by Cindy Lin
“You’re too kind, Yunja,” Usagi said, admiring the fish. “First my shoes, now these fish . . .”
The hermit waved a mud-crusted hand. “Don’t be silly! There’s plenty to go around. Besides, I’ve got quite a bit put away already for me and my dogs.”
“I’ve been wondering about that,” said Usagi. “How have you managed to hide here by yourself all these years?”
Yunja puffed out his skinny chest. “I never look too far ahead. My goal is simple. Stay alive! So what do I do? Avoid the Blue Dragon’s men. And how do I do that?” He waved the string of fish. “Find food around here. Never go back to the coast, which is crawling with spies. And that’s it.” He glanced down at the leafy branch he used as a club, deflating a little. “If I start thinking about the rest of my life—living alone, never seeing the faces of my family again—I might just lie down and let my dogs eat me for breakfast. So I don’t. To survive, I take it day by day.”
“Day by day,” Usagi repeated. It made sense. Maybe she was looking too far ahead, worrying about what would happen to her during the Running of the Mount when she hadn’t even gotten to Mount Jade yet. She gave the ground a couple of thumps with her walking stick. “Step-by-step.”
“That’s right.” The hermit tapped Usagi’s bamboo pole with his club. “Look at this fine staff! It’s almost twice your size. You could take someone’s head off.”
“This?” she laughed. “It’s just a stick of bamboo. There’s nothing special hidden inside. You’ve seen what the others have. Nezu’s got a sword, Saru calls hers a moon blade, and Inu can reach pretty far with that claw hook on a chain.”
“Pah!” grunted Yunja. “Who needs any of that corrupting metal? Let a Wood Dog show you how strong a simple stick can make you.” He strung up his catch of fish up in a tree and growled at his dogs, who licked their chops and whined. Then he held out a leathery hand. “Give that to me.”
With a shrug, Usagi gave the hermit her pole and he passed her his club. She took ahold of the leafy branch. Its green leaves immediately withered into brown, papery curls. “It doesn’t like me,” she said, dismayed.
“’Course it doesn’t,” said Yunja. “It’s been with me ever since I pulled it from a tree in my hometown.” He paused and frowned at her. “Weren’t you born in the year of the Wood Rabbit?” The hermit shook his head. “Never mind that. Hit me with it.”
“What? No!”
“Just try,” urged Yunja. “Go ahead and take a swing. Anywhere you like. Give me a good whack.”
Usagi hefted the club. “I shouldn’t.” It was so heavy that she had to use two hands to lift it—and the hermit was gaunt and as brittle-looking as the dead leaves that adorned the branch.
Yunja looked at her with a frown and scratched his beard. “What do you mean, ‘shouldn’t’? Just do it. Did you want to see what your stick can do or not?” He stepped back and waited, holding Usagi’s bamboo pole across his chest.
Usagi wanted to learn how to handle a weapon, but clubbing an old hermit with a tree branch wasn’t what she had in mind. But Yunja looked determined, the leaves in his hair rustling as he swayed from side to side. She raised the branch. “If you insist.” Usagi gave a halfhearted swing.
With a quick flick of his wrists, the hermit blocked it with the bamboo pole and batted the club away.
“Ow!” Usagi felt the impact shoot through her arms.
“Good!” said Yunja happily. “Try again. Harder.”
Setting her jaw, Usagi swiped with a little more force and was rebuffed, the bamboo pole smacking sharply against the gnarled branch. A spray of dead leaves went up.
“You call that hitting?” hooted Yunja. “Keep going!”
Usagi swung with all her might and missed, spinning in a circle. Yunja gave her a gentle push with the end of the bamboo pole, knocking her on her backside. He cackled. “Get up, Rabbit Girl!”
With a grunt, Usagi came up off the ground and charged at the old hermit, heaving the club over her head. Yunja blocked the blow then deftly thrust the pole between her arms. With a firm twist he forced the club from her grasp, and it clonked to the ground.
The hermit handed over the pole with a slight bow, smiling his gap-toothed smile. “See? Your walking stick works just fine.”
“Easy for you to say.” Usagi rubbed her stinging hands. “No one ever showed me how to use it like that. And I’m a lot smaller!”
“Excuses!” Yunja snorted. “It’s never too late to learn—and so what if you’re small? You make the most of what you’ve got.”
Usagi squared her shoulders. “All right then. Show me.”
When the Heirs returned from hunting, Usagi demonstrated what Yunja had taught her, tentatively blocking each swing of his club with her bamboo stick. She held her stick the way he’d shown her, gripping it firmly but not so hard that her knuckles were white. As the old hermit swiped at her with his knobby tree branch, newly green and leafy in his grasp, Usagi met each blow with increasing force, until Yunja threw down his club.
“I give up!” He raised his hands, chortling. “You win, Rabbit Girl.”
The Heirs clapped and whistled. Breathing hard, Usagi rested one end of her walking stick on the ground and exchanged bows with Yunja, then bowed toward the others.
“This is an excellent start!” Nezu crowed.
“Start?” Usagi wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. “How much more is there to learn?”
The others laughed, including Yunja. “Rabbit Girl,” he wheezed, “I’m just an old carpenter who never got past the local school in Flower Song Province. I know basics, but to be a master you’ll spend the rest of your life learning—and that goes for everything, not just stickfighting.” He wagged a finger at the rest. “The three of you claim to be Warrior Heirs, but you’re not doing a very good job! Shouldn’t you be training her?”
Inu scowled. “We’ve been traveling.”
“We should run drills,” Saru said quickly, a flush appearing on her pale cheeks. “At least get her comfortable enough to spar.”
“Yes! There are so many great stances and grips—I’ll show you my favorite step sequence,” Nezu told Usagi, smoothing his whiskers.
“Before you do any of that,” the old hermit said, reaching for the fish he’d brought, “how about a bit of lunch? Mustn’t let the hour of the Horse go by without a meal, else the horse god’ll kick ya in the gut.”
Everyone pitched in to clean the fish and a swamp hen brought back by the Heirs from their hunt. It was agreed that they would stay at Sun Moon Lake for another week to teach Usagi what they knew about stickfighting.
“It might be useful when we get to Mount Jade,” Inu told her. “And while we’re here, we’ve got to work on landing your leap. On the mountain, every one of your talents and gifts will be tested.”
Yunja tossed one of his dogs a scrap of fish gut. “Is she Running the Mount so soon?” He let out a low whistle. “Merciful gods.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Usagi asked nervously.
The hermit shrugged. “I never tried it myself. All I know is that the mountain goddess was never particularly easy on those who set foot on her territory, and I can’t see her letting any humans on her slopes again after what happened with the Blue Dragon.”
“That turncoat,” Inu muttered under his breath.
Puzzled, Usagi frowned. “You’ve said that before, Inu. Who did the Dragonlord turn on?”
There was a pause. Inu’s mouth set in a grim line and his dark eyes met Saru’s. She nodded at him. He scratched his neck and cleared his throat. “Do you know how the invaders came to our shores?”
Usagi squinted at the starchy purple tubers she was cleaning, digging in her memory for all the rumors she’d heard over the years. “I—I’m not quite sure,” she stammered. “I’ve heard different things. Like the Blue Dragon, before coming over with his men, used sorcery to awaken a dragon atop Mount Jade that swallowed up the Twelve.”
Inu snorted
. “That’s a good one.”
“I’ve also heard that he’s half dragon and was sent from the Empire of Waya to conquer new lands,” Usagi offered.
“Half dragon, eh? I wonder which half!” Yunja cackled as he scaled a fish.
Usagi rubbed the last bit of dirt off a tuber. “The most likely sounding story was that the Blue Dragon led troops from the Empire of Hulagu and joined forces with the Wayani.”
The hermit stopped laughing. “Those cursed empires sent thousands of armed thugs,” Yunja said bitterly. “At least nine thousand troops in two flotillas, and all of them out for the blood of those with zodiac powers. I saw their savagery with my own eyes.”
Usagi gave him a sympathetic glance. “Maybe that’s why everyone says the Blue Dragon vanquished the Warriors in one fell swoop.” She brought the cleaned roots over to Nezu.
“A story spread by the Dragon himself, no doubt,” said Nezu, scowling. He began noisily chopping the tubers on a wooden slab.
“But it’s not what happened,” said Saru. “History is written by those who win the war, and for those who find themselves on the losing end—well, their truth is often buried with them.” She fiddled with the tie of her belt, rolling the stiff fabric between her fingers, before looking Usagi in the eye. “The man they call the Dragonlord was Druk, the 44th Dragon Warrior.”
Usagi blinked and wriggled a finger in one of her ears. Did she hear that right? “The Blue Dragon was one of the Twelve?”
Nezu stopped chopping. “I wasn’t at the shrine for long before he turned traitor, but he was one of the most fearsome warriors on Mount Jade. He succeeded the Tigress as the head of the Warrior Council.”
“I remember that announcement,” said Yunja. “It was momentous, for a Dragon Warrior hadn’t been head of the Twelve in nearly a hundred years.”
A shadow crept across Nezu’s face. “Not long after, the Shield of Concealment came down.” He resumed chopping, faster and louder.
“At the Summoning,” Usagi said slowly, “I remember the Tigress said something about a shield being created.” She felt befuddled, as if she’d been told ice was actually hot and fire was cold.
Saru nodded. “From the kingdom’s earliest days, neighboring nations wanted the secret behind what gave Midagians zodiac powers. Nearly eight hundred years ago, the emperor of Hulagu sent a thousand people to colonize the island and look for the cause, believing he’d find the secret of immortality and the formula for turning base metals into gold.”
“There’s no such thing, of course,” Inu interjected.
“Luckily the Twelve led the islanders in subduing the invaders,” said Nezu, “and the king decreed that no foreigners would ever be allowed onshore again.”
Saru rummaged through a foraging sack for some wild onions. “The Warrior Council decided that to protect the island from further invasion, a shield would be erected. Each Warrior commissioned an item from a master artisan in one of the twelve provinces, and brought it as a votive offering to the sacred slopes of Mount Jade.”
“To the Shrine of the Twelve,” Inu added, and patted the spot where he carried the mirror.
Usagi understood immediately. “The Treasures,” she breathed.
“The mountain goddess blessed a bond formed from the offerings,” Saru continued. “As long as the Circle of the Twelve and the bond of their objects were in place, Midaga would remain hidden from the outside world.”
“But when Druk became the head of the Twelve, he broke the bond,” said Inu. He frowned at the swamp hen he was plucking. “He did it by crushing his Treasure—a necklace known as the Jewels of Land and Sea. It’s no small thing to destroy a Treasure—it killed his Dragon Heir and triggered an earthquake and giant waves. Once the bond was broken and the Shield gone, Midaga was visible to the outside world. The invaders came not long after, swarming over the island like ants on a ripe peach.”
Or roaches, Usagi thought. She remembered the first time she’d seen them, clacking all over Goldentusk in carapaces of armor, stripping fields and storehouses bare. She hadn’t realized the great earthquake before the war had allowed their invasion.
“That was when a call to arms went out,” Yunja said. The hermit had finished cleaning the fish and was scratching one of his dogs behind its ears. “Anyone with zodiac powers was pressed into service, with the Warriors of the Zodiac leading the charge. I never knew about the Treasures, but I did know about the Shield. Any fisherman in my town who ventured past a line of whitecaps at sea was never seen again. After the invaders got in—well, I’m not a great fighter. What Midagian would be? We were like hothouse flowers under glass—we could hardly be expected to know how to defend ourselves. When refugees from the next province said the invaders were slaughtering anyone with a hint of zodiac powers, I turned tail and came up here.”
“Once, that sort of thing would have made me think you were a coward,” Inu said to the hermit. “But when the royal family was killed along with our masters, we did the same.” He plucked savagely at the last downy bits on the swamp hen carcass. “With our tails between our legs, we ran.”
“We didn’t run,” corrected Nezu. He stirred the chopped tubers into a pot on the cookfire. “We retreated to regroup. On strategic orders from the Tigress. We still have a mission to locate the Treasures and keep them out of the Blue Dragon’s hands. Now he might be adding those with zodiac powers to his strike force. But we’ll find a way to stop him. Gods’ guts, where’s your Warrior spirit?”
Inu stood abruptly. “It died along with everyone else.” He stalked out of the clearing, leaving a trail of feathers. One of Yunja’s dogs whined and followed.
Nezu started after him, dripping spoon in hand. “Oi!” he shouted. “You think everything happens only to you? I lost my master too, you know!”
“Let him go,” said Saru. “He just needs to be by himself for a while.” She retrieved the dressed swamp hen. “Talking about that time brings up difficult memories.”
“We all lost good friends—and family besides,” Nezu fumed. He returned to the pot, scowling. “You’d think he was the only one.”
Usagi’s heart ached. She could understand how Inu felt. Her throat tightened, thinking of her parents, deep in the turtleback grave back home. It made her want to run off too—run until she couldn’t feel anything anymore, until she couldn’t think anymore. She took a deep breath. It was all wrought by a man who’d been sworn to protect Midaga, and instead betrayed the kingdom and everyone in it. He now had Uma’s and Tora’s lives in his hands. The 44th Dragon Warrior. The Blue Dragon.
“So now what?” she asked.
“We keep to our mission,” said Saru firmly. “Bring any Treasures we find to Mount Jade—and now, younglings with talents too. That means you.”
Chapter 10
A Leap in the Lake
IN THE WEEK AT THE lake that followed, the Heirs and Usagi feverishly prepared for her ascent up Mount Jade. With each passing day, Usagi felt the distance between her and Uma growing, and her dread along with it. Her sister and Tora had surely reached the capital, and now that she really knew what the Blue Dragon was capable of doing, she wanted to go after them immediately. But her lack of skills made it hopeless.
She still hadn’t mastered landing gracefully after a rabbit leap. And while Usagi was glad that the hermit had shown her how to use her walking stick as a weapon, it meant a whole new slew of drills and instructions from the Heirs.
Saru spent an entire afternoon working with Usagi just on properly holding the stick. “Relax your grip. Hands down, elbows by your sides. The stick makes a flat line, see? Feet apart. That’s your beginning stance. You can do anything from flat line stance.”
Usagi frowned. “The stick’s just dangling. How am I supposed to attack like this?”
“You don’t,” said Saru. “First you learn to evade attack. In this position you can block blows easily before striking back. It looks harmless, but your opponent won’t be able to guess your next move.”
It turned out mastering something as simple as a stick was anything but simple. There were so many different ways to wield it: one-handed, two-handed, twisting overhead, wide grip, narrow hold, thrust grip. There were countless stances, positions, and movements. One foot forward, at attention. Feet wide, in a crouch. Down on a knee. One leg poised to kick.
You could whip the stick with a flick of the wrist, or swing it with the force of your whole body. You could strike something many steps away, or smack something a mere inch from your face. Usagi struggled to memorize all the different forms and grips, and practiced whenever and wherever she could.
“Cat! Butterfly! Snake! Crane!” she recited, arranging herself in the postures. Nezu teased her for mumbling the names of stances as she tossed and turned in her sleep. The Heirs would try to catch Usagi unawares and test her on the spot.
“Horse stance!” Inu would say as they were eating their supper. Usagi jumped into the pose, legs astride an invisible horse, still holding a half-eaten drumstick.
“Mantis!” Nezu shouted while Usagi was hauling newly washed clothes from the lake. Scrambling to get into position, Usagi threw up her arms, dropping fresh laundry into the mud. With a laugh, Nezu gathered up the tunics and helped rewash them.
“Phoenix pose!” Saru ordered as Usagi perched in a dragonberry tree picking fruit. Obediently Usagi demonstrated up in the tree’s branches, losing hold of her foraging sack and sending a shower of berries raining on Saru.
But learning to fight with a stick was nothing compared with trying to land her leap. When Usagi was living in the forest outside Goldentusk, her animal talent was something to hide and use only when necessary, so she’d take bounding jumps and hope for the best. But the Heirs made clear that to make it up Mount Jade, she needed to do more than just hope. They made her practice for hours, yet her whole body seemed to resist. The more she fell, the more she stiffened upon landing.
“That’s just your problem,” Saru told her after several days of watching her collapse in bruising tumbles along the shore. “You lock your knees, so there’s nowhere for the shock of the landing to go. You’re knocking yourself down, which will keep happening if you tense up like that.”
