Placing their trust in the Oclanders was the right and only thing to do. Knowing that soothed her concerns by a fraction. She relaxed again, scrubbed her body and her hair, then she emerged to figure out the dress she would be wearing throughout their hike through enemy territory.
Allied territory.
Liang just didn’t realize it yet.
The chemise and undergarments were self-explanatory, but she struggled with the laces of the dress and surrendered, finally calling Ana, who laced her into the bodice expertly.
“I thought it would fit you well. You’re tall for a Liangese woman. Now, for the final touch…” Ana draped a matching shawl around Mulan’s shoulders. “Whenever you wear this garment, for as long as you remain a true friend of Cairn Ocland, nothing from the dark shall harm you.”
The words carried weight.
At that moment, something special happened. Though Mulan could see no change, she felt the tingle of magic against her skin and a sensation like electricity snap against her chest.
“Did you—?”
“Consider it a small gift and token of our gratitude. Now, let us go to your emperor and discuss the path ahead of you.”
My emperor.
The term took another meaning in Mulan’s thoughts, one she only wished could be true.
They gathered once more in the command tent around a roughhewn table stacked with game meat, smoked fish, and dense pastries. While Mulan, Cheng, and Cairn Ocland’s leaders dined, Anastasia poured generous goblets of honey wine.
“We and the clan leaders have spoken,” King Alistair said. “As much as we would like to aid you in retaking your kingdom, our hands are tied for as long as soldiers spill from that gate. No magical spell has damaged it.”
“No amount of wind or electrical storm will move it,” said the same enormous griffin who had carried them to the camp.
An enormous man with short, curly blond hair nodded. His biceps were larger than Mulan's waist, and he put even Cheng and Alistair to shame with his muscled body. “My hammer was of no use. For all the earth magic we throw at the area, the ground absorbs it as if our magic is rain upon drought-stricken ground.”
Teagan sighed. “Ramsay is correct. Not even dragon’s fire will damage that infernal device.”
According to the introductions by Alistair and Ana, the three men were the strongest lords of Cairn Ocland, all powerful shifters with great magical gifts over the elements. Yet their combined power had been useless.
“I can disarm it,” Mulan said quietly, rubbing her face. “If I don my uniform, they’ll allow me close enough to rip down the wards.”
“It will not work,” Cheng argued. “From what you have told me of the construction, it is powered from the other end.”
“But the papers. If I tear them down, would it not disrupt the magic?”
“No. Think, Mulan. What happened when the gate activated?”
“It was like an explosion, fire and magic rushing outward and destroying all in its path.”
“Including the scrolls, I would wager. Due to the nature of the spell, it is unlikely that they exist any longer. Their essence would have been burned into the trees in an act of alchemical transmutation. I have seen this done on a smaller scale. The great destruction caused by this is why my mother never followed through with the idea. As Liang is a vast empire spanning hundreds of leagues, she wanted to connect our people by a series of gates to be used by all.”
“What? I never heard of such a thing.”
“There is a scar in the southern canyons where the river runs to Samahara. Nothing there will grow. That is where she tested the idea with my uncle.”
“Then how do we dismantle it?” Alistair asked, appearing eager. “What can we do? Dragon’s breath does nothing. We’ve used everything at our disposal, and still it remains.”
“We will have to go to the source,” Cheng replied.
Mulan stared at him. “That is suicide. Even in uniform, there are too many at that gate. I’d never succeed in dismantling it in time. It lies too close to the Imperial City and will have armies surrounding it. We need help. We need…we need an army.”
“Which we cannot provide,” Ana said gently. “We would never get so deep into your territory undiscovered.”
“Might I suggest a miracle instead of an army?” Teagan cut in.
Mulan blinked at her. “A miracle?”
“Your goddess. Have you asked her for help?”
Mulan couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of her. To her surprise, none of the shifters laughed. “I… You’re serious?”
“We are,” Alistair said, gaze sliding to the enormous werewolf who had helped Cheng with his garments. “Many years ago, a great darkness fell over Cairn Ocland.”
Conall nodded. “We prayed to the stars above us for aid. They gave us a weapon of pure starlight to defeat our enemy.”
“I keep an altar to Yüying. I pray to her often. There is never a reply.”
“Perhaps the location is the problem.” Teagan gazed at her with solemn eyes. “Empress Li-Song took me to an ethereal temple centuries ago, one purported to be the home of the Jade Dragon herself.”
“I know it,” Cheng said, his expression brightening. Then he deflated. “We must be… Gods, the distance is tremendous. It’s far west. It would take at least two or three moon cycles to reach on foot.”
“I can’t take you the entire way to your temple, but I can get you over the mountains,” the griffin leader offered.
Cheng may not have voiced his concerns, but she could read the displeasure in his face.
If not for the curse, he could have flown them himself.
“I couldn’t ask that of you.”
“You don’t have to ask of it of me, lad. It’s what needs to be done. You’ll still be in Cairn Ocland lands, but you’ll be safe.”
“When will we leave?”
“At sunrise. When the emperor has gone dormant again will be a fine time. If I’m flying only you, we’re guaranteed to go far.”
12
Faolan flew as far as the Benthwaite Mountains, soaring for hours until exhaustion forced him to land just west of Mount Kinros, the tallest peak in the range. From above, Cairn Ocland struck her as a truly majestic kingdom, covered in lush green forest to the east and snow-kissed mountains on its western border.
And somewhere in the middle, she’d seen a swath of devastation caused by alchemical fire.
Her kingdom had done this. It hurt knowing she’d dedicated five years of her life to a needless war.
Early in their journey, they had even passed above the blackened skeletons of razed villages, so many innocents now homeless amid the destruction.
So much fighting over a forest.
But it was more than that, wasn’t it?
To the Liangese, it was their livelihood, herbal remedies, and medicines. To the Oclanders, their most vulnerable and helpless, who deserved the same safety as their citizens. Were it not for Mulan and her agents creeping across the wall, so much devastation would have never come to pass.
I caused this. And I will fix it, even if it takes my dying breath.
“Ah, one last thing, lass. Queen Anastasia bid me to remind you to remain in that gown for now. Some of our people are in this area watching the border.”
“What do I do when I see them?”
“You won’t.”
“Won’t what?”
Faolan smiled. “You won’t see them.”
More unnerving words had never been said to her.
“We’ll care for your mounts and keep them fed. Pity we weren’t able to bring them for you, too.”
“It’s all right. I understand.”
Alistair certainly could have carried one in each of his enormous claws, but he was needed in the east. And Mulan had walked her fair share of distances through the wilds many times before.
“Thank you for all of your help.”
“Nae, lass. Thank you for yours. May you
r gods bless you and provide the guidance you seek.”
It took them days of travel to work their way south to Liang’s border. With coin Ana had given to them, Mulan managed to purchase two mules at a small farm the next morning, which made the journey far more bearable and efficient. By day she rode as many miles as the poor beasts would allow, taking comfort in the moments when Cheng spoke to her. It seemed it happened more often now, his thoughts touching hers with more clarity and strength than before.
Ana’s gift proved its worth when she reached the border. The Ocland style and color shifted and transformed, until she was garbed in beautiful silks with a floral imprint that smelled as fresh on her skin as it appeared. Fae magic was truly something amazing. Cheng’s attire, unfortunately, did not share the same enchantment. She buried his tartan deep in her pack and made sure his robes were laid out each night she stopped to rest.
Even with the mules, the journey was long. By the time she reached the lake, night was upon them again. Cheng took one look at her exhausted features and insisted they camp rather than press forward.
“You need rest. Besides, it is better we arrive at the temple in the daylight. Even monks require sleep.”
“But we’re here. We’re so close. The bridge can’t be more than a few hours from here.”
“Which you can travel come morning.” He reached over and stroked his thumb across her cheek. “You have circles beneath your eyes. We’ve ridden hard these past days, you most of all. So rest.”
More than anything, she wanted to press her cheek into his touch. Something shone in his eyes, a warmth she felt through her entire body. She told herself she was reading more into it than there was, that his concern was entirely platonic. She wished it were more, but knew it could never be.
“All right. I’ll rest and then, tomorrow, we’ll make our way to the temple.” She pulled away from his touch and busied herself with setting up camp. The moment she laid down and set her head on the pillow, sleep claimed her as days of hard riding finally took their toll. She rested easily knowing Cheng watched over her.
But in her dreams, he lay beside her.
Mulan had never been to the Temple of the Jade Dragon, though she had seen the holy place depicted in paintings and heard stories passed down for generations from a time when their doors were open to the public.
Centuries ago, Liangese made pilgrimages to worship their goddess. They had walked those halls and communed with Yüying. In the years since, the priests no longer took visitors. They claimed their connection to the goddess had been damaged, and nothing but devout prayer could restore it.
Was it Cheng they were looking for? She smoothed her thumb over the pearl she received from Queen Anastasia, as afraid to use it as she was of being sighted—and recognized—on the road. Even with her hair down and her exceptionally beautiful clothing, courtesy of the faerie queen, the fear nibbled at her courage.
She walked the winding path to the temple, passing between colorful fire maples and slim silverwood trees. Every time the wind stirred the branches, soft chimes rang and silk ribbons whispered. The temple was more beautiful in person than art could capture, surrounded by lovingly tended gardens. No one came out to speak to her until after she crossed a small footbridge over a creek.
“The temple takes no visitors, young miss,” a monk said, his voice soft yet firm.
The man blocking her path gazed at her with hard eyes, his stance too stiff and proud. The slight bulge in his robes drew her gaze to what may have been a concealed weapon hidden beneath the golden-orange fabric.
“I only wanted to look upon it from afar,” Mulan lied easily. She placed both hands together and bowed. “It has been a long journey, and the sight of Yüying’s temple is all I need. Please, good priest, allow me only that.”
“Perhaps,” he said, gaze raking over her in a manner unlikely of a legitimate monk, “something can be arranged for you to come nearer.” His gaze dropped to the jade statuette connected to her sash by a twisted gold and scarlet rope in addition to a lucky phoenix she’d received from her grandmother years ago, passed down through their family. Her heart sped, hammering in her chest with a furious kick when recognition gleamed in his eyes.
“Where did you get that?”
“This? Only a good luck charm from my parents. When I expressed my desire to see Yüying’s holy temple and ask for her guidance in finding a husband, my mother decided I should take it.” Mulan smiled and dropped her gaze, giving an impression of demure propriety. “It is not much, I know, and worth little, but it brings me comfort.”
The man hesitated, his wariness wavering. “As I said, perhaps we can arrange a closer visit.”
Her senses told her not to trust him. Gripping Cheng’s statuette in one hand, she followed behind the monk impersonator.
Warnings echoed through her thoughts, Cheng’s voice urging her to beware.
I do not trust him. That is no monk of Yüying.
The temple grounds were quiet. That wasn’t remarkable for a temple, except this silence was anything but peaceful. It was odd. Uncomfortable.
Throughout the years, she had visited many temples devoted to the other gods and goddesses of Liang, and she’d always felt a sense of safety and love pervading the grounds. Holy men and women had tended them with love.
No monks tended these grounds, and now that she was closer, she noticed the signs of neglect that weren’t apparent during her approach.
He led her away from the main entrance and to a side room, where three other men in identical robes sat around a table playing dice.
“We have a visitor, brothers.”
All the while that she took in the surrounding area, she wondered what monks would spend their free time rolling dice over study and training. For a monk, his home was the holiest of places, and deserving of the same love and respect for he had for his goddess.
Cheng agreed with her, his thoughts no longer needling through her mind as much as…a gentle caress of accession.
Monks would be reading. Studying. Writing. Tending to their gardens.
These are no monks, he warned. Look at the back of his hand.
It’s only a tattoo.
One poorly done, fading. Are monks of today so lacking in pride for their art?
“Traveling alone is dangerous these days, with beasts attacking our borders,” one of the false monks said. He beckoned her to come in further, while the man she had followed closed the door behind her. Every intuition she had demanded she fight, but she couldn’t risk alerting them. She had to trust in the enchantment. She simply hadn’t expected to use it against imposters.
“We are so far away,” she said, “and I trust in the goddess to protect a pilgrim seeking her wisdom and blessings.”
“Right you are, miss. She appreciates those who honor her monks as well. Will you honor us? Perhaps with a song.” His eyes glittered with lust. “Or a dance.”
Outside, through one of the windows, she watched the setting sun as it threatened to dip below the horizon. She didn’t have time to waste with these men if they weren’t true monks.
Where were the actual priests of the temple?
Relaxing her shoulders and unclenching her jaw required all of her self-control. She smiled up at the men, feigning the demure innocence she’d witnessed several times over among the concubines.
“It’s a rather small room to dance. Will you not invite the other monks to join us?”
“It’s only us, flower,” the first man said.
“Perfect.”
Can you take three of them on if the queen’s enchantment fails?
You’ve seen me fight.
Fair enough.
Moving to the middle of the room, she began to sway her hips to the silent beat in her head, the skirt of her dress swishing around her shins. A trio of lustful faces watched her, their enthusiasm counter to everything she expected of pious holy men. She rubbed her thumb over the pearl given to her by Anastasia and pressed in on the ba
uble, cracking the delicate shell to release its magic.
It took effect slowly, lulling each man into a stupor as they watched her dance, until finally they all closed their eyes. She waited, breath held, but none of them stirred from their sleep.
The longer she lingered in their antechamber, the more apparent the sense of wrong. An odor of stale liquor was in the air—foreign and honey-sweet, like the stuff she associated with the barbarians across the ocean far east. Gagging on it, Mulan hurried from the room and onto the grounds again without knowing how long the enchanted sleep would endure.
Darkness crept across the sky, stretching fingers of dusky violet over the lavender canvas. Despite the disregard from the deceivers, the immediate grounds around the temple grew verdant and healthy, though moss crawled over the stone statues and a patina of green covered those sculpted from copper, adding a uniquely beautiful look to the ancient decor. She continued through waist-high weeds and ascended marble steps to reach the red doors.
They did not part no matter how hard she pushed.
It is sealed by some force of magic, Cheng said.
Can you release it?
I can try.
The jade statuette pulsed green, then a sizzling noise reached her from the other side of the door. The next time Mulan pushed it, it slid open and revealed the musty interior of a dim temple. On the door, the remnants of a single scroll remained.
The air smelled of incense, sweet resins and soft herbs. All was silent, but this time it was the hushed silence of a sanctuary. Or a tomb. Were the monks even alive still, or had soldiers killed them to take their place?
“This feels like a fool’s errand,” she murmured, only to feel a wave of reassurance from Cheng urging her to proceed.
This is all that we have.
Following the hall, she made her way to the main prayer room, brushing aside cobwebs from the doorway, and sucked in a startled breath. Three men occupied the room, each adorned in the same robes worn by the imposters, but older in style and covered in a fine layer of dust. Each man sat on silk rug with his legs folded and hands resting on his knees. Their eyes remained closed. They didn’t even seem to breathe.
Mulan and the Jade Emperor: an Adult Folktale Retelling (Once Upon a Spell: Legends Book 1) Page 10