Crane (24 page)
Authors: Jeff Stone
Tags: #General, #Speculative Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Juvenile Fiction, #Animals
Hok tore her bag off in a frenzy, whipping it around in front of her by the strap. Tsung lunged forward and swung wildly at Hok with the claw, blinded by blood streaming from his brow. The very tips of the sharp claw daggers connected with the flaming bag, and bits of dried herbs flew out of slices in the bag. The bits caught fire, raining down on Tsung's head, neck, and shoulders.
Tsung cried out and raised his hands to protect his bloody face, and Hok threw the bag upward and away with all her might. She ignored the few flaming herbs that singed her own bare arms and head and lowered her bony shoulder, driving it as hard as she could into Tsung's chest.
Tsung stumbled backward, and Hok stayed with
him. She swept his flailing legs out from under him and grabbed at the jade crane around his neck, catching it in her hand. She snapped it free and leaped backward.
Tsung hit the brick floor with a blood-curdling scream. Hok shrieked in surprise as Tsung's entire silk uniform went up in flames. Tsung writhed and twisted, then fell still.
Hok listened for the crowd's reaction, expecting a chorus of boos. Instead, she heard someone shout, “FIRE! THE CLUB IS ON FIRE!”
Hok looked up to see smoke rising on one side of the pit. Brilliant yellow flames first licked two tables, then three, then four in rapid succession.
“THE BAG IGNITED MY TABLECLOTH!” a man cried as he raced for the exit.
People throughout the fight club began to scream and scramble, and Hok swallowed hard as she quickly tied the jade crane's silk thread around her neck. She saw that the Ring of Fire flames circling her were still roaring strong. She would have to wait before she tried to save herself.
Hok glanced at Seh, and her thin eyebrows raised up. He was climbing down the rope!
“GET THE EMPEROR OUT OF HERE!” a soldier yelled from above, and Hok looked over to see the group at the Emperor's table scrambling up the tiered floor toward the side exit. Xie's towering shoulders led the way, and HaMo brought up the rear. On either side of the Emperor were Tonglong
and AnGangseh. Hok saw Tonglong look back at Seh and scowl.
“You did this!” LaoShu screamed. “It's all your fault!”
Hok looked up to see LaoShu standing at the railing, pointing at her. His head turned and stopped at the sight of Seh climbing down the rope. LaoShu headed for Seh.
“Seh!” Hok shouted. “Hurry! LaoShu is coming after you!”
“How much farther to the end of the rope?” Seh asked.
“One more body-length,” Hok shouted back. “The end of the rope is another two body-lengths from the floor.”
“Right,” Seh said. He slithered to the rope's end and dropped with a loud “Ooof!”
Hok looked up and saw LaoShu reach the rope. He began to shimmy down it.
“LaoShu is coming down the rope!” Hok shouted to Seh. “Get away! I'll be right there!”
Seh began to back up, and Hok looked at the fire around her. It was still too high to risk jumping over. She glanced quickly toward the exits and saw that the last of the crowd members were shoving their way outside. The fire up there had already reached the club walls, and the ornate tapestries were ablaze. Flames licked the long bolts of cloth all the way up to the wooden roof rafters, igniting them, too. The whole building would soon collapse.
“You've destroyed my beloved fight club!” LaoShu squealed in his high-pitched voice. “You've ruined me! You will not get out of here alive!”
LaoShu reached the end of the rope, and Hok saw him dig the toes of his shoes into irregularities in the pit wall. He shifted his weight to his legs and flung the rope skyward, then dropped to the pit floor.
Hok watched the rope sail up over the railing, landing across their table. The only way out for them now was the pit door, and it was more than likely locked. Hok looked at LaoShu and saw a large ring of keys looped through his sash. One of them was sure to open the door.
Hok took two small steps backward and decided she needed to act. She raced forward, leaping high over the remaining Ring of Fire. She felt heat on her feet and legs, but nothing ignited.
Hok hit the ground running and headed for Seh.
LaoShu began to rant and rave like a lunatic as he reached into the folds of his robe. “How dare you come into my club and do such a thing! I will teach you a lesson, girl! I will teach both of you!”
Hok reached Seh's side and gripped his arm, ignoring the snake that slithered wildly beneath his sleeve. “Brace yourself!” she said.
“Brace yourself, indeed!” LaoShu replied. He pulled a short
qiang
out of his robe and began to walk toward them.
Hok glanced around quickly. She saw the pit door directly behind her and Malao's Monkey Stick
on the floor within easy reach. She grabbed the stick and tried the door, but as she had feared, it was locked.
LaoShu laughed and raised his
qiang.
“You're mine!”
Hok gripped the Monkey Stick. She knew it would be no match against a
qiang,
but she would have to try. If she attacked LaoShu first, he would shoot her and perhaps Seh would at least have a chance of getting out of there alive. She needed to tell Seh about the keys.
“Seh,” she whispered, “LaoShu has a ring of—”
“Someone is coming,” Seh interrupted.
“What—”
The pit door suddenly flew open, crashing into Hok and Seh. Hok righted herself and turned to the doorway. In it stood the shrouded Cleaner in his stained garb.
“Close that door, trash collector!” LaoShu shouted at the man. “Or you'll be next.”
The Cleaner didn't budge. He removed his gloves and Hok saw that his fingernails were filed to sharp points.
LaoShu scowled and aimed his
qiang
at Hok.
“That idiot enjoys his job a little
too
much,” LaoShu said. “But I suppose there is no harm in letting him have his fun with you after I am through. No one is really quite sure what he does with all the dead bodies he takes out of here.”
LaoShu released a maniacal laugh, and Hok saw
his single outstretched finger begin to tighten beneath the
qiang.
Out of the corner of her eye, Hok saw the Cleaner begin to move, too. The filthy man whipped his body powerfully left and then right, like a dragon. At the same time, he reached one hand into his robe sleeve and snapped his wrist outward so fast, Hok could barely see it.
The end of an extraordinarily long chain whip lashed out, its sharp weighted tip slicing into LaoShu's hand. LaoShu shrieked and dropped the
qiang,
and it hit the ground with a loud
BANG!
“ARRRR!” LaoShu cried, falling over. Hok looked down and saw blood pouring from a large round hole in his ankle.
The chain whip began to circle overhead, and Seh said, “Ying! I can sense him! Where is he?”
“Over here,” the Cleaner replied. He shook his head violently and the shroud drifted off, revealing a carved dragon's face. It was Ying, without question.
“You!” LaoShu shouted at Ying. “What are
you
doing back in my club?”
“I came to say goodbye,” Ying hissed. He lashed out with the chain whip a second time, and the weighted tip wrapped itself around LaoShu's ring of keys. Ying yanked on the whip and the key ring tore free from LaoShu's sash, into Ying's hands. LaoShu's robe spilled open and Hok saw that he had another
qiang
strapped to his scrawny chest.
“Hurry,” Ying snapped at Hok from the doorway. “Inside the tunnel. You're coming with me.”
Hok hesitated.
Follow Ying?
she thought.
“Do it!” Ying said. “Before I slam this door closed on all three of you!”
Hok blinked and looked down at LaoShu. He was reaching for his second
qiang.
Ying began to close the door.
“Come on,” Hok said, and shoved Seh through the doorway.
Turn the page
for a preview
of the fifth book in
THE FIVE ANCESTORS …
EAGLE!
Excerpt copyright © 2008 by Jeffrey S. Stone.
Published by Random House Children's Books,
a division of Random House, Inc., New York
4348-YEAR OF THE TIGER
(1650 AD)
CHAPTER 1
BANG!
Sixteen-year-old Ying shoved his former sister, Hok, to the ground with all his might. He saw her eyes widen as a
qiang
ball whistled over her head. Ying's carved face twisted into an angry scowl. How many times was he going to have to save her life tonight? He turned and slammed the door closed on the burning arena of the Jinan Fight Club.
Inside the club's main tunnel, Ying's eyes quickly adjusted to the orange-yellow glow of torches lining the stone-walled corridor. He glanced down at Hok and, next to her, Seh. Through the smoke drifting in from under the door, Ying saw that Hok held a tiny jade crane in one hand and Malao's carved monkey
stick in the other. Both were trophies from her time in the pit arena.
In his own hands, Ying held his long chain whip and a ring of keys he'd just taken from LaoShu, the
qiang-
wielding fight-club owner.
LaoShu screamed suddenly on the other side of the door and Ying heard roof timbers crash down. The ground and walls shook, and Ying knew that LaoShu—the Rat—would give them no more trouble.
Ying spat and pivoted away from the door, ignoring the pain of cracked ribs and weeks-old bone bruises. The nagging injuries were his trophies, presented to him in prison by General Tsung almost a month before.
Ying wrapped his chain whip around his waist and groaned. He grabbed the collar of Hok's dress, yanking her to her feet.
“Move!” Ying hissed, pointing down the corridor. He looked at his former brother Seh. “You too.”
Hok took a step forward, but Seh didn't react. He just stared at Ying, blank-faced.
What is wrong with Seh?
Ying wondered. He reached out to slap some sense into him, but Hok grabbed his arm.
“Seh is blind,” Hok said. “Not deaf. He had an accident.”
“Blind?” Ying said. “Leave him, then.”
Hok shook her head. “No.”
Ying shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He spun around and walked quickly down the tunnel corridor, the rough cotton robe of his Pit Cleaner's disguise chafing his beaten flesh.
“Ying, wait,” Hok said. She took Seh by the arm and hurried after Ying.
Ying slowed for a moment, scanning the corridor. He saw no sign of guards ahead. They must have cleared out after the fire began.
Ying glanced back and saw Hok and Seh catching up. They looked like a pair of children whose dress-up tea party had ended in a fistfight. Hok's elegant silk dress was torn in several places and bloodstained from her fierce battle with General Tsung in the pit arena. Seh's simple gray robe was covered in dirt and splotches of who knows what else from rolling along the pit arena floor en route to this tunnel.
Ying began to walk again. Hok and Seh remained on his tail.
“Why are you helping us?” Hok soon asked in a low voice.
“You got me out of that prison back in Kaifeng,” Ying replied. “I am returning the favor.”
“You already met your end of our bargain,” Hok said. “You gave me information that helped me find Malao.”
Ying scoffed. “Maybe you would consider information an equal trade for someone's life, but I do
not. My injuries were too great to have survived much longer there. You saved my life, and I am honor-bound to return the favor.”
“But how did you know we would be here in Jinan, at the fight club?” Hok asked.
“I didn't come to Jinan looking for you,” Ying replied. “I came looking for Tonglong. I have a score to settle with him, and he frequents the fight clubs. I saw you and Seh standing in line outside with the Round Eye. I assumed you were up to something, and also assumed you would fail. I saw this as an opportunity to repay my debt.”
Ying rounded a corner. Ahead of him were rows of holding cells for prisoners who were scheduled to fight that night. All of the cells were empty, save two. Inside one sat Fu. Malao was in the other.
Fu roared when he saw Ying, but Malao began to shriek, “Ying! Ying!”
One of Malao's shoulders was bloodstained and he had a huge lump on the side of his head.
Ying ignored him.
“What are you doing here?” Malao asked. “Are those
keys
in your hand?”
Ying hurried past without acknowledging him. He picked up his pace.
“Ying, wait!” Malao wailed. “Come back!”
Ying glanced over his shoulder and saw Hok heading toward the cells with Seh.
“Hok! Hok!” Malao shrieked. “Help us!”
Fu roared again.
“Ying!” Hok said. “Please come back. Malao is hurt. We need those keys.”
“Sorry,” Ying said, turning away. “I need the keys for the exit door.”
“Let them out first,” Hok said.
“No,” Ying said. “There are too many keys on this ring. By the time I figure out which ones will open their cells, we could be dead from smoke or something else. I won't risk it.”
“I am not leaving here without Fu and Malao,” Hok said.
“Then my debt has been repaid,” Ying said. “Goodbye.”
Ying rounded another corner and began to run.
Foolish children,
he thought.
Don't know when to cut their losses.
Ying reached the end of the next passageway and came to a halt. The tunnel split in two directions. One way led to a set of stairs that went up to the fight club, while the other sloped gently upward toward a ground-level exit door. If he were to encounter any guards or others fleeing the burning fight club, this would be the place.
Ying squeezed the key ring tight so it wouldn't jingle, and peered around the corner. Smoke was streaming toward the exit. That meant the exit door was open, sucking the smoke toward it.
Ying listened closely.
Down the corridor in the direction of the exit, he heard footsteps. Someone coughed. “I can't believe we're being sent back in here,” a man said. “We should just wait by the exit door. It's the only way out for those kids.”
“I don't make the orders,” another man replied. “I only follow them. The captain said to make a quick sweep of the tunnels, then get out of here. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can get some fresh air. Men, prepare your
qiangs
“
Ying noted the unmistakable
click!
of a
qiang
mechanism being engaged, then another, and another. He might be able to get past a single soldier with a
qiang,
but not three. Especially in his weakened state. Unfortunately, he needed help.
Ying silently ran back toward the others, cursing his terrible luck. As he neared the prisoner cells, he could hear Malao sobbing. He also heard Fu pounding furiously against the bars.
Hok saw Ying first. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ying cut her off. “There are at least three men coming this way with
qiangs”
he said. “They intend to finish us. If I release Fu and Malao, will you follow my orders?”
Fu growled, but Malao said, “I'll do it, Ying! I'll do whatever you say! I'm a little dizzy and my shoulder is sore, but I can still fight. Get me out of here!”
“Hush!” Ying said. “Keep your voice down.” He stared hard at Fu. “What about you, Pussycat?”
Fu didn't reply.
Hok gave Fu an icy stare. “Be logical, Fu,” she said. “There isn't much time.”
“Fine,” Fu grumbled, locking eyes with Ying.
Ying fought back a smirk. Fu was irritating and immature, but at least he was always ready for a fight. Fu would go first.
Ying flipped through the ring of keys, selected one, and stuck it into Malao's cell door. The door swung open.
“Hey!” Malao whined. “You said you didn't know which key would open this door.”
“Lucky guess,” Ying snapped. He walked over to Fu's cell and unlocked it. As the door swung open, Fu snarled in Ying's face and muscled past.
“After you, Pussycat,” Ying said. “Put those feline instincts to use.”
Fu rushed forward.
Ying started after Fu, and Hok handed the monkey stick to Malao. Malao grinned excitedly. “Where did you get this?”
“From HaMo while I was inside the fight club,” Hok replied. “I'll tell you about it later. Are you sure you're okay?”
“I'm fine,” Malao said. He and Hok followed with Seh in between them.
Fu soon stopped, and Ying watched Fu's head tilt to one side. Fu's low-light eyesight was excellent, but his ears were even better. Fu sank to his haunches and held up four fingers.
Four guards,
Ying thought.
That's five against four. No problem.
He looked back at Hok, Seh, and Malao, and held up four fingers. Hok and Malao nodded back. Hok whispered the information into Seh's ear.
Ying sank to the ground and slipped the chain whip from around his waist. He gathered it up in one hand and shoved the key ring behind his sash. He slid over to Fu's side and mouthed five words: Angry Tiger Moves the Mountain.
Fu nodded once and compressed his body into a large ball. A heavy boot scraped the floor just ahead of them, and Fu sprang with a tremendous roar.
“Oooof!” the lead guard groaned as Fu slammed into his midsection. The guard's long
qiang
fired on impact with a characteristic
Click! … Fizz … BANG!,
the lead ball burying itself harmlessly in the wall of the tunnel. Fu hammered a tiger-claw fist into the man's jaw, silencing him.
“What's going on up there?” a guard called out.
No one offered a reply.
Ying eased his back against the tunnel's stone wall and saw the outline of a second guard creeping forward with his long
qiang
leveled at Fu's head.
“Crazy Monkey Swats the Fly!” Ying shouted,
and Malao responded by racing forward, swinging his monkey stick wildly. The guard saw Malao coming and shifted his arms to protect himself, but he was too slow. Malao leaped high into the air and brought the monkey stick down on the crown of the man's skull with a tremendous crack. The guard slumped to the ground, out cold, his finger still on the
qiang's
trigger.
Click! … Fizz … BANG!
The
qiang
fired, its firestone-tipped hammer igniting black powder. The lead ball shot forward and the unsupported weapon flew backward out of the unconscious man's hands. The
qiang
crashed against one wall of the tunnel, while the lead ball thudded into the opposite tunnel wall in a shower of debris.
Two down, two to go,
Ying thought.
A third guard stepped up through thickening smoke and froze at the sight of his unconscious comrades being stood over by two children. Ying took advantage of the man's hesitation and lashed out with his chain whip. The whip's weighted end wrapped itself around the end of the guard's
qiang
several times. Ying yanked the barrel of the
qiang
down and sideways and shouted, “Monkey Takes the High Road, Tiger Takes the Low!”
Fu and Malao attacked as one. Fu threw his shoulders into the man's knees at the same moment Malao sprang into the air and slammed his heels
into the man's cheekbones. The guard sailed backward, releasing his grip on the
qiang
in order to use his hands to break his fall. That proved to be unnecessary, as the fourth guard ended up breaking the third guard's fall for him.
Fu wrestled the
qiang
from the fourth guard's hands, and Malao put both guards to sleep with his monkey stick.
Ying unwrapped his chain whip from the end of the third guard's
qiang
and put the whip back around his waist. He pointed to the remaining unfired
qiang
Fu was holding and said, “Give that to me.”
Fu growled and took a step back.
Hok gave Fu a cold glance. “Do it, Fu,” she said.
Fu handed the
qiang
over.
Ying slung one of the
qiangs
over his shoulder and pulled the second one tight across his chest.
“Follow me,” Ying hissed. “No matter what happens, do not stop walking.”
“What are we going to—” Malao began.
“No questions!” Ying snapped. He turned and walked away. Behind him, he heard the others scramble and follow.
When Ying reached the bend where he'd first heard the guards, he turned the corner without breaking stride. The smoke was quite thick now, still flowing toward the exit door. Perfect. The exit door was still open. He would no longer need the keys.
Ying stopped and laid the key ring down, then quickly looked over the
qiangs.
The pans were full of powder and the flints were locked firmly in place at the end of the hammers. He could only hope that each had a lead ball rammed down its barrel.
Ying slung one of the
qiangs
across his back, raised the other to his shoulder, and headed for the exit door.