by Eagle
“We'll be safe in here for a little while,” Hok said as she sat down. “But we shouldn't press our luck. The shopkeeper is a very nice man, obviously. I don't want to get him in trouble.”
Charles stared at her, dumbfounded. “You work here?”
“Volunteer is a better word,” Hok replied. “I happened to mention PawPaw when I first spoke with him, and he got very excited. It seems they are old friends.”
“PawPaw is the reason we're here, too,” Charles said. “How long have you been here?”
“We arrived in Hangzhou yesterday.”
“You and Ying?” Fu asked.
Hok nodded. “And a small boy called ShaoShu.”
Fu growled.
“Where are they now?” Charles asked.
“Ying is several li down the river,” Hok said. She glanced quickly around the room. “I don't know where ShaoShu is. He could be hiding, or he could have wandered off to explore. I've learned he likes to do both.”
“What do you do here?” Malao asked.
“Grind herbs, mix tonics—lots of things. I needed something to keep me busy while I waited for Ying to return, and this is fun for me.”
“When is Ying coming back?” Charles asked.
“ShaoShu and I were supposed to meet him in front of the apothecary at sunset tomorrow,” Hok said. “Unfortunately, there is no way we can do that now. Not with Tonglong and his men here.”
“Why don't we go to Ying?” Charles suggested. “We can't stay here, anyway. Do you know where he is?”
“I know where he was supposed to go,” Hok said, “but I won't be surprised if he is no longer there.”
“Where did he go?” Malao asked.
“To meet his mother.”
The room fell silent.
“See,” Hok said. “That's what I mean. There is no telling what might have happened.”
“Well, we have to do something,” Charles said. “Let's just go there now and take our chances.”
Hok rubbed the back of her neck. “Maybe you're right, Charles. Maybe we should go. But we can't leave right now. I don't want to abandon ShaoShu.”
Charles nodded. “Let's give him until tomorrow morning. If he shows up, then we take him with us. If not, we leave without him and come back some other time. What do all of you think?”
“It makes sense,” Malao said.
“To me, too,” Fu replied.
Hok waited a long moment, then nodded. “Okay, let's handle it that way. I'm staying at a nearby inn with ShaoShu, and the room is very big. We can all go there and wait until morning. Maybe ShaoShu will even show up. I think we will be safe there. The shopkeeper owns the inn, too.” She turned to Charles. “What about your boat? Will it be safe until tomorrow?”
“It will be fine,” Charles said. “I'm docked alongside hundreds of other foreign boats. No one will connect it to me or any of you. We will have to be sneaky getting aboard if we wait until morning, though. Simple disguises should work. I've done it many times. I tend to stand out in a crowd, you know.”
“Me too,” Hok said, and gave Charles a satisfied nod.
“Anything else?” Charles asked the group.
No one replied.
“Then there is nothing left to discuss,” Charles said. “Tonight, we wait. Tomorrow morning—at the latest—we set sail.”
Ying woke just before sunrise with tired eyes and a heavy head. While he'd begun the night sleeping just fine, he'd ended it with troublesome dreams of being watched. He slipped out of bed and peered out the window.
His mother was already outside, practicing in the early-morning moonlight. Perhaps she had been out there for a long while and disturbed his sleep. Or maybe she had come in and spied on him? He'd dreamed that he'd heard noises, too. Not that it mattered. He was leaving today with what he needed. She wouldn't have learned anything last night that would stop him.
Ying crawled back into bed to wait.
A quarter of an hour after sunrise, WanSow entered his room. Ying's eyes were closed, and he kept his breathing slow and steady—ironically, just as she had taught him the previous morning.
“Rise and shine,” WanSow said as she stepped up to his bed. “Time to get back to your training.”
Ying opened his eyes and faked a yawn, which wasn't all that difficult to do.
“You look exhausted,” WanSow said. “Perhaps you should sleep some more.”
“I'm fine,” Ying said. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was fully dressed in his black silk robe and pants.
WanSow took a step back. “I see that you are all ready to go. I will meet you outside.”
“Wait,” Ying said. He stood and leaned toward her. “I want to show you something.”
WanSow took another step back. Ying was invading her personal space.
“Why don't you show me outside?” WanSow said. “There isn't much room in here.”
“It will only take a moment,” Ying said. He took a step forward.
WanSow took a third step back, and Ying heard her heel bump into the trunk at the foot of his bed. He lunged toward her, thrusting both of his palms into her shoulders.
WanSow wilted like a flower, her upper body absorbing much of the impact. However, her knee buckled against the trunk, and she toppled over.
WanSow looked up at Ying from the floor, a look of disgust on her face. “Tripping me over the trunk was not an honorable attack. A dragon would never have done that.”
“Not even a vengeful dragon?” Ying asked.
WanSow's eyes narrowed. “Your father gave you that name, not me.”
Ying shrugged. “It doesn't matter anymore. My name is Ying now.”
“So it is,” WanSow said. She pushed herself to her feet. “What is it you want to know, Ying?”
“Grandmaster had a collection of secret dragon scrolls that he stole from my father. One of them had a sketch of the human body on each side. Do you know anything about it?”
WanSow frowned. “You can ask me anything you'd like and the first thing you want to know about is a treasure map?”
“You do know about it,” Ying said.
“I do,” WanSow replied. “But what makes you think Grandmaster stole it and the other scrolls from your father?”
“I saw him do it. I might have only been a toddler, but I remember. He took them right after he killed my father.”
WanSow shook her head and sat down on Ying's bed. “You saw Grandmaster taking back what was rightfully his. Those scrolls had been in his family for many generations. Your father was the real thief. He'd stolen them from Grandmaster.”
“What?” Ying said. “You're lying.”
“Why would I lie about this?”
Ying didn't have an answer.
“Ying, what do you know about your father?”
“I … I don't know,” Ying said hesitantly. “Not much, I suppose.”
“Well, your father was not a nice man. In fact, he was a very bad man.”
Ying swallowed hard.
“Your father led a band of cutthroat thieves. They stole indiscriminately, often harming innocent people. Grandmaster had had enough of their deplorable actions. More than that, he'd had enough of his oldest son damaging the family's reputation—”
“Oldest son?” Ying interrupted. “What are you talking about?”
WanSow's large eyes widened. “Oh, my. You don't know, do you?”
“Know what?”
“The relationship between your father and Grandmaster?”
Ying shook his head. “Wait … you mean—”
WanSow lowered her head. “Grandmaster was your father's father. I'm sorry. I thought you knew. I'd always assumed Grandmaster would tell you.”
Ying sat on the bed next to his mother. He was beginning to feel dizzy. “So, Grandmaster was my … grandfather?”
WanSow laid a hand on his shoulder. “Yes. But you keep talking about Grandmaster in the past tense. Has something happened to him?”
<
br /> “You haven't heard?” Ying asked.
“I don't hear much these days,” WanSow said. “We are quite a long way from Cangzhen, and I am no longer part of any network.”
“Grandmaster's dead,” Ying said.
“What happened?”
Ying looked away. “I killed him.”
WanSow lowered her head again. “Oh, dear.”
“If I had known he was my grandfather—” Ying began.
“What's done is done,” WanSow said, raising her head. “Past is past. All that matters now is what you do in the future.” She looked at him. “What is it you plan to do, Ying?”
Ying straightened. “I don't know now. I need to think about some things. I had planned to find the dragon scroll treasure.”
“I see,” WanSow said. “I suppose it is rightfully yours. The treasure and the map have been in your family for hundreds of years. May I ask what you plan to do with the treasure?”
“I don't know yet.”
“But you want it nonetheless?”
“Yes.”
“Then you shall have it,” WanSow said. “Whenever you might be ready. I should warn you, though, your family was selected to keep watch over the treasure, not take it.”
Ying paused. “I know the legend. I never dreamed that I might be a member of the keeper family, though.”
“Think about your responsibilities,” WanSow said. “The treasure is real. Whether it was put there by a dragon is up for debate. A person's position on this matter depends on how superstitious he or she is.”
Ying nodded.
“This house is yours, too,” WanSow said. “Along with much of the surrounding land. It, too, has been in your family for generations.”
Ying didn't know what to say. He glanced around as if seeing this house for the first time. It was old and solid, as Grandmaster had been. “How long have you been living here?”
“I came soon after you and I separated. Grand master suggested I come. Cangzhen had already become his new home. He wanted me to help keep the family secrets.”
“Secrets?” Ying said.
WanSow nodded. “Like the treasure. I take it you have seen the dragon scroll map?”
“Seen it?” Ying said. “I memorized it.”
“Then you know that it leads to this general area.”
“Yes.”
“Well, anybody clever enough to read that map and follow it here was supposed to be clever enough to find this house. I'm sure you noticed the dragons on the roof.”
Ying nodded. “Do they hold clues?”
“Yes,” WanSow replied. “That was a wise assumption The clues lead to a second map etched in a cave far behind the house, and I'll show it to you. But first I'd like to ask you a question, if you don't mind.”
“What?” Ying asked.
“The dragon scroll map explains how you found your way to this house, but you didn't seem at all surprised to find me here. Why not?”
“I learned about you from a pet vendor in Xuzhou,” Ying said. “I acquired some dragon bone from him.”
“Was he a grizzled old man with horribly scarred hands?”
“Yes.”
WanSow nodded. “He used to be part of your father's camp.”
“I know.”
“He worked here in Hangzhou for many years, too,” WanSow said. “I should never have told him my whereabouts.” She paused. “Is there any chance he told anyone else about this place?”
Ying opened his mouth to reply, but someone else spoke up from outside the bedroom window.
“What an excellent question!” the voice proclaimed. “I think I can answer that one. Yes! And now I know about the second treasure map, too. Thank you. Don't worry about the pet vendor sharing your secrets, dear lady. He won't be telling anyone anything, ever again.”
Ying turned toward the open window and saw Tonglong's head rise up in front of it. Tonglong shoved the barrel of a short qiang through it and said, “Don't even think of attacking. My men have the house surrounded. If I go down, Ying, so will you and your mother.”
WanSow smirked. “If anything happens to me, you will never find the treasure.”
“That's not true,” Tonglong said. “And you know it. It might take my men several days to find the cave without your help, but we will find it eventually. Better that you work with me now.”
Ying's upper lip curled back, but he didn't speak.
Tonglong turned to him. “What's gotten into you? The Ying I knew would be spitting threats left and right. Then again, I suppose learning you'd killed your own grandfather might shut anybody up.” He laughed and pointed the qiang at WanSow. “Take me to the cave.”
Ying watched his mother's shoulders slump as she stood and walked out of the house. He followed close on her heels. Ying was hopeful that he might get a chance to attack Tonglong, but his hopes were upset the moment he stepped outside. More than twenty soldiers encircled the house. They had been quite some distance away but closed in quickly. Each one held a long qiang raised in either his direction or his mother's.
Ying glanced at his mother. She shrugged as if to say, There is nothing we can do.
WanSow led them around the garden in which he'd first seen her and up a steep grade thick with pine trees. Ying walked behind her, while Tonglong followed Ying just out of striking distance, his qiang aimed at the center of Ying's back. Fifteen soldiers followed Tonglong, and the other five soldiers ransacked the house.
Ying heard a shriek overhead and looked up to see an eagle soaring above them. He shook his head at the irony.
“What's next, Ying?” Tonglong asked. “A tiger cub? A white monkey?” He laughed. “You know, those former brothers of yours and a round eye attacked two of my men in Hangzhou yesterday. In some ways, you have them to thank for my coming this morning. I assumed that you were with them and that you were all heading to this dragon house immediately. I worked through the night to hire a boat and crew large enough to transport my twenty best men and the treasure we're about to take.”
Ying said nothing.
They made it to the top of the steep hill, then slid and scraped their way down the other side. They repeated this two more times over progressively taller, steeper hills until Ying guessed that they had traveled well over a It.
Halfway up the fourth hill, in an area thick with foliage, the ground suddenly leveled off. WanSow pushed aside a wall of ferns to reveal a small cave entrance. It was about as wide as Ying's shoulders and as tall as his chest.
“Okay, so this would have taken a few weeks to locate,” Tonglong said. “This had better not be a trick.”
WanSow ignored Tonglong. She ducked into the cave and Ying went in after her, followed by Tonglong with his short qiang. The soldiers waited just outside the entrance.
Once inside, Ying found he could stand without difficulty. The cave was dark, and he could just make out his mother crossing to the back corner. She hunched down, low to the ground, and Ying heard the clink of metal hitting stone. He headed toward her and realized that she was striking a fire stone with a piece of metal. A few sparks found their mark, and a small candle ignited.
Ying wondered if his mother had hidden a qiang or a knife in that corner along with the candles and fire-starting items.
She hadn't.
WanSow used the little candle to light a second small candle, which she handed to Ying. He raised it over his head and saw the true dimensions of the space. It wasn't very big, roughly twenty paces wide and thirty paces long. He watched his mother move to the back wall and stop there, facing it.
Ying walked to her side and saw that she was staring at a huge section of rock face that had been ground flat and polished to a high sheen. A simple map had been carved into it. Ying memorized the map in three heartbeats.
Tonglong approached and stared over WanSow's shoulder from several paces behind. It took him much longer to commit the map to memory.
Tonglong backed up to the entrance, leaving Ying and his mother
alone in front of the map. “Who carved that?” Tonglong asked.
“No one knows,” WanSow replied.
“According to the legends, it was China's mystical Treasure Dragon,” Tonglong said. “Do you believe that?”
“I have no reason to disbelieve it,” WanSow said. “Why do you ask?”
Tonglong smiled. “I was just wondering if I need to keep one eye fixed over my shoulder after I take his treasure. I've been told certain dragons can be vengeful creatures.” He looked at Ying and laughed, then pointed his qiang at Ying's head.
Something inside Ying snapped. He threw his candle at Tonglong and leaped forward as if he had nothing left to lose, for indeed that was the case. He heard the click as the hammer on Tonglong's qiang fell, and in the same moment he saw a flash of metal strike Tong long in the side of the head. His mother had thrown the fire stone's strike bar. Tonglong cried out, twisting the qiang in her direction.
Fizz … BANG!
Tonglong's qiang erupted with a deafening BOOM! inside the small cave. His shot went high, over Wan-Sow's head, and was followed by the terrible rumbling sound of massive boulders shifting. WanSow managed to take two steps toward the cave's entrance before a huge section of the ceiling collapsed directly above her.
“No!” Ying shouted. He stopped short of Tonglong and turned toward the pile of rubble that had buried his mother. Out of the corner of his eye, Ying saw Tong long drop the smoking qiang and leap backward out of the entrance as another wave of grinding and shifting shuddered around them. Ying scrambled for the entrance but was too slow. A second avalanche of debris fell, this time over the entrance. In the blink of an eye, the opening was filled in with more rock than Ying could hope to move in a year. He was thrust into absolute darkness.
Ying glanced around for his mother's candle. It had been snuffed out. He could hardly breathe. Chalky dust filled his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. He coughed and called out to his mother.
She didn't reply.
Ying clawed his way around the cave, searching over, under, and in between jagged piles of stone until his fingers finally found something soft. It was his mother's arm. Ying fumbled as quickly as he dared with rocks of all sizes, tossing them aside, digging his mother free.
