by Eagle
Ying glared at the bodyguard. “A scarf?”
The man shrugged. “The workers in back said that was all we had.”
HukJee chuckled. “What about the qiang, Ying?”
“I like it,” Ying replied, closing the leather bag. “The ammunition is a nice surprise. A pleasure doing business with you.”
“Another satisfied customer,” HukJee said. “Wonderful!”
Ying offered HukJee a slight bow.
HukJee bowed back as best he could with his stomach still wedged beneath the table. “Come back anytime, Ying. Just be sure to leave your attitude at the door. Treat me fairly, and I'll do the same for you.”
“I'll remember that,” Ying replied. He quickly tied the black scarf across his face and left.
Ying crossed the docks at a brisk pace, hurrying to find a place to change his clothes before the sun rose any higher. He zigged and zagged through four different streets before settling on a narrow alley between two tall apartment buildings. He changed quickly, shoving the Pit Cleaner's uniform and the swatch of white silk he'd had on his face beneath a small pile of rotting lumber. The new clothes were of the finest quality and fit him well. He adjusted the black silk scarf across his face, tied his chain whip around his waist, and was about to step back onto the street when he froze. He felt that someone was watching him.
Ying sank low and poked his head quickly out of the alley. At the far end of one of the buildings, he saw a man's shadow. Someone was hiding around the corner. Ying could have kicked himself. He should have been more careful leaving HukJee's.
Ying slipped the leather bag over his shoulder and quietly untied the chain whip from around his waist. He placed the chain's handle in his right hand and the weighted tip in his left. He silently wound each end of the chain around his hands until he had two metal-wrapped fists with a length of chain as long as his arm dangling between them.
Ying stepped out of the alley without making a sound and hurried toward the building's far corner. As he reached it, the shadow moved and Ying leaped high into the air, just in time. A big man with brown hair and round eyes had been expecting him. The man let out a roar and burst around the corner, swinging a large boat oar exactly where Ying's knees would have been.
The giant's mighty swing left him off balance, and Ying slammed a metal-clad fist into his jaw. The big man rocked back on his heels but must have had a chin made of iron because he shook off the blow. The man dropped the oar and dove straight at Ying.
Ying leaped into the air again, and the huge man missed him a second time. The giant landed sprawled on the ground, face-first, and Ying spun 180 degrees in the air, landing on the man's back in a sitting position. Ying wrapped his legs around the man's midsection and looped the chain whip around the man's thick neck. Ying leaned way back, cutting off the supply of air to the giant's lungs, as well as the supply of blood to his brain.
The big man thrashed wildly, clawing at the chain, but slipped into unconsciousness after just a few heartbeats.
Ying released the tension on the chain immediately. He didn't want to kill the man. He had a few questions to ask him first.
Ying unlocked his legs and was about to unwind the chain from his hands when he heard someone speak in heavily accented Mandarin Chinese.
“For a man who wears women's scarves, you fight pretty well.”
Several men laughed, and Ying looked behind him. Six men stepped out of the shadows, each holding a short qiang in one hand and a strange sword in the other. They were all round eyes.
Ying started to unwind the chain whip from his hands, but a small man at the front of the group shook his head. “Leave your shackles on, Ying. You're coming with us.”
Ying found himself being led through a maze of back alleys and side streets, his hands bound with his own chain whip. Six heavily armed round eyes surrounded him while a seventh, the giant, led the way. The giant had just returned to consciousness and was still groggy. He weaved from side to side as he walked, Ying's leather bag swinging wildly over one of his wide shoulders.
“Where are you taking me?” Ying asked the group.
The small man who had spoken to Ying earlier smiled and said, “Sorry, we no speak Chinese.”
The group laughed.
Ying bit his lip. He was fighting mad, but he knew he was in no position to do anything. He might be able to take out one or two of the round eyes, but they all had qiangs and those strange swords. The swords were long and thin like a Chinese straight sword, but curved. They had a large, wide guard over the handle to protect the user's hand. Ying had seen them before, carried by round eyes in attendance at the fight clubs. The swords were called cutlasses. Ying had always wanted to test his skills against a man with one of those. Perhaps he would have his chance yet.
They eventually stopped behind an ordinary-looking single-story building. The small round eye turned to Ying and said, “Be on your best behavior. You're about to meet your new boss.”
The small man stepped up to the back door and knocked two times, then three times, then once. The door opened, and Ying was shoved inside.
It took a moment for Ying's eyes to adjust to the room's dim light, but after blinking several times he had no doubt who he was looking at. Fu, Malao, and Seh sat at a large table, along with several adult round eyes. At the head of the table, the place of highest honor, sat Hok.
Hok frowned at Ying. “You weren't supposed to come down to the waterfront until this evening.”
“I had some business to attend to,” Ying replied.
“You made a mistake,” Hok said. “That's not like you. It's a good thing Charles’ friends found you before Tonglong's men did.”
Ying's eyes narrowed.
“Remove his mask,” Hok said to the round eyes nearest Ying. “Unwrap his chain whip, too.”
“Are you sure you want him free?” the small man asked. “He seems to be quite a skilled fighter.”
“He gave me his word that he will cooperate,” Hok said. “Do as I ask, for Charles’ sake.”
“If you think he can help Charles, then okay,” the small man said. He unwrapped the chain whip from Ying's hands, and Ying snatched it away.
The small man raised his qiang to Ying's head.
“Let him keep the chain whip,” Hok said. “Return any other weapons you may have taken from him, too.”
“But he carried a qiang,” the small man protested, “and ammunition.”
“His word is good,” Hok said. “Return them, please.”
Ying removed the silk scarf from his face himself, and one of the round eyes handed him the leather bag. Ying checked inside. Everything was as he'd left it.
“Come,” Hok said to Ying. “Have a seat. We need to discuss a few things.”
“I'll stand,” Ying said. He wasn't about to sit in an inferior position to Hok.
“As you wish,” Hok replied. “I have some new information to share. HaMo has Charles, and he wants to make an exchange.”
“HaMo?” Ying said. “The former bandit?”
Hok nodded. “He contacted us here through Charles’ friends. It seems HaMo snatched Charles from a holding cell while the Jinan Fight Club was burning. He wants me to meet him alone to exchange Charles for the dragon scroll map that Seh carries.”
Ying glanced at Seh, then back at Hok. “You're not going to do it, are you?”
“We don't have any other choice,” Hok said. “We took a vote and decided I should do it.”
“You didn't let me vote,” Ying said.
Hok didn't reply.
“You have no idea what you're giving up with that scroll,” Ying said, frustrated. “Don't do it.”
“I am going to do it,” Hok said. “Unless you can think of something better.”
Ying tried to calm himself. “Where are you supposed to meet him?”
“On a barge anchored in the middle of the river. Downstream, tonight. Just me.”
“You're walking into a trap,” Ying said.
“No?” Ying asked. “HaMo double-crossed the bandits by allowing me and Tonglong access to their secret mountain fortress. He lived as one of them for more than ten years and sold them out for gold. What makes you think he'll keep his word with you?”
Hok didn't answer.
Ying stared at her. He could tell that she was going to go, and nothing was going to stop her. “At least let me look at the scroll map before you give it away, along with your life.”
“I don't know about this—” Seh began to say.
Ying turned to him. “I was promised time with the scroll as part of our deal. Show it to me.”
Fu growled and looked at Hok. “But Ying isn't going to do anything,” Fu said. “That means we don't have a deal anymore. Throw him out of here.”
Ying ground his teeth. He needed to take a different approach. “Show me the scroll, Hok, and I'll come up with a plan. I give you my word.”
Hok rubbed her temples. “I don't know—”
“I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by helping you,” Ying said. “Give me a quarter of an hour with the map, and I will make sure you leave HaMo's boat alive. All of you can stand over me while I study the map, if you wish. Bind my hands and feet. I don't care. A quarter of an hour, that's all I ask in exchange for an insurance policy on your life. What do you say?”
“I say we take another vote,” Malao offered. “I vote to let Ying help. So what if we show him the map? He'll probably get squashed by HaMo, anyway.” He shrugged.
“No way,” Fu growled. “I say we throw Ying out now.”
Malao poked Seh in the arm, and Ying saw Seh's snake slither beneath his sleeve. “What do you think, Seh?” Malao asked.
Seh didn't reply.
Hok stood. “I vote that we let Ying help,” she said. “It's up to you, Seh.”
Seh waited a long time before answering. “We should let Ying help.”
“No!” Fu roared.
“That's enough, Fu,” Hok said. “It is decided.”
Fu slammed his fist into the tabletop, but remained quiet. Ying was impressed. Back at Cangzhen, Fu would have continued to complain for hours over something like this.
Hok sat back down. “There is one more thing we still need to discuss. Since HaMo knows where we are, we will need to find a different place to hide. I suggest once we free Charles, the four of us travel to PawPaw's house.”
“PawPaw?” Ying said. “Grandmother? Who is that?”
“A woman who has helped us tremendously in the past,” Hok replied. “I would hate to impose on her again, but I don't know where else to go.”
“PawPaw's house makes sense,” Seh said.
“If it's good enough for you two, it's good enough for me,” Malao added.
“That's fine with me,” Fu said. “As long as Ying isn't coming.”
“Then it is decided,” Hok said. “Even if something should happen to me, the rest of you should go to PawPaw's, just to be safe.” She looked at Ying. “Would you like to see the scroll map now?”
“The sooner, the better,” Ying said. “Perhaps it will give me some inspiration for a plan.”
“Please show him the scroll, Seh,” Hok said.
Seh pulled the dragon scroll map from the small of his back and laid it on the table. Ying fought the urge to lunge for the scroll. He reached out, taking it carefully with both hands. Ying unrolled it and immediately felt energized. It was the same feeling he got just before a lightning storm hit. He noticed that the hair on his arms was standing on end.
As the initial excitement faded, Ying began to look the scroll over. He realized right away that it wasn't old. It was a recently made copy. He turned to Seh. “What happened to the original?”
“I modified it so that it was no longer accurate and let Tonglong steal it,” Seh said. “This is an exact copy of the unmodified version. I … made it when I could still see.”
Ying grinned. “Good trick,” he said. “I bet you drove Tonglong crazy.”
Seh nodded.
The small round eye peeked over Ying's shoulder. “Wait, that's not a map. It's just a sketch of a person. Those are pressure points, right?”
“I saw a sketch on the other side, too,” a different round eye said. “Looked like chi meridians to me.”
Hok pushed a lantern toward Ying. “There are sketches on both sides. Hold the scroll in front of the light, Ying, and watch how the two sketches blend together.”
Ying followed Hok's instructions and, sure enough, a map came clearly into focus. Seh had done an amazing job. Ying had traveled quite a bit during his days in the fight clubs, and he clearly recognized that the main chi meridian channel running from the figure's head to its belly button was the Grand Canal, China's great north/south waterway.
The round eyes began to chatter around Ying in their native tongue, and Ying tuned them out. He set about memorizing every detail of the map. It wasn't all that difficult, as he'd long ago memorized pressure point and chi meridian charts. He aligned the places he'd traveled with the different sections of the map, and in no time Ying could tell what each major area represented.
The head of the figure symbolized Peking, China's capital and home of the Emperor's fabled palace fortress, the Forbidden City. The main chi meridian running from hand to hand represented the Yellow River. Different pressure points highlighted dif ferent cities, including Jinan. The map was a work of genius.
Ying thought about the chi meridians shown in the sketch and realized that they were all rivers, not roads. Most dragons were water creatures, and the mapmaker had made waterways the key to this dragon scroll map. Ying had always felt more connected to the earth than to water, but perhaps he would come to feel closer to water over time. It appeared as though he would be spending a lot of time on it, following the map to its end point far to the south.
A thought came to Ying, and he paused. A water creature! Of course!
Ying hastily rolled up the scroll map and handed it to Hok with a gleam in his eye. He had the beginnings of a plan.
“Okay, little sister,” Ying said. “Here is what we are going to do … ”
Tonglong sat at the stern of his dragon boat with twenty of his best men. They were well hidden by heavy brush and the approaching darkness. Beyond them, anchored downstream in the center of the Yellow River, was HaMo's rented barge.
Tonglong adjusted his long ponytail braid and glanced down at the note he'd received from HaMo earlier in the day. He crumpled it and threw it overboard.
The note had begun oddly enough with an apology. HaMo had said that he was sorry for having crushed two of Tonglong's men to death. He also apolo gized for taking Charles. However, he said that he was certain Tonglong would quickly get over these things after hearing his proposal.
HaMo said that he was going to use Charles as bait to capture Hok, along with the fabled dragon scroll map that he knew Tonglong wanted. HaMo had managed to squeeze information out of Charles and learned that the dragon scroll map in Tonglong's possession had been altered. However, Hok's brother Seh had a copy of the correct map. HaMo said that he would soon have it and offered to exchange Charles, Hok, and the map for ten thousand gold pieces.
HaMo had designated a place to meet Tonglong the next morning to make the exchange. However, Tonglong was not about to give ten thousand gold pieces to anyone. He would take what he wanted. A few hours ago, his men had discovered the location of HaMo's rendezvous with Hok, and they had disposed of a backup team HaMo had positioned in this very location. Tonglong's men were learning fast, and he was proud of them. HaMo was in for a big surprise.
“Sir,” a soldier whispered from the bow of the dragon boat. “A skiff is approaching.”
Tonglong squinted in the fading light and saw a well-cared-for skiff heading downstream toward HaMo's boat. Standing at the back of the skiff, steering along with the current, was a girl with short hair in a battered white dress. It was Hok, and she was alone.
Tonglong watched as Hok neared HaMo's ancient wooden barge. The barge was perhaps thirty paces long and ten paces wide, and the rear section contained what appeared to be a small house complete with a roof. Light spilled out from several windows.
The barge floated low in the water and was anchored at its bow. It pointed nose-first, upstream. Hok pulled alongside the barge on Tonglong's side of the river. Tonglong could see everything.
A man hurried out of the barge's small house and leaned over the vessel's low side rail, facing Hok. He helped her tie the skiff off, then hauled her aboard. The man pushed Hok roughly into the little house, and Tonglong heard a door slam closed.
Tonglong signaled to his men. They would give HaMo a quarter of an hour to subdue Hok, and then they would make their move.
Ying hung on to the slippery rope with all his might, nothing but a hollow reed connecting him to the surface. He rode the river's current as best he could, wondering how Cheen and Sum, the eel twins he'd heard about at the bandit stronghold, ever managed to do this on a regular basis.
Hok's skiff stopped suddenly with a loud thump, and Ying knew that they had finally reached HaMo's barge. He held fast to the rope and waited, the current tugging at him, urging him downstream.
Above the surface, Ying could make out random banging noises. The skiff was being tied off to the barge. He saw the skiff rock slightly, then float noticeably higher in the water. Hok had boarded HaMo's vessel.
Ying counted to one hundred, then took a deep breath. He spat out the reed, dove beneath the barge, and swam across the current, surfacing on the other side of the large vessel. He reached up, grabbed hold of the barge's low railing, and silently pulled his shoulders and chest out of the water.
Ying looked across the deck. It was almost dark now, but he could see well enough to know that there was no one on it. Lights burned inside some sort of living quarters that looked just like a small house. Hok must be inside there.
Ying pulled himself the rest of the way out of the water onto the barge. He stifled a groan as his healing ribs strained. Once aboard, he lay down and untied his chain whip from his waist, folding it into his right fist. He wished he could have brought his new qiang with him, but it would have been rendered useless after being underwater.