ShiShi lifted his head when he heard her. His eyes widened when he saw the demons behind her.
“Behind you!” the lion yelled. “Use your sword!” Wind muffled his next words. All she could hear was something about “magic” and “demons.”
One of the demon’s chains wrapped over Mulan’s waist, pulling her away from the edge. She rocked back on her heels, digging them into the dirt to slow herself from being dragged.
She hacked at the metal chain with her blade. Tossing its remains on the ground with a clatter, she stared defiantly at the demons. She didn’t know which one had tried to pull her back, but their message was clear. Time to fight.
She staggered to regain her balance and tightened her grip on her sword. The hilt was warm from the fire and heat. The characters engraved on the steel shone.
Use your sword, ShiShi had said. What was that supposed to mean? She’d been fighting with it all this time. What did she need to do differently?
Mulan rubbed the steam off her blade. “The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all,” she murmured, reading the quotation engraved on it again. The words didn’t give her any secret key to defeating the demons.
She returned her attention to the demons. One in the front row spat, his webbed feet sinking deep into the sizzling ground. The rest lashed at her feet with their chains, taunting her as she jumped out of the way. She staggered back, almost slipping thanks to a pile of bones.
“Look at him dance.” They laughed. “Don’t fall off the cliff, human. You need to roast a bit first.”
She inhaled and glanced at her reflection in her sword. Dirt smudged her cheeks. Sweat dribbled down her temples, and her arms writhed with fatigue. She looked tired—and afraid.
Not exactly the rare and beautiful flower this sword’s been waiting for, thought Mulan. But if I think like that, I’m never going to defeat these demons.
She looked down at her hands. They were clasping the sword so tight her knuckles were white. She swallowed. I can’t be afraid. If I am, all is lost.
The sword had glowed earlier, when Mulan faced the bandit ghosts. What had she done to invoke its power?
I’d been trying to protect my friends, she remembered. The bandits attacked, and I just raised the sword without knowing its power.
Maybe that was the key. Skill wasn’t enough to bring the sword alive; it was her courage and strength—her need to save Shang and ShiShi from Huoguai, and take Shang back to the real world where he was still needed. Instinct had overcome doubt.
With a nod to herself, she raised the sword high above her head. I need to get to Huoguai so I can protect my friends, she thought. Help me, please.
As before, slowly the sword began to glow. Mulan faced her opponents, her confidence returning. “You want to fight? Then come get me.”
The demons hissed. They grunted and shuffled their feet, preparing to charge. But as they lunged for Mulan, her blade burned brighter than the lava spitting from the ground, brighter even than Huoguai’s fire.
The demons recoiled at its brightness. “Stop! I can’t see!”
Pressing her sword’s hilt against her ribs, she charged between two of the demons, slashing their sides with her blade. Ash spilled from the demons’ guts, and they howled with surprise.
Mulan dodged as they attacked her blindly. A few ran too far, tripping over the edge of the rim and tumbling off the mountainside.
“Look away!” one of the demons shouted, blocking his view of her sword with his shield. “He has the sword, the Sword of the Blazing Sun.”
“The hero of legend has returned!” the demons screeched.
“The hero with the Sword of the Blazing Sun!”
Mulan’s ears perked. The hero with the Sword of the Blazing Sun? Her father used to tell her a story about a hero, half man and half god, who had lived thousands of years ago, when monsters and demons still roamed China’s lands. The Emperor had asked the demigod, who was known everywhere in China for his great fighting prowess, to expunge the monsters that terrorized China and send them into Diyu. The Emperor, who also had powers from the heavens, gave the demigod a magical sword that glowed with the light of the sun. It could cut through anything, even the swords of demons and ghosts. But only the demigod could unlock its power.
Mulan had always thought the story was only a legend. But could it be that the sword she’d found was the same one? Maybe the demigod had left it in Diyu when he died. In her tales of the Underworld, Grandmother Fa always mentioned that even heroes and famous warriors spent time in Diyu.
It’s not like you can ask any anyone your questions right now, Mulan scolded herself. Focus on the fight!
She stomped on one of the demon’s chains. The rest of the demons stepped back, putting a good distance between them and her.
Making use of the break, Mulan untied the knot on her head. Her hair tumbled down again, brushing against the nape of her neck. She unfastened her armor, freeing her shoulders of their heavy burden.
The demons watched her in disbelief. “A girl?”
“I am Mulan.” She raised her sword high. She’d never fought as herself before—as a woman, not a woman pretending to be a man. No more hiding, no more pretending. No more fears that she’d endanger herself and her family.
She was who she’d always wanted to be.
Even if that feeling could only last here in Diyu—even if they made it back to the real world and she had to go back to pretending to be Ping, Mulan knew she’d never forget it. Taking off that mask was exhilarating; it spurred her courage.
Her sword blazed brighter than ever before. The demons raised their shields to protect themselves from her sword’s glare. “I am trying to reach the portal with my friends,” Mulan shouted over their cries. “I give you this one opportunity to leave in peace.”
“You think we’re afraid of a girl?”
“No one wants to accept my offer?” Mulan scraped her boots against the rock. “Your loss.”
With a unanimous howl, the demons charged.
Have courage.
She half closed her eyes, remembering her months training under Shang’s command. He’d taught his soldiers to outrun an onslaught of burning arrows, to turn a simple wooden pole into a deadly weapon, to fire arrows into pomegranates in midair.
All achievements she’d thought were impossible. Until they weren’t.
Speed, endurance, strength. Precision, focus, confidence, Mulan told herself. I am the coursing river, the raging fire. I am the warrior.
She waited until the demons were close enough that she could smell their rotten breath. Now! Mulan thrust her sword into the lava streaming through the rock and heaved upward, swooping the burning embers into the demons’ eyes.
They screamed, wailing in pain and flailing for their eyes. A few still attacked, shoving their swords and spears blindly in her direction. Mulan picked her first target. She swept a foot forward and lunged, countered one demon’s attack, and then kicked him in the shin and tripped him. He fell over the ledge.
Like with the ghost bandits, she slashed through the demons’ spears and whips and swords. This surprised Huoguai’s soldiers, and she destroyed as many of their weapons as she could before the demons had recovered from her initial attack.
Larger demons appeared, emerging from the boiling craters. They looked much like the others, except they had odd numbers of eyes and arms and ears that looked stitched together out of different creatures—part bear, part tiger, part snake.
She gripped her shield, kept it high over her chest. The demons were large and powerful. They attacked high, above her ribs and side. Their only weakness was their lack of speed. Mulan needed to use her smaller size to her advantage. She was able to evade most of their attacks with her nimble footwork and quick thinking. She even managed to make two of the demons accidentally strike each other by ducking right before they swung at her. But she knew it was only a matter of time before they defeated her.
&nbs
p; Her wrists started to tire from the thrusting and blocking. The arm carrying her shield shuddered every time a spear or sword jabbed at it. Her muscles tightened, and her grip faltered. Someone’s chain whip lashed her arm, and she cried out in pain.
Ignoring the searing pain in her arm, Mulan dropped the shield. She couldn’t carry it anymore. She’d have to use only her sword.
The demons could sense her tiring. They flanked her, three on each side.
“She’s weak,” they said. “Let’s finish her off!”
They attacked, but she was ready for them. She ducked and drew a sharp arc across their calves. Ash poured out instead of blood. From their screams, she knew she’d hurt them.
Hurting them wasn’t the goal. Stopping them was.
She was gaining ground. Holding her palm to the flat of her blade, she pushed the closest demon into the bubbling crater. Another whipped her back with his chain.
Mulan arched in pain, feeling the searing lash cut into her flesh. The demon laughed, and down came his chain again. This time, Mulan jumped to the side and blocked the chain with her sword, catching it in the blade. She yanked the chain away and coiled it over her wrist.
Shang should’ve included these in our training, she thought as she caught her breath. If I get out of here, I’ll bring it up.
She charged at the closest two demons, wrapping the chain around their legs as she dodged their attacks. Then, as they stumbled toward her, she blocked their attacks and pushed them off the Cauldron. One by one, they fell, but Mulan didn’t give herself a moment to rejoice. She’d learned from that mistake the first time—with Shan-Yu.
One last demon awaited her. It was just her luck that he was also the biggest. She threw her shoulders back so she looked bigger than she was and copied ShiShi’s best, most intimidating snarl.
The demon roared in response. His sword was as broad as her face, and it whooshed in the air whenever he swung. Mulan darted away as he attacked, dodging and crouching as the demon heaved his sword at her head. As he charged, she pivoted away from the brink and ducked, only letting herself breathe when the demon slipped and tumbled off the Cauldron.
Panting, Mulan bent over her knees. Her sweat dripped onto the ground. Quickly, she caught her breath and scoured the area for signs of Shang and ShiShi.
She trained her eyes on Huoguai’s wings gliding above the volcano, then on Shang’s luminous blue form, and ShiShi’s tattered golden mane. The fire demon must have been after Shang and ShiShi this entire time, but to her relief, her friends had managed to evade him and climb back up onto the top of the Cauldron. They were on the other side—the right side of the river. The pillar leading up to Youdu was just behind them.
So why weren’t they leaving?
“Go!” Mulan shouted. “This is your chance!”
The wind swallowed her words, but Shang turned to her. His brow furrowed.
We’re not leaving without you, his expression read.
“No,” Mulan said under her breath. But she knew Shang was stubborn, just as stubborn as she.
Her friends couldn’t defeat Huoguai without her help, but she couldn’t help them from here. She had to cross the River of Hopelessness. Somehow.
Quickly, Mulan charted a path toward the river, running from rock to rock and hiding behind them so she wouldn’t attract the fire demon’s attention. Getting to the river was the easy part. How she’d cross it was another story.
She’d have to figure it out, and soon. Before Huoguai killed Shang and ShiShi, or threw them into the river’s treacherous black waters—and everything was lost.
Mulan could not find a way to cross the river and reach her friends. Here on the Cauldron, the river was too wide, the waters too treacherous. There was no way to swim across, and nothing she could use to build a raft.
On the other side of the Cauldron, Shang rammed another spear into Huoguai’s wings, then swiped the spear right, creating a tear that Mulan could hear even over the river’s thundering waters. With a savage shriek, Huoguai jolted into the air and ignited his injured wing with his breath. When the flames smoldered out, he was whole again.
Smoke unfurled from his wings—a gathering storm. With a flash, Huoguai opened them and swooped for Shang.
The captain jumped, barely missing him.
Huoguai dangled in midair before diving again. Fire coursed through his veins, rippling across his red, inflamed head and muscular arms. His tail plunged down upon the rocks, smashing them and everything around them. Compared to Huoguai, even ShiShi seemed tiny. As the lion raced out of the demon’s path of destruction, Mulan saw Shang prepare for another attack.
I have to help them, Mulan thought in a panic. I have to get across.
But how? This chamber was a desolate place. Nothing but bones, abandoned weapons, craters, rocks, those tubelike columns—
The columns!
They jutted from the earth, thin and pointed, almost like the stalactites in the cave that led to Diyu. Mulan started for the tallest one around. It was at least twice her height, which was about half as wide as the river. Just thin enough it might work. Shoulders heaving, she lifted her sword and struck the column at its base.
It was lighter than it looked. Not the sturdiest pole, either. Too chalky. Any other time, she might have worried about it snapping in two, but it would have to do.
Mulan backed up and tied her sword to her side. Holding the stone pole at her shoulders, half of it above her head, she sprinted as fast as could for the edge of the River of Hopelessness.
Seconds stretched.
Kicking one knee up to drive her higher into the air, she jumped and pushed the end of the pole down into the river, feeling it stick to the crater’s surface. The icy water stung the back of her legs, forcing a gasp out of her lungs. She only had moments before the pole would topple.
If she fell in, she’d be lost in Diyu forever.
She snapped her hands and legs together. The river pounded, thrashing at her ankles. The screams she’d heard earlier grew louder, resonating from the ghosts trapped in the water. She didn’t dare look down. Her eyes were fixed on the other side of the river.
All that mattered was getting across. Getting to Shang and ShiShi.
Her arms burned as she swung her body forward, gathering momentum. With a grunt, she threw herself as far across as she could reach. Mist from the river folded over her, blurring her vision. That was the most terrifying part—not being able to see. Not knowing whether to treasure this moment as her precious last. Whether the river would devour her next breath, whether she’d never see her friends again.
Then it was over. Her body slammed onto the other side of the Cauldron.
ShiShi grabbed her by his teeth, pulled her away from the edge. He pressed her against the back of a rock. “Hide before he sees you.”
“We need to get to the pillar,” Mulan said, shivering. Her hands still gripped the pole tight. She dropped it and allowed herself one breath to recover. “I can distract him.”
“No,” said Shang. “Huoguai will see you. He’s guarding the pillar. Any time we try to get close, he attacks. He’s too strong.”
“He has to have a weakness—”
“Move!” Shang shouted.
ShiShi shoved Mulan to the side. Seconds later, a boulder plunged from above, smashing the very spot she’d been.
“I’m afraid this is where it ends, little soldier.” The lion guardian gulped. “It was a valiant effort.”
“No.” Mulan wiped her face. Spray from the river slicked her palms, and an idea struck.
ShiShi peeked out of their hiding spot, looking distressed. “He’s coming.”
“The river,” she murmured.
“What did you say?” asked ShiShi, jumping as the ground hissed. “I cannot hear with all the world collapsing around us.”
“We’ve got to lure him into the river.”
The lion growled. “Are you insane, girl?”
“It makes sense,” Shang murmured. �
��We need to split up. You two head for the pillar. I’ll lure him to the river.”
“What if he throws you in?” Mulan protested. “You can’t fly.”
Shang’s expression softened. “Trust me.”
“Wait—” Mulan got up. “I’m coming with you.”
He nodded at Mulan, as if she were his equal instead of his recruit. “Together, then.”
As soon as he said it, there was a thunderous crash, and their hiding spot crumpled. High above, Huoguai laughed.
ShiShi growled and ran to catch up with Mulan and Shang. “Wait for me!”
Mulan shouted to catch Huoguai’s attention. “I’m here. Your soldiers didn’t kill me.”
“And I’m here!” Shang shouted from the opposite side of the ledge.
The captain leaned over the edge of the Cauldron, dangerously close to the river. As the black waters spilled down the volcano’s side, Huoguai batted his wings, diving to hurl Shang into the river.
“Now!” Mulan shouted. At her command, everyone launched their attack. ShiShi threw a boulder at Huoguai’s wing, and Mulan threw her sword at the other wing.
Huoguai flailed, thrashing against the river’s murky surface. He gathered himself and leapt into the sky, hanging low to recover.
Mulan ran toward Huoguai, pulled her sword from his wing, and slammed the hilt into his belly until he tumbled back toward the river. Huoguai hissed.
With a lurch, he snapped his tail over Mulan’s waist, taking her with him.
“Mulan!” Shang shouted.
Mulan didn’t waste time kicking and clawing at the demon. She had her sword in hand this time. She swung it at the demon’s wings and ankles, but Huoguai didn’t stop. His wings beat against the powerful wind, and at last she saw that they hung over the river; she could see the waterfall’s black waters gushing down and down, past the clouds into Diyu’s abyss. She stopped attacking him with her sword and gulped.
“Mulan!” Shang cried from the edge of the river. “Mulan, jump!”
Shang had found what was left of her vaulting stick. Holding it over his head, he stood precariously close to the river.
“Grab the pole!” ShiShi shrieked.
Reflection Page 20