Chapter 89 — The Good Man and the Wild Dog
The Sword Questions the Heavens · Page 3 of 6
At dusk, the rain suddenly stopped short, just like that. A moment before, the sky had been dark and heavy as though it meant to rain until the end of the world; the next, the clouds had parted and the mist scattered—was this, perhaps, weather peculiar to the Dead Marsh?
Xiao Wan let out a long breath, closed the umbrella, and looked up at the sky. Though it was the dim hour of dusk, after the heavy rain the mist had withdrawn somewhat, and the sky seemed a shade brighter than it had been by day.
Even those rotting smells in the air had, for the moment, vanished.
Xiao Wan turned and looked toward the small tree, and sure enough Zhou Yixuan and the Daoist Wild Wolf were still sitting there. Earlier, when the wind and rain were fierce, the two had still been arguing loudly; but now, having weathered the storm, they clearly had no spirit left. Both limply lowered the garments they had held over their heads, and with a loud splash water poured down from the cloth like a cataract.
Xiao Wan smiled faintly, turned around, and set Xiao Hui down. Xiao Hui landed on the ground, gave two hops, then shook its whole body, sending droplets flying in every direction—even Xiao Wan could not dodge in time.
Xiao Wan laughed and scolded it, then noticed a patch of water weeds not far off that looked like a small pond. She walked over, found a spot where the weeds were sparser, and looked down.
The pond was thick with water weeds; even here, where the surface was a little more open, it seemed to reflect a deep, clear emerald hue, and she could not tell how deep the pond might be. Xiao Wan gazed at the water, at her own reflection in it, and slowly set her appearance to rights, gathering back strand by strand the hair the wind and rain had disordered—only her clothes, after all, were soaked through and clinging to her body, and it was most uncomfortable.
Some distance behind them, Zhou Yixuan and the Wild Dog seemed to have started bickering again, though their voices were too low to make out clearly. All around them, moreover, had suddenly fallen silent; after the endless wind and rain, the hush now felt almost unnatural.
Even the sound of a glistening drop of water slipping quietly down a green leaf vein on the waterweed nearby and plopping into the pond seemed strangely loud.
Xiaowan could not help drawing a deep breath of the faintly sweet air that lingered after the rain.
Suddenly, behind her, little Grey—who had been quiet all along—let out a sharp, agitated series of squeaks.
Xiaowan jumped in fright, and opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, but the words died in her throat. There, in the pond before her, deep within the dense waterweeds ahead, a pair of eyes—more than twice the size of any ordinary person's—was fixed upon her.
Xiaowan let out a cry of alarm. Far off, Zhou Yixuan and the Wild Dog Daoist were both badly startled, but before they could react, the surface of the pond before Xiaowan suddenly erupted, and a thick column of water burst roaring upward, hurtling straight at her.
Grey shrieked at the top of its voice!
Xiaowan's face went white as a sheet, but her wits did not desert her. In her panic she instinctively took a step back, tucking her left hand against her chest—and quick as a blink, just as the water column was about to strike her, a ring of orange light shot out from her left hand and formed a luminous screen that blocked it for a moment.
The thick column of water struck that orange screen head-on and halted in midair at once, unable to advance another inch. At the same moment a hoarse, muffled cry came from within the column; the waters swayed in the air, and amid the white spray a black shadow appeared, clearly meaning to fall back into the pond.