'm afraid we'll have to finish our fight for real this time."
Syaoran tensed. "Wait. We can settle this another way."
Seishirou threw him a sly smile. "No."
And that was when all hell broke loose.