by Cindy Lin
Usagi peered through the shadows. The thick canopy of trees trembled, then parted, revealing a crack of sunlight. Sunbeams spilled across the ground in a path of light, weaving right through the trees like a winding golden thread. Unspooling before her, it glowed from the forest floor. She pointed. “There!”
The three Heirs exchanged glances and smiled. Nezu clapped her shoulder. “I knew you could do it.”
“Follow the path that you see,” Inu instructed. “We’ll meet you on the other side.”
“Other side of what?” asked Usagi, alarmed. “You aren’t coming with me?”
Saru shook her head. “We can’t. We each must make our own way in this forest. Those not blessed with zodiac powers have never been able to pass the Sea of Trees, in part because they could never find a way through.”
“This is good, Rabbit Girl,” Nezu encouraged. “Just keep your wits about you, and we’ll see you soon.”
With a wave and a few last words of support, each of the Heirs started off in a different direction. Inu raised his chin, sniffing the air, and loped away upon catching a scent. Saru climbed high into a nearby tree and then jumped to another, then another, until she’d disappeared into the canopy. Smoothing his whiskers, Nezu jogged off with a grin, whistling a jaunty tune. In the dim light, the three of them quickly melted away into the forest, leaving Usagi utterly alone.
Her chest tightened. The trees were forbiddingly massive, their wide trunks knotty with age. Rubbing the little rabbit at her neck, Usagi took a deep breath. The air smelled of crisp evergreen needles, sharp-smelling sap, and loamy earth. Haltingly, she ventured along the sun-splashed path she saw, holding her walking stick close.
As she moved farther into the forest, a strange sensation came over her, as if her ears had gone numb, or been separated from her body. Usagi gave her head a shake. Nezu’s whistling had disappeared and she couldn’t hear any of the Heirs moving through the forest. She couldn’t even hear her own feet shuffling across the thickly carpeted ground. The air was still. Not a single bird, frog, or insect could be heard.
She’d never been around such oppressive quiet. Just the opposite. For years, she’d heard everything, both near and far, and she’d quickly learned to focus on what she needed to, ignoring the rest. But now Usagi heard absolutely . . . nothing. Not even her own breathing, though her chest rose and fell as she sucked air into her lungs. She’d grown used to hearing her own heartbeat, but its steady presence was gone. Putting a shaking hand to her heart, she felt it pounding as if it were about to explode. But it was soundless.
Usagi tried calling out to the others, but her voice failed her. The forest swallowed every bit of noise. Disoriented, her vision began to swim and Usagi feared she might faint.
Steady, she told herself. She just had to follow the path. She couldn’t turn back now.
Steady. The sooner she got through the Sea of Trees, the sooner she would pass through this unnerving quiet. Usagi broke into a run, keeping her eyes on the line of sunlight, clutching her bamboo pole so hard her knuckles were white.
Someone or some thing grabbed at her, while something rough and scratchy smacked her across the forehead. Usagi glanced up and froze at the sight of a hairy hand with claws. A flash of light struck her eyes, half blinding her. The stories about beasts and monsters were true! With no sound to guide her, she had no idea how large these beasts were—or how many.
Ducking and bobbing, Usagi tried to cover her head. Hairy clawed arms swooped down, trying to pluck her up from the forest floor, all in utter silence. In a burst of terror, Usagi screamed, but the sound died in her throat.
Use your stick.
Frantic, she whipped it at her attackers, cracking the bamboo pole hard against clawed, grabbing hands. She spun around and swung with all her might, batting them away as they came for her again. She could not let them take her. She would not go the way of the invaders. Usagi gritted her teeth and thrashed viciously at the arms—until one flew off and landed at her feet.
Uncomprehending, she gawked at a needle-covered branch on the ground.
She looked up to see a battered overhang of dragon spruce. She put a hand to her forehead, and felt some spruce needles in her hair.
There were no monsters. It hadn’t been hairy clawed arms trying to snatch her off the path. She’d run into some low-hanging branches.
Panting, Usagi willed the fog of fear to blow away. This was just a forest, and these were just trees. How did she not see it? She felt foolish. Tentatively, she rested her hand against the rough bark of the ancient spruce, its branches torn and clipped by Usagi’s stickfighting blows. The broken arms of the tree wept glistening drops of sap. “Sorry,” she mouthed, still unable to find her voice.
The tree pulsed beneath her palm, as if it had a heartbeat, and a jolt of recognition seemed to flicker between them. Though the air was still and breezeless, the tree swayed gently, its branches quivering. Usagi felt a vibration, a tingle running from the tree into her fingers—as if it were trying to communicate. She pressed back against the tree, and gasped as the buzzing sensation ran up her arm and through her entire body. It wasn’t painful, but it was strange. Her fingers felt as if they were sinking into the very fiber of the tree itself. Usagi glanced up to see the broken branches lengthening, new growth extending from the torn limbs until they looked whole again.
Stunned, Usagi withdrew her hand from the tree, and the tingling in her arm subsided. She stared at her hand and at the freshly grown branches. What was happening? Could she possibly have a gift with an element after all? Excitement coursed through her. Resting her cheek against the trunk of the tree, she silently thanked it before continuing on her way. The massive trees lining her sunlit path no longer seemed threatening, and she touched several more, feeling them pulse under her touch. Usagi got a charge from each one, as if they were offering her strength to keep going. Soon she was almost skipping along the path of light, stopping from time to time to touch a tree and marvel at its response.
As the trees around her grew smaller, the path’s bright golden glow dimmed, and the bubble of silence around Usagi dissipated. Her slippers began to squeak with each step, and she could hear her own pounding heartbeat returning to normal. When a cloud of gnats buzzed loudly by her head, she yelped with surprise, then giggled in relief. Her ears were back.
They pricked at the echo of several voices through the forest. The Heirs! Usagi ran eagerly toward the sound of their chatter.
By the time she entered a small clearing at the base of the mountain, the sun had dipped below the trees and the sky was a deeper shade of blue. The Heirs were sitting around a pot of bubbling porridge on a cookfire. Not even the first glimpse of Mount Jade was as wonderful as seeing them.
“You made it!” Nezu crowed.
“How did it go?” asked Saru.
With a grin, Usagi shrugged off her pack. “For a while I thought I might never see you again.”
Inu leaned forward. “What happened in there?”
“I’m not exactly sure.” Picking dragon spruce needles from her hair, Usagi told the others how soundless it was in the ancient forest, and how she’d fought what she thought was an attacking beast, only to find that it was a tree.
“That’s a classic test—seeing how you handle yourself by taking away one of your talents.” Inu nodded sagely. “People have been scared out of their wits here. But it’s only because they let their fears take over.”
“It almost happened to me,” Usagi admitted. “But when I saw that I’d hurt the tree, I touched it—and then, something amazing happened. I felt a heartbeat, or something like it. Which sounds strange, but the tree felt so alive. Somehow we were talking to each other. Even stranger, the broken branches started to grow back. I’ve never done anything like that before.” She examined her hand, which looked no different.
“You’ve discovered an elemental gift. It’s the power of the mountain, bringing out what was in you all along,” said Saru, her pale face alight
. “It’s why the main Shrine of the Twelve is here, and why the Heirs are trained here. This is wonderful, Usagi.”
“Spirits be praised,” Nezu said, looking pleased. He handed her a bowl of porridge. “Now eat up. You got through the first challenge, but more will come.”
Laughing, Saru swatted at Nezu. “Let the girl enjoy her victory!” She then told Usagi to rest so she could tackle the next legs of the ascent in the light of day.
Usagi couldn’t argue with that. If she’d had Tora’s keen night vision, she might have disagreed, but she found herself suddenly very tired. She gulped down the porridge, then laid out her bedroll, quickly falling asleep under the sky as it frosted over with stars.
At dawn, the Heirs led Usagi to the base of the mountain. The ground pitched steeply and the trees grew at an angle. They scrambled over slumps of jagged green stone till they reached a crossroads.
“Which way, Usagi?” Saru pointed between two paths. They looked identical but extended in completely opposite directions around the mountain. It was impossible to see where either of them led.
Usagi bit her lip. “You’re asking me?”
“When you went into the Sea of Trees, you had to find a way through, and were met by a challenge,” Saru explained. “Now, by the choices you make, you’ll get to the next assessment of your powers.”
“Whichever path you choose will eventually take you to another challenge,” Inu added. “The Warriors have created quite a few over the centuries. Don’t be afraid of making the wrong choice, for there isn’t one.”
Usagi considered, then shrugged. “To the left is as good as any.” As they climbed, the path narrowed to a winding ledge that hugged the mountain and forced them into single file. Along a particularly perilous-looking section, Usagi clung to the trunk of a nearby tree growing above the ledge. She felt it pulse under her touch, just as she’d felt in the Sea of Trees. Fascinated, she began to lay her hands on tree trunks along the path to gauge their responses. Some shivered or swayed, while one tree vigorously waved its branches. “Look!” Usagi said with glee.
“Are you sure that’s not the breeze?” Nezu teased, wetting a finger and putting it in the air.
Usagi stuck out her tongue. They reached another fork in their path, a tall fir tree standing sentry over the junction.
She couldn’t say how the idea occurred to her. Usagi placed her palm against the trunk of the fir tree and closed her eyes. Which way? she asked.
With a creaking groan, the tree leaned its pointed tip deeply to the right, and Inu’s dark eyes widened. “Impressive.”
With a triumphant smile, Usagi nodded in the direction suggested by the tree, and they proceeded up a thin strip of dirt that snaked back and forth across a steep slope. They came across several more junctures in their path, and each time Usagi had to choose. Whenever a tree was nearby, she would touch it for guidance, selecting whatever direction the tree branches waved.
At last they reached a track carved into the mountain, a deep groove winding up a smooth rock slope in a series of swooping switchbacks. Twelve colossal round stones sat in the turns like giant gray-green marbles. Nezu let out a low whistle. “The Bashing Boulders!”
“Bashing Boulders?” Usagi repeated. “That doesn’t sound promising.”
“Maybe I misspoke about no wrong choices,” Inu muttered.
Saru shot a glare at Inu. “This particular challenge was designed by the 14th Snake Warrior. You have to go through this track and find a way to get around the stones.”
“More like avoid the stones,” Inu corrected. “If not . . . well, try not to look at the bloodstains.”
Alarmed, Usagi goggled at the twisting trench and its twelve turns. She couldn’t tell if there were any traces of blood, but the enormous stone spheres blocking each turn were too round and slick to climb.
Pressing her lips together, Saru pointedly ignored Inu. “It won’t be easy, but challenges aren’t supposed to be.”
Usagi stalled for time. “Are you going this way too?”
“Don’t worry about us,” said Saru. “Just get through the boulder course.”
Inu’s gaze was serious. “Keep alert and be quick out there. Remember, your talents are being tested.”
She nodded, clutching her stick close. Usagi was going to have to use her rabbit leap. If only she’d had more time back at the lake to practice landing. With a deep breath, she jumped into the waist-deep trench. Halfway toward the first switchback, her ears caught a low rumble that echoed off the slick stone slope. The giant rocks sitting in the turns all began to roll, picking up speed with an earthshaking rattle.
Usagi screamed and scurried downhill. With a rolling boulder hard on her heels, she vaulted out of the trench. The boulder reached the end of the carved channel, stopping with a groaning crunch. Then with a rocky clatter, it reversed course, spinning back up the track—until it smashed into another sphere on its way down. Usagi winced at the sound. The crash sent the two spheres reeling in opposite directions. Each time a boulder hit another sphere in its path, it would change course and tumble back the way it came, only to bang into another and alter its direction yet again. Wide-eyed, Usagi watched the twelve giant spheres rolling up and down all along the snaking trench, colliding back and forth in a thunderous cacophony.
Horrified, she whirled upon the three Heirs. “I’ll be crushed!”
Inu and Saru exchanged glances. Folding his arms, Inu shook his head. “I was afraid of this.”
“You’re not helping,” Saru scolded. She steered Usagi back to face the winding track and its rumbling stones in perpetual motion. “You have a choice, Usagi. Either use your talents and go through the course the best you can, or stop here and leave the mountain.”
“Go,” Nezu urged. “I’ve seen your rabbit leap. You can do this.”
Usagi stared at the rolling spheres. “They’re certainly bashing,” she muttered. Steeling herself, she waited until the first sphere rolled away from the beginning of the course and jumped back into the trench. She jogged after the stone, gripping her stick with sweaty palms. There was a series of loud crashes as the stones slammed together, one pair after another, in a cascading relay. The stone she followed changed course and clattered toward her. Crouching low, she sprang straight into the air and let the boulder rumble beneath her. Landing back a little too hard, she skidded onto her bottom. “Blasted blisters,” she swore. She scrambled to her feet. She’d barely escaped being squashed like a bug! But maybe Nezu was right. Even if her landing wasn’t perfect, she could leap these stones. Rounding the first turn, Usagi ran straight after the second sphere.
The boulders crashed and reversed direction, and the one Usagi was chasing tumbled toward her, bearing down fast. She vaulted up and over it, and stumbled only slightly upon landing. Bend the knees, she reminded herself, then laughed out loud. She was past the second stone. Ten more to go.
She sprinted for the next rolling sphere, listening and counting to herself. At the sound of each collision, Usagi began counting anew, pacing the time it took between crashes and calculating how far up the path she could run before having to jump. By the fourth boulder she thought she detected a pattern: after three crashes in quick succession, she could take twelve strides and a leap before the collisions started again. But by the sixth rock she almost lost her stick when she was forced to jump after just ten steps. She barely got over, scraping the sphere with her bamboo pole as it spun past. Spitting spirits. The stones were moving faster and faster, and the pattern had changed. Forget counting.
With her rabbit hearing she tracked a boulder coming up behind, and waited till it was nearly upon her before leaping. She cleared it and landed safely as it rumbled up the incline. When it crashed into another stone seconds later and rolled back down, she sprang again and landed neatly on her feet. Usagi let out a little whoop, feeling a rush of excitement, and ran faster. She listened for the stones approaching behind her, and watched the ones looming before her. The pace picked up, and
sometimes she had to jump the same rock multiple times. But Usagi was grinning. Dodging these rolling rocks was . . . fun. With each successful pass over a boulder, her grin grew wider.
Finally, she bounded over the last of the spheres and made it to the top of the switchbacks. She raised her stick and did a little dance. The others cheered from the base of the run, Nezu hopping about and pumping his fists.
To her surprise, the stones rumbled back to their initial positions and came to a stop. They remained silently fixed in place as the Heirs came up a narrow channel Usagi hadn’t noticed, cut along the side of the course. “Are the boulders only for bashing newcomers?” she called.
“Pretty much,” Nezu shouted back.
When they joined her at the top, Inu clapped Usagi’s shoulder. “Well done!”
“Thanks,” she beamed.
They set off along a dirt path that led away from the Bashing Boulders. It was wide enough to walk two abreast, at a far gentler grade than any of the trails they’d climbed earlier. Usagi was tired but proud. She’d gotten through two challenges. There might be more, but what she’d managed so far surprised even herself. Hope bloomed in her chest. She would be at the shrine soon. What would the Tigress be like? What might the last Warrior of the Zodiac teach her? Would there be anything besides hard dried fish and thin porridge to eat? As she wondered about the possibilities, she noticed a persistent roar in the distance, like the thunder of a great storm.
“Do you hear that?” she asked Nezu. He frowned and shook his head.
Uneasily, Usagi cupped a hand behind her ear. The roar grew louder. Whatever it was, it was getting closer. Her breath caught. “It sounds like a thousand horses galloping. The Blue Dragon’s mounted Guard can’t get up here, can they?”
Chapter 12
The Tigress
THE RUMBLING ROAR IN USAGI’S ears grew louder as she and the Heirs climbed farther up the mountain. She feared that Dragonstrikers were approaching Mount Jade on horseback, but Nezu scoffed. “The Blue Dragon’s men can’t get up here, especially on horses. Remember? They couldn’t even get past the Sea of Trees.”
