by Ino Lee
“We have killed before,” Renshu said. “This is not strange, though Houzon is a new matter.”
“It’s a risk, but if they send more hunting parties, so much the better,” Wong said.
“Who will do this?” Shiki asked. “The fire?”
“Send two of your magaus. Have them draw the hunting party away, toward the main force for an ambush.”
Shiki nodded.
“So what happens next in your plan?” Jaguan said. “This is just a diversion. There must be more.”
“Well, it’s not a complete plan . . . I don’t have everything worked out just yet.”
“This plan worries me.”
“Let us hear the master thief out,” Renshu said.
“All we need is some swamp moss and vine, and then we’re set.” Wong rubbed his hands. “Oh, and stink blossoms.”
“This plan worries me,” Renshu said.
Wong grinned.
A wisp of smoke broke the forest canopy, thin and twisting. Toward the ground, a lump of soil bulged and inched forward.
The gatehouse directly above the drawbridge was quiet. For a while it seemed like the smoke would go unnoticed, but dagwais in the gatehouse soon stirred. A bell rang and tolled three times. An unan with a human-like face and a long gray goatee crawled out of the gatehouse window and ambled down one of the fence’s logs, stopping halfway before dropping into the moat’s reservoir. It quickly got the attention of the other unan, and then made off with the ogre.
Jaguan watched them trail into the swamp toward the smoke. Having two unan leave the premises was good, but not what they had planned. If a hunting party wasn’t sent, their mission could fall apart.
Nervous time passed. Much to his relief, the drawbridge croaked and its chains groaned. Slowly, a sliver of space opened between the drawbridge and the gatehouse, steadily growing and gaining in speed until the heavy gate slapped the earth on the opposite side of the moat.
The raucous bark of razor hounds pierced the air. Six dagwais and two hounds marched forward, followed by six ninjas holding netting overhead to block out the sun. Jaguan guessed they comprised two hunting parties—three dagwais, three ninjas, and a razor hound each. The unan had probably left as forward scouts. They would split apart to lead the separate parties if needed, or summon everyone to fight as one. He noted the escalation in protocol, from five members to seven with an unan in the lead—most likely a response to the missing parties.
A curious razor hound veered to the left past the drawbridge, but its handler yanked it back in line. The party made for the tree line toward the smoke and drew in the netting under the cover of trees, a familiar and practiced task.
Jaguan and Shiki relaxed. The razor hound had almost detected them hiding under their blanket of moss, but the scent of stink blossoms masked their scent.
The renewed crank of gears and groaning chains signaled their next move. The drawbridge lifted, a set of logs similar to the construction of the stakewall, but halved to reduce weight and provide a flat surface on which to walk. A little helper monkey darted out from beneath the moss and secured a loop around a pointed end, then scuttled back under the camouflage. The loop was connected to a vine, which Shiki fed from underneath the moss to give it leeway. When the platform reached the halfway mark, they crept forward and gently swung to the underside of the platform using the vine. Slowly, they were cranked up. The first few moments were the most critical: they waited until the bridge was partially up before hanging on so their weight would have less impact, but it was difficult to tell if they would still be noticed. They hung completely vulnerable while animals with large teeth thrashed below.
Shiki looked around, his face going pale. Jaguan, who hung just below, saw his expression and looked over. Near the corner of the moat, within eyesight, sat the unan with the gator mask. It was sitting in a different part of the trench from when they first saw it, and had come over at the ringing of the bell and the meeting of the unan earlier.
The drawbridge seemed to slow. Seconds felt like hours. The gator mask shifted in their direction, but looked away again when a hippogator splashed nearby. They finally moved past the line of sight of the demon and felt relief, though the next stage of their mission was about to begin. Up ahead, the open windows of the gatehouse loomed large. They started to climb the vine, fist over fist.
Wong and Renshu perched atop a tree facing the western wall and stared impatiently at the wisp of smoke in the distance. The trees were taller and had grown closer to the stockade on the western edge than in any other part of the surroundings.
“Do they not see?” the monkey king said.
“Give them some time.”
“How will we know some time?”
“Listen for the drawbridge.”
Baifu, Jaguan’s hypnotized monkey, chittered.
“Yes, Baifu, soon,” Renshu said.
Koku, the remaining guard under Shiki, finished unfurling Yaje cable so that it was free and untangled.
“It is done,” Koku said. “But this rope it is too thin.”
“It’s made from Yaje silk,” Wong said. “It will hold.”
He readied a dagwai bow, taken with delight from the magaus’ captured stock earlier, and notched an arrow attached to the cable. While the magaus frustratingly took many hours to mobilize the day before, it gave him the afternoon to fully prepare for an assault on the dark ninja compound. Rifling through the magaus’ weapon supplies and learning about their techniques made him feel normal again for the first time in years. He added his own twist to their supplies—an arrow tip fitted with a special grappling head—just one of the many blades carried on him.
The bell rang from the gatehouse—a crisp, sharp ding. Wong and Renshu looked at each after the third ring.
“Not a drawbridge,” Renshu said.
Wong shrugged. “Good enough for me.”
He put on the refreshed mask of Houzon.
Pulling back hard on the bowstring, he unleashed the arrow, sending it across the moat and into the stakewall. The arrowhead bit deep into a wooden post a few feet from the top. They secured the other end of the Yaje cable to their tree. Wong traded his bow to Koku for a bundle of vine and hooked onto the Yaje cable.
“Wait till I take my weight off the line before you go,” he said to Renshu. “See you on the other side.”
He made sure the path was clear and stepped off the branch, zipping through the air, gliding over the moat, and stopping with both feet against the defensive wall on the other end. Below him, gators stirred, but no additional alarms sounded. He hooked his vine over the top fence post and stepped aside, hanging from his new support.
Renshu hooked onto the cable in turn, waved on by Wong.
“Come, Baifu.”
The little monkey jumped onto his shoulder.
“Good luck,” Koku said.
Renshu stepped off the branch and zipped across the clearing, grabbing Wong’s outstretched hand on the other end. Reaching for a knife by his side, he dug into the wooden post, freeing the arrow with some effort. Across the moat, Koku reeled in the cable, and with it, all evidence of their arrival.
Wong lifted Renshu to the top of the fence where the magau took hold and returned the favor by helping him over the other side. He dropped the bundle of vine from his shoulder and let it fall to the ground before sliding down. Renshu followed. They tucked the vine into the crevice between the logs, which were similar in color, and hoped it wouldn’t be seen—it was their backup plan for escape in case they couldn’t take the drawbridge. Koku would have to fire another Yaje line to get them back across the moat if so, and though filing over the wall and across the moat would leave them horribly exposed, they would have no other choice.
They ran to the building nearest them, a multi-floored structure that housed a host of dark ninjas. They crouched near the base and
hid in its shadow. A moment passed before they felt confident that they weren’t seen.
“Success,” Renshu declared.
The sun was out. The inside of the fortification was not what they expected. Compared to the rough exterior with its crude moat, the inside was quite civil. Numerous shelters were elevated on stilts to avoid rot from the mossy ground, including the one they currently hid behind. Patches of gravel and stone were strewn about public walkways and gathering areas, including a large open space closer to the gatehouse. The dark gray and green ground, coupled with the weathered walls and simple construction, made the place seem more like an earthen ninja village rather than a prison. Outside was home to the unan; this was a reflection of dark ninjas.
They moved along the shelter and ducked under the stilts to hide and look for movement. Razor hounds could be heard far away.
The center of the stockade contained the ninjas’ primary buildings, three in total, much larger than the rest and without stilts. The largest of the three was furthest away from the drawbridge, closest to them, and where they were headed.
They stuck to the perimeter of the encampment with the stakewall on their left, limiting the directions from which they could be seen. Ahead, there was training ground with open space. Logs were stuck in the earth at various heights with their tops flattened. Cross beams and walkways were constructed with hanging ropes, chains, and fighting platforms. The field of obstacles was undoubtedly designed to mimic the challenges of fighting in the forest.
“No more buildings,” Renshu said. “No cover.”
“We’ll have to risk open ground. What do you think? Around the obstacle course, toward the north wall, and then onto the main building?”
“Through the false jungle. No shade, no ninjas.”
“Good point.”
Wong checked the window of their closest shelter for activity before darting across the grounds. Renshu readied his fighting staff and followed close behind with Baifu on his shoulder.
They traversed the maze of logs diagonally. Wong stepped warily around each corner, admirably examining the obstacle course’s construction and deciding it rivaled some of Shaolin’s more complex facilities. A part of him wanted to jump up on a log, flip to a platform, and swing across on a chain to test it out, but he figured the impulse came from Houzon. Renshu almost lashed out at a startling figure, which turned out to be a magau skull stuck on a stake. It was a cold reminder of the compound’s brutality and made him seethe with anger.
Wong paused at the corner of the false jungle and studied the main building for a way in. The structure was several floors high and made of blackish wood, like a hastily created temple with odd angles and mismatched corners. Despite its lack of finesse, there was a palpable presence to it, strong and foreboding.
“Barred windows on the lower floors,” Wong said.
“There is only the one front door to enter.”
“The magaus are down below, right?”
“Yes.”
“We’ll have to climb to the upper terraces to get in. It’s going to be tricky. There aren’t a lot of good footholds.”
“It is easy for magaus and should be for Houzon.”
Wong took off his unwieldy gauntlet to expose his bare hand. He flexed his fingers and picked up a few pieces of gravel.
“I am a master thief.”
Renshu whooped.
The monkey kings darted off.
24
SHIKI CLAMBERED TO the top of the drawbridge wall and listened. There was a dagwai above him and perhaps another close by, but it was difficult to tell because they did not move or make much noise. They were probably fixated on the horizon, distracted by the smoke.
He signaled to his nimble monkey friend, Yingli, who scurried across the drawbridge edge and climbed up to the other side of the gatehouse window. Cautiously, she peeked in and ducked back low, repeating until she had a good feel for what was happening inside. When she was done, she looked at Shiki.
Shiki held up one finger, but Yingli shook her head. He held up two fingers and she nodded. Pointing his finger at the window above his head, Yingli nodded again, and then again when he slid his finger slightly to the left. Shiki readied his Zhigau fighting stave, knowing there were two enemies in the gatehouse and their relative locations: one directly above and the other slightly to his left. He signaled to Jaguan and then to Yingli.
Yingli jumped on the windowsill and made herself known, drawing the attention of the guards. Up came Shiki, spearing the closest dagwai in one swift motion while planting his feet and letting his long knife fly. The second dagwai dropped to the ground.
Jaguan bounced up shortly after. He noted the dead dagwais and lowered the Phoenix Staff.
“Excellent work.”
“Quick. No alarms.”
Jaguan pulled in the vine to cover their tracks while Shiki recovered his knife. They moved over to the other side of the gatehouse and peered out the opposite window overlooking the inner courtyard. It was currently empty.
“Yingli, keep guard,” Shiki said.
The monkey scooted over and perched on the windowsill while Shiki and Jaguan explored the rest of the gatehouse.
They approached a wall full of gears and levers.
“We must learn the functions,” Shiki said.
Jaguan pointed. “This wheel raises the drawbridge, this lever lowers it. See the chains and counterbalances here.”
Shiki looked with interest. “We can lower to free prisoners, raise to keep in ninjas.”
“Yes. Two should be enough to raise the drawbridge judging by the number of dagwais, but let us consider it first. Our mission is to let our party out while preventing the Koon Gee from chasing. Dropping the bridge will be quick, but raising the drawbridge by hand will be too slow if Koon Gee are close behind.”
“What can be done?”
“There may be better ways to accomplish our goals.”
“How?”
Jaguan continued to examine the setup. “I saw the bottom of a gate through the drawbridge entrance. There should be a portcullis to drop, but I don’t see the controls here. Perhaps on the other wall.”
They walked to the opposite wall and saw a smaller set of gears.
“This is it,” Jaguan said. “When we see them coming, we drop the drawbridge to let the prisoners out, then drop the portcullis behind them to prevent chase. It will be quick. The gate should keep the ninjas in for a while.”
Shiki grinned. “We must sabotage after to give more time.”
Jaguan nodded. “Let’s look around to see what else we can do. There are large lanterns outside the gatehouse. They must need oil.”
“Hopefully we are not caught soon.”
They looked back out the window toward the inner stockade. The top of the main building could be seen above the others.
“It’s up to Wong and Renshu now,” Jaguan said.
Renshu hooked onto the underside of the terrace overhang with the curved end of his stave, dangling in midair. He gently twisted his weapon so it bit deeper into the wood, but not too far lest it crack and he fall below. He held out his hand.
“Come.”
Wong grabbed it and swung, finding a temporary hold with the tips of two fingers in the crevice of a crossbeam, then swung again to find a steadier hold in a larger gap. He pressed a leg against the rafters for stronger support and contorted his body so that it was parallel to the earth. With his new view straight down, he saw a dagwai and froze. The lizardman carried a sack and passed by, unaware.
He waved his free hand and caught a lunging Renshu, straining every muscle to keep his hold and swing the magau to the other side. Renshu stretched to catch the face of the terrace with both his foot and hand. He hauled himself up and disappeared with Baifu, who clung tight to his back. Moments later, the Zhigau staff dangled.
> When Wong pulled up to the terrace, Renshu signaled him to stop. Baifu returned, reporting activity around the corner. While the roof terrace was exposed to the sun, the lower terrace was shaded by the upper one, inviting limited dark ninja movement. A few were drawn out, curious about the gatehouse bell.
A doorway could be seen across the way. Getting to it without the ninjas noticing was simple enough, though they did not know what waited for them on the other side. They risked it and hopped over the railing, darting to the entry. A nearby window showed a wide-open space with vertical columns and a staircase to an upper subsection, where a couple more ninjas lurked about. They ducked low and moved on, toward the back of the building.
There was no other door on their side of the building, so they jumped through a window into a large hallway. Wong armed himself with two throwing knives. They passed a perpendicular corridor on their way to the end of the hall and peered around the corner, discovering it connected to an even larger hall with more space. What they needed was a way down.
“No good,” Wong whispered. He pointed the other way. “Corridor.”
Renshu looked hesitant about entering the dark corridor.
Wong moved in front. “I can see.”
The ceiling dropped. There was nowhere to hide if a dark ninja popped out, but fortunately, most were sleeping. Wong took the first right but soon had to crouch, confronted with more open space and half-walls. An adjacent room looked promising, but a dark ninja was in the way. They waited a minute for it to move, but it was resting in a chair against the wall. Wong wondered if it was asleep.
He pulled out a piece of gravel and flicked it down the hall. The ninja didn’t budge. He aimed closer and threw almost too hard, causing the ninja to shoot up. Wong and Renshu ducked and froze. The floor creaked as the ninja took a step toward them, but Wong redirected it by tossing another pebble down the hall. After its steps faded away, they made a dash for the room and were delighted to see a staircase.
Down they rushed. The stairs turned back on itself at each of its platforms, zigzagging down below. They twisted for what seemed like an eternity, made worse by their feeling of vulnerability in the enclosed staircase. When an opening finally appeared, they peeked out to see a colossal training room, much like the obstacle course outside the temple, but much larger and enclosed within four walls. Wong immediately decided they needed to upgrade Shaolin’s facilities.