Crane (22 page)

Hok glanced down at Fu and saw that he stood over the Crippler like a tiger over its kill, growling. At the Emperor's table, Hok could see that most of the group members were clearly disappointed, especially Tsung. HaMo, on the other hand, sat alone at his table, laughing so hard that his massive chins jiggled.

Hok looked back down into the pit and saw the two armed guards enter it from the tunnel doorway. They raised their
qiangs,
pointing them directly at Fu.

“Time to go back to your cage,” one of the guards shouted. “Inside!”

Fu snarled, but did as ordered. He headed for the pit doorway.

“Seh!” Hok whispered. “They're taking Fu away!”

Seh laid one hand on his midsection. “Do you want to make our move?”

“No,” Charles said in a surprisingly forceful tone. “There's nothing we can do. I might be able to take care of those two guards with my two
qiangs,
but the Emperor has ten armed soldiers directly across the pit from us. If I start shooting, so will they. We'll have to figure out a different way to rescue Fu.”

Hok bit her lip. She knew that Charles was right. She watched Fu disappear into the tunnel.

“I wonder what that rat is up to,” Charles said.

Hok followed Charles’ gaze and saw LaoShu hurrying toward the main fight club entrance. Her eyes widened. In through the front door walked a petite woman dressed head to toe in black. The woman had
long, luxurious hair that was nearly as long as that of her companion—a man with a thick ponytail braid so lengthy, he had the end of it tucked in his sash.

Hok turned to Seh. “Your mother just entered with Tonglong!” she whispered. “It looks like LaoShu is escorting them toward the Emperor's table.”

Seh scowled. “I had a feeling they would show up. I'll keep my head down. It's not like I can see anything anyway.”

Hok patted Seh's arm and saw his snake tense beneath his sleeve.

Hok turned to watch Tonglong and AnGangseh. They reached the Emperor's table and dropped to their knees, kowtowing. Hok couldn't see the Emperor's face clearly, but she got the impression he was pleased to see them. Specifically, he seemed to fixate on AnGangseh, who appeared to also have the attention of every man in the crowd.

Tonglong and AnGangseh stood, and attendants brought chairs for them to sit at the Emperor's table. LaoShu stepped to the pit's edge and made an announcement.

“Ladies and gentlemen, you are not going to believe who just joined us! Please help me in extending a hearty welcome to yet
another
former Fight Club Grand Champion—Tonglong, the Mantis!”

Tonglong bowed to the crowd, and the people responded with a rousing round of cheers and applause.

Hok glanced at Seh. He was grinding his teeth.

The crowd began to calm down, and LaoShu spoke.

“Let's get back to the action, shall we? How about that last bout? That kid sure packs a punch! It was over a little too quickly for my taste, though. Perhaps this next one will go a little longer and be a bit more … colorful. That color being blood-red, of course! Put your hands together for a battle-hardened veteran. He's returning to the pit for the tenth consecutive year to try his luck at the championship one last time. Because we'd all like to see him achieve his goal, we've given him a few pointers, so to speak. Scar!”

The crowd cheered and several people stood as a large man rushed through the tunnel doorway. Hok thought he looked to be close to forty years old. He had thick scars up and down his hairy arms, and a long thin one across his pimpled neck. His hair was tied up in some sort of knot, and he held a spear in each hand. In his yellow crooked teeth was a long knife.

“Look at all those weapons!” Charles said. “Are you sure you don't want to bet, Seh? I don't see how that guy can lose.”

“You don't even know who his opponent is,” Seh said. “Stop pestering me. Don't you have any money with you?”

“I do have a few coins,” Charles said. “It's not much, but I suppose I could bet them—”

“You had better hurry up, then,” Hok said.

Charles stood and raced over to the bettors’ table.

Hok sighed and leaned toward Seh. “I don't understand why he is so excited about wagering.”

Seh shrugged.

“Guards, bring in the challenger!” LaoShu shouted. “It's time for a little monkey business!”

Hok gripped Seh's arm and looked toward the pit doorway. She saw the two guards throw Malao through it. Normally Malao would have landed in a tight tuck and roll. This time, however, he hit the brick floor like a tomato dropped from a treetop. The crowd roared with laughter.

“Was that Malao?” Seh said.

“Yes,” Hok replied. “Something's wrong.”

Hok watched Malao stand on wobbly knees and shake his head like he was trying to clear it. He looked around, wide-eyed. It was obvious that Malao had no idea where he was.

“Malao has been drugged!” Hok whispered. “I was in that same state of mind not too long ago. I recognize the signs. I would fade in and out of consciousness without warning. Malao won't be able to fight in that condition. We have to do something!”

“Are the two guards Charles mentioned still down there?” Seh asked.

“Yes—” Hok said.

“What about the soldiers?” Seh asked.

Hok glanced across the pit. “Still there.”

Seh clenched his fists. “Unfortunately, there isn't anything we can do right now. Let's wait and see how Malao does.”

“Seh,” Hok said, “Malao's opponent is holding two spears and a dagger. His name is
Scar.
He's seen his share of blade fights. Malao is weaponless—”

“Unless you want to borrow Charles’
qiangs
and jump into the pit, I don't know what else we can do,” Seh said. “Speaking of Charles, where is he?”

Hok glanced at the mob of people still crowded around the bettors’ table. She couldn't see Charles.

“I don't know where he is,” Hok said.

The gong sounded and Malao shrieked. Hok looked down in time to see Scar launch a spear at Malao.

Hok held her breath, then relaxed as Malao sprawled to the floor, narrowly avoiding the spear's glistening metal tip. Before he could get back up, though, Scar launched his other spear.

Malao shrieked again and rolled clumsily to one side. The second spear grazed his shoulder before rattling off the wall of the pit.

Malao howled and Hok saw a dark circle forming through his crimson robe.

“Malao is hurt!” Hok whispered to Seh. “Scar grazed his shoulder with a spear.”

“He'll be okay,” Seh said. “He's a clever fighter.”

“If anything else happens to him,” Hok said, “I'm going to help.”

Seh didn't reply.

Hok watched Malao curl into a tight ball and begin to shiver, his eyes closed. The drugs definitely seemed to be controlling him.

Scar took the knife from his teeth and raised it up. He began to walk slowly toward Malao.

The crowd began to chant, “SCAR! SCAR! SCAR!”

Hok stood. Enough was enough. She didn't care about Tonglong or AnGangseh or Tsung or anyone else. She needed to help Malao. “STOP!” Hok cried.

But no one listened. Scar continued forward.

Seh grabbed at Hok's arms, but she shrugged him off. She adjusted the bag strap across her neck and over one shoulder and jumped onto the table, grabbing one of the drinking bowls. She hurled it at Scar, striking him on the crown of his head.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” Hok shouted, but the words and the bowl had no impact. Scar was unstoppable. He positioned himself over Malao's quivering body.

The crowd continued to chant, “SCAR! SCAR! SCAR!”

Scar thrust the dagger down, and Hok screamed.

Malao screamed, too—loud enough to make Scar flinch in mid-swing. At the same time, Malao's hand lashed out, ramming a splintered piece of bamboo wager stick he'd been hiding into the side of Scar's calf.

Scar cursed and his leg buckled, his knife swing going wide. Malao twisted out of the path of the tottering giant, but Hok watched in horror as Scar twisted in the same direction as Malao. Scar let himself drop to the ground, knees first, and slammed into the side of Malao's wobbly head. Malao was unconscious before he even hit the brick floor.

A few of the crowd members gasped, but most of them burst into cheers. They began to chant, “FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM! FINISH HIM!”

Hok stared into the pit, wide-eyed, as Scar planted his knees firmly on either side of Malao's limp head and rose up, hoisting his knife high.

“NOOOOO!” Hok cried, and she leaped into the pit, landing on the bricks in a tight single roll. She hopped to her feet, and her turban shifted over her eyes. Hok tore it off and screamed at Scar, “What's wrong with you, trying to kill a little boy? Can't you see that he's been drugged! Fight me! Leave him alone!”

Scar turned and stared at Hok, looking confused and angry. He lowered the knife and stood.

Scar took a step toward Hok, the broken bamboo stick still protruding from his calf.

“Stand down, Scar!” LaoShu yelled from above. “We'll count this as a victory for you! Guards, get that crazy girl out of there!”

The crowd began to boo, and someone shouted, “Scar didn't get to finish! We want a proper ending!”

People began to throw all sorts of items into the pit—drinking bowls, wager sticks, even food. Hok covered her head with her arms.

“Everyone, please calm down!” LaoShu shouted. “No need to get too excited. The outcome of this bout is clear. If you bet on Scar, you've won. No need to lose control!”

“LaoShu!” someone shouted. “I may be able to help. …”

Hok looked up to see that it was Tsung speaking. He turned to face the pit and stared straight at her.

“If these people want a proper ending,” Tsung purred, “I'll give them one. Have the pit cleared out, but leave the girl to dance with me.”

H
ok looked away from Tsung and glanced up at LaoShu to see his reaction. LaoShu looked down at her, and his beady eyes widened.

“General Tsung!” LaoShu shouted. “Is that who I think it is?”

Tsung nodded, and LaoShu clapped his hands. Hok's heart began to race. She glanced at Tonglong and AnGangseh. They both started laughing.

Hok wanted to look over at Seh, but she knew it wouldn't do much good. He couldn't see her, and Charles was still off somewhere else. Instead, she looked back at LaoShu.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” LaoShu announced. “Did you just hear what I heard? Former Grand Champion
General Tsung is going to return to the pit! His opponent will be none other than Enemy of the State Number One! That girl in the pit may appear harmless, but looks can be deceiving. My sources tell me she is a superb fighter and personally responsible for the demise of the beloved Shaolin Temple. What do you think about that?”

The crowd began to boo, and someone shouted, “Kill her!”

LaoShu raised his hands. “Whoa! Not so fast. Wouldn't you like to wager on the outcome of this bout first? See the clerks at the bettors’ table for details. You have until the sound of the gong to place your bets. Attendants, to your stations!”

The crowd jumped to its feet, and people began to rush frantically toward the bettors’ table. Hok scanned the room and noticed an attendant running over to HaMo's table. HaMo dumped a huge bag of money on the table, and the attendant began to sift through it while counting out wager sticks.

Hok glanced quickly over at Seh. He sat alone, listening, and Charles still wasn't there.

Hok heard the pit door open and she turned to see the two armed guards standing beyond it. “Come on, Scar,” one of the men said. “You heard LaoShu.”

Scar scowled and glared at Hok, then threw something at her. It was the blood-soaked bamboo wager stick that had been in his calf. Hok jumped out of the way, and the stick clattered to the floor among the other refuse.

Scar limped through the doorway. As soon as he entered the tunnel, Hok saw the shrouded cleanup man coming from the other direction. The Cleaner shoved his way past Scar and headed for Malao.

The last thing Hok wanted was that filthy man touching her little brother. Who knows what kind of germs were crawling on him. She stepped between him and Malao, and one of the guards shouted, “Back up to the wall, girl! Let the man do his job.”

Hok glanced at the pit entrance and saw the two guards beyond the doorway. They both were staring down their
qiang
barrels at her.

Hok gritted her teeth and backed up nearly to the wall. What had she gotten herself into?

The Cleaner hoisted Malao over his shoulder and left the pit. Two more men came out of the tunnel with brooms and quickly swept up the broken wager sticks and other debris, then left.

Hok looked up at LaoShu and he nodded to her, a huge pointy-toothed grin on his face.

“Let the games begin!” LaoShu announced, and the gong sounded.

Tsung stood, and the crowd roared.

Tonglong stood, too, placing a hand on Tsung's shoulder. They spoke for a moment, then both looked at Hok and grinned. Hok watched as Tonglong removed something from around his neck and gave it to Tsung, who then retied it around his own neck.

People began to chant, “LEOPARD MONK! LEOPARD MONK! LEOPARD MONK!”