The Yu Dragon

by Aiki Flinthart

  Before she could move, Jade found herself pinioned by two burly guards, her arms painfully twisted up behind her back; a knife at her throat. An arrow sang through the air toward her captors, only to bounce off a shield thrown up hastily by Zhudai.

  Brynn, always quick on his feet, made a dash for the edge of the dais. At Zhudai’s cry of outrage, the soldiers turned and spotted him. Hampered by the sword, the boy was easily caught – but only for a moment. The guard holding him gargled and fell sideways, an arrow protruding from his throat. Marcus had found a new target. Brynn sprang from the platform, casting a worried look back over his shoulder at Jade as he rolled to his feet. She tossed a thoughtat him. Go. Go. He nodded, sidestepping more guards and jumping over several others who fell beneath more of Marcus’ deadly arrows. Within seconds, the boy vanished into the chaotic crowd. Zhudai’s guards were left peering vainly into it.

  Jade fought to stay upright, her legs weak, the pain in her arms excruciating. Zhudai cast a swift look up at the sun. It was still obscured. Pulling out a dagger, he sent her a viciously triumphant glance as he whisked the black silk off Baiyu’s prison.

  Inside, Baiyu sat, perfectly motionless, his legs crossed, eyes closed, the backs of his hands resting on his knees, finger and thumb making a loose circle. His flowing, white silk shirt and pants were smoke and blood stained; his feet bare; his long hair tied back into a rough braid. Jade strained to see him. Was he well enough? Could he break free? Could he fight Zhudai?

  Smiling with feral delight, Zhudai circled the cage, intent on his victim. His words reached Jade faintly over the angry mob noises around the dais.

  “It is time, oh mighty white dragon.”

  Baiyu opened his eyes, looking on his childhood playmate with compassion and lingering sadness. “So it would seem, brother.”

  Zhudai spat. “I am no brother of yours. You betrayed our friendship. You betrayed me.”

  “No,” Baiyu returned calmly. “You betrayed yourself. I did not accept the status of the White Dragon lightly, or happily. I never wanted power. The protection of these people is my responsibility, not my right. You never could understand that.”

  “You lie, Baiyu.” Zhudai sneered. “You wanted the power, alright. You just felt guilty once you had it but it didn’t stop you from lording it over me every chance you got. You even used it to steal Hua Mei-Lien from me.”

  Baiyu shook his head pityingly. “She was never yours. We were married for over eighteen years, brother. I simply hid the fact from you for fear of what you would do.”

  Zhudai stilled as understanding and fury bloomed in his face. “No.” He shook his head in denial. “It’s not true.”

  “Pretty words are not always true; true words not always pretty; and yet” Baiyu sighed, “they are still true.”

  “No.” Zhudai hit his dagger hilt against the iron bars, his anger ringing out across the courtyard like a bell. “You took my life, my path, the woman I loved. You took all of it. Now it is time for me to return the favour and watch you die. Your blood will give me immortality and the Empire. That is all the revenge I need.”

  “He who seeks revenge should dig two graves,” Baiyu quoted, closing his eyes again.

  “What are you going to do, meditate me to death?” Throwing back his head, Zhudai laughed. He pointed at Jade, struggling in the arms of his guards. “I have your would-be rescuers by the throat. No one can save you now.” He opened the cage door. “Come, you fool, come and feel my power.”

  Baiyu’s eyes flew open. For the briefest instant, he caught Jade’s and she read some sort of message there. What was it? What did he want her to do? What could she do? There was iron at her neck and four strong hands holding her. How could she help? How could she get free when she was so weak?

  Distracted, she almost missed Baiyu’s move when it came. As soon as the prison door was fully open, Baiyu rose with fluid grace and strength. Swiftly, he seized Zhudai’s knife hand in his own and wrapped long, strong fingers around the sorcerer’s throat. Zhudai backpedalled, eyes wide with shock, mouth gasping for air, muscles straining against Baiyu’s unforeseen strength.

  “No,” Baiyu murmured. “I have held back too long out of pity and love, brother. Perhaps now it is time for you to feel the true extent of my power. Let us determine, here and now, who will have the balance of power in this world: Light or Dark.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  A strange, purple-blue haze shimmered around Baiyu. A matching one, tinged blood-red, enveloped Zhudai. The brother-enemies broke apart, glaring at each other. Zhudai flung his dagger aside. Baiyu nodded serenely. The magical distortion grew until Jade was forced to squint to see what was happening.

  There was a soundless implosion, followed by a mind-twisting warping of reality. She blinked. Where Baiyu and Zhudai had stood, were now two creatures of myth and magic: a white Chinese-style dragon and a huge, black-feathered bird. Long and sinuous, the dragon raised his broad head and bared a mouthful of fangs at the bird. At a shouted order from Zhudai’s guards, arrows rained down. They bounced harmlessly from his gleaming white hide. Defiantly, he reared back on two strong, hind legs, flexed the curved claws on his front feet and leapt into the air. Wingless, he flew entirely by enchantment, slipping through the sky like the fluttering white tail of a kite.

  With a raucous cry of anger, the bird leapt aloft. The weird half-light of the eclipse reflected a dull orange off his jet feathers. A tongue of fire, aimed at Baiyu, gushed from his wicked beak. Powerful wings caused a downdraft that blew dust and pink flower petals into whorls and whipped Jade’s hair into her face. Blinded, she turned her face away. When she recovered, it was to see the two supernatural beings soaring, engaged in a titanic battle far above the city.

  In the courtyard, the crowd paused in their frenzy to watch in awe as their guardian and their Emperor’s advisor began a battle for supremacy. A ripple of fear ran outward from the dais like a wave. As the Light and Dark war was waged on high, people suddenly realised how exposed the courtyard was. At the edges, they began to slip into nearby alleys, looking anxiously back and carrying pilfered treasures into the city and away from danger.

  Still imprisoned by Zhudai’s guards, Jade tore her gaze from the spectacle above. She had to escape if she could and this seemed like the best chance. Even as she searched the crowd for signs of Phoenix and Brynn, one of the guards holding her arm choked and grabbed at his shoulder. He collapsed to the wooden floor, another of Marcus’ arrows vibrating in his back. Zhudai’s shield was down. Time to act. The second man gripped her tighter but she could see a certain wildness about his eyes that spoke of conflicted desires.

  “If you let me go,” she whispered, “you might live.” He started, glanced hastily around at his fellow soldiers and swallowed hard. Then he stiffened. His fingers relaxed and he blinked at her before slumping to the ground with an arrow in his back. Jade snatched up his long sword-bladed staff and hurried toward the stairs.

  The courtyard was almost empty of civilians now. Only Zhudai’s soldiers remained, standing in clumps, staring up at the battle ensuing overhead. Jade passed unnoticed behind several as she made her escape and ran toward her friends. Phoenix, Xinyu and Brynn were together, watching the sky.

  “You ok?” Phoenix asked, sparing her a quick, searching look. He had Blódbál in one hand and held Xinyu’s hand with the other.

  “Yes,” she nodded, joining them and turning to stare upward. “Our knives?”

  “Not yet,” Xinyu said shortly. “Not long, though.”

  “Where’s Marcus?” Jade asked, still studying the heavens.

  “Here,” his voice sounded nearby.

  She shot him a quick, welcoming look. “Nice shooting. Thanks.”

  His warm hand fell on her shoulder and stayed there. She entwined her fingers in his and squeezed gratefully, her eyes fixed on the conflict overhead that would determine the fate of this world and her own.

  High above, the two tiny figurines came together and par
ted; attacked and split time after time. Had it not been so frightening, the spectacle would have been quite beautiful; an aerial ballet. Black feathers, white scales and drops of blood began to fall to earth like the first hints of spring rain. Xinyu bit back a sob and snatched up a scale, holding it in her fist like a talisman. Phoenix put his arm around her.

  The adversaries dropped lower. Now their battle could be seen clearly. Flame spouted from Zhudai’s mouth, singeing the tip of Baiyu’s tail as he twisted lithely through the air. Baiyu turned an impossible, inside-out loop and raked Zhudai’s exposed belly with long claws. More blood spattered. Zhudai soared high then folded his wings to dive from above and behind. The dragon rolled over, entangling his claws and tail in Zhudai’s; his teeth closed around the feathery neck. They fell briefly, locked together, coming ever closer to the watchers below. Xinyu gasped as it appeared they would crash into the Palace that dominated the northern skyline. At the last second, the pair separated and soared into the air again.

  Zhudai flapped away to the west before turning on a wingtip to arrow back toward the White Dragon. Baiyu coiled back on himself, looping around in dizzying circles. The great bird snapped his beak on empty air time and time again until he cried out in frustration and withdrew to regather himself. Hovering with rapid wingbeats, Zhudai waited for the right moment then spewed a narrow stream of flame directly across Baiyu’s exposed flanks. The dragon roared in pain. Xinyu whimpered and hid her face in Phoenix’s shoulder.

  “Why is he a bird?” Brynn asked, shielding his eyes as the eclipse began, at last, to slip away from the sun. “I mean, I get it that Long Baiyu means White Jade Dragon but…”

  Jade clutched at Marcus’ hand. “He’s right. We never translated Zhudai’s name.”

  “So?” Phoenix wasn’t so easily distracted. He jerked in sympathetic reaction as Zhudai’s beak scored a painful strike to Baiyu’s leg. The dragon twisted free, his tail slapping Zhudai in the eyes, blinding the great bird.

  “Feng Zhudai translates to ‘Phoenix Black Pearl’,” Jade said, frowning. “’Black Pearl Phoenix.’ But that means nothing, really. A phoenix is a bird in both our language and theirs but that’s the only real similarity.”

  “The true Fenghuang bird,” Xinyu said bitterly, “is meant to represent the Balance: both male and female. It is a bringer of peace. Zhudai is the ‘Feng’ half only. He brings only strength and power without the mitigating balance of love and compassion.”

  “It is strange, though, that the translations of both Baiyu and Zhudai contain your names,” Marcus commented.

  Jade focussed on him wonderingly. “I hadn’t realised. You’re right. White Jade Dragon. Black Pearl Phoenix.” She looked back at the two enemies, puzzled. “But I still don’t see the connection.”

  Phoenix waved a hand, cutting her off. He pointed. “I don’t think you’re going to have time to work it out now. Looks like things are ending. We need to move. They’re coming down.”

  He was right. The battle sank closer and closer to earth as the two well-matched opponents tired. The little group of friends headed for the dubious protection of the wooden dais. As Baiyu and Zhudai descended, it could be seen that both were badly wounded. The White Dragon’s left eye was gouged and bleeding profusely. Deep slashes had been scored along the length of his body. Zhudai fared little better: great clumps of feathers were missing, blood dripped freely from neck wounds and he favoured his right wing.

  Suddenly, Zhudai lunged, latching on to the back of Baiyu’s neck with his hooked beak, like a bird catching a snake. He dug strong, clawed feet into the dragon’s supple spine and held on as Baiyu writhed and twisted in his grip. Locked together in mortal combat, the two spiralled ever closer to the ground. Baiyu turned, trying desperately to close his fearsome jaws onto Zhudai’s legs. Too late, Zhudai released his grip. The earth shook and dust rose in a great cloud as Baiyu plunged to earth, almost exactly where his horrified young friends had stood moments before.

  Jade gasped, rushing to Baiyu’s aid, her Healer instincts fired. Xinyu beat her to it, running swiftly to her fathers’ side. Light once more crept across the Palace grounds as the moon-shadow shifted and exposed a burning crescent of the sun. Slowly, dust and upswept pink petals, settled back to earth.

  Above, Zhudai flapped his immense wings, circling once before soaring back into the sky. Banking, he swept low over the Palace walls, shrieking a harsh cry of triumph. Folding his wings, he dived sharply toward the parapet. The Emperor’s servants realised his intention and ran to shield their master. They were too late. In the blink of an eye, Zhudai snatched up the gold-clad young man in his claws and struggled skyward again with his prize. He circled once more before swooping low over the courtyard and dropping the Emperor into the waiting arms of the red-and-black clad guardsmen waiting there. Seconds later he returned, coming in to land awkwardly some distance away from where Baiyu lay. The air around him wavered as he morphed back into his human form. Soldiers flocked to his side, kneeling before him in a show of abject devotion. In their midst was the young Han Emperor, glaring defiance at his treacherous advisor.

  Oblivious to these events, Xinyu knelt, holding her fathers’ hand as Jade and the others arrived. Tears poured down her dusty cheeks at the sight of his broken, bleeding body.

  “Father, please,” she begged. “Don’t die. I can’t fight him alone. Please. We need you.”

  Once more in human shape, Baiyu smiled painfully. “You are not alone. Look around.”

  Jade reached out her hand, intending to heal his many, ugly wounds but Baiyu pushed it gently aside. “Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely, child. It is my time and I am ready.” He grimaced, his one good eye closing.

  “Father!” Xinyu stroked his forehead, weeping openly.

  “There is not much time,” Baiyu whispered, “and things still unsaid. Jade,” he fixed her with a look of such compassionate understanding that she felt her heart stop for a second. “Remember: it is not who you are that holds you back; but who you think you are not.”

  Blindly, Jade nodded, not really understanding.

  “Phoenix,” the wounded man gestured feebly for the warrior to lean closer. “If you are patient in a moment of anger, you will escape a hundred days of sorrow.”

  Phoenix frowned momentarily then his eyes widened and he nodded. His eyes flicked to Blódbál, held firmly in his hand, then to Marcus, who stared gravely back.

  “Xinyu,” Baiyu drew his daughter closer. “There is one more thing I must tell you.” She leaned in and he whispered in her ear. She pressed her lips together then nodded and closed her eyes as he touched her face, his scarred face gentled by love.

  “Stand aside, fools,” Zhudai’s harsh voice interrupted.

  Jade looked back over her shoulder, straight at the business end of a very long, very sharp spear. Phoenix lowered Blódbál and glanced back at Baiyu, who inclined his head wearily and released Xinyu. Slowly, the five friends stood upright, their hands raised in surrender. They were surrounded by dozens of armed guards and cocked weapons. There was no escape.

  Jade caught Phoenix’s inquiring look and shook her head. She didn’t have enough magical strength to take on Zhudai and his men. He frowned, lips tightening.

  “Stand aside and I may spare your lives,” Zhudai commanded again. Jade and the others edged back, followed closely by the tips of spears, swords and arrows.

  Laughing, Zhudai limped forward to kneel beside his fallen foe. He looked up at the sun, still more than half-hidden in shadow. “The Dark still overwhelms the Light. There is time.” He paused, smiling coolly at his old playmate. “You fought well, old friend but not well enough. I have you. I have the Emperor. Nothing can stop me now. I will have it all.”

  Baiyu shook his head painfully, his expression peaceful even in the face of death and loss. “You will not have what you want most, brother. You will not have love.”

  Zhudai’s face darkened. “I will have everything,” he repeate
d forcefully. Baiyu said nothing, merely smiling faintly, sadly. Zhudai made a small noise of frustration. Scowling he reached out and dipped a finger in the blood pooled at the base of Baiyu’s throat. Examining the reddened digit curiously, he shook his head. “Somehow I thought your blood would be…different.” Shrugging, he muttered a short incantation. Red-purple magic arced from his fingertips to earth in Baiyu’s battered body. Then, with an expression of deep satisfaction, Zhudai put his finger in his mouth and sucked it clean.

  With a faint sigh, Baiyu’s eye closed and his head lolled to one side. Zhudai looked down at him, his face revealing contempt mixed with a fleeting impression of sadness. His eyes narrowed and he surged to his feet. Sweeping the Emperor, captives and entourage with a look of triumphant arrogance, he threw his hands into the air and laughed aloud. A faint, red-purple shimmering enveloped him, brightening to a blinding, blood-red glow.

  When it was gone, his robes and skin were clean; his wounds healed; his hair once more neatly bound. He was whole and undamaged. At his feet, his old friend lay lifeless; a broken, bloody husk. Darkness had defeated the Light. Zhudai had triumphed. He was Immortal.

  Jade looked down at the shell that had been Baiyu and felt sickening realisation hit like a fist in the stomach: Baiyu was dead. She saw the same understanding turn Phoenix’s expression into stony hatred. Without Baiyu they were, truly, trapped in this realm. His power had brought them here. His had to return them.

  They had failed in their last Quest.

  They could not get home.

  Ever.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Hard on the realisation that their situation was now hopeless surged the familiar burn of anger and resentment. Heedless of the danger, Phoenix reached out and wrenched his sword from the guard who had taken it. The guard tried to reclaim it. Phoenix ran him through without hesitation or mercy. With Blódbál’s insidious song of war back in his head, the strength of his anger mounted until he could barely think through the red rage. Baiyu was dead and Zhudai was responsible. That was all that mattered.