by Crane
Tsung took two steps back, and the door opened farther. An elderly monk poked his bald, wrinkled head out. He scowled at Tsung.
Tsung raised his bushy eyebrows and glanced at Hok hanging over his shoulder.
The old monk sighed and approached Tsung, reaching out to touch Hok's face. He lifted first one eyelid, then the other. “Dream Dust,” he said.
Tsung nodded. “That's what I think, too. It was Major Ying's doing. He and his number one soldier, Tonglong. They destroyed Cangzhen, you know.”
“So I've heard.”
“This girl might have information about the attack,” Tsung said. “I have information to share, too. I did some spying on Major Ying and Tonglong.”
“I am more concerned about healing this child,” the old monk said. “What is in this for you?”
“You know how I feel about Major Ying. If he shows up here and attempts to destroy Shaolin like he did Cangzhen, I want you to crush him. My information will help you. I'm assuming hers will, too.”
The old monk ran a hand over Hok's robe. “She does appear to be from Cangzhen. Their robes are noticeably different from ours. It seems I will have to trust you. I will call a meeting immediately. Take the girl to the female guest quarters at the back of the main dormitory and meet me in the banquet hall. She will stay with us as long as she wishes, but you will not. You will leave as soon as the meeting has concluded.”
Tsung nodded and shifted Hok to his other shoulder. “I will make sure the girl is comfortable before joining you. It shouldn't take long.”
“You're right,” the old monk replied. “It shouldn't take you long at all. People will be watching you throughout the compound. Once you step inside, you will be locked in with more than a thousand warrior monks. Do not attempt anything foolish.”
Tsung waved one hand casually. “I wouldn't dream of it.”
The old monk stared hard at Tsung. “Come inside, then. The sooner you are out of here, the better.”
Hok woke with a start from a long, deep sleep. She was nauseous and her head ached. She sat up in a strange bed and rubbed her weary eyes.
She found herself in one corner of a very dark room. Only a few stray rays of moonlight crept in through old wooden shutters, but Hok swore she saw tendrils of smoke in the air. Was she dreaming again? She didn't think so. She glanced around for clues to her whereabouts and saw nothing of significance. However, as her other senses began to clear, she started to hear and even smell things that made her heart race.
Hok identified the distinct clang of wood against metal as staffs clashed with broadswords outside her room. She also recognized the rotten-egg smell of burned sulfur in the air, which went hand in hand with the BOOMs! that rang out continuously, usually followed by pain-filled screams. If she had to guess, she would say that soldiers were fighting warrior monks outside. She must be at Shaolin Temple, like Tsung had talked about.
Hok glanced down and was alarmed to see that she was only wearing her undergarments. She didn't recall taking off her robe. She scanned the room again, but saw no sign of her orange robe and pants.
Next to the bed was a small dresser. Hok hurried through the drawers. The only clothing inside was a red silk dress, so she stood and slipped it on, quickly pushing the knots of thread along the right side of the dress into the loop fasteners.
Hok straightened the dress's short sleeves and flipped up the high traditional collar. Her hand brushed against her collarbone, and she paused. She hurriedly ran her fingers under the collar until she caught a single silk thread, lifting it until a tiny jade crane popped free. Hok sighed and tucked the crane back into the dress.
A tremendous BOOM! thundered outside Hok's window, and the building shook so hard, dust drifted down from the rafters. Hok knew she was going to have to leave. She took a step on unsteady legs, and the door flew inward on its hinges.
A huge soldier filled the doorway. His armor glimmered in the light of the torch burning in his hand.
“Well, well,” the soldier said. “What do we have here?”
Hok felt a burst of nervous energy jolt her system, and it cleared her head. She glanced at the dress and knew exactly what she needed to do. She looked the man in the eye and sat down on the stone floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She wrapped her arms tightly around them, shivering as though nervous.
“Don't be afraid, little lady,” the soldier said with a crooked smile. “Here, give me your hand—”
The soldier stepped forward and leaned over Hok, his arm outstretched. When his fat, dirty fingers touched Hok's cheek, she latched on to his wrist with both hands. She kept her knees tucked close to her body and rolled onto her back, pulling the man toward her.
Off balance, the big man teetered forward and Hok slammed both her feet into his chest as hard as she could while still holding on to his wrist and still rolling backward.
The soldier's momentum sent him sailing in an upside-down arc over Hok's head. As soon as the man's body was beyond her, Hok let go of his wrist. The soldier continued his flip backward and crashed into the far wall. Hok hopped to her feet and sailed through the doorway.
Outside, Hok found herself facing the back of a long, low building. The night air was heavy with smoke and she couldn't see which direction would be best to run. She chose left. She reached the edge of the long building and peered around the corner.
Hok saw groups of soldiers battling individual monks. The monks were vastly outnumbered. Orange-robed bodies lay everywhere, riddled with large red holes. The monks didn't stand a chance against the qiangs.
Behind her, the soldier she'd sent soaring through the air cried out, “I just flushed a girl in a red dress! She is mine! I—”
Hok didn't wait to hear another word. She glanced left, right, and left again, trying to decide which way to run. Then she looked up. She saw a large section of roof rafter dangling from the corner of the long building. Hok squatted low and leaped silently straight into the air. Her years of crane-style leg exercises paid off. She caught hold of the rafter and swung her lightweight body onto the roof's clay tiles.
Hok stepped carefully away from the edge, up the roof's steep slope, then tiptoed across the roof tiles, moving as quickly as possible. With every step, she noticed the tiles growing warmer. There must be a fire raging beneath. She had to be extra careful now. The tiles would soon begin to fracture from the heat.
Hok was halfway along the length of the building when her luck ran out. One of the tiles beneath her feet shattered, and several pieces tumbled to the ground.
The soldier hunting Hok looked up. “My, you are a sneaky one!” he said with a laugh, and ran toward her.
Hok decided to trade silence for speed. She started to run, too. As she neared the end of the building, she realized she would either have to jump onto the next rooftop or leap down and fight the soldier. The next building was farther than Hok would have liked, but she decided she had no other choice. She spread her arms wide and soared off the edge in full stride.
Hok landed softly on her feet on the neighboring rooftop with plenty of room to spare. Below her, the soldier whistled.
“I would have never believed it if I hadn't seen it,” he said. “What are you going to do for your next trick, dance? I've got something to make you dance!”
The soldier reached under his armored chest plate, and Hok began to run again. The soldier cursed and followed.
After just a few strides, Hok's heart sank. This rooftop was a dead end. There was nothing beyond it but blackness. She had to stop.
“Ready to dance for me?” the soldier asked from below, out of breath.
Hok ignored him. She glanced over the soldier's shoulder and noticed a wall just beyond his torch's glow. They must be at the far side of the compound.
In the past, Grandmaster had made her jump from the top of Cangzhen's tallest building, over its compound wall, and land on the ground beyond. She wondered exactly how high she was now, and what the dimensions of Shaolin's walls w
ere.
The soldier reached beneath his armor again and Hok stepped farther up toward the peak of the roof. She noticed that the roof tiles were much warmer up there than they had been by the edge. In fact, they were so warm that she found she needed to shift her weight from foot to foot. That gave her an idea. Hok dropped to her knees, formed a crane-beak fist, and slammed it into one of the roof tiles.
The roof tile shattered and flames shot up through the opening, licking the night air.
“Hey!” the soldier called out, fumbling with something. “What are you doing?”
Hok stood and tore the sleeves off her dress, then tied them around a chunk of the shattered roof tile. She left the ends of silk dangling extra long and held on to one piece while lighting the others with the flames dancing up through the hole. With the flaming bundle at her side, Hok headed for the far edge of the roof, toward the compound wall.
“Where do you think you're going?” the soldier asked. “You'll kill yourself over there! Stop!”
Hok glanced back over at the soldier and saw that he was now holding a short qiang. She had to act fast.
Hok swung the fiery bundle over her head and hurled the flaming mass into the night. As it flew, she caught a glimpse of the compound wall and the ground beyond it. She made her best guess of the wall's dimensions and her distance to the ground beyond it.
And then she jumped.
Hok landed without a sound on the far side of the compound wall. She rolled several times on the damp grass to disperse the energy of her landing, and hopped to her feet.
Like Cangzhen, Shaolin had a grassy moat around its perimeter to make it harder to approach without being seen. Hok ran across it. She made it to a pitch-black tree line some distance away and stopped to catch her breath. Though smoky the night air was much clearer here than it had been inside the burning compound. Hok inhaled deeply. Repeatedly. She was still nauseous from the Dream Dust, but this was no time for a long rest.
Hok glanced around, and froze. She realized that she wasn't alone.
Overhead, a smooth voice purred, “That was quite a leap you just made. I'm glad you announced your intentions by waving that burning projectile beforehand. Otherwise, I might have missed you entirely.”
Hok looked up and saw Tsung crouched on a large tree limb. He was wearing her Cangzhen robe.
Hok's eyes narrowed.
“I told you that you were going to be my ticket into Shaolin,” Tsung said with a laugh. “Borrowing your robe to wear while I did my dirty work will make for great rumors, don't you think? My men have no idea that it was me who killed Shaolin's sentries from within and opened the main gate for them. They think it was you! A Cangzhen monk other than Ying responsible for the downfall of the mighty Shaolin Temple! The people of this region will be furious! It's a shame you won't be around to witness it firsthand.”
Hok's mind began to race. She wondered if what he was saying was true or just a trick to distract her.
A beam of moonlight slipped between the leaves and illuminated Tsung's shoulders. Hok saw them flex ever so slightly, and she knew what was about to happen.
Hok leaped backward as Tsung exploded out of the tree. He landed in the exact spot where she had been standing. Hok couldn't believe a human could move that fast.
Tsung grinned his toothy grin. “You're very perceptive. That's good. It will make this kill all the more exciting—”
Tsung lunged at Hok again, and Hok hopped sideways. She escaped the brunt of the impact, but Tsung reached out at her throat as he passed by. His long fingernails connected with a glancing swipe and five thin lines of blood oozed horizontally across the side of her neck.
Hok knew that she had to take action. Tsung was far too fast for her to respond defensively especially with the Dream Dust still in her system. As soon as Tsung hit the ground, Hok lunged at him, swinging her right elbow at his head.
Tsung's bushy eyebrows shot up in surprise and he grabbed her incoming elbow with his left hand. Hok heard him grimace as her bony elbow made contact with his palm, but he didn't release her. Instead, he tightened his grip and latched on to the back of her arm with his other hand.
Tsung began to dig his long fingernails into Hok's arm, and she responded by forming a crane beak with her free hand. She swung it at his face, expecting him to release at least one of his hands to block it. He didn't. Instead, he simply turned his head to one side and let Hok strike him. Hok nearly took out his eye. Blood began to run from the spot where she had hit him.
Hok was confused. She pulled back her free arm to strike Tsung again, and Tsung went on the offensive. Still gripping Hok's right arm with both hands, he yanked her to one side and kicked her legs out from under her.
Hok landed hard, the side of her face colliding with the ground. She felt Tsung let her arm slip through his hands until her wrist reached his fingers, and he clamped down powerfully with both hands, locking on to her wrist. With her arm now outstretched in his hands, Tsung dropped to the ground on his back, perpendicular to her, and thrust each of his legs on either side of her outstretched arm.
Hok found herself flat on her back, trapped in a straight-arm lock that she could not escape from. Tsung had a firm grip with both of his hands on her right wrist, her arm clamped tightly between his thighs. The back of Tsung's left leg was over her shoulder, and the back of his right leg was across her chest. Hok was pinned to the ground with her arm painfully outstretched.
“I bet they never taught you that move at Cang-zhen,” Tsung said. “Great fun, isn't it?” He laughed.
Hok's eyes began to water from the strain she felt on her arm. Tsung raised his hips slowly, and Hok felt her elbow hyperextend in a direction it wasn't designed to move—inside out.
Hok tried to pull away, or shift left or right, or do something, but it was no use. The more she pulled, the worse it hurt. She began to breathe in great gulps. Hok felt the sinews in her arms begin to pop. Her outstretched arm was going to snap. She wanted to scream, but she held it in.
“Hurts, doesn't it?” Tsung purred. “You think this is bad? Wait. After I break your arm, I'm going to dislocate every joint in your body, one at a time—”
Hok knew the end of her arm was near. She would soon lose her life, too. She had to do something. Without another thought, she thrust her hyper-extended elbow skyward and twisted her body as hard as she could to one side.
Hok heard her arm snap before she felt it, a clean break somewhere below the elbow. She cried out, but continued to twist.
Tsung's grip faltered, and Hok yanked her mangled arm free. She hopped to her feet and raced into the trees, cradling her broken arm as tears of pain cascaded over a badly bruised cheekbone. It even hurt to cry.
Hok had always had an unnatural ability to travel silently through dense forest at an amazing rate, and she used this to her advantage. She heard Tsung following her, but she could tell he was falling behind. She knew that he was incredibly fast in short bursts, but those bursts drained him of energy. He could not keep up with her over long distances.
Hok stayed on the move until her legs were wobbly and her knees swelled. And then she ran some more. Eventually, she came to a stream.
Still cradling her arm, Hok waded in above her ankles and followed the stream for several It through the darkness. She remained in the cold water the entire time. Her bare feet grew numb, which made walking difficult, but she stayed in the water because it meant there would be no tracks for Tsung or anyone else to follow.
As the sun began to rise, Hok saw a point where the creek forked. Unsure which branch to follow, she stopped and glanced down both routes. She needed to find a place to rest. For no particular reason, she decided to take the left branch. However, after taking a step in that direction, she detected movement out of the corner of her eye. Some distance down the right branch was a large bird wading in the water. It had a snow-white body, a black neck, black wing tips, and a brilliant red crown on its head. It was a crane.
Hok turne
d toward the bird, and it flew off downstream. She decided to follow it. She didn't have to walk very far before the stream suddenly opened into a wide marsh—the perfect resting place. The crane was gone.
Hok unhooked two of the loops on the side of her dress and carefully slid her broken arm into the space like a crude sling. With her one good arm, she managed to collect enough marsh grass to form a small pile on the shoreline, and she finally collapsed into the makeshift nest like an exhausted bird that had lost her flock.
Twenty-nine-year-old Tonglong pulled hard on his horse's reins, stopping the black beast at the wide-open gates of Shaolin Temple. It appeared he'd missed a history-making event. Shaolin was destroyed. That was good news for the Emperor.
It was even better news for Tonglong.
Tonglong adjusted his long ponytail braid over his shoulder and scanned the area. The attack must have occurred at least a day and a half earlier. He couldn't help but grin at the rows of neatly stacked corpses rotting in the midday warmth. Whoever was behind such a methodical operation had to be mad. Some of the buildings were still smoldering, but the victims had already been accounted for and the troops had moved on. It could only be Tsung, the former Shaolin monk who was now a general within the Emperor's ranks. Renegade monks like Tsung and Ying seemed to be favorites of the Emperor these days. Tonglong hoped to change that soon.
Tonglong maneuvered his horse around the far side of the compound to see what else there was to see. Halfway across the grassy expanse that separated the walls of Shaolin from the tree line, a strange object caught his eye. He climbed off his horse and picked it up. It appeared to be a strip of red silk tied around a fragment of roof tile. Most of the silk had been burned.
Puzzled, Tonglong dropped it and led his horse over to the tree line. There he found signs of a scuffle. He scoured the ground and noticed something tiny and green and glimmering.
Tonglong knelt and found a small jade crane connected to a single strand of silk. He recognized it as Hok's. Women typically hung jewelry from their sash in much the same way men hung storage pouches, but he had seen Hok wearing this around her neck.