Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon

by Justin Hill

“Give it to me.”

  “No,” Wei-fang said. “The task is mine. I am the bearer of the sword. It is fitting that I should take it to Hades Dai.”

  Iron Crow took his student in for a moment. He had judged him wrongly. He nodded and stepped back, looking up to the top of the pagoda where a baleful red glow lit the night. “He is waiting for you.”

  Wei-fang looked up. Sparks swirled into the night air, hot and red against the blue-white cool of the stars, and silhouetted against them a huge black figure awaited. Hands on hips, Wei-fang shivered involuntarily as he saw his enemy. His horse paused. It seemed reluctant to move. Wei-fang had to kick it twice before it started forward again at a slow and deliberate pace.

  Shulien could not run anymore. She heaved in each breath and put a hand to the wall. She had been beaten and betrayed. She felt tears in her eyes, and swallowed them back in anger.

  She dragged in each breath, and then started back toward the stables. She needed horses. She needed Silent Wolf.

  As if he were summoned by her thought, Silent Wolf appeared, pulling on his black leather jacket and tying up the waist. “I heard fighting,” he said.

  “They’ve taken the sword,” she called out.

  “Where have they gone?”

  “They are going to kill Hades Dai.”

  “He will kill them.”

  “I know that,” she said.

  “Why didn’t you stop them?”

  “I tried.”

  Silent Wolf’s horse swished his tail as he pulled it from the ­stables.

  Shulien rushed into the stable and looked along the line, scanning the horses for a good courser.

  At the end she saw a dark head and recognized Duke Te’s favorite mount: Dama, a strong black hunter. The horse had a melancholy look to it. Dama snorted as she came close and scratched the top of his head. “Will you carry me? I am going after the sword.”

  Dama snorted again, and stamped a forehoof.

  “Come,” she said. He came forward willingly and she leaped lightly into the saddle.

  The night air echoed as Shulien and Silent Wolf set out into the night. Their horses pounded after the young warriors, the freshly turned sod showing where the other horses had passed.

  Silent Wolf leaned low in his saddle to follow the tracks. They had gone through the night gate. The tracks were clear in the bright moonlight, heading north, toward the mountains.

  When they were far from the gate, and the towers of Beijing were small behind them, the two paused to let their horses run on the soft green turf to the side of the road. When the tracks left the road, and turned toward a dark mountain valley, the two of them paused.

  “Do you know this valley?”

  Shulien shook her head.

  “Let us go carefully then.”

  Silent Wolf slowed the horses to a walk; they were both lathered. He looked at Shulien and saw that her lips were pursed.

  “Did she really beat you?” he said.

  Shulien said nothing for a long time, but then she turned to him and nodded.

  Their horses snorted the cool night air.

  “It will happen to you someday,” Shulien said as they entered the dark forest that filled the steep valley.

  “What?”

  “Being beaten.”

  27

  The brick staircase was tight and close and dark as it spiraled around the inside of the pagoda’s circumference. All Wei-fang could hear was his own breath, his own footsteps echoing back at him as he wound around and up, one hand running along the inside of the staircase. He reached the top and paused for a moment, then bent as he pushed through the cloth curtain, stepped out onto the top of the pagoda, felt the wind on his face, and the heat of the fire.

  Hades Dai was a great shadow, his fists gripping the parapet as he stared down. Wei-fang had forgotten the size of him: he was massive, like a bear: huge, powerful, deadly.

  Wei-fang felt his hand trembling. He drew in a deep breath and took a hesitant step forward. “Master,” he called out. His voice faltered and was caught by the breeze. He coughed and called out again. “Master. I have the sword!”

  Hades Dai turned. It was like seeing a stone statue turn. The flames shrank back before him, then leaped up as he stepped closer, the pagoda shuddering with each step. Flames underlit his face as he stared at Wei-fang, his eyes deep and demanding; red with reflected firelight. His fists opened and closed, large and fearsome. “Come, my child,” he said, and beckoned with his hand.

  Wei-fang stepped forward. A shape jumped out before Hades Dai. It was the Blind Enchantress. Wei-fang had not noticed her before. She stepped before the shadow and Hades Dai swatted her aside.

  “Enough, hag!” he said as she landed with a thud against the wall. “See, the sword has been brought to me. Child!” he called out. “Come to me. Bring the Green Destiny here!”

  Wei-fang stepped forward. A voice inside his head told him to give in, to hand the sword over and become the chosen one of Hades Dai.

  For a moment he saw how it would turn out. He would place the Green Destiny into the hands of his master and his master would touch his head in blessing. “Well done, my child,” he would intone, and Wei-fang would be glad.

  But he hesitated. His feet would not move, even as Hades Dai beckoned to him again, and the air rumbled with his voice. “Come, my child. Come to me.”

  From below came the shouts and cheers of the West Lotus warriors. Their voices buoyed Wei-fang up, propelled him forward. His right leg began to shake. It wanted to bend, a voice in his head told him insistently: Obey me.

  “Come, child,” Hades Dai said. His voice was so deep it made the sword tremble in Wei-fang’s hands as he proffered it. “Bring the sword to me, my son.”

  The Blind Enchantress moaned as she lay. Still Wei-fang hesitated. A shadow passed over Hades Dai’s face. He stepped through the flames and they leaped up as he crossed them. Wei-fang felt the heat, like a furnace blast on his face, but Hades Dai seemed untouched as he passed through the fire.

  From below the sound of cheering changed. There was the clash of steel on steel, the shouts of men dying.

  There was a sudden war cry from below. “Jiaolong!”

  Wei-fang had forgotten himself, forgotten where he was. His world was Hades Dai’s face that looked down on him. But he knew that voice. It was Snow Vase. All of a sudden he remembered her, and remembered himself, the touch of Snow Vase’s hand.

  His courage rekindled. It burned fiercely, like embers that are bellowed back to life.

  He shook himself. “I am not your child,” he said. His voice sounded weak in his own ears, and Hades Dai looked down at him, almost with curiosity, as a bear would consider a dog. Wei-fang shouted, louder this time, and the sound of his own voice gave him courage.

  “I am not your child,” he repeated, “I am Jiaolong’s son. I am Dark Cloud’s child. Heroes of the Iron Way. It is in my mother’s name that I bring this sword here to you!”

  Hades Dai paused. He spoke slowly and carefully. There was command in his voice. “My child. Bring me the sword. Give it to me, my son!”

  Wei-fang pulled the sheath free and flung it away. The sword flashed with an inner green light as he came forward with furious attacks and Hades Dai stumbled back, parrying the blows with his steel vambraces so fast that red sparks flew.

  Three steps back, Hades Dai pulled his own broad­sword free, the monstrous weapon of heavy steel that was the Hellfire Blade.

  As he drew it the whole blade was wreathed in red fire. Hades Dai breathed on the flames, and the sword began to glow red. Red against green fought in a furious battle.

  Wei-fang felt the heat of the metal as he ducked the first and second swipes. Hades Dai laughed. He handled his broadsword as if it were as light as a stick. This was good sport. Within moments all Wei-fang could do was defe
nd himself. Hades Dai laughed louder. His eyes gleamed like red coals. “Come, my child!” he roared, and his filed teeth were needles of red flame in his mouth. “You want fame. I will give you fame. Jiaolong and her spawn. I shall fix your head to the spikes on the West Lotus temple, next to your mother’s skull!”

  Wei-fang ducked as the Hellfire Blade hit the parapet where he had just been standing. The brickwork exploded, shards raining down. He jumped again, and again the parapet exploded. Hades Dai was tireless. Blow after blow rained down, the blade glowing hotter with each swipe. Wei-fang jumped back again. He stumbled on the shattered brickwork and swung his arms around to try and balance himself.

  A moment’s opportunity was all that was needed.

  Hades Dai laughed as he stepped casually forward, put his foot to Wei-fang’s chest and shoved him out into the night.

  Snow Vase galloped out of the forest, composite bow drawn to her ear. “Jiaolong!” she shouted.

  Her skill was immaculate, her timing was innate. At the moment the horse’s four hooves were all off the ground she let the first arrow fly. It punched a West Lotus sentry back off his feet.

  Snow Vase already had the next arrow slotted. A West Lotus warrior started to run at her. She opened her chest out, the arrow fletching brushed her cheek, the second arrow hit him in the throat and he fell with a strangled gasp. The third arrow was deflected by a leaping warrior, but the fourth came so fast after that it caught him full in the gut, and he pirouetted as he fell.

  As the other West Lotus warriors ran at her, Snow Vase swung her leg over the horse’s head and landed on her feet. For a moment she saw Green Destiny flash at the top of the pagoda. Her next shot knocked over the lead warrior. Two more felled the next attackers, and then they were upon her, and Snow Vase let out an incoherent shout as she drew her sword.

  Wei-fang was falling. He tried to catch the parapet, but it was too late, the earth was rushing up to meet him. The pagoda narrowed as it went up, so as he spun he reached desperately out, felt the fingers of his left hand brush the lip of the sixth floor, then the fifth floor. On the fourth floor his fingers were cut as they caught the sharp brick edges, but on the third floor there was enough purchase. He reached for the ledge, cried out as his bleeding fingers caught and held and he swung hard, slammed face first against the brickwork, grunted with pain, almost let the Green Destiny slip from his fingers.

  He felt his fingers slipping, kicked wildly, held himself for a moment, looked up, and saw Hades Dai grinning through a staircase window.

  He was a floor above. “Oh good!” Hades Dai said. “Wait just there! I need your head intact.”

  Hades Dai leaped down the stairs with terrifying speed, his howling eager as a wolf that scents its prey. Wei-fang looked desperately around. One hand on the sword, one hand clinging to the third level of the pagoda. The bricks formed a narrow ledge that ran around the pagoda. If he could just swing himself up . . . His foot slipped and failed to gain purchase. Hades Dai was coming.

  Terror gave him strength. The third time his foot caught, and he pulled himself up, hauled himself up, shaking as he looked for a way of escape. He screamed as Hades Dai’s fist punched through the bricks. And again. The broken wall swatted the sword from his hand.

  It tumbled down, end over end and Wei-fang cursed out loud. The realizations beat down on him. He had failed. He had lost the sword. He was going to die.

  Hades Dai’s head appeared.

  Wei-fang crawled desperately away and looked down. Snow Vase was holding the West Lotus warriors at bay. He crawled to the lip. It was better to jump, he thought, than to be torn apart.

  Hades Dai’s hands were gripping the sides of the hole and pulling the brickwork inwards, then his head thrust out.

  “There you are!” he grinned.

  Wei-fang swayed as he stood on the edge of the pagoda. He was about to jump when he saw a green light from where the sword had fallen. The light grew brighter and closer. It was rising toward them. He saw a hand, then the hilt, then the face.

  Hades Dai looked down and saw the face as well. It was Silent Wolf. His eyes opened in shock. “You,” he roared, and tore a hole in the wall big enough to step through.

  The Hellfire Blade licked with flames as they circled the outside of the pagoda, Silent Wolf driving Hades Dai higher and higher. The sparking swords lit up the night like fireworks as the Wudang masters gave a display of supreme martial skill. Block, slash, chop.

  “I killed you once.”

  “I was never dead.”

  “You will be soon.”

  “Not as soon as you.”

  Hades Dai grinned. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I cannot say the same.”

  Hades Dai’s sword flashed and whistled. Silent Wolf caught the Hellfire Blade with Green Destiny, and the two shuddered as they met. It was clear Green Destiny was winning the battle. Before the Hellfire Blade shattered, Hades Dai let his qi surge through him, and threw Silent Wolf back. As Hades Dai concentrated, he came at Silent Wolf faster and harder.

  It was true, Hades Dai had missed fighting Silent Wolf. He had relived his fight on Vulture Peak so many times. He had never been so tested, so pressed, so unsure of victory. It was a feeling he had missed. Battle became less satisfying, less joyful, when victory was sure. He tasted blood in his mouth. This was mortality. This was life. He laughed wildly as the two swords met and clashed almost faster than he could follow. Every strike was wild and instinctive. It was glorious.

  Snow Vase was beautiful as she fought alone: dressed in white, her mouth grim, her face wild and furious.

  “I am with you!” Wei-fang shouted as he dropped to the ground. She caught his eye for a moment and they shared a glance. At his feet was a West Lotus warrior with an arrow sticking out of his chest. In his hand was a nunchaku. Wei-fang pulled it out of the warrior’s clasp and twirled it around his head. It was made of heart of ash—heavy, solid, reliable. Not flashy or historic. It was a weapon that reminded a man of his simple origins. It felt good in his hand.

  He sighed. He had overreached himself with Green Destiny. Snow Vase should have wielded the weapon. He cursed his pride and twirled the nunchaku once more. This was his weapon, he told himself as he swung it to get the feel of it before stepping toward the fighting. He swallowed back the fear. The battle was far from done.

  Shulien hitched her horse’s reins to the tree, then drew her swords and sprinted after Silent Wolf. He had disappeared into the shadows, but as she looked she saw Snow Vase trapped within a ring of fighters, shouting her defiance.

  She paused for a moment. Silent Wolf could look after himself, she thought. Snow Vase was alone and surrounded. She needed her help. She was impressed with how Snow Vase kept the West Lotus warriors back. She was clinical, calm. She was controlling her anger.

  “Back!” Shulien shouted as the West Lotus warriors fell back to let Iron Crow fight.

  “No!” Snow Vase said. “I will take him.”

  It was at that moment that Wei-fang somersaulted into the combat. He landed at Snow Vase’s side. Shulien turned away. Now he was there she had to help Silent Wolf. Shulien had a grim determination as she climbed the pagoda. She had lost one man in battle; she was not going to lose Silent Wolf this time.

  She took the steps three at a time and almost fell into the chamber on the sixth floor.

  “Yu Shulien,” a voice said. A black crouched thing blocked the staircase. It was a woman, she thought, though a black cloth bound its eyes.

  “Who are you?” Shulien said.

  “I am the one who sees the future.”

  “Stand aside,” Shulien said. “I have no cause to fight you.”

  “No?”

  For a moment Shulien shook herself. For a moment she saw Jade Fox before her, pale and haunting and hungry as a ghost.

  Then it was the blind hag again. “You se
e clearly,” the hag said. “You see what binds us together with this sword.”

  “What are you?”

  “I was born of her hatred. Even beyond the grave she has thirsted for your blood. She has been waiting all this time. Waiting for your death.”

  “Who?”

  The voice of the hag changed, and this time it was unmistakably that of her old foe, Jade Fox, the woman who had killed Mubai. “Join me in the dark, Shulien. I’ve been waiting for you. Mubai is waiting. I have his soul . . .”

  Shulien shook herself again as the hag came at her, spinning like a dervish, each hand holding a whip with links of razor-sharp steel. Each one was a whirl of death. Shulien knocked them back. One, two, three—the blades kept coming. Six razor blizzards that whipped at her. She held back for a moment. There was a thunderous crash from the top of the pagoda. Shulien’s eyes looked up. The Blind Enchantress laughed. “I have seen it. Your man is not dead yet,” she said, “but it will not be long.”

  Shulien leaped forward, her sword licking through the blizzard of blades. The Blind Enchantress yelped with pain. Her blood hissed as it fell. “Not fair,” she said, and her hands moved in a wide circle. Drapes fell from the ceiling and covered the windows. The room was black.

  Shulien did not have a moment to react. She heard the thing come at her and was blind to defend herself. She yelped as the blades began to bite and the thing began to laugh.

  “Now we are equal,” it said.

  28

  Silent Wolf fought harder and faster than he had ever fought before, his straight green blade battling against the enormous broadsword of Hades Dai. He was losing himself to fury, and he knew it. Twenty years he had relived his death. Twenty years he had waited for vengeance, and now as he fought, all the dammed-up grief and loss and waiting began to overspill. It would get him killed.

  As if to reinforce the fact, there was a noise from within the pagoda. A woman’s voice, shouting in pain. It sounded just as Shulien might if she were cut.