Treasures of the Twelve

by Cindy Lin

  At the end of the bridge, they looked through a painted lattice panel framing the entrance into the adjoining wing. It was thankfully empty. Nezu had them hang from the lacquered frame. “Don’t touch the ground—I’ll make this quick.” Clinging to the top of the doorjamb with one hand, he pulled at the bridge, which snapped back into a belt, then threw it across the length of the next corridor. They swung back onto the bridge and hurried through the hall in relative silence.

  At last they reached the juncture between the West Wing and the North. Peering through the ornamental divider framing the doorway, they saw pairs of Strikers stationed at intervals all along the hall, the entrance to the Blue Dragon’s private chambers at its midpoint. Tora counted. “There are at least eight sets of Strikers here.”

  “We can take them,” Goru scoffed. “They have no idea that we’re coming.”

  Quietly, they came off the bridge and Nezu snapped it back into a belt. He clipped it around his waist and reached into his disguised pack for a handful of blades dipped in Rana’s paralyzing venom. “Get ready for the next phase,” he warned. As the others pulled out hidden blades or sleep powder, Usagi opened her pack and saw the Tigress’s robe and the Treasures from the throne room. She grabbed sleep powder and blades, then firmly lashed the pack closed. She was taking no chances with its precious contents.

  Peeking around the corner where the wings adjoined, Nezu set his sights on the two roaches flanking the end of the corridor. He took two disk-shaped blades and held them between his fingers. Aiming carefully, he flung the blades. They spun from his hand in opposing directions, hitting each Striker in the neck. Both roaches jerked, their eyes wide, and began to fall.

  “Go!” he ordered, and Usagi and Saru entered the hall. The floor chirped loudly as Saru ran forward and began flinging blades. Usagi leaped to the far end of the corridor. A shout went up as she passed over the heads of several teams of Dragonstrikers. The cricket floorboards squealed as she landed before two roaches guarding that end. She threw sleep powder in their faces, and as they slumped to the ground, the nearest remaining roaches started for her, drawing their swords. At the other end of the hall, Saru, Nezu, and Tora were taking out Strikers with hidden blades and sleep powder. The whole corridor was filled with a cacaphony of shrieking floorboards. Usagi positioned two star-shaped blades in her fingers, then let them fly. She managed to nick both approaching roaches, although one lumbered for a few steps more before collapsing at her feet.

  The corridor quieted for a brief moment. Usagi looked up. All the Strikers in the long hallway had been taken down. But inside the royal chambers, Usagi could hear the Blue Dragon’s deep voice, demanding to know what was going on, and the clacking of Striker armor and footsteps. She waved frantically at Inu and the others. “The Blue Dragon is up—and he knows there’ve been trespassers,” Usagi warned. “More Strikers are in his chambers.”

  “Earplugs in,” called Inu.

  As they reached for earplugs Rana had made from special clay, Inu pulled out the Flute of Dancing Dreams. Usagi jammed the clay in her ears and felt a heavy silence settle around her. She could still hear her own breathing, the sound of her swallowing, even her heartbeat, but the chirps of the cricket floors were muffled into nothingness. She raced toward the other Heirs just as four more Dragonstrikers stormed into the hall from the Blue Dragon’s chambers. Usagi skidded to a stop, face-to-face with Tupa, the captain of the Dragonstrikers. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak just as Inu put the flute to his lips and began to play.

  Within moments, the former Ram Heir and the other roaches sank to the ground. Tupa toppled like a felled tree, while the others curled up as if they were napping in a cozy bedroll. Usagi resisted the impulse to kick Tupa. Hopping over him, she rejoined the others.

  Goru bent over Tupa’s prone form and nudged him with a toe, then gave an all-clear sign. Tora’s snaggleteeth gleamed, and Rana’s dark eyes seemed to sparkle. With a flashing grin, Nezu waved them forward. Saru gestured to Inu to lead the way. They followed, their ears safely plugged, as his fingers moved up and down the flute in a soundless tune. The cricket floors could have been as loud as the Summoning Bell, and it wouldn’t have mattered.

  Even so, Usagi’s stomach clenched as they entered the Blue Dragon’s chambers. They moved cautiously into a series of grandly furnished rooms, filled with exquisite furniture and paneled with opulent silks and carved screens of pure jade.

  When they happened across the Blue Dragon, Usagi bit back a scream.

  All Heirs must learn to play at least basic notes on a standard flute before attempting to play the Flute of Dancing Dreams.

  While anyone who can play a simple song can access the powers of the Flute of Dancing Dreams, only skilled players can achieve utmost control. If one can play a flute well, then playing the Treasure will allow one to exert their will on individuals and large groups at the same time. Even the smallest actions can be controlled by a very good flutist.

  —Requirements of the Treasures, from Manual for Warrior Heirs, 17th edition

  Chapter 23

  Taming the Dragon

  IN THE MIDDLE OF A richly decorated antechamber paneled all in gold, the Blue Dragon sat upright on the floor, his platform bed in the room beyond. His eyes were closed as if he were simply doing mind-the-mind, and his chest rose in even breaths. But one hand gripped a fan that Usagi immediately recognized as the Winds of Infinity, and the other clutched a drawn sword, as if he had been caught on his way to join a fight.

  Eyes wide, Rana pointed and mouthed, “Sleeping?”

  The Monkey Heir glanced at Inu, who was playing the Flute of Dancing Dreams more intensely than ever. Drops of sweat glistened on Inu’s nose. Saru approached the Dragonlord and touched his arm. He didn’t respond. With a grim smile, she nodded.

  The Blue Dragon was clad in a dressing gown of dark silk, which pooled around him on the floor. He was gray-blue and his skin waxen, as if he were starved for air. His dark hair was pulled in a topknot away from his face, his cheekbones so prominent they were almost skeletal. His lips were purple to the point of black, and a disfiguring handprint on his left cheek—planted there by the Tigress—stood out in stark white, mirroring the pearls on a cord at his neck. A walnut-sized black pearl nestled next to an equally large white pearl—the Sea Jewels that were part of the Treasures! A dark blue vein throbbed in the Dragonlord’s neck, and his eyebrows were scowling black slashes.

  Usagi shuddered, remembering how he’d looked when she’d refused to join his Dragon Academy and had tried to protect the Tigress. He’d looked at her as if she were nothing but a bug to be squashed and disposed of. “We’ll find a use for her . . . for Master Douzen’s experiments,” he’d said casually, as if torture were an obvious solution. And then he’d threatened to cut the Tigress open. With hot eyes, Usagi stared at the Tigress’s handprint on his cheek. Was that all that was left of her? What had he done to her? Had she wound up as fodder for experiments, tortured and tormented till the old warrior finally gave in to death?

  The Dragonlord remained unmoving as Saru carefully pried his long-nailed fingers from first his sword, then from the Winds of Infinity. She looked up and gestured for the replacement fan.

  Tora jumped as if she’d been kicked. She rummaged frantically in her pack and pulled out the fake Winds of Infinity that Goru had conjured with the hammer. She bent over the Blue Dragon and placed it in his hand, while Saru stashed the real one away in her belt. The Monkey Heir removed the pearls and put them away as well. Tora found the replacement Sea Jewels in her pack and fastened the silk cord around the Dragonlord’s neck, her hands trembling.

  But where was the Coppice Comb? The Blue Dragon was not wearing a belt, and the dressing gown had no pockets. Usagi ran to the bedchamber and found a golden chest by the Blue Dragon’s bed. She searched its drawers and quickly found the comb. She waved at Tora and held it up, and Tora rushed over with the one created by the Conjurer. She placed it where Usagi pointed a
nd shut the drawers while Usagi tucked the comb with the other Treasures in her pack. Her whole body tingled with a strange thrill. They’d done it—they’d gotten hold of all the Treasures.

  She glanced over at Inu. Beneath his Striker helmet, his shaggy hair was damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead as he played with all his might. Spirits, if he got too tired to play, they’d be done for. Usagi made sure the Dragonlord’s chambers looked untouched, and joined the others, who were staring at the Blue Dragon with a mixture of disgust and fascination. Nezu was seething, his hands clenching and unclenching. Usagi saw that the Dragonlord was utterly helpless in that moment, and a thought struck her.

  Here was an opportunity. This could be their chance to change everything. They had all the Treasures on them, and he would not be able to fight back. They couldn’t simply leave without doing something—like sickening him with Rana’s venom, or taking him prisoner. As Nezu reached for something at his belt, Usagi moved to help, thinking he sought to tie down the Dragonlord. Then she froze. Nezu’s hand shook as he raised a knife.

  Usagi scarcely breathed, watching to see what Nezu would do. If they could end things once and for all, shouldn’t they? The Blue Dragon had destroyed the old way of life on Midaga, he was responsible for the deaths of entire villages, and so many were still suffering because of him. The moment stretched nearly to the breaking point as Nezu summoned the strength to act. Then Saru placed a hand over his clenched fist. She took the knife from him, and Nezu sagged, looking ashamed. The Monkey Heir gestured at them to leave the chambers. Inu was still playing the flute, but his dark eyes flashed with anger and he stopped playing long enough to point at the Dragonlord and mouth the words, “Do it.”

  Saru shook her head and pulled at Inu’s arm, trying to get him to come along, but Inu shrugged her off and pointed furiously at the knife, then at the Blue Dragon, sitting there grayish blue and still as a long-dead corpse. As Saru hesitated, Inu grabbed for the knife himself, the flute in his hand forgotten. Usagi’s heart pounded, feeling as if it were beating its way out of her chest. The Dog Heir was going to kill the Dragonlord.

  The Blue Dragon’s eyes opened, dark as a storm. Inu recoiled in shock, then recovered and lunged, but he was too late. The Dragonlord sprang to his feet. His gray-blue face wore a rictus of fury. He knocked Inu’s arm away, sending the knife flying right into the wall, its blade sinking deep. Inu brought the flute to his lips, but the Dragonlord already had his fingers in his ears. He stood smugly, eyebrows raised, as Inu frantically played the Flute of Dancing Dreams. Then his sneer turned into a snarl and he lashed out with a kick, striking the flute out of Inu’s hands.

  The Treasure skittered across the floor and the Blue Dragon whipped around and hurled a second kick at Inu, straight into his jaw, sending him flat.

  Goru lowered his head and tackled the Blue Dragon, who stumbled. He quickly braced himself and pushed back, reaching down and grabbing hold of the Ox Heir. Roaring, he lifted Goru’s small, stocky frame over his head and threw him. Goru flew across the room and crashed into the carved gilt panels, splintering them into gold bits and sawdust.

  The Dragonlord started for the flute, but Rana dove on it before he reached it. His purplish lips curled in an amused smile. With a flourish, he snapped his fan open. He waved it over Rana, but nothing happened. The Dragonlord’s grin disappeared. He flapped the fan harder. Loose strands of Rana’s hair that had come uncoiled puffed gently about her face.

  The Blue Dragon stopped and stared hard at the fan. With a look of rage, he ripped it apart and swiftly kicked Rana in the stomach. Her face crumpled and she curled into an agonized ball. The Dragonlord swooped down for the flute and then stopped. He reached over Rana and picked something up. Straightening, he held up a curved green bead and a look of wonder came into his eyes.

  “No!” Usagi shouted. The Dragonlord looked over at her and his eyes gleamed. He said something, but with her earplugs in, she couldn’t hear anything but her own panicked breathing.

  Tora jumped onto his back, her fangs bared, and sank them into the back of the Blue Dragon’s neck. He jerked up, mouth open in a roar that none of them save Inu could hear, and tried to pull Tora off. His long black nails raked across her face and blood began to run down her cheeks, but she held on. As the Blue Dragon thrashed about, trying to get Tora off, Nezu and Saru drew their swords, looking for an opening to attack without hurting Tora.

  Usagi lunged for the flute and snatched it up. She ran to Inu, who was struggling to get up, his mouth bleeding. His eyes widened at something over her shoulder, and she turned to see Tupa and three other Strikers running into the Dragonlord’s chambers.

  The former Ram Heir quickly surveyed the room. His eyes met Usagi’s for a brief second and hardened. As the other Strikers fanned out behind him, he pointed at Usagi and Inu, directing his men to them and to Goru and Rana, who were staggering to get up. Then he advanced on Saru and Nezu, who had the Blue Dragon surrounded.

  Pressing the flute into Inu’s hands, Usagi looked at him and wordlessly begged him to play. He put the Flute of Dancing Dreams to his bloodied lips, but the two Strikers heading toward them remained wide awake, their swords drawn. Inu shook his head—he was having trouble.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Usagi spied the Dragonlord’s sword on the ground, which Saru had set aside after prying it from his hands. She grabbed it just as the two Strikers charged, and deflected their attack, their blades colliding with bone-rattling crashes. She gritted her teeth and swung the sword at first one, then the other Striker, attempting to hold them off as Inu kept trying with the flute. Finally he gave up and pulled out his Striker sword, then leaped into the fray. With the Dog Heir fighting beside her, Usagi found a surge of strength. They slashed ferociously at the two roaches while Saru and Nezu clashed with Tupa.

  The Blue Dragon finally managed to pull Tora off his back and promptly flung her across the room. Usagi saw her coming too late. Tora slammed into her and the two of them crashed to the ground. The wind was knocked out of Usagi, and she lost the Dragonlord’s sword. She grimaced as she tried to get up. Her walking stick, disguised as a firecannon, was strapped on her back, digging painfully into her spine with every move. Tora was on top of her, blood dripping from the scratches on her cheeks.

  Usagi looked at Tora and made a quick polishing motion, rubbing the top of her hand. Tora’s eyes widened in understanding. Her thumb went to work on the ring she wore, rubbing back and forth across the dark tortoiseshell band. After a few seconds, thick choking smoke shot out from the Ring of Obscurity in all directions, shrouding them in a dark cloud that rapidly filled the chamber.

  Coughing, Usagi pulled out her earplugs and grabbed Tora’s hand. They ducked low and ran out into the corridor, followed closely by Inu and the others. The floors chirped loudly as they ran down the hall, which was lined with the motionless figures of Strikers they’d attacked with blades and sleeping powder. If only the effects of the flute lasted as long.

  “Can you play at all?” she asked Inu.

  “Mmmphf,” he answered. A dribble of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. Gods, had the Blue Dragon broken Inu’s jaw? It was clear he could no longer access the flute’s power.

  She gestured to the others to take out their earplugs. “Inu’s hurt and can’t play. We need to get out of here, now.” She looked at Rana, who was hunched and holding her stomach, and Goru and Tora, who both sported bloody wounds. “Can you run?”

  “I’m fine,” said the Ox Heir, gingerly touching the cut on his head, and Tora gave a grim nod.

  “I can carry Rana,” offered Saru.

  Rana waved her off with a wince. “I’ll be fine. But the jade bead.” Her dark eyes were stricken. “The Dragonlord took it.”

  Another round of chirps sounded behind them, and Usagi looked back to see Tupa and his three Strikers emerging from the Dragonlord’s chambers in a cloud of black smoke. “Tupa’s coming!”

  “We’re in no shape to go back fo
r the bead,” said Saru. “Run!”

  They stampeded down the hall, sending up a cascade of chirps from the cricket floors. They sped through the North Wing and burst out of the building into the courtyard. Roaches patrolling its perimeter halted in confusion, staring at the seven Strikers running out of the Dragonlord’s residence—several with blood on their faces.

  “Don’t stop,” Nezu ordered.

  As they ran, shouts went up, and Usagi heard the pounding of booted feet, followed by Tupa’s voice issuing commands. “They’re raising the alarm,” she warned. “Go!”

  The urgent clanging of bells sounded, answered by ringing in the Central and Outer Courts, alerting the entire palace to intruders. They took off at spirit speed, racing out of the enclosed courtyard. As they turned for the gardens, Tora stopped them, her pupils enormous in the dark. “There are Guards heading there now.”

  “We’ll storm the Earth Gate,” Saru told them. It was the only side gate in the Inner Court, positioned directly on the other side of the palace complex from the main Gates of Heaven, and their nearest option. But it could only be reached if they crossed the entirety of the Inner Court. With Tupa and other Strikers on their tail, they shoved past Guards on night watch and leaped over passing servants in their scramble to escape.

  Usagi tracked the rhythmic thump of boots in pursuit. A spasm of fear ran through her at the growing sound of clattering Striker armor. “More Strikers have joined in the chase,” she warned. “With spirit speed.”

  The moon was past its apex in the sky, its cool light reflected by the pale marble wall of the palace compound. The rise of the wall loomed closer as they leaped and sprinted with all their zodiac powers. Goru lumbered ahead of them like a charging bull, tossing aside anyone who dared get in their way. Soon the wooden doors of the Earth Gate were in sight, painted with a pattern of mountains and flanked by two Guards.