The Pirate Empress

by Deborah Cannon

  A foul smell wafted forward. Like rotting meat. He looked around but saw nothing except a tall, red pavilion. Through the windows was a spiral staircase. He frowned, returned his attention to the activity below the hill, and saw that the Emperor was returning to the palace. Again, the reek of dead things drew his eyes to the tower. A large shadow flitted, blocking out the sunlight at intervals up the length of the pavilion. Scared breathless, Esen shot down the hillside and back into the garden, where he paused only long enough to look over his shoulder. Nothing followed. The sense of some malignant presence kept his heart hammering, and he bolted through the doorway and back inside the royal bedchamber.

  %%%

  “Where is His Majesty?” Admiral Fong demanded.

  “He is out rallying the people to his side,” Li answered.

  Li led Lao to his father, who got down on one knee to speak to his son. “Are you well?” he asked. “Did they give you all you needed?”

  “They did, father,” Lao said. “It was so exciting. I rode on the back of the golden Fenghuang and we flew over the sea, and I saw the strangest armies, gargoyles and men with arms that grow front-to-back and—”

  “I saw them, too. Now go with Lin, I need to speak to your mother. Alone.”

  Lao did not want to leave them, but Lin urged him to obey, and Li turned to her ex-husband. “I’m sorry I had to use such unconventional means to bring you to the capital.”

  “I should let you taste my lash once more.”

  “Perhaps I deserve that, but it would do no good. You must choose sides, Fong. The Fox Queen or the Emperor. Who will it be?”

  “You know that is no choice.” He scowled. “I must say one thing for you, Lotus Lily. You have not changed. You are still the fiery girl I captured and married.”

  “Surely, you don’t mean to tell me that you wish our marriage to continue?”

  Fong glanced at the door of the audience hall. Li smiled, seeing the answer to her question in Lin’s retreating form. She explained to Fong the reason why he was here. “I ask only two things of you, if you wish our marriage erased. One, that you will call me Li from now on. And two, that you will take your place on the Crosshairs of the Four Winds. We need you Fong. All of mortal men need you. As much as we need the Emperor.”

  CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO

  Master Yun’s Escape

  All means of escape were blocked to him. The statues were in pieces on the floor, the ghost armies released. The blade turned all that wielded it into one of Emperor Qin’s warriors. And although it had lost that ability during its long sojourn away from its master, perhaps returning it here had restored its power? It was worth a try. Master Yun gripped the hilt of the Scimitar and looked down at his boots. They remained unchanged. He released his grip. Just as he was about to give up, a blue dragon’s head appeared out of the dark. “Fucanlong!”

  The dragon morphed into a nebulous Qin soldier. “I heard you were in trouble and flew swiftly to help. The burial mound recognized me as one of its own and sucked me down here.”

  “Can we get out?”

  “Yes. The ghost soldiers are free. There is nothing to keep us here, except for the key to the gate.”

  “Well, first things first then. Ah, how pleased I am to see you my dear friend. But we must save the niceties for later. Come, we must find the gate.”

  When he entered the mound the first time, Master Yun had dropped straight into the vault of the Night Guards Army. After that, he had found the seat of Emperor Qin’s Military Command. The first vault should have been through the opening where Yongfang had left him. They need only return that way and they would be standing beneath the gate.

  “Do you remember how you found me?” Master Yun asked the blue dragon, now decked out like a Qin warrior. “I seem to be all turned around.”

  Fucanlong stared about their surroundings and agreed. Something in the dank atmosphere muddled the brain. “I think I came from this direction,” he said and turned to his left. Master Yun followed but the vaults he expected to see did not materialize. He tried his Moonstone again, but no light hit the walls. The more they proceeded in this direction, the farther away from their destination they seemed to go. Master Yun touched the hilt of Yongfang’s Scimitar. The hilt hummed in his hand as though some energy within the blade itself struggled for release.

  This way, he gestured. He walked by feel rather than sight. By the time they came full circle and he opened his eyes, he saw what he wanted to see.

  He turned and smiled at Fucanlong who had followed faithfully. When their sight grew familiar with the blue luminescence, they noticed that broken statues were scattered across the floor. But Master Yun knew he stood among the former rearguard. He moved, confidently now, amidst the shattered ranks. Along the northern and southern walls, cracked pottery chest plates, sabres and crossbows littered the ground. At the very front, where the battle formation of warriors had posed, were now fragments of clay. The mighty steeds had exploded out of their terracotta shells to escape with their riders and war chariots.

  Master Yun raised the Scimitar, which vibrated in his hand. Fucanlong, in his Qin warrior guise, moved up alongside and accepted the blade. A moment later, a crack of light appeared in the burial vault’s ceiling. Fucanlong returned the Scimitar and transformed. Master Yun clamped his legs over the dragon’s back, and they shot through the ever-widening gate into the glare of early dawn.

  The mound fell away. Below, the plains of the Yellow River loop flew by. Soon treetops appeared, an even line along the dirt road, leading to the outskirts of the capital.

  %%%

  Men practising maneuvers just inside the gates of the Forbidden City made way as Quan stopped in front of Captain Huang. He dropped to the ground with a clatter of boots, and passed over the reins. “See that my horse is tended to, Captain,” Quan said. “Where is the princess?”

  “With her husband, Brigade General.”

  Quan felt a spasm of rage at the term ‘husband.’ “Where is Esen, the Mongol?”

  Captain Huang thrust his head up from stroking the horse. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” Quan knew his voice sounded harsh. But Huang should be watching the treacherous barbarian every moment. Couldn’t he see Quan had his hands full trying to muster forces large enough to break those of the fox faeries? Altan had re-joined their side, and Esen would betray them next.

  “What is wrong, Brigade General? You seem overly anxious.”

  “I’m sorry, Huang,” he said, slapping a hand on his captain’s shoulder. “But I have news that Esen intends to murder His Majesty.”

  “His Highness is well-guarded. I think you can relax. He left with an escort of fifty, and among them was the blue dragon soldier. But the princess is inside.”

  Quan made his way to Li’s courtyard. She was alone with Peng, practising Tai Chi on the arched bridge over the lily pond in the middle of the stone floor. It was past dawn. The pale red gleam of the sun lit the brick walls, casting shadows. Li’s eyes were closed but Peng’s were not. The foxling saw him. And Li opened her eyes in a flash.

  “Quan,” she exclaimed. “I am so happy you’re back. Where is Master Yun?”

  “He is delayed,” he said, and proceeded to enlighten her on the inauspicious meeting with the fox faerie atop First Emperor’s mound.

  “So, Jasmine is at it again. Well, never mind. Master Yun will find his way back. He always does.”

  The flicker of nine, golden, white-tipped tails caught Quan’s eye. The little girl had tired of listening to the grownups talk, and was entertaining herself by reverting to the foxling and chasing mice from the flowerbeds. Li caught herself from gasping out loud. “It always spooks me when she does that. She is such a sweet little girl that I always forget she is a fox.”

  They made their way over the arched bridge to the white stone patio, and under the archway. The foxling shot out of her hiding place and tumbled onto her back, rolled playfully to have her belly tickled before she
stood up.

  “You are a scamp, Peng,” Li said. “Please revert to your human self. I wish to talk to you.”

  Peng barked, then let her pelt dissolve into sun-kissed skin. She smiled at Quan, and then went rigid. “What is it, little one?” he asked. He looked over his shoulder to where she stared, and saw nothing.

  Li squatted in front of the child. “Is something the matter?”

  She shook her head. “It’s my mother. She is trying to talk to me. She is trying to talk to me inside my head. She wants to see the boy called Lao.”

  “How does she know about him?” Li demanded.

  “She can see him. Is that not he?” Peng asked, pointing to the archway.

  Li turned to see, and Quan noted that there was indeed a small boy standing in the shade of the portal.

  “Great Grandfather is in trouble,” Lao said. “But he is free now and on his way home.”

  “Lao, what are you talking about? How do you know about Great Grandfather?”

  “He is aboard the blue dragon, Fucanlong.” Lao reached his hands out toward his mother. “Oh, what a dragon!”

  Admiral Fong approached, scowling. “Lao, what nonsense is this? I heard what you said. Now stop this nonsense. You have been talking foolishness all day. How can you see them? You are imagining things. Only babies do that. You must grow up, and cease the foolish chatter.”

  “Fong,” Li said. “Don’t be so harsh. He may be half White Tiger, but he is also half Warlock. If he says he can see, then he can see.”

  The furrows in Fong’s forehead threatened to collapse his face. He was not happy to have been brought here in such an undignified manner. He glared at Quan, then again at Li. It was as though he spoke the words that they all feared to give voice to: So, you are the one her heart clings to and always has.

  Although he had no love for this cruel man, Quan had to acknowledge that he had never made Li his wife. Fong had given her the honourable title and Quan was his rival. If the situation were reversed, he would be equally outraged. “She was your wife,” Quan said, humbly. “But she does not love you. Will you release her?”

  “I already have. I do not want a faithless woman. I have found one to replace her. One who is true to me.”

  Quan assumed he meant Li’s stepsister, Lin. “Then we are friends? We fight on the same side.”

  “We may fight on the same side,” Fong said. “But we will never be friends.”

  Quan understood and respected the admiral’s position. But would he take his place on the Crosshairs of the Four Winds?

  Peng suddenly started shaking violently. She shivered and shook, saliva slavering from her mouth, her eyes rolling back. Quan dropped to his knees next to Li to prevent the little girl from buckling to the ground. “What is wrong with her?” he demanded.

  “I am trying not to look at anything,” Peng said. “My mother is trying to see us. I don’t wish her to.”

  %%%

  A giant shadow fell over the group and Li looked up. Master Yun’s robes flapped as the blue dragon dropped to perch on the courtyard wall. He slid off the scaly back and lowered himself to the ground. “Return to the Emperor,” he ordered. “And thank you for the lift. And please, from now on, do not let His Majesty out of your sight.”

  The dragon winked and flew off.

  Was she ever glad to see him; they needed his advice. Before he could walk the ten paces to where the small group convened in Li’s stone garden, she reached him and told him all that had occurred prior to his arrival. “What do you think?” she asked. “What is happening to these children?”

  “Nothing is happening to them,” he said. “Nothing harmful anyway.” He turned to Peng whose eyes remained shut. “Is your mother still there? Does she still demand you open your eyes?”

  “Yes. I do not want her to see you. She means you harm.”

  “Then keep your eyes shut.” He turned to Lao who was tightly gripped at the shoulders by his father, the White Tiger. “You saw me Lao? Where did you see me?”

  “You were inside someplace very dark and very cavernous. But it was also blue inside, like your dragon. You were looking at some broken pieces of dishes on the floor.”

  Master Yun smiled. “Dishes?”

  Lao shrugged. “They were broken. I could not see what they were.”

  “And then?”

  “You walked in the dark until the blue dragon came to rescue you!”

  “I did indeed, Lao. You have the Sight of Wuji. As does Peng.”

  “What does that mean?” Li asked. “I have never heard of the Sight of Wuji.”

  The Sight of Wuji was there in their lineage, Master Yun explained. Even she possessed its vestigial essence. It lived inside the gelatinous matrix of the inner eye. Most of the time it was invisible, but under the right conditions it could be engaged. The Wuji gave infinite sight, for it could transmit to its host the vision of truth. But Master Yun could not engage the Sight. And it seemed neither could Li. He frowned and glanced down at Peng who stood stiffly, eyes shut, looking pained. Lao, still in the grip of his possessive father, watched in empathy. Master Yun took the children by their hands, and dropped to his knees. Fong objected, but Li stayed his hand. “We must learn whether the Emblem of Balance is broken,” Master Yun said.

  “Why?” Fong demanded.

  “Because if it is, then all is lost. The balance of the world is broken. Everything will be reversed and the world as we know it will vanish. White will be black, legend will become reality, and we will become legend. Our only hope is to form the Crosshairs of the Four Winds.”

  He took a piece of charcoal from the outdoor hearth and drew a symbol of the Taijitu. He painted one side of the backward S black and left the other side white. On the white side he coloured in the small circle, and on the black side he left the circle white. “Do you know this image?” he asked the children. They shook their heads. “Memorise this picture. Now, close your eyes and watch it in your minds. Draw the two circles together until they become one, and tell me what you see.”

  Peng flashed her eyes wide. “A beautiful garden with red flowers and green grass.”

  “It is broken,” Lao said. “The Emblem of Balance is broken. There are two pieces.”

  Master Yun sighed. “Then it is as I feared. We must hurry. Where is His Majesty? Where is Esen? Has anyone gone to check on the Emperor?”

  “Captain Huang said that he was surrounded by a bodyguard of fifty. And he mentioned that the blue dragon soldier escorted him as well. Did he desert His Majesty’s security to rescue you?” Quan asked.

  “I’m afraid so. Send someone to summon the Emperor home. Where is Zheng Min? Send him.”

  “I can’t find him,” Quan replied. “Before we left for Xian I sent for him, but Huang tells me he hasn’t returned from the Northeast wall.”

  “That does not bode well,” Master Yun said.

  A flicker of movement caught Li’s eye. She looked up at the wall and saw a golden fox perched on the coping. Master Yun and Quan’s stare followed, then Fong’s. Peng shrank back at the sight of her mother in her fox form. The white-tipped tail swished. Before their eyes Jasmine materialized in snowy white, breasts bared, legs crossed, the flowing stuff of her gown separating to reveal tantalizing skin. “So, daughter,” she said. “Why haven’t you answered me? Are these people torturing you? If they are, I’ll take you home.”

  “Foolish demon,” Master Yun said. “You are outnumbered. You cannot take her without our permission.”

  “So, you’ve escaped, Warlock. But you won’t win. Peng is my daughter. She’s coming with me.”

  “And Wu is my son!” Li shouted. “Where is he? What have you done with him?”

  “Ah, Lotus Lily,” she said. “How is it that you refuse to die? How many times have we tried, and still you live.”

  “I want my boy.”

  “Of course, you do. That’s why you will do nothing to harm me. That is also why you’ll listen to what I have to say. Dahlia wis
hes to parley. She has a proposition for you.”

  “I will not bargain with her.”

  “Not even for the life of your son? Come to the Mongol camp at the Juyong pass. Oh, yes,” she said, noting their dour expressions. “Altan holds the garrison and his second in command is your very own Zheng Min.” With that she transformed back to a fox and scampered away.

  CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

  Dahlia’s Proposition

  As the army of ten thousand neared the Juyong pass, a cloud of crows scattered. Quan searched the vicinity, slowing his horse to a trot. All around him was dead quiet. He, Master Yun and Li rode ahead. Lao had been sent back to the nursery where he was heavily guarded. His Majesty was safe with Fucanlong and the White Tiger. Esen was still missing, but it was almost certain that he was not on the palace grounds. A search party had been deployed to locate his whereabouts.

  Quan shivered, dismounted, and looked both ways before lowering his eyes to the dirt road, but the trampling of his troops had obliterated any marks of Altan’s army. Quan squinted at the abandoned towers. No one stood guard; the platforms were empty. A fox bayed in the distance, and then the sound of laughter tinkled in the air. On the crenellated wall beside one of the watchtowers, the Fox Queen and Jasmine appeared, holding Wu between them. Li gasped at the sight of her son. He was half-grown. For Quan the vision was even more of a miracle. He had never seen his son in the flesh before. He noted the smooth skin, like Li’s, and his own steely eyes.

  “So, Dahlia,” Master Yun said, addressing the Fox Queen. “We meet again.”

  “Indeed, Master Warlock. I see you have brought a small army with you. Did you think that necessary? You must realize by now that such a force is like a Mahjong tile to me. I can flatten it with a single motion.”

  “What do you want?”

  “You know what I want. I want you and your granddaughter and the Emperor to disappear. The world is mine now. I have broken the Emblem.” Dahlia’s moon-white hair cascaded over her shoulders; her yellow eyes gleamed with spite. “All right. Fine. You wish to bargain? Here is my proposition. But my proposition is not directed at you, Master Warlock. My proposition is for the mother of my hostage… Lotus Lily, step forward. Show yourself to me, the woman who has caused my Jasmine so much fury.”