War (Chi Warriors Book 3)

by Ino Lee

  “Once again they are a step ahead,” Han said.

  “They will not see this latest move in Tanjin,” Jaguan said. “We will give them what they feared.”

  Wong stepped all the way up the stairs and moved to the corner of the room, looking out a window facing Hanai.

  “What is the state of city?” he asked.

  Han answered. “The Poisoned Blood’s treachery has magnified the impact of the invasion force. Hunting down the Koon Gee in the city is difficult. They disappear come morning without a trace and no one knows how to counter this clan. Buildings and garrisons have been destroyed. Even the eastern gate was almost overtaken. They are softening the city’s defenses little by little. I fear to imagine what fifty unan set loose upon the city would do.”

  “What actions have been taken?” Jaguan said.

  “I have sent more troops from the Wall, but don’t know if this can be solved by sheer force.”

  “Can the Wall spare it?”

  “The front on this end appears quiet, at least for now. And Shian and Riyon have made strides to uncover this mystery. Something may turn soon. Riyon is investigating secret information on the Koon Gee from an unlikely source, but we have yet to see.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We don’t know much.”

  “What source?”

  Han hesitated. “That is the hard thing to explain. Riyon went to investigate this morning, but we have our suspicions.”

  Elder Woo’s voice sounded from the pool. “Kai ran away from Shaolin. He is with Hojin in Hanai.”

  “You’re kidding,” Wong finally said. “That’s the source?”

  Jaguan’s face dropped. “Why?”

  “To investigate an echo related to Hojin’s sister,” Gao said. “But they may have stumbled onto something else.”

  The light chuckling sound of a monkey echoed from behind Wong’s mask.

  “Please, Wong,” Jaguan said. “This is no laughing matter.”

  “It is most likely your fault,” Grandmaster Gao said. “Your influence.”

  Wong straightened up. “How was it my fault? I was in the Koon Kagi.”

  “He models your behavior and you ran away all the time from Shaolin when you were young.”

  “I still don’t see how it’s my fault.”

  Elder Woo’s voice took over. “He left behind a note. Can you guess what it said?”

  Wong scratched the chin on his mask as if it were his own. “Hmm. I think somebody’s been reading my journals.”

  “This meeting is losing focus,” Gao said. “We can argue details later, but let us come to a plan of action.”

  Wong slouched back to the wall and sat in the window nook.

  “Tanjin is still the priority,” Jaguan said. “This problem in Hanai is concerning, but regaining Jini and getting the magaus there takes precedence. There’s not much we can do for the city now except to prevent this unan horde from coming through. We should not deviate from this plan. We can help Shian and Riyon stabilize the city after we’ve secured the floodgates.”

  “Agreed,” Gao said.

  “And what about Kai?” Aiying asked.

  Wong spoke softly from the window. “I’ll find him.”

  Renshu protested. “Again this boy? You cannot leave us now. This was your plan.”

  “It’s not about Kai. Kai will be fine. This threat with the Blood Ninjas, though . . . it concerns me. Han was right. It can’t be helped by force. It needs a different approach. It needs me.”

  “I don’t disagree,” Jaguan said. “If there’s anyone who could help with the ninjas, it would be you. But this play on Tanjin was yours. This can be the thing that turns the war.”

  “No, Jaguan. It was not mine. It was ours. It was your belief that made it possible, and why you should lead it.”

  Renshu stood. “You have fought with us all this time. You cannot leave now. The magaus need Houzon.”

  “They already have Renshu.”

  Renshu growled in frustration. “I beat you and say you cannot leave. The magaus need both our strength. Shiki is not here.”

  “You have not seen Jaguan fight with that staff or you would not say so. I assure you—you have enough strength. Xiong is in Tanjin with the Sword of Shaolin, and believe me, his tactical mind for warfare is better than mine. You have the Dragon Arm, and with two hundred and fifty of your best fighters, I will make little difference. But Hanai is another story. I can make a difference there.”

  Aiying grabbed Renshu’s arm. “You will have the Lady of the Painted Tear, as well. The Painted Tear will fight for the magaus, just as Houzon did.”

  Renshu shook his head. “But you are not well.”

  “I will get better. I promised to help and I will. Did you not say so yourself?”

  “I did, but—”

  “Do you doubt my ability? My shot has nothing to do with the lo-shur. This is my chance for atonement.”

  Renshu softened and clasped her hand. “I do not mean to offend. Your help is accepted.”

  “Are you okay with this, Renshu?” Wong said. “You know I would not make this decision if I didn’t have to.”

  Renshu huffed and reluctantly agreed. “You are too weak, anyway. I beat you.”

  Wong shook his head, knowing he would never live down their battle. “Thank you. I’ll come to Tanjin as soon as I can. I promise. You and the magaus have been like family to me.”

  Renshu nodded.

  “Once again you make sense, Wong,” Jaguan said. “Grandmaster, elder, any objections?”

  “No,” Gao said. “This one time, I agree with Wong unconditionally.”

  “And if there was anyone who could find Kai, it would be Wong,” Elder Woo added.

  “It is settled,” Jaguan said. “Once again, Aiying, Renshu, and I will go with the magaus to Tanjin, but Wong will head to Hanai. Han, the Wall is yours.”

  Wong secured his gnarly rooster stave to the side of his horse, making sure the straps were tight enough so that the staff wouldn’t fall out, but not so tight that he would have trouble retrieving it if the need arose. He didn’t expect trouble on the way to Hanai, but couldn’t rule out the possibility of Koon Gee stragglers trying to intercept anything that came from the Great Wall. As a precaution, he kept a long knife and Kunchu hidden underneath a cloak. He figured that the insect’s senses and ability to detect an ambush would be more useful than Shenren’s power or Houzon’s agility, so he stowed the other masks away.

  He didn’t have much else to pack except for a canteen and a sack full of unique collectibles: satchels of mamu powder, herbs and leaves found only in the Koon Kagi, a jar with sembu slugs, a clump of chi mud, some crackers, and a handful of roasted grubs. He supposed he should have collected more after all that time in Tangled Root, but the magaus lived a minimalist lifestyle.

  The thought of returning to Hanai was both exhilarating and terrifying. He loved the city, which had once been his home for many years, but the thought of crowded streets made him uneasy after spending a year in the wild, and even longer in an isolated cabin in Shaolin. Much of his uneasiness probably stemmed from his lack of preparation due to the last minute change in plans, and guilt for having left the magaus at such a critical juncture, though he did not second-guess his decision. An alliance of Poisoned Blood and Koon Gee in Hanai troubled him as much as fifty unan headed to Jini. Shaolin would not understand. They did not know the ninjas like he did.

  A light breeze combed the field and carried a tumultuous scent from afar. Wong wasn’t sure if he imagined it, and would have a hard time describing it if asked, but he always recognized the smell of battle. Perhaps it was a hint of smoke or blood.

  A sharp jab hit him in the rear. He spun around and flinched, long knife in hand, but it was just Aiying with a bow.

  “Now we’re
even.”

  Wong lowered his knife. “I thought we were even when you shot me in the leg.”

  “That was technically the lo-shur.”

  “How many years have you been waiting to do that?”

  “I’ve wanted to shoot you in the leg all my life.”

  Wong laughed. “Now you’re getting my humor.”

  “I just came to say thank you before you left. For bringing me back.”

  She hugged him.

  “Watch Renshu’s back,” Wong said. “That will be thanks enough.”

  Aiying nodded.

  Wong boarded the horse. “You’re still the best shot in Shaolin.”

  “Even when you were there?”

  Wong smiled. “Why’d you think I had to cheat?”

  “Those times in Shaolin seem so long ago . . . you know, what the elders said, I remember you running away all the time. What was it that you used to write on your runaway notes?”

  “Gone fishing.”

  He lightly kicked the horse and galloped away.

  27

  THE LIGHTS OF Hanai glimmered, the flickering beacons of flame calling Wong home from a long bout away. He felt his apprehension melt away and the energy of the city return—the sights and sounds, the endless possibilities waiting around each corner. He nudged his horse a little faster down the main road, eager to make his reunion.

  A voice called out to him near the gates. “Halt. Identify yourself.”

  Wong stopped and lifted his hands from beneath his cloak. “I come from the Wall.”

  A couple light orbs flared behind him, searching for signs of ambush. He thought he could hear archers pulling back on their bowstrings. Another orb appeared closer to his face and caused him to flinch underneath his hood.

  “Can I speak to the lead from Shaolin?” Wong called out. “I must speak with someone from Shaolin.”

  A few minutes passed. Perhaps climbing over the wall would have been easier. He thought to say something more, but someone spoke first.

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “Call off the orbs and I’ll tell you.”

  The lights went out. Wong was able to use his night vision to see more clearly through the gates.

  He raised his hands. “Lu-feng, I’m going to approach the gates. I’d prefer an audience with just you.”

  Lu-feng tried to make out his face, but couldn’t see past the hood in the dark. He sent away the other soldiers and waved the stranger forward anyway, being behind bars and finding something familiar about his voice.

  Wong approached slowly. Lu-feng waited with his arms crossed and his sword sheathed.

  “Lu-feng, you really should be more careful, being called out as the lead from Shaolin, and facing a stranger in the dark. The Blood would not hesitate to take advantage.”

  “I like to live dangerously. Plus, I thought I recognized your voice . . . Weapons Master.”

  “I haven’t heard that name in a while.”

  “Do you still have the skills? We could use some help on this side.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  “What’s with the secrecy? I’m surprised you’re here. Why weren’t we sent word?”

  Wong spoke softly. “I have to keep a low profile. The Koon Gee can’t know I’ve left the Koon Kagi, at least for now.”

  Lu-feng nodded, understanding the plan to reinforce Tanjin. He signaled the guards to open the gate. Wong brought his horse through and followed Lu-feng to a secluded area before dismounting.

  “What’s been happening here?”

  “It’s quiet tonight, but there’s bound to be action in the city.”

  “How did you draw gate duty?”

  “They almost overtook it the other day. Shian and Riyon want someone around in case they try to finish it off.”

  Wong looked around at the damage. “I see.”

  “It’s good to have you here. This isn’t a normal fight. This is the kind of warfare that could use your expertise.”

  “Cloak-and-dagger warfare?”

  “Precisely. What’s your plan? Will you join us?”

  Wong shook his head. “Like you said: This isn’t a normal fight. The problem with the Blood runs deep. I need answers that won’t be found fighting alongside the Shaolin contingent; they must be found covertly.”

  “Understood. Anything I could do for you?”

  “Take care of the horse for me? I rode pretty hard from the Wall and could use a walk through town anyway.”

  Lu-feng agreed and helped Wong gather his belongings, then wished him well before parting.

  Wong walked briskly through dormant streets. The city wasn’t as active as he was expecting, providing him with a less than authentic experience, though it was probably better that way. His mind was still tuned to the forests of the Koon Kagi, where the slightest sound or movement could spell death. Even the bustle of a quiet city was enough to flood his senses, and active streets would have only overwhelmed him. If he were wearing Kunchu, he’d probably have gone mad. How did he ever function in such an environment? He wanted to turn back, but figured he just needed time to adapt.

  He retreated to the rooftops to readjust and take in all of the city at once, tired of the restricted views of building walls; it was reminiscent of climbing to the top of tall trees in Tangled Root so he could see above the forest canopy. The moon was out and the stars seemed brighter than usual, casting a soft glow on miles of rooftop tiles. The clean lines were a nice change from the jungle chaos. Perhaps there was something to this world, after all. He remembered his love of Hanai and felt a different kind of connection, one where harmony with nature was replaced with the joy of uncluttered man-made design. He leaned back on an inclined roof to meditate and absorb the city’s essence.

  Monk light appeared in the sky, further north from where he was. Wong rose to his feet and fixated on the beacon, triangulating the position of the monk before the light disappeared. When it was gone, he instinctively knew he would investigate and help. He wanted to put on Houzon and test his abilities in a city setting, but he was supposed to remain unseen until the magaus had reached Tanjin. A new identity was needed. He scanned his surroundings and tried to recall landmarks of his past.

  He took off again with his sights set on a pagoda tower, feeling clumsy as he ran across the rooftops with his cloak, pack, and rooster stave. After he had crossed multiple city blocks, he reached the pagoda and climbed to the terrace on the top floor. The landing looked like it had not been disturbed in ages, which made sense since there were no stairs to get there, the top eave cut off from the rest of the building. The construction on that floor was only twelve square feet, whereas the five-story building was fifty square feet at its base, each floor successively smaller than the one before it. Windows with locked wooden shutters surrounded the entire structure. Wong ran his fingers along the siding and opened a false wall, revealing a door that contained his signature puzzle lock. After fidgeting with the locks and turning a hidden switch, the door popped open.

  Wong stepped inside and coughed; the room smelled of old dust. He opened a couple windows to let in light from the nighttime sky, and smiled at what he saw. A built-in shelf was filled with shuriken. Hanging on another wall was a bow and a kasurigama—a sickle attached to a chain with a weighted end. The bow was useless since it needed maintenance and had no arrows, but the kasurigama’s steel was sharp and rust-free. A third wall contained a shelf full of bottled poisons and antidotes—though most had probably gone bad—and on the fourth wall hung the most important item of them all: a ninja uniform capable of concealing his identity. The top floor of the pagoda tower was no ordinary room. It was a secret outpost, one of many in the city, useful for lookout and restocking when patrolling Hanai in his former life.

  He dropped his belongings and changed, grabbing the kasurigama off the wal
l and fitting his belts with shuriken. It was nice to have a different choice of weapons than what was available in Tangled Root, though by his standards, the station was only barely equipped. He left the building and took to the rooftops again, bearing toward the scene of the alarm.

  The soft patter of tiles beat beneath his ninja steps and brought back forgotten memories. The feel of the rooftop, the light of the moon, and the electric in the air all felt familiar as he charged into battle. Anticipation grew and the danger of demons suddenly felt real. He readied his sickle in hand. Tonight, he would do battle in the city.

  He was home.

  Battle sounds could be heard in an alley. Wong tiptoed along the edge of a roof and surveyed the area, finding ninjas engaged with city guards and Shaolin warriors in tight quarters.

  Wonderful.

  He leapt into the murderous pit and whipped his sickle into the back of an unsuspecting ninja. A window sill made for a nice landing before jumping again and pulling the chain to dislodge his blade. He sent it slashing across the ground, scattering nearby ninjas. They charged when he landed, and he yanked back on the sickle to take out another’s leg.

  An opponent caught up to him with swipes of katana. Wong dodged and parried with the weighted end of his chain, swirling it in the air before wrapping it around the next sword attack and pulling the ninja into his flying knee. Bone cracked. He grabbed the fallen ninja’s katana and took on another, which didn’t last long against his sword and chain.

  Two city guards stood nearby and watched him take out the ninjas in awe. They were unsure of what to make of him because of his ninja outfit and guarded with their swords up when he looked at them, even though he fought on their side.

  Wong gestured down the alley. “Together.”

  The guards accepted his request and were off. Wong dropped his sword and gathered his kasurigama, unleashing it high into the alleyway building’s facade. He pulled the chain as leverage to lift him up onto the side of the wall, where he ran and launched into the air for a better look at the crowded alley. Tonkaijas were identified. He reached for his belt and unleashed three shuriken in rapid succession, hitting tonkaija engaged with Shaolin warriors and city guards. He didn’t need to kill them outright, just slow them down long enough for his comrades to finish the job.