The Twelve

by Cindy Lin

  Usagi listened again. “It’s like thunder, only it doesn’t ever stop.”

  Nezu’s puzzled expression cleared. “You’re probably hearing the Sage’s Beard.”

  “The what?” Usagi asked.

  “It’s a waterfall with a bridge we’ll be crossing.”

  “I’ve never seen a waterfall.” She scratched her nose. “Why’s it called the Sage’s Beard?”

  He flashed a grin. “You’ll see.”

  By the hour of the Ram, with the sun tipping past its apex toward the west, Usagi and the Heirs came upon the waterfall. It soared hundreds of feet high, with clouds of billowing pale mist spilling down a jade-green cliff. Usagi laughed, for the falls truly resembled the long white beard of an old man. Pounding rapids churned and boiled at the base, kicking up a fine icy spray that swept over them and stung their faces. Saru pointed to the cliff.

  “We’ll need to go up that rock face,” she shouted over the crashing falls.

  Usagi scanned the slick wall of green rock that framed the tumbling, swirling water. “Nezu said there was a bridge.”

  “Yes, but you have to climb to get to it,” Inu told her. “There used to be stairs carved into the rock, but they crumbled when the Blue Dragon tried to ascend them.”

  “They didn’t just crumble. The Tigress brought them down,” Nezu yelled. “But a few years ago Saru rigged some ropes and Inu put some metal spikes up that wall, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

  “Is this one of the challenges?” Usagi asked, woozy at the thought of traversing the sheer rock.

  Saru smiled and shook her head. “Climbing to the bridge is trickier than it used to be, but no.”

  Spirits. Usagi squinted. Wisps of brown webbing stretched across the jade-green wall. “Okay, I see the ropes.”

  “Just follow me,” Nezu offered. “Watch where I put my feet.”

  In single file, they approached a set of knotted ropes attached to the rock at intervals. Steel spikes had been hammered into the stone, accompanying the rope lines. Saru jumped up and began to climb without the help of rope or spikes, racing up the face of the cliff like a monkey scaling a tree. Nezu grabbed a knot and stepped onto the first protruding spike, then onto the next like a ladder. Nervously, Usagi jammed her stick behind her pack.

  “Use your legs as you climb—don’t try to pull yourself up with your arms, or you’ll tire out quick,” Inu advised.

  Usagi took a deep breath and grasped the rope. She put her foot on the first spike, like Nezu did, and stepped up. With her other foot, she felt around till she found a spike near her right knee, and stepped up again. Holding tight to the rope, she inched up the rock wall.

  The weight of her pack shifted with each move, the straps cutting into her shoulders. Occasionally a chip of rock would rattle down the cliff face, kicked free by Saru’s feet. As Nezu climbed ahead, his movements bounced through the network of ropes, keeping her off balance. Though the mountain air was cool and her hair was sodden from the mist of the falls, beads of sweat trickled down her back. It felt like they’d never get to the bridge. She reached for a knot high above her, grunting with the effort.

  “How are you doing?” Inu called for the tenth time. He was just below her, and sounded as if he were ready to push her up the wall.

  “Never better!” Usagi insisted. She glanced down and froze. At this height the Sea of Trees looked like a woolly green blanket wrapped around the foot of the mountain. White wisps of cloud drifted by. In the east, Usagi could see smoking piles and great gashes in the earth that had to be the Eastern Mines. The blue of the sea striped the horizon. They were so high up. Spitting spirits, what if she fell? The forest floor began to spin and she let out a panicked cry.

  “Don’t look down,” Inu shouted. “Look at the rock right in front of you, or at Nezu. Keep your eyes up.”

  Heart pounding, Usagi pressed her face against the rock wall and shut her eyes, but felt even dizzier. With a whimper, she stared at the mottled green jade against her cheek, then forced her gaze upward till she found Nezu. He seemed so far. Keeping her eyes on him, she toed around until she found another spike, and stepped up. Panting with fear and exertion, Usagi crawled along until she reached a small ledge where Nezu and Saru crouched. They offered a helping hand, and Inu scrambled up beside her. “Good job.”

  “I didn’t think I’d make it.” Usagi wiped her brow. It felt so good to be standing on something solid, even if it was only a narrow stone shelf.

  “You should’ve seen me the first time I climbed this wall,” Nezu told her. “Saru practically dragged me up.”

  “You got through the hardest part, Usagi. The bridge is at the end of this ledge.” Saru nodded behind them, and then her eyes widened. “The Tigress!”

  Usagi whirled. A long bridge of woven vines and bamboo planks led to a ledge on the other side of the falls. She peered through the mist. On the far ledge, more than a hundred paces away, stood a hooded figure leaning on a tall wooden staff.

  Horangi, the last Warrior of the Zodiac—in her bodily form.

  Tiny and stooped, she was nearly a head shorter than Usagi. Her long belted robe was the rusty hue of humble persimmon dye, the hood covering her face from view. Saru took a few steps toward the bridge, but stopped as the figure raised a gnarled hand and began crossing. The small form clutched at the ropy vines, thumping her staff slowly on the bamboo planks.

  Usagi fiddled with the carved wooden rabbit around her neck, trying not to stare. This was the 42nd Tiger Warrior? It seemed an eternity before the hunched figure stepped off the bridge and stood before them.

  “My Heirs.” Creaky with age, the voice sounded just as Usagi had remembered from the Summoning. The figure pushed the hood back to reveal the wrinkled face of an old woman, her snowy hair streaked with a thick stripe of black, pulled back into a long braid. Her deep-set eyes were startlingly green, as vibrant as the jade cliffs surrounding them. Even more arresting were the pale, puckered scars on her face, three long slashes adorning each leathery cheek.

  “You are late.” The Tigress’s words were blunt, her gaze stern. “You should have returned weeks ago.”

  The Heirs bowed. “Forgive us, Teacher,” they chorused. Abashed, Usagi bowed as well.

  “But you reported success on your mission. I look forward to seeing the return of more Treasures to the shrine.” The old woman patted Inu’s shoulder and reached up with gnarled fingers to smooth Saru’s hair. She then pulled at Nezu’s arm until he bent forward, and took him by the chin to examine his face. “Spirits be! You keep growing, ratling. Are those whiskers I see?” Nezu grinned and straightened as she released his chin with a cackle. It quickly became a dry cough that shook her bent form. As the others tried to pat her back and offer her water, she waved them off.

  “We have more important matters to worry about,” croaked the Tigress. Her green eyes flicked over to Usagi.

  Awkwardly, Usagi bowed once more. What did one say upon meeting a Warrior of the Twelve? “G-greetings, Honored Tigress,” she stammered.

  The green eyes narrowed. “A youngling, unschooled and untested, upon this sacred mount? I never thought I’d see such a thing.”

  Cheeks burning, Usagi dropped her head and studied her toes. It wasn’t her fault she’d never had a chance to go to school.

  “Unschooled she may be, but Usagi has had her zodiac powers tested,” said Saru. “Her standing here is proof.” The others chimed in, talking over each other in their haste to appraise the Tigress of Usagi’s skills, how well she did in the Sea of Trees and on the boulder run. But Horangi held up a wrinkled hand again, and they fell silent.

  “Go ahead, the three of you,” said the old woman. “I will assess the youngling myself.” The others hesitated, but when the Tigress fixed them with a calm stare, they bowed their heads. Nodding encouragingly at Usagi, they crossed the bridge.

  The Tigress waited until they’d reached the other side, then turned back to Usagi. “I felt your entry into the Sea of Tree
s, but I will admit I did not expect to see you get this far. The Heirs have had the benefit of years of training.” She inspected Usagi with a frown. “You have never been properly taught. You could hardly be considered a candidate for anything. What do you hope to gain by coming all this way?”

  “I’m not asking to be a candidate,” said Usagi. The Tigress raised her eyebrows, but remained silent. Usagi hurried on. “Strikers took my sister and friends away because they have talents, just like me. But I won’t let the Blue Dragon keep them. I want to learn whatever I can to save them.” She looked at the old woman’s impassive face and added, “I’m not afraid of hard work.”

  The Tigress stared at the bridge and cocked her head. “Very well.” Her lips pursed. “Wait here. Do not cross until I give you a sign. Understand?”

  Usagi nodded, wondering what the sign would be. The old woman shuffled back to the Heirs on the other side of the chasm. When the Tigress reached them, Usagi thanked the gods for her sharp ears, for she could still hear the old warrior as she spoke.

  “Give me your sword, Nezu,” Horangi ordered.

  Even at this distance, Usagi could see confusion on Nezu’s face. He pulled it out of his walking stick and handed it over. The Tigress gave him her staff and took his sword, then hobbled across the bridge toward Usagi, the ropy vines and planks creaking with each step. The blade was nearly as tall as the old woman herself. Usagi frowned. It looked too heavy for one so frail. What was she planning to do with it?

  The old warrior stopped midway on the swaying bridge. Her green eyes seemed to glow. She raised the sword above her head. With a mighty swing, she cut the ropes on the very bridge she stood on.

  The sound of the snapping vines was like the crack of a whip. Horrified, the Heirs cried out. “Teacher!”

  Time seemed to slow. Only one ropy vine kept the bridge suspended across the gap. The deck collapsed, swinging from the remaining rope like a set of wind chimes. The Tigress dropped the sword, which tumbled into the chasm below, and grabbed the rope. Finding the edge of the planks with her feet, Horangi clung there for a brief moment while the deck of the bridge dangled uselessly from a single vine.

  But the weight of it all was too much for that last rope, and a series of ominous creaks and pops sounded until it snapped. The bridge tore in two with a loud crack. The severed pieces of the bridge swung apart, and the old warrior began to fall.

  Without a second thought, Usagi sprang after her, reaching for the tiny figure. She couldn’t let the last Warrior die. Leaping through the mist, she realized too late there was nowhere to really land. She flew into the Tigress and the falling end of the bridge, grabbing hold of both as it swung toward the cliff. “I’ve got you!” she shouted.

  The bridge slammed against the rock with a shuddering bang. Usagi squealed and held tight to the worn bamboo planks and the Tigress. Heart pounding, she glanced down into the yawning gap, the rushing falls and slick green stone a swirl of color and motion. Usagi scrabbled with her feet, trying to find a toehold between the planks, but kept kicking slats off into the frothing water below. “Help!” she cried.

  Horangi seized Usagi’s arm with a gnarled hand. “A good effort, youngling. Hold on!” Her grip was shockingly strong.

  From above, Saru’s face appeared. “I’m coming!” She scrambled down the rock face alongside the dangling bridge and grasped the Tigress about the waist. The old warrior waved her off. “Take the youngling up first.”

  Saru called for the other Heirs to throw down a rope. She quickly tied it around Usagi and gave it a sharp tug. Nezu and Inu began to pull, while Saru had the Tigress loop her arms around her neck. She climbed up with Horangi on her back, just as the two boys hauled Usagi over the stone ledge to solid ground.

  Staggering to her feet, Usagi approached the Tigress. “Are you all right? I didn’t mean to tackle you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

  The Tigress didn’t answer. She appraised Usagi in silence, looking her over with a gleam in her eye.

  Inu regarded Usagi with new respect. “Forget the Bashing Boulders. I didn’t expect you would do that.” He blew the hair off his forehead with a whoosh and scowled at the Tigress. “Or that you would do . . . that.”

  With shaking hands, Nezu gave the old warrior her staff. “Here, Teacher.”

  “Thank you, ratling,” Horangi croaked. “I am afraid I lost your sword. We will get you a new one.”

  “Teacher, what in the name of the Twelve were you thinking?” Saru demanded. Her face was paler than the mists of the Sage’s Beard.

  Horangi’s lips quirked. “Come along,” she said simply, and shuffled away.

  They picked their way along the narrow stone ledge, emerging onto a wide trail. Overhead, the bright sun seemed to shine in celebration, rapidly drying their mist-dampened hair and clothes. Usagi smiled to herself. She’d helped save the Tigress with her rabbit leap! She felt like dancing. Then she looked up and choked back a scream.

  Prowling toward them was an immense cat the size of a sun bear. Its tawny fur and cloud-shaped black markings made it nearly invisible against the rocks and shadows. Usagi could see its tail twitching as it fixed its amber eyes on the Tigress, padding silently on paws as big as a man’s hand. A rumbling noise from deep in its throat sounded a warning.

  “Spirit’s spleen, a cloud leopard!” Usagi brandished her stick. Cloud leopards were elusive, rare, and reportedly vicious. She had only ever seen a skinned pelt once when she was little, sported by a one-armed trader who’d boasted of revenge on the big cat that had taken his other arm.

  Saru put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s Kumo—the Tigress found him as an orphaned cub. He’s been by her side for several years now.”

  It wasn’t growling, Usagi realized with a start. “It’s purring!” she whispered.

  They watched as Horangi raised her gnarled hand. The cloud leopard bumped its enormous head against her palm. After a few scratches behind the big cat’s ears, the old woman grasped the ruff of fur at the cloud leopard’s neck and got onto the animal’s back.

  “To the shrine, Kumo,” said the Tiger Warrior, and the great cat slinked off. Within moments Horangi and her cloud leopard were out of sight.

  “With Horangi on that big cat, she’ll be back at the shrine in no time,” said Saru. “We should follow her at spirit speed.”

  Usagi hesitated. “I still haven’t used spirit speed.”

  The Monkey Heir jumped into a nearby tree. “It’s the perfect time to give it a try.” She glanced down and a smile lit up her pale face. “You’re on the Mount now.” She took a flying leap to another tree, and then another, rustling through the treetops. “Meet you at the gate!”

  “You can do it,” Inu encouraged. “I’ll stay with you.”

  “Me too,” Nezu chimed in. “I’ll keep in back. Just think of each rabbit leap as a step out of many, like running, but with much longer strides. You’ll be at spirit speed before you know it!”

  Usagi frowned, trying to picture it. Inu loped up the trail. “Try to keep up with me, and you’ll see,” he called over his shoulder.

  “I can’t promise that,” she mumbled, but fell into step behind him, her backbundle jouncing awkwardly. Inu sped up, his legs scissoring faster and faster.

  “Don’t run, Usagi!” Nezu shouted. “Jump!”

  The Dog Heir’s back was rapidly getting smaller and smaller as the distance between them grew. There was no way Usagi could keep up if she didn’t leap. She launched herself toward him and felt a warm rush of weightlessness as she soared through the cool mountain air. Upon touching down, she took several stutter steps instead of coming to a full stop, then sprang again after Inu.

  He threw a look over his shoulder and grinned. “Good!” He increased his pace, and Usagi took another running leap. Behind her, Nezu whooped.

  So this was what it felt like to go at spirit speed—all the freedom she felt while running, only each step took her twenty paces forward. It was like wearing the most i
ncredible wings on her feet. Before long she was laughing as she vaulted through the air, covering more ground in a single bound than if she’d trekked the regular way. The old way.

  Awash in sunlight and fragrant with evergreen, the trail passed by in mere blinks of the eye. They made their way up the mountain, following the snaking path that hugged its steep slopes. Usagi was exhilarated, the unwieldy bulk of her backbundle forgotten. She jumped so hard she nearly landed on top of Inu, clipping his flying feet.

  “Easy now,” he yelped. Nezu snorted with laughter behind them. Usagi wished her sister could see her, wished that she could show Tora spirit speed. She and Tora would never be able to beat Uma’s horse speed, but with spirit speed they might be able to at least keep track of her. The three of them could run through the forests of Goldentusk, faster than any Guard, wild and free.

  By the time they arrived in a clearing, the sun was setting, a guttering flame on the horizon that turned the sky rose gold. Before a massive shrine gate stood a smiling Saru with the Tigress, the cloud leopard by their side.

  The gate was a squared portal, formed from two immense columns hewn from the trunks of ancient trees, joined by giant crossbeams lashed with rope as thick as a man’s arm. Beyond it, a long, winding flight of stairs cut into the gray-green rock of the mountain.

  The old warrior fixed her gaze on Usagi. “If you truly have the temperament to learn, you will reach the top. Only then may teaching begin.” Without waiting for a reply, she clambered back onto Kumo. The cloud leopard passed through the giant wooden gate and padded up the stone stairs with Horangi clinging to its sleek back, carrying the elderly Tiger Warrior as if she weighed nothing.

  Usagi stared after her, puzzled. Whatever did she mean?

  “Almost there,” said Saru, giving Usagi’s arm a squeeze. The Heirs followed the Tigress, each of them reverently touching the giant gate as they passed. Nezu even hugged one of the enormous posts, though it would have taken three of him to encircle it completely.