The glow of the torches burned against Kang’s face, highlighting the beauty and power contained within his body. A ring of red framed his beautiful dark eyes, and a map of veins spread over his blood-soaked forehead. His arms lashed out with supernatural speed, but exhaustion and wounds made his moves clumsy.
Mulan swiped her blade across Yang’s neck, slicing through his armour but failing to carve its way through the flesh beneath. A scowl stretched over Yang’s face as his body spun through the air, striking her in the chest with a powerful kick.
The force of it sent all the breath flying out of her chest as she flew straight over the pool, crashing backwards into the wall on the opposite side. The jian fell to the floor. Pain erupted throughout her body, gliding down every vein, every nerve ending, as she slid to the ground, her vision momentarily turning to black.
Blinking to clear the darkness from her sight, the blurry figures of Kang and his brother continued to fight on the other side of the pool. Kang’s movements slowed and the sweat dripped from his exhausted face.
Jumping over a headless corpse, Yang spun in the air, bringing his sword down. Kang tried to hold onto his weapon, but weakness slipped into his hand. His moves slowed further, his strikes unsteady.
Yang ducked Kang’s blade as he went past and swept his legs out from under him. A flash of silver glinted in the torchlight, illuminating the cruel mask on Yang’s face.
Vision clearing, Mulan’s breath caught in her throat as she watched him thrust his sword in the space between Kang’s shoulder blades. Arching his back at a sickening angle and the pain erupting over his face, his eyes locked with hers for an instant. Any breath she contained in her lungs dissipated from her body as she screamed his name.
Hot tears spilled from the corners of her eyes. Kang’s mouth formed a word, but she couldn’t hear it over the screaming that poured like liquid grief from her mouth.
A second later, he slumped to the ground, face forward and motionless, the blade sticking out of him like a skewer through a piece of meat.
Yang dropped the sword beside his brother’s body, complete satisfaction spreading over the lines of his cold, handsome face. “And thus, the great dragon prince of Pingcheng falls to the might of his godly brother.” Wiping his brow with his sleeve, he heaved a heavy sigh. “So long, dear Kang.”
Turning away, Yang walked towards the stone doors, now only six inches apart and groaning under the immense pressure of several tonnes of heavy stone.
Tears distorting her vision, Mulan shakily rose to her feet, her hands using the wall to steady herself. Staggering forward, she stumbled over dead bodies and fallen weapons, slipping on blood. She told herself no, that Kang couldn’t be dead, not after everything they’d been through, what they’d faced, but the blood pouring around his body couldn’t tell lies.
Mulan dropped to her knees. With trembling fingers, she touched his face. “Please don’t be dead,” she whispered, the grief in her heart twisting and plunging further in. Running her hands over the lines of his face, she willed the gods and the spirits not to let it be true.
But the spirits refused to lie to her.
Kang was dead.
“No!” she screamed, the pain torn from her throat ripping through the air. She tried to swallow her heart back down, but it remained lodged in her throat, preventing her from breathing.
The tears fell thick and fast. They spilled into Kang’s blood, trickling over his crimson soaked clothes and onto the cold ground where he lay. Fisting balls of wet material in her hands, Mulan’s screams tore through her soul, ripping it to shreds.
“Soon the power of the gods will be mine.” Yang’s voice turned Mulan’s head. Still standing in front of the doors, he spread his arms outwards as if appeasing himself to an invisible crowd. “I will cleanse both worlds in blood and from the ashes will arise a new order. The reign of the Dark Emperor is finally upon us.”
Anger boiled alongside grief within Mulan’s veins. Stifling back a sob, her fingers clasped the hilt of the crimson edged blade beside Kang’s body. Slowly, from her kneeling position on the floor, she raised it to the height of her shoulder, pulled her arm back, and hurled it in Yang’s direction.
The blade shot through the air like a bolt of lightning, slicing through his upper arm. Blood sprayed the air red. Pain-filled cries tore from his mouth. Regret sliced through her.
She’d missed that stone-cold heart of his by several inches. Damn it.
“You fucking little bitch,” Yang spat, his mouth widening into a cruel snarl as he clamped a hand over the wound. “I’m going to kill you for that.”
Anger lined his limbs as he strode towards her, his eyes blazing with rage.
Within seconds his fist clenched her throat and a dagger materialised within his hand. Fear twisted her gut as he plunged the blade within her abdomen. Pain seared her from within, shooting down every tendon, every nerve.
A silent scream tore from her lips. Slumping forward slightly, her fingers stretched wide, as if she could force the pain out like magic. Her body seemed unable to take its own weight and she slumped against the hard contours of Yang’s armoured body, her hands staining the leather with red blood before they fell to her sides.
His dark eyes glanced down in disgust. “It’s not honourable to touch a god.”
Something hard pressed against her hand. With shaky fingers, she reached for the dagger she’d somehow forgotten. “You’re not a god,” she whispered. Mustering all the strength in her body, she snapped the dagger off the cord and shoved it up. “And you know nothing of honour.”
Blood splashed across her face in a hot liquid rush as the blade sank through the soft flesh beneath his jaw, slicing through muscle and tendon and into the lower parts of his brain. Blood bubbled at the corners of his mouth. Shock blazed alongside exquisite agony within his dark eyes as he stared down at Mulan, unable to grasp what had just happened.
Mulan twisted the blade. Shudders wracked Yang’s body, the smacking of his feet on the slick floor echoing together with nauseating grasps. Yanking the blade free, his body tumbled to her feet, soaking her boots scarlet.
Pain rippled through her once more. Mulan glanced down. Releasing the dagger in her hand, she wrapped trembling fingers around the hilt of the one embedded in her abdomen. Bracing herself, she yanked it out and sent it tumbling to the floor next to the other. Blood oozed from the wound, the pain stealing her breath away. But it had missed any vital organs. She clamped a hand over it. Not that it mattered. Not when Kang lay dead.
Sucking in one breath after another, her eyes turned to Kang’s motionless form. Blinded by tears, she stumbled to the ground and crawled over where he lay.
Beneath her fingers, his body remained warm. How could she survive Yang and his grotesque plans only to lose the man she loved? It didn’t seem fair.
From the corner of her eye, the glimmer of silver caught her attention. Sniffing, an idea suddenly sprang into her mind.
I have to try.
Inhaling deeply, she clasped thick fistfuls of Kang’s clothes in her hand and began pulling. Darkness swam through her veins with each tug, her muscles screaming with exquisite agony. But she refused to stop.
She’d never stop.
Not when it came to Kang.
Slowly, the edges of the pool lay within arm’s reach. Barely an inch remained, but the energy that infused the air above it remained strong. Taking care not to touch the water herself, Mulan repositioned herself by Kang’s side and gave one last push.
The silver water enveloped him like a mother with her newborn son. It seeped into his clothes, into his skin. Energy surged and swept through the air and a wave of magic flowed through the chamber, stealing Mulan’s breath away.
Panic tore through her veins a second later. What if it didn’t work and Kang remained dead? Tears spilled over the corners of her eyes, burning rivers down her cheeks.
The waters vanished beneath Kang’s body, leaving the pool dry and barren. Th
e magic infusing the air settled and faded, until not a trace of it could be felt.
Kang remained still.
It hadn’t worked.
An icy hand curled around her heart, squeezing it tight. Slowly, she crawled over to him and pulled his head onto her lap. “Please don’t leave me,” she whispered, sorrow breaking her voice. “I love you. Don’t make me suffer in this world without you.” Bending her head, she allowed her grief to spill around her.
“You can’t get rid of me just yet.”
The croaky words were just a whisper, but they rang through Mulan’s ears like thunder. Lifting her head, she stared down, her eyes bulging so far out of her sockets they hurt. “Kang?” she whispered, her voice coated in disbelief.
Dark eyes stared up at her. The purple bruises that had stretched over his face had faded, leaving only smooth, unblemished skin. A fist knotted itself in her hair and pulled her down. Hot lips moved against hers, and she melted against that kiss.
When they pulled away, Kang rolled to his side and onto his knees. His eyes dropped to her side. “How bad is it?” he asked, concern thick in his voice.
Mulan winced as he helped her to stand. “I’ve had worse.”
Carefully, they made their way to the doors. More light spilled between the gap, now wide enough for a single person to walk through. White light wrapped around them like a cloak, a cool breeze wafting over their flushed faces.
Beyond the doors and down the tunnel lay the realm of the gods. Nuwa and Fuxi, the originators of each tribe, each people the country had ever been home to, lay at the end. Enough power to shake the world, the very heavens themselves, lay in grasp for anyone strong enough to take it.
Looking into the bright abyss, Mulan felt no urge to walk down that path. Hers remained here, next to Kang and her friends.
“You know what to do.” Kang’s voice was gentle but lined with steely fortitude. Retrieving a sword from the floor, he handed it to Mulan. “You should be the one to do it.”
Inhaling deeply, Mulan took the weapon. Biting down on her lip against the pain, she positioned herself close to the door where the seal lay. Torchlight glinted off its smooth bright surface. Slowly, she raised the sword to shoulder height and thrust forward. The metal sank into the jade, cutting it in half with ease.
Energy pulsed in the air. Anxiety jolted down her spine as she stepped back, waiting for something to happen. The two pieces of the seal fell to the ground with a clang. Groans of stone echoed through the chamber. Sluggishly, the doors began to close.
Wrapping one arm against her side, Mulan sank into the warmth of his body, their eyes never leaving the doors. Several minutes passed before they finally closed, shutting away the bright light of the heavens away for good.
Without saying a word, Kang led them through the circular doorway and down the tunnels. Waves of pain flowed through her side with every step, but Mulan didn’t care.
A little pain was a good price to pay when Heaven and Earth were at stake.
The warmth of the sun enveloped her as soon as they stepped through the mouth of the cave. Clouds still stretched their dark fingers across the sky, and it wouldn’t be long before night fell, yet the fresh air was heavenly.
More than a dozen horses grazed nearby, saddle bags attached to their sides. Whatever Ziying and Yang had planned, they’d come fully prepared. Mulan swept her gaze over the cave. “What do we do now?” she asked.
Kang heaved a heavy side. “Make sure no one ever finds this place again.” Without saying another word, he began rummaging through the saddle bags, his face stretching into a grin a few minutes later.
Black powder.
The bags were full of it. Maybe Yang had prepared to try an alternative way to open the doors if we hadn’t found the seal, Mulan wondered, watching Kang pour several bags of the powder within the gaping mouth of the cave. Back home, Digan had been fascinated with the stuff, although he’d never shown any real talent with it. A small pinch of the powder contained the power to blow an entire house to pieces. Throughout the centuries, victory came to those who wielded it.
Urging her to stand far away, Kang fashioned a makeshift torch from a broken branch and a strip of material taken from the ripped hem of his clothes. A quick strike of flint, and it blazed to life. He tossed it into the cave.
The mountain shuddered beneath the force of the black powder. Chunks of rocks hurtled to the ground, slinging stone fragments everywhere like flying daggers. Mulan’s breath caught in her throat as ragged rocks plummeted to the ground, sealing the entrance behind a thick wall of stone.
As the dust cleared, the nearby vines began to creep along the rock. They twirled and twisted, sliding upwards until they covered all traces of the blocked cave entrance. Finally, they lay still. If anyone passed, they’d never guess what lay beyond.
Mulan sighed. Whatever happened now, whatever monsters, human or other, stood in their path lay within the kingdom’s hands.
Civilizations would rise, civilizations would fall. The power of the heavens was never meant for humans.
It never would.
Epilogue
The sounds of dogs yapping wafted alongside the familiar smell of smoke and roasted chicken. Above her head, the sun shed just enough light to be on the bright side of dim. The wind blew cold. Winter’s icy hand approached fast.
Mulan’s stomach churned with mixed emotions as she stood at the front door of her parent’s home. Fear, dread, excitement, more fear. How long had she’d been gone? Would they be pleased to see her or turn her away in shame?
“You can do this,” she whispered, closing her eyes and reminding herself of everything she’d been through. Facing monsters suddenly seemed so much easier than her family. Inhaling deeply, she brought her arm up and banged on the door.
The sounds of feet and voices floated through the air. Seconds later, the door creaked open, revealing a startled familiar face.
“Mulan!”
Before she could speak, her mother’s arms wrapped around her shoulders, pressing her tight against her body. Returning the embrace, Mulan’s heart swelled, threatening to break free of her ribcage as tears spilled from both their eyes.
Reluctantly, Chou Bosi stepped away. Behind her waddled her baby brother. His pudgy arms reached up. In the time she’d been gone, he’d shot up at least an inch. Leaning down, Mulan swept him into her arms, planting kisses all over his face and sending him into fits of giggles.
“Don’t just stand there, come in, come in,” Chou Bosi said, standing to one side. As her eyes fell onto the figure beside her daughter, she frowned.
Mulan smiled. “Mother, this is Ao Kang.”
Kang presented her with a bow. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madam Chou.”
Blinking, Chou Bosi gestured for them to enter. Mulan glanced around, taking in the familiar sight. The same silk cushions sat around the table; vases of flowers sat in the corners as they did every time autumn came around. Wooden toys Mohuai would play with and then discard a few minutes later lay sprawled around the room. She found familiarity in every inch, yet everything seemed different.
Finally plucking up the courage, Mulan asked the question she needed to know. “Where’s Father?”
Sorrow shone within her mother’s eyes and her shoulders slumped. “Your father died not long after you left.”
Grief twisted a knife within Mulan’s guts. “What?”
Chou Bosi stepped forward and took her daughter’s hands in hers. “He went peacefully, in his sleep.” Mulan bent her head, her heart filling with pain. “He wanted you to know that he forgave you for running away. He never wanted you to be unhappy, just safe and secure. He loved you.”
A single hot tear fell from her eyes as she heard the truth in her mother’s words. “I wish I had been here for him,” she whispered. “I wanted to be a good daughter, that’s why I left. I didn’t want him to die on the road to war. He should’ve been here, surrounded by his family.”
“And he w
as.” Mulan’s mother placed a finger beneath her daughter’s chin, raising her head. “Like all fathers, he wanted what was best for you. If your path to happiness led down a different route than the one the spirits chose, he said, then it didn’t matter in the end. All he wanted was for you to be happy. Are you?”
Sniffing, Mulan nodded, offering her mother a smile. “I am.”
Chou Bosi returned her smile. “Good. Now, do you want to introduce me to this rather handsome man?”
Kang stepped forward. Although they’d been riding for several weeks, their new clothes were clean enough and all their wounds healed. “Madam Chou, in light of your husband’s death, I formally ask your blessing. Mulan and I wish to wed.”
Chou Bosi’s dark brows rose heavenwards. “Oh, you do?” She flicked an amused glance in her daughter’s direction before returning to him. “You think you can handle her?”
The corners of Kang’s mouth tugged upwards. “Not at all, but I love her with every beat of my heart. There is no one in heaven or on earth that I’d rather be with.”
A long pause stretched within the room before Chou Bosi finally nodded. “You have my blessing.”
“And I’ll perform the wedding.”
Yi Ligui’s voice resonated through the air. Shock stretched across Mulan’s face as the old shaman hobbled through the doorway, leaning against her twisted staff for support. “What are you doing here?” she asked in disbelief.
The old woman laughed, her dark eyes bright. “The spirits informed me the dragon and the sword would arrive today. It’s taken me a while, but I managed to get here right on time. Now, someone help me to sit and pour me some wine. Riding at my age is thirsty work.”
Kang and Chou Bosi hurried to Yi Ligui’s side, helping her to the nearby table and settling her on a mountain of cushions. A deep frown etched over Mulan’s brow. “But ... but ...”
Yi Ligui leaned forward as Mohuai climbed onto her lap and began twisting his finger around tendrils of white hair. “The spirits have spoken, girl. I shall wed you before you take your leave.”
Honour, She Obeys Page 42