by Jeannie Lin
The courtyard had become a battlefield. A hole had been blasted through the stone wall from which the rebels pushed their way inside. A scattering of city guards attempted to repel them while flames danced wickedly upon the rooftops. There was smoke everywhere, and I could feel the sting of it in my eyes and throat.
Perhaps the rebels had thought the governor was in residence or they didn’t care. The mansion was a symbol of imperial authority and had to be destroyed.
Keeping to the outer perimeter of the courtyard, I ushered Mother and Nan past the battle to the opening in the wall. The edges were jagged where the rebels had blasted through the brick. With one eye on the skirmish, I grasped Nan’s arm to help her over the rubble. Despite her thinness, there was a sinewy strength in the old woman, a strength I knew had helped my family through many difficult times.
My mother was trembling as I took hold of her, but there was a hard set to her jaw. For the first time in a long time, her eyes were clear as she looked at me. She had survived hard times, too, those eyes told me.
Nan steadied Mother from the other side, and I climbed over after her. There were more guards outside rushing toward the breach in the wall. I spied the sedan still partially hidden in the alleyway and guided Mother toward it. I could hear the shudder in her breath. The escape had given her a burst of energy, but she was fading now.
We had just climbed into the sedan when a stranger came out of nowhere, grabbing onto the side and shouting at us. My hand closed around the war fan tucked into my belt. With a flick of my wrist, I snapped it open.
The blades clicked as they locked in place. I slashed at the stranger’s face. A thin line of blood appeared over his cheek, and he let go with a startled cry. With no time to waste, I pulled the lever into reverse.
The jolt of the sedan threw me back onto Nan and Mother, but the mechanical gears were moving us away from the site of the battle. When we reached the opposite street, I flicked the fan closed and righted myself enough to take the controls. I directed the machine back toward the fortress, haplessly bumping against the stone wall as I rounded the corner.
“My daughter,” Mother said, her breath labored. “I never imagined.”
Only now that we were clear of danger did my hands start to shake. I gripped the levers harder to steady myself. I would have never imagined, either. I was a very different girl from the one who had left our village a month ago. That other Soling was nothing more than a ghost to me now.
Chapter Thirty-one
We were stopped at the fortress entrance, but not for long. The guards recognized the official emblem on the sedan as well as my face. I took some time getting my mother and Nan settled somewhere quiet to rest before seeking out a report on the governor’s mansion.
The fortress was in disarray. Apparently more patrols had been sent out to the streets and I couldn’t find the usual attendants at their stations. Secretary Zuo was also nowhere to be seen. When I went to Chang-wei’s workshop, it was empty.
Where was my brother? I saw various sketches he’d made, but the detection device and tools were missing. I should have known not to leave him alone—as clever as he was, he was still only a child.
With my heart pounding, I set out to search for him, but was immediately intercepted by a man I recognized as one of Zuo’s assistants. “Secretary Zuo is looking for you, miss.”
I followed the messenger as he sparked a lantern and led me down a set of stairs into a passage below the fortress. The air was cool and the walls were made of pressed dirt reinforced with a layer of stone. These tunnels had been dug out of the earth and appeared to be used for storage, though the space might be large enough to provide a refuge during a siege. I shuddered at the thought of being trapped down here, encased in the ground.
There were voices around the corner. As we turned, the passageway opened up. A ring of lanterns had been strung up overhead and a group of authorities were circled around something. I tensed at their grim expressions.
As I came closer, I saw it was Tian standing at the center beside a lattice of metalwork. It was his device, but reworked with a sturdier frame and springs at the base. The basic design had been expanded in a radial pattern, with arms fanning out like the points of a compass.
Secretary Zuo stood protectively beside my brother as Tian stared at the scroll of paper laid out over the floor of the tunnel. In the center of the paper was a spiral of black ink. A tangled spider’s web. No one spoke around them.
The earth suddenly wrenched beneath my feet and I lost my balance. The tunnel rumbled around us while a murmur went through the gathering. Someone muttered an oath.
With heart pounding, I braced my hand against the rough stone wall and counted the seconds until the tremors subsided. At that moment, Tian looked up, his eyes widening when he saw me. Beside him, the brush apparatus drew frantic spirals over the paper.
“The rebels are attacking from all sides, Soling. They’re everywhere.”
My brother looked up at me expectantly, as if I would have all the answers. All I could do was stare at the spikes of black of ink.
I let out a breath, struggling to steady my pulse. “We can’t intercept them all.”
Inevitably, one of those tunnels would breach the walls and bring the battle inside.
“We must try to stop as many as we can,” Zuo said.
The war council considered using the volunteer militia to bolster the Banner army, but I told them what had happened at the governor’s mansion. There were insurgents within the city that also needed to be controlled.
“Danger from inside as well as outside,” Zuo remarked somberly.
No wonder so many cities had fallen without warning. As Zuo and the commanders left to relay the new information to the governor, I took my brother’s side.
“You did well, Tian,” I said.
He looked solemnly at the ink pattern. “I could be wrong. These could be false alarms.”
My instincts told me he wasn’t mistaken. Chang-wei had trusted him, hadn’t he? Another tremor rumbled beneath our feet, much fainter this time, and fear gnawed a pit in my stomach. Changsha was a death trap. Escape was no longer an option.
We chose to stay in the workshop rather than go back to where Mother and Nan were resting. At least here, we continued to receive reports from the battalions that had been sent out. Earlier that day, the soldiers accompanied by Chang-wei had detected two separate tunnels that they’d exposed using explosives. The ensuing battles had been brief as the tunnel only contained mining crews who were captured for interrogation.
Based on Tian’s discovery, it was believed there were at least twelve such tunnels in various stages of advancement toward the city walls. It truly was an attack from all sides.
The battalions divided into smaller crews to try to locate the tunnels with listening devices from above ground. We continued to hear loud booms throughout the day as they detonated explosives over suspected dig sites. It was like hunting for pangolins burrowed deep inside their trenches; a frustrating and time-consuming endeavor.
Every so often, we heard news that another tunnel had been found. Some were abandoned; others had a few workmen. The bulk of the rebel force was still unaccounted for, which meant the threat was still crouched low, waiting to pounce.
Late into the night, I sent Tian back to see Mother while I stayed in the workshop. I ended up falling asleep on a mat in the corner while the oil lamp burned down. I didn’t know how much time had passed before I was roused by the rustle of cloth and the sound of footsteps carefully navigating the room.
I thought I recognized Chang-wei’s silhouette as I stirred.
“It’s me. It’s Soling,” I called out softly.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was waiting for you.”
My face flooded with heat as soon as I spoke, and I was glad for the darkness. The last ti
me we had seen each other, I had lost my first kiss to him. The memory of it made my heart beat wildly.
Chang-wei raised his lantern as he came closer, revealing himself fully to me. My chest hitched at the sight of him. There was a smudge of soot on his cheek, and his eyes appeared drawn past the point of exhaustion, but he was safe.
“I heard the governor’s mansion was attacked,” he began.
“The mob was put down shortly after.”
“You shouldn’t have been anywhere near danger.”
He had lowered himself onto one knee before me. Even though his tone was admonishing, it was only out of concern. I couldn’t help but feel this was how it should be between us; each of us concerned for the other. Protecting each other.
“What’s happening out there?” I asked.
His expression turned grim. “We’re doing what we can. The battalion is still out, scouring the surrounding area. I only have two hours before I must rejoin them.”
He had come back to create more explosive devices and to get some rest.
“Rest first,” I insisted. He started to protest, but I raised a finger to quiet him. “You’re more likely to make mistakes if you’re tired.”
My logic worked its way past his thick skull. He nodded and I moved aside so he could lower himself onto the mat. I should have left him there to rest, but I couldn’t bear the thought of losing these moments. How long would it be before I saw him again?
Fortunately, he didn’t ask me to leave. Instead, he laid his head back and closed his eyes.
“Does it have to be you out there?” I asked after I sensed he wasn’t sleeping.
He inhaled and exhaled deeply before replying. “It should be me.”
Just as he’d been the last one to man the cannons when Wusong fell.
“We’ll find and destroy the tunnels,” he assured me. “Changsha will not fall. Our spies have spotted the rebel army camp. There are over five thousand in number, and they will be here within days. It is critical we destroy their tunnels before then.”
Five thousand above ground and how many below? Were the rebels strong enough to take the city even now that we knew their plan of attack?
The next part was difficult for me to say. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you.”
“I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” he echoed, his voice thick with emotion.
That was the reason why I didn’t want him to go. And that was his reason for why he had to go. Chang-wei’s hand came to rest just beside mine, the backs of our palms touching. He ventured no further than that, but it was enough to send my pulse racing.
When he rose half an hour later, I got up to work alongside him, measuring out gunpowder and filling the ceramic shells. Each explosive device we constructed left us with less gunpowder to use in the cannons for our defense. Each explosive had to be deployed judiciously.
This time, there was no time for anything more heartfelt than a slight bow as Chang-wei took his leave in the dim hours before dawn. But I felt every emotion in the way he looked deeply into my eyes before parting.
I will return, he told me with his eyes.
Promise, I tried to beg him. Promise me.
But we said nothing aloud, and then he was gone again.
***
There were more explosions early that morning, closer to the city than before. More tremors shook the ground. Reports came back that the battalions were actively engaging rebel troops now who had their own supply of cannons and gunpowder.
“Eight of their tunnels have been destroyed,” Zuo told us. “The last one held over three hundred rebels armed for battle. There were casualties suffered on both sides.”
I wanted to call after him to ask whether there was any news of Chang-wei, but he had hurried off. Zuo was constantly busy relaying information between the governor and the field commanders as well as maintaining order within the wards. A city under siege was a pot just beneath boiling. Changsha had been straining under pressure for weeks.
As to detecting the tunnels, there was no longer any need. The sounds of drills and shovels could be heard directly in the underground passages. Tian and I were ushered into the living quarters of the fortress where Mother was convalescing.
No one knew when or where it would happen, but an invasion was imminent.
When we had been at war with the Yangguizi, the battles had been far away, removed from us by hundreds of li. Now the fighting was right outside the gate. The enemy was right beneath our feet. I sat with Mother and Nan in the chamber where we had been placed and waited out the hours. My brother hovered at the window, though there was nothing to see outside but other refugees. The governor’s wife and family had also been relocated nearby.
A gong sounded throughout the fortress, making us jump. The sound was deafening. Chang-wei had warned me of what the signal meant—they were calling all battalions back to fortify the city. Over the last days, Changsha’s defenses had been spread thin. Guards had been stationed around the armories and gunpowder stores, and there were soldiers upon the wall to operate the cannons, but the bulk of the garrison had set out to hunt down the rebels.
“Tian, come back here and sit with your mother,” Nan called out in a shaky voice.
“There has to be some way we can help,” my brother insisted, refusing to move from his lookout point. “It’s our duty to do what we can to defend the empire against these traitors.”
Apparently, his taste of responsibility had brought forth a strong sense of duty in him. Mother wasn’t happy to see it.
“What is there for you to do? You’re just a boy,” she snapped. “This war belongs to those men out there.”
Though she seemed to have mastered the opium cravings, Mother’s manner had become short-tempered and cutting.
“The burden belongs to all of us,” Tian insisted. “This is our country.”
Mother and Nan spoke at once. The elderly maidservant admonished my brother for being insolent while my mother dismissed him as being naive.
“Just like your father!” she hissed.
Tian blinked, stunned by the acid in her tone. “Then I should be proud then,” he said finally.
At that, Mother’s anger crumbled away, leaving her in tears. Nan threw her arms around Mother and glared at the boy. “Apologize to your mother!”
My brother mumbled an apology, but Mother couldn’t hear him. “I’m so tired. So tired,” she whispered, rocking in Nan’s arms.
I shot Tian a reprimanding look. Sullenly, he went to place a hand onto Mother’s shoulder. I understood her desire to withdraw from the politics of the empire. If Father hadn’t been entrenched in the war against the Yangguizi, he would still be here with us.
But then he wouldn’t have been the same man that we called our father. For him, like for Chang-wei, there was no other choice. No other way.
Mother folded her arms around Tian to pull him close to her. At that moment, a deafening explosion rocked the fortress walls. The windows of the chamber flew open and a washbasin toppled over, shattering, while the walls shook.
“Evacuate!” the guards shouted from outside. “Evacuate now!”
My ears were still ringing, but I staggered to my family and grabbed onto them; a hand in Tian’s shirt, an arm around Mother’s shoulders. I shouted for them to head toward the door, but my voice was drowned out by another thunderclap.
When we finally stumbled out into the courtyard, there were people scrambling in every which direction. Acrid smoke and dust filled the air, clogging my throat.
The fortress was under attack. Even though I could barely see, I held on tight to my family. No matter what happened, we would not be separated again. I would not let go.
Chapter Thirty-two
I could only figure out what had happened in bits and pieces. The rebels had broken through the nort
h wall. There was fighting inside the citadel.
There were no armed guards to guide the evacuation, and we were left to swarm like ants. Tian was small and able to squeeze through small spaces to act as a scout. He scurried forward and then shouted directions back to us.
“Through the corridor! The front hall is clear.”
I pulled my mother and Nan along with my needle gun drawn. If we encountered any threat, there was little it could do besides incapacitate a single attacker, but I needed every bit of courage I could gather. A skirmish had erupted in the bailey, and I couldn’t make out rebel from soldier in the confusion.
“Soling, let’s go back!” Mother pleaded.
I was torn. Should we slip back inside and hide, hoping for reinforcements to arrive? Or should we try for the gates? A man was struck down right in front of us, his face covered in blood as he fell to the dust. I shrank back against the wall just as Tian broke away from me. I screamed for him to come back, but his thin figure disappeared, swallowed by the smoke and dust and confusion.
I had never been surrounded by so much violence and madness. The blood rushed through my veins so hot that the urge to run was overwhelming. All I could think was the vow that I had said to myself earlier: Stay together. Stay together, no matter what.
“Come on,” I dragged Mother forward. “We have to go.”
The citadel had become a death trap. If we could only get out of here, we had a chance.
I finally found my brother again crouching beside the arch of the gate. He turned back to wave us over. At that same moment, I saw rebels rushing through from outside. Long Hairs. Their weapons were drawn and their expressions feral with blood frenzy.
My heart bled out. Tian wasn’t a threat to them, but it didn’t matter. Kill or be killed; that’s all anyone knew in battle. I tried to raise my needle gun, but my fingers had gone slack. My limbs felt like lead.
I was too far away to stop the attack. I knew that in my mind, but I had to do something. Had to. My vision sharpened, focusing starkly upon Tian. He looked so small, lost in the midst of battle.
