Chapter 14: Disciple Tao

They left Gao Ling at dawn. Hao Min walked with his hands in his sleeves, the rust paste hidden against his palms. Sao carried the water and the smaller pouch of clean rust flakes. Zhen had stayed behind. He said he was too old for hills and too stubborn for disciples.

The Rust Road was clearer here. The dirt was orange for long stretches. Stones looked like they had been forgotten for centuries. The trees had red leaves even in summer, and when the wind moved through them they made a sound like old hinges.

"It is getting stronger," Sao said.

"The circle?"

"The road. It feels like it is breathing."

Hao Min felt it too. The warmth in his chest moved differently when they walked this path. It pulsed in time with his steps, as if the ground were remembering him.

They camped the first night in a stand of rust-colored pines. Hao Min drew a Wide Circle around the camp before sleeping. Not for enemies. For animals with blood-touched claws, though he doubted any existed. Still, caution had kept him alive longer than courage.

He slept poorly. In the morning there was a man sitting across the cold fire from him.

The man was young, perhaps twenty. He wore gray robes with ink stains on the cuffs. His hair was tied back with a leather cord. He held a brush in one hand and a small inkstone in the other.

"You are Hao Min," the man said.

"Who are you?"

"Tao. A disciple of the Ink Sect. I have been sent to observe the Rust Road and note any unusual effects."

Sao woke up and reached for her knife. Hao Min shook his head.

"There is nothing unusual here," Hao Min said.

"There is you." Tao looked at Hao Min's hands. "You carry a corrupted Rust Circle."

Hao Min went still. "Corrupted."

"It is not the original. The proportions are wrong. The intent is narrowed. It has been filtered through at least one other mind before yours." Tao dipped his brush in the inkstone and made a note on a small scroll. "Still functional, apparently. That is interesting."

"You are not going to stop me?"

"Why would I? The circle belongs to no one. The sect does not own it. We merely study it." Tao looked up. His eyes were curious and slightly nervous. "May I see?"

Hao Min hesitated. Then he dipped his finger in the rust paste and drew his broken circle on a flat stone.

Tao leaned close. He did not touch it. "This is very wrong," he said.

"It works."

"Many wrong things work. A door hung upside down still keeps out the rain. That does not make it a proper door." Tao made another note. "Your circle only affects metal that has touched blood. Is that correct?"

"Yes."

"And you activate it with rust mixed with blood."

"Yes."

"That is disgusting but elegant. You are using decay as ink." Tao looked at Hao Min with something like respect. "The founder would find you amusing."

"The founder."

"Ti Mo. The man who drew the original circle." Tao's voice dropped, as if naming him required care. "He knows your name now. The sect has been tracking your movements since Rust Ford."

Hao Min felt the warmth in his chest flare. "He knows me."

"He knows of you. There is a difference." Tao rolled up his scroll. "I am supposed to warn you that the Iron Bone Sect has sent riders after you. Eight men. Two officers. They are two days behind me."

"Why warn me?"

"Because you are not our enemy. You are a symptom. And symptoms should be observed, not removed." Tao stood. "Also, I dislike the Iron Bone Sect. They filed our registration forms incorrectly three times."

He walked into the trees and was gone.

Sao stared after him. "That was an Ink Sect disciple?"

"Apparently."

"He is strange."

"All useful people are strange." Hao Min looked at the circle on the stone. It had already faded. "He called it corrupted. I think I prefer that."

"What does it mean?"

"It means I am not copying Ti Mo. I am making something my own." Hao Min stood and shouldered his pack. "Eight riders. We will need a bigger circle."

They collected rust as they walked. Sao proved skilled at finding the best flakes, the ones that crumbled easily and held the memory of old blood. She gathered them into her shirt, tying the corners into a makeshift bag.

"Why does the rust need blood?" she asked.

"I do not know. My circle needs it. Dun's does not. The original probably does not either. It is my particular corruption."

"That is inconvenient."

"It is honest. Blood is what weapons are for. The circle simply reminds them of their purpose." Hao Min looked at the orange dirt. "I think that is why the Rust Circle frightens the sects. Not because it destroys weapons. Because it remembers what weapons mean."

Sao considered this. "You think too much for a soldier."

"I have had five years with little else to do."

They walked faster. The Rust Road carried them south, and the warmth in Hao Min's chest grew stronger with every mile.