Chapter 19: The Seven Peaks

The stair up Azure Peak had nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps, and Wuhen had climbed them as a boy of ninety.

He stood at the bottom of them in the morning light with Chenjue beside him and Lan Zhu behind, holding a rice cloth bundle against his chest.

Every step above them was lined with gray-robed disciples.

They stood in rows, ten thousand of them, silent, with their faces turned down toward the demon lord.

A wind off the lake moved their sleeves.

"I can walk it," Wuhen said.

"I know."

"I climbed this at ninety. I climbed it with a broken rib at four hundred," Wuhen said.

"I know you did."

"It would take me a day," Wuhen replied.

"I have a day."

Wuhen looked at the steps for a while.

Then he turned and lifted both arms.

"Carry me," he said.

Chenjue's eyes widened.

"In front of them?"

"In front of all of them. I want them to watch."

Something moved across the demon lord's face, fierce and slow.

He bent, slid one arm behind Wuhen's knees and one around his back, and lifted him against his chest.

Wuhen hooked an arm around his neck.

He felt, through the black cloth, the thump of a heart that was not quite steady.

"Keep your hand there," he said, low.

"Where?"

"On my back. The place you always put it."

The big palm spread between his shoulder blades.

It was warm, and it stayed.

They went up.

Chenjue took the steps at a long easy stride, and the disciples drew back to either side as he came, and not one of them breathed.

Wuhen rode in his arms with his white hair stirring and his head high.

Halfway up, he caught the eye of a girl in the third row.

She looked ten years old, and she was staring at him with her mouth open.

"Good morning," he said.

She squeaked, and bowed so low she nearly fell.

It took the better part of the morning.

At the top, the great court of Azure Peak lay open under the sky, and every elder who had not run was waiting there in a ragged line.

In front of them, on the paving, on his knees with his hands bound in jade chain, was Jiang Wenshan.

Zhu Ao had fetched him from the ridge the night before, and had been very quiet about how.

The Sect Master's beard was singed on one side.

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