Reflection

by Elizabeth Lim

  At last, she saw the River of Hopelessness again. This time, its magical waters coursed in midair, a ribbon of black silk looping through the clouds—so high it intersected the volcano at its peak.

  Yet as her eyes followed the river, she saw that the peak was the only place it flowed on land. On the side facing them, the river streamed lower, snaking over the sides of the mountain. Not too far ahead, in fact, it loomed so low that its width obscured her view of the sky. She could almost feel the spray of its icy waters on her face.

  As they began their climb up the volcano, she was sure the earth wobbled. No, quaked.

  Mulan and Shang exchanged a worried look.

  The ground rumbled again. Mulan stumbled but caught her balance. She stole a glimpse over her shoulder, but she had a sinking feeling she knew what she would see.

  Sure enough, the wooden door had vanished.

  “It looks like that’s where we have to go,” said Shang grimly. He pointed at the volcano’s peak, where a black stone pillar stretched into the sky.

  “Maybe that’s what the door was trying to tell us,” ShiShi said. “That has to be the way to Youdu.”

  “I don’t know,” Shang said hesitantly. “I say we turn around.”

  “We can’t,” said ShiShi, cocking his head at the vanished door. The lion’s sharp eyes focused on the black pillar crowning the top of the volcano. “There are stairs cut into that pillar that spiral upward. I’ll wager we have to climb it to reach the next level.”

  Shang opened his mouth to say something, but orange light suddenly reflected in his eyes, followed by an explosive blast from the sky. Mulan spun, and her heels rocked back as a blast of fire hurtled down from the clouds.

  “Take cover!” Shang shouted.

  Mulan dove. If not for the River of Hopelessness thrashing above her, the fireball would have scorched her. Instead, it slammed into the river’s waters and sizzled with a hiss.

  Shakily, she pulled herself to her feet. “What was that?”

  “I don’t know,” said Shang. “It looked like fire falling from the sky.”

  “Maybe it was just lightning,” ShiShi suggested, but his deep voice trembled.

  “Maybe.” Shang waited. “It seems to have stopped.”

  “I don’t think it was lightning,” Mulan said. “I’m beginning to think that warning was on the door for a reason.”

  “Then we make for the pillar now,” Shang said. “Stay close behind me, and stay under the river.”

  Mulan nodded, but she knew he was trying to sound brave for her and ShiShi’s sakes. Anyone could see that the River of Hopelessness would shield them only for a short while.

  They’d have to make the best of it. Once they reached the volcano’s summit, the river wouldn’t be their shield at all. It’d be their obstacle. For on the summit, it no longer floated above; it slammed into the mountaintop, gushing across the mouth of the volcano. Even from where she stood, Mulan could hear the river cutting across the rock with enormous power, like a jagged piece of metal ripping through sand. She couldn’t see its waters swirling across the peak, not yet. But what she could see was the river spilling off the peak, cascading down into a great black waterfall.

  The sight of it all prompted a new worry to crawl inside her gut.

  The pillar was on the peak. If the river crashed there, it would likely obstruct their path. They might have to cross it.

  Worry about that later, Mulan. We have to reach the top first.

  Sweat prickled her neck and forehead. Her palms were warm, her gauntlets clinging to the backs of her hand. With each breath, the air grew thicker and thicker.

  The smell of incense was long gone, but Mulan sensed something else in the air. “Do you smell that?”

  “Smoke,” Shang murmured.

  “And firewood,” added ShiShi.

  The higher they climbed, the stronger the wind became. The path was rocky and steep, with boulders and storms of pebbles tumbling down as they went up. But after the Mountain of Knives, Mulan hiked up without much trouble. The only difficulties were avoiding the fireballs and not stepping into the glistening streams of lava.

  Halfway up the volcano, they moved out of the river’s protection; it coursed left, looping higher into the clouds.

  They’d need to be careful. Mulan covered her mouth with her hand, trying to shield herself from the gray snow spilling from the sky.

  ShiShi had to shake his mane free of the stuff every few steps. “Confounded snow,” he growled. “Only in Diyu would it snow on a volcano.”

  “It’s not snow,” Mulan said, catching a handful and sifting it through her fingers. “It’s ash.”

  “Ash?” ShiShi sniffed. “There’s far too much to be ash. Next you’ll say all these rocks on the ground aren’t rocks.”

  She bent to pick up one of the black sticks that’d started appearing all around them. At first she’d thought they were oddly shaped rocks, but as soon as she saw the skull—

  “They’re bones,” she whispered. “Demon bones. What could kill demons in Diyu?”

  She wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

  ShiShi sniffed. His round, golden eyes blinked, and he looked worried.

  “What is it?” Shang asked.

  “We should turn back.”

  “You just said we couldn’t.”

  “I changed my mind,” said the lion hastily. “Come now, let’s find another way.”

  “We’re so close,” Mulan argued. The moon was nearly black. Only a thin crescent still glimmered in the sky. “We don’t have time to turn back. We’re almost there.”

  “Listen to me, girl,” ShiShi barked. “You don’t want to face what is on the top of this volcano. Trust me.”

  Another fiery blast sliced the air. The impact knocked Mulan off her feet, just missing her. The blast of fire smoked and sizzled, charring the rocks and bones with its heat.

  Then came another burst, and another.

  “Run!” ShiShi bellowed. “He’s seen us.”

  “Who?”

  Before Mulan could get her answer, an earth-shattering roar ripped through their conversation, sending spikes of fear down her spine.

  ShiShi scraped his claws into the ground to balance himself. His fur stood on its ends. “Huoguai,” he whispered. “A fire demon.”

  A wall of fire sprang up from the ground, separating her from Shang and ShiShi. The burst of heat sent Mulan reeling back, and the flames temporarily blinded her. She had never seen fire so powerful and alive. It danced, overwhelming the sky with its brightness and intensity. Black clouds of smoke on the top of the wall bloomed up into the night.

  “Shang? ShiShi?”

  The fire rippled and crackled, snuffing out the sound of her voice.

  Mulan gritted her teeth. The wall was too high to vault across, the flames far too strong to put out. The blaze was so thick she couldn’t even see Shang or ShiShi on the other side.

  “What do you want?” she shouted at the fire.

  The fire swayed, as if laughing.

  “Who are you?”

  Within the blaze’s walls formed the terrible Huoguai. His head blazed with fire, his scaled body red as blood. A fierce, pointed tail whipped behind him, its movement sharp like a stab of lightning. And on his back were wings made of smoke.

  Huoguai opened his wings, spreading them from one edge of the wall to the other. Smoke wisped from his wings, but underneath was a web of bone and muscle. With a violent shudder, he clapped his wings back. The wall of fire crashed down, a blinding sheet of flames. Molten rubble sprang up with a hiss. The earth boomed.

  Mulan stumbled wildly as the ground cracked. The fallen wall was now a sea of flames. It spread hungrily, washing out everything in its path.

  Light sparked in Huoguai’s hollow black eyes. He gathered his wings, surged from the sea of fire, and snatched Mulan with one sharp talon on his hand. He closed his fist around her waist. Up and up he flew, as the world beneath her crumbled, taking Shang and S
hiShi with it.

  Mulan writhed, wrestling Huoguai’s claws for a way out of his grip. His fingers were thick and bulbous as a tiger’s, and his talons alone were bigger than her hands. He was all scales and smoke. Touching his skin scalded her. Breathing pinched her lungs.

  She desperately reached for the sword at her hip. No use. Even if she could get to it, Huoguai had wrapped his fingers so tight around her waist he could easily have snapped her in half.

  They swooped up. The volcano’s rocky face rushed in front of her, followed by a wave of heat. When the smoke cleared, she could see the volcano’s expanse from their height in the sky. Here, the river no longer hung in the sky. It gushed over the mountain, blanketing its shiny orange and red streams of lava. As her feet dangled precipitously over its waters, she spotted the black pillar on the other side of the river.

  Huoguai had flown them to the peak.

  She squirmed again, trying to twist her way out so she could see her friends. “Let me go!” she shouted. “Let me—”

  Her shouts became a gasp when the fire demon suddenly dropped her.

  It wasn’t a fatally high drop, but it was painful. Mulan landed on a harsh bed of rock and bones. Her sword clattered next to her on the volcano’s wide rim. She lifted her head first, then her hands and legs. Nothing was broken, but she winced as she moved her ankle. The fall hadn’t helped it. If not for her armor, she might have hit one of the rocks and suffered worse.

  She looked up. The sky was bloodshot, and she saw Huoguai disappear into the clouds, his wings beating a powerful torrent of embers and ash swept up from the volcano.

  The ground steamed, the pale gold ribbons in the rock shiny with heat. Around her were more charred bones, cracked demon skulls, and battered shields and spearheads. Smoke hissed from the rocks, and molten stone bubbled within the cracks in the ground. Craters as wide as ponds dimpled the surface, boiling with the earth’s red-hot soup. Columns of black rock veined with glowing red lava protruded from the summit.

  The Chamber of Boiling Despair, she remembered with a shudder. This is what Mei tried to warn us about. This volcano must be the Cauldron.

  From below, she’d thought that the volcano’s peak was flat. Now that she was at the top, she realized she’d been wrong. The ground sloped inward like a bowl. Like the cauldron it’d been named for.

  And she’d landed on its rim.

  Mulan pulled herself up and reached for her sword. Bruises splotched her body, but she ignored the pain and ran to the edge of the rim to search for Shang and ShiShi.

  No sign of them. Or of Huoguai.

  Smoke curled everywhere, obscuring her vision.

  She clenched her fists. The last time she’d seen Shang and ShiShi, the demon’s fire had ruptured the ground. Maybe they had fallen deeper into Diyu. Maybe they were dead.

  They’re still alive, Mulan told herself. They have to be.

  But even if Shang and ShiShi were alive, could she find them from up on the peak? Why had Huoguai dropped her off here?

  Probably so he can come back for me later, she thought with a shiver.

  Fear wrenched Mulan’s gut. How could she defeat a demon powerful enough to split the earth, and strong enough to toss them about as if they were mere checkers pieces?

  She coughed, holding her sleeve up to her mouth to keep the ash out of her lungs. She needed to get to the pillar. Reaching it had been their goal before they’d gotten separated, and if there were hope of reuniting with her friends, it’d be there.

  As some of the smoke cleared, Mulan took a good, hard look at the pillar. As she’d feared, the pillar was on the opposite side of the River of Hopelessness. Its swirling waters surged across the center of the Cauldron, then plunged off the edge in a black, looming waterfall. Shrill screams resonated from its depths.

  Maybe there’s a way around it, she thought with a gulp.

  The smoke thickened. Mulan coughed and trod onward, fanning the air with her hands. She spotted an old shield left behind and picked it up. Scorch marks blackened the iron surface, but at least it would protect her as she searched for her friends.

  Fire lit the sky.

  “Huoguai,” Mulan said, recognizing the swirls of smoke and fire. They were coming from below. She ran to the brink of the Cauldron to get a better look.

  Her heart jumped when she spotted Shang and ShiShi on a ledge halfway up the Cauldron. They hadn’t fallen after all!

  “Shang!” she shouted. “I’m here!”

  Shang, who’d just picked up a spear, heard her. “Mulan! We’re—”

  From out of the shadow, Huoguai drew himself up. Against the mountain, Mulan took account of his staggering size. His feet were planted on the ledge, but the tips of his wings nearly reached the top of the Cauldron. Mulan ducked before he grabbed her again. Huoguai raised his wings and punched the side of the mountain. Boulders flew. ShiShi roared, his claws scraping against the ground with a terrible screech. Shang managed to keep his balance. He held his spear above his head, and with one strong swoop, he threw it at Huoguai’s head.

  The weapon lodged itself in the demon’s left eye. With a thundering scream, Huoguai plucked the spear out of his eye and burned the weapon in his hands. The spear’s ashes skated across the wind.

  Huoguai turned to Shang and ShiShi and opened his mouth again, breathing another terrible blaze. The flames snaked across the side of the volcano. They couldn’t harm Shang. But ShiShi let out a yelp when the fire singed his mane.

  Huoguai flew at them. Fiery rocks ripped from the sky, rocketing down to smash Shang and ShiShi. He was playing with them, Mulan realized. Huoguai had countless opportunities to kill ShiShi—and her. But by separating them and toying with them, he was drawing out the inevitable.

  That was why he had dropped her off on the peak—on the wrong side of the peak. To torment her, and remind her that time was running out.

  Set against the bloodshot sky, the moon tantalized Mulan with its closeness. It was nearly cloaked in shadow, a sliver of its silvery light burnished with the demon’s fire.

  She had to do something.

  Huoguai lifted his wing and struck at the captain, hurling him deeper into the Underworld. How Mulan wished Shang had learned to float and fly! As the ground shook, he tumbled down the mountain along with ShiShi. If they fell into the river…

  “Hey!” Mulan shouted to the demon. “It’s me you want. Not them.”

  The fire demon’s coal-black eyes turned to her. They glowed like embers, and the fire in his hands strengthened. Mulan ducked behind her shield, barely evading the column of flames Huoguai blasted her way.

  He didn’t stop. Mulan held her shield tight to her chest, bending her head behind it. She smelled her hair burning and snuffed out the ends. Mulan counted the rhythm of the demon’s attacks. When she gathered enough courage, she waited for the rest between blasts, then ran.

  Keep his attention away from Shang and ShiShi, she thought frantically as she dashed across the summit. Give them time to climb back to safety.

  Huoguai’s hands flared, hurling streams of fire her way. The ground quaked again. Mulan couldn’t afford to stumble. She widened her stride, pushing through the sharp twinges of pain in her ankle and running until she reached the end of the Cauldron’s rim.

  Then the blasts of fire stopped. The glow in Huoguai’s black eyes disappeared. His eyes darkened, hollow and cold. He lowered his hand, and instead his body shook in laughter. The wind rippled, and the sky thundered.

  Mulan backed up until she stood on the brink of the Cauldron. One more step back, and she’d tumble into the river. Not good.

  The river smothered the Cauldron’s mouth, a giant crater in the center of the peak, but smaller craters had formed along the rim. They bubbled and spurted now with bright, hot lava.

  Mulan stumbled forward, her balance wobbling as the ground trembled.

  Demon soldiers surged up from the craters and rocks! They barged onto the volcano, surrounding Mulan and closing in on he
r.

  Unlike King Yama’s or Meng Po’s demons, the fire demon’s soldiers wore no armor. Their faces were scorched red like Huoguai’s, but their eyes were gray and vacant, their noses hollow—like skulls. Born from the Cauldron to do Huoguai’s bidding, they looked more like monsters than animals—their chests bore scabs and burns like art or markers of identification. Some carried swords, others carried spears, and more than a few carried thick chain whips. The closest demon lashed his whip against the rock, unleashing a gust of searing debris that flew into Mulan’s face.

  “Ahh!” Mulan cried as the debris stung her cheeks. She blocked her face with her hand, then glanced back at the edge of the Cauldron. The river cut off her path down the mountain.

  Nowhere to run. But if she stayed here, could she fight the demons and win—while having time to reach the pillar?

  The demons sneered at her. “Not even the ghosts come here,” one growled. “What brings you, mortal soldier? Are you in the mood to die?”

  “He looks afraid. Look at the quaking legs. A bit scrawny.”

  “Don’t complain. It isn’t often Huoguai gives us a feast.”

  “I’m going to slice his arms and drink his blood.”

  “I’m going to roast him on a spit.”

  “Save me his eyeballs. I love eyeballs. It’s been so long since I’ve had some.”

  “Too long,” his comrade agreed. “The last one carried a sword, too.”

  “More like a toothpick.”

  “I could use a new toothpick.”

  Mulan thought fast. The only way off this volcano was to jump off. Even if there weren’t streams of lava and jagged, toothy precipices awaiting her below, leaving the Cauldron wouldn’t have been an option. She needed to get across the river.

  Not far away, she heard Shang’s lion guardian scraping his way up the opposite side of the mountain. She could barely see him; the river’s murky waters separated them like a wall. Smoke clung to his ruffled fur, and his sharp nails cut across the black mountain face.

  “ShiShi!” Mulan cried.