by Cindy Lin
The wizened old man smiled, showing a set of gold teeth. “To the training hall!” he quavered. He left the courtyard, cadets marching behind him two by two. Uma joined the line and Usagi nearly cried out. The younglings were leaving and would soon be out of sight. She couldn’t let her sister and Tora disappear again. Panicked, she cupped her hands around her mouth and whistled.
Twee hee, hoo hoo.
A birdcall, the one they always used to announce that all was clear. Uma stumbled, falling out of step. She glanced around briefly, then kept marching, her back straight as a spear. Tora brought up the end of the line as she had before, skulking toward the exit with a small boy by her side. Desperate, Usagi tried again. Twee hee, hoo hoo. She followed it with a different call they used—the hooting of an owl. It was midmorning—an owl hoot had to get attention.
Tora turned, a puzzled look on her face.
The small boy noticed and stopped midmarch, the crest of hair on his head bobbling. “Cadet Tora, are you coming?” It was Jago. If Aunt Bobo could see her son now! He’d been crying and snot-covered the last time Usagi saw him, but even he seemed to have grown, appearing serious and composed.
“Er . . . I’m going to inspect the main quad before the Dragonlord arrives,” Tora told him. “Go ahead—I’ll be there in a minute.”
Jago nodded and left. Frowning, Tora glanced about then moved cautiously toward the line of bushes.
Usagi whistled once more as Tora drew near. There was no one left in the courtyard now but the two of them. Swallowing hard, Usagi emerged to stand before her friend. “Hello,” she said softly.
Tora’s eyes widened and she clapped her hand to her mouth. Then she threw herself at Usagi. With a half sob, Usagi hugged Tora with all her might. Her friend laughed, squeezing tightly before stepping back to look at her. “I can’t believe it,” said Tora. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again.”
“Me too,” Usagi confessed. “I’ve been so worried. I . . . I ran. I’ve never been able to forgive myself.”
Tora shook her head. “I told you to run! But I wish I hadn’t. I didn’t know we’d end up here.”
“Neither did I,” said Usagi, examining her friend closely. Though Tora was still lean and muscular, her face and frame had filled out and she no longer looked haunted by hunger. Her tunic had a small dragon embroidered on the left side, and a tiger on the right. She stood ramrod straight, in split-toe shoes of leather and felt. Usagi felt almost shabby in her entertainer’s costume.
She heard a gasp, and turned to see her sister standing across the empty courtyard, dark eyes wide with shock. “Uma!” Usagi cried. She ran over and threw her arms around her. Uma stiffened, making no move to hug her back. Confused, Usagi let go. “It’s me!”
Her sister’s gaze was cold. “What are you doing here?” It was a punch to the gut.
“I—I’m sorry,” Usagi stammered. She reached for Uma’s hand. “You’re angry, I can see that. You have to know I never meant to leave you.”
“But you did.” Pulling away, Uma frowned. “You said you wouldn’t, but you disappeared.”
Usagi flushed with shame. “It wasn’t intentional, truly it wasn’t. It just happened.” She looked at Tora and her sister pleadingly. “I’ve been thinking about you all these months, wanting to find you. It’s why I’m here now.”
“Dressed like that?” Tora cocked an eyebrow. “How did you even get in here?”
“It’s a long story,” Usagi said. “But friends of mine—they brought me.” As her sister and Tora exchanged glances, Usagi hurried on. “I heard your voice, Uma, and I had to come looking for you. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how to save you since the day the Strikers took you away.”
Her sister rolled her eyes. “You don’t need to save us, Usagi. Lord Druk saved us. Isn’t that right, Tora?”
Tora nodded. “We went from starving in the forest to living in a palace.” She looked at Uma. “And now Usagi’s finally here with us.”
After a pause, Uma’s forehead smoothed. “That’s true, I suppose. You’ve seen the error of your ways and have come. I’m sure you’ll be welcomed, especially if we vouch for you.”
“What? But I’m not here to . . . I came to take you away from this place,” Usagi protested. “You’re in danger! The Dragonlord means to kill you at the festival of the spring equinox.”
There was a stunned silence as Tora and Uma stared at her, then at each other, before they burst out snickering. Usagi’s cheeks burned. This wasn’t turning out how she imagined.
“Where did you hear such a thing?” gasped Tora, trying to stifle her giggles. “The Dragonlord kill us? Why?”
“He means to sacrifice the weakest younglings,” insisted Usagi.
“We’re not weak,” Uma snorted. “Besides, Lord Druk would never do that.”
“Would never—the Dragonlord’s the reason for the war! He’s why Mama and Papa are dead. All those with zodiac powers, killed. Do you not remember the giant turtleback grave? Come to your senses!”
“How do we know that it really was a grave? Maybe those are lies spread by the Dragonlord’s enemies,” scoffed Uma.
“You were too young to remember, but I do, and so does Tora,” said Usagi firmly. “So many died. All because of the Blue Dragon.”
Uma squeaked in dismay and Tora waved a frantic hand. “He doesn’t like to be called that,” Tora hushed, glancing around. “You don’t understand, Usagi. It was different during the war, but now he values our talents.”
“He says I’m a star, and that having powers so young is proof,” declared Uma. “My fire gift will bring glory to Midaga.”
“Lord Druk has a vision for Midaga—and he’s good to us,” Tora continued. “Look at where we get to live! We eat three meals a day—three!—and go to school. We’re to become Dragonstrikers even greater than the ones he has now.”
Usagi shook her head, trying to clear it. She thought of all that the Heirs had told her, and all that she’d seen. The Blue Dragon’s men had defaced and removed every sign of the Twelve in the kingdom. “No. He betrayed our country . . . he’s a traitor.”
Furious tears filled her sister’s eyes. “Are you really trying to get us to leave the palace? If you thought we were suffering, you’re wrong. We’re actually quite happy here.” She paused. “Happier than we were with you.”
Usagi felt her heart crack. “But the war,” she said weakly.
“We’re prepared to ask Lord Druk to accept you as a cadet, but only if you give up these wild ideas,” said Tora with a frown. “Uma’s right. We’re fine here. You haven’t seen what we’ve seen, and you’re only repeating the lies you’ve heard.”
“If you don’t want to stay, then leave,” Uma sniffled. “After all, you’ve left us before.”
At that, Usagi faltered. She’d promised her father she’d take care of Uma, swore to Uma she’d never leave her, and failed horribly on both counts. Her sister wiped her eyes and turned away. Maybe it was all a big misunderstanding. She had to stay and see for herself what was true. She clutched Uma’s arm. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her sister softened. She squeezed Usagi’s hand. “All right then.”
Tora smiled with a glint of her snaggleteeth. “Now let’s find a way to get you into the Dragon Academy.”
They led her to a hulking building nearby. Stone dragons flanked the entrance, and emblazoned on the doors was a twisting dragon—the same one stitched on both Uma’s and Tora’s uniforms.
Uma looked at Usagi’s brightly colored outfit and frowned. “You can’t go in looking like that. You’ll stand out like a frog in a squirrel’s nest.”
“Wait here,” said Tora, shoving her behind one of the stone dragons. “Stay out of sight. I’m going to get help.” She cracked open the double doors and slipped inside.
Usagi caught a glimpse of activity and moved closer, peering through the crack. A couple of boys spun and twirled on their heads like a pair of tops, surrounded by a circle
of others cheering them on. Another boy ran about holding a flaming practice sword aloft, chased by two girls throwing orbs of water. Several girls were attacking burlap sacks lined against the wall, landing their kicks with fierce cries, then sinking their hands deep into the heart of the sacks and tearing out fistfuls of straw.
“Get back,” Uma hissed, and pulled her toward the stone dragon.
Tucking herself behind its scaled back, Usagi looked up at her sister. “They haven’t mistreated you?”
Uma gave an impatient sigh. “Lord Druk built this for us!” she said with a grand sweep of her arm. “Imagine, an entire school devoted to younglings with zodiac powers, right in the palace. What do you think?”
Usagi bit her lip. Would the Blue Dragon go to such lengths with these younglings if he meant to execute any of them? What if Tupa was wrong? What if the rescue mission they’d planned all these months was for nothing?
The double doors opened and Tora emerged, followed by a great giant of a boy, as tall and wide as two grown men. He carried a rolled-up rug over his arm as if it were a towel. He unfurled the heavy woolen rug and snapped it a few times, unleashing clouds of dust. “Anyone need a ride?” he drawled.
Uma hustled Usagi from her hiding place. “Cadet Goru, my sister, Usagi.”
“Born in the year of the Wood Rabbit,” Usagi said, bowing. She noticed the ox embroidered on his tunic.
“No time for that.” Tora pushed Usagi toward the rug. “Lie down—we’re going to sneak you in.”
Usagi obeyed, lying across one end of the dark brown carpet. Goru smiled down at her. “Hold tight,” he said, and began rolling until she was snugly inside a scratchy wool tube. She felt herself hoisted up, and heard the doors opening. With the rug draped over his shoulders, Goru entered the building.
Peering down the narrow tunnel of the rug, Usagi caught sight of an expansive wooden floor, straw practice mats, and a wall of weapons. The room echoed with activity and shouts. No one seemed to pay attention as Goru carried the rug into a dim room. He set Usagi down on the ground.
“Stay here—Rana and your sister will be coming in,” he muttered, and shut the door.
Usagi waited, an anxious flutter in her chest, cramped and hot in the heavy, musty rug. The flutter soon turned into panic and she squirmed, trying desperately to escape her cocoon. She managed to push her head out and gasped for air, lying on the floor of a crowded storage room lit only by the light filtering through a high, narrow window. The walls were stacked with sparring pads that smelled of souring sweat, racks of practice swords, and various boxes and bins. Wiggling her arms free, she dragged herself out of the rug. Whew.
Creeping to the door, Usagi cracked it open. She peeked through and saw a room that reminded her of the Great Hall at the Shrine of the Twelve. But the hall at the shrine didn’t have a portrait of a grim-looking man taking up nearly an entire wall.
It was the most elaborate likeness of the Dragonlord Usagi had ever seen. He was dressed in black armor trimmed in gold, looking like he was covered in dragon scales, with a longbow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back. His hooded eyes stared out beneath a black helmet featuring the golden head of a snarling dragon. The Dragonlord was mounted on a black warhorse, its long face covered with a dragon-shaped gold helmet.
Beneath the portrait, the giant boy, Goru, stacked stone blocks as if they were wooden toys. Little Jago climbed on a stack and launched himself in the air, where he hovered with a grin. He circled gleefully around Uma and a girl wearing dark braids coiled about her head. They appeared to be arguing with Tora. Listening carefully, Usagi homed in on her sister’s and Tora’s voices.
“Time is wasting, and no one is cleaning,” fretted Tora. “You want Lord Druk to see this mess? Where’d Master Douzen go?”
Goru turned. “He went to fetch Lord Druk and the captain. Said he’d be back in the next hour. We’ve got time.”
“The whole hall must be in order before they come back!” Tora anxiously rubbed at the scars on her arm.
“Afraid of another haircut from him?” asked the girl with coiled braids.
Uma crossed her arms. “Your punishment could’ve been worse.”
“I deserved what I got.” Smoothing her short hair, Tora bit her lip. “But we’ve got to get everyone cleaning—now.”
“Leave it to me,” said Uma, and she clapped her hands loudly. The other cadets stopped what they were doing and stood at attention. “Fellow Chosen,” Uma called. “Lord Druk and the captain will be here soon. Everything must shine for inspection. Including our hearts and minds!”
“Yes, Cadet Uma!”
Looking smug, Uma clapped her hands again, and the cadets sprang into action, dropping practice equipment into baskets, sweeping up the straw that had come out of the sack targets, and putting the room back to order. With cleaning rags, they lined up against one end of the room, then bent and crossed the floor in unison, polishing the wooden planks in an industrious row. They turned at the other end of the room, repositioned their rags, and swarmed back across like a line of ants. Usagi stepped away from the door as some of the cadets scooted by.
Her sister and the girl with coiled braids entered the storage closet. At the sight of Usagi, the girl with braids stopped short, her eyes widening. She shut the door quickly behind them. “I thought you might be joking,” she murmured to Uma.
“I don’t joke,” snorted Uma, and she introduced the girl to Usagi. “Rana, meet my sister.”
Rana folded her hands in greeting. “Born an Earth Snake. Welcome to our little corner of heaven.”
Her wry smile made Usagi want to smile back. “I’m Usagi. Year of the Wood Rabbit.”
“We’d better get you something else to wear,” said Rana, her sharp eyes looking over Usagi’s outfit. She began rummaging through boxes of uniforms. Uma went to help her, and Usagi drifted back to the door and peeked out, impatient to see more of the Dragon Academy.
She noticed several maps and paintings on a nearby wall. Bright red ink circled Mount Jade on a map of Midaga. Beside the map hung a painting of twelve ordinary objects arranged in a circle: a bowl, a pen, a fan, and a mirror, among others. Usagi recognized them immediately as the Treasures, the comb looking exactly like the one she was carrying.
Turning, she nudged Uma. “What’s the meaning of all those maps out there?”
Uma held up a wrinkled tunic and sniffed it. She made a face. “They’re part of our training. We must memorize everything about Midaga, especially its geography and riches.”
“What about the scroll with the items on it?”
Her sister stuffed the tunic back in a box. “Those are the Twelve Treasures—they’re ancient objects of great power that belong to Midaga. They’re all lost now, but Lord Druk says we’re going to find them.” She brushed off her hands. “Now that you mention it, I wanted to ask—do you still have that comb Papa gave you?”
“Why?” Usagi tried to sound casual, but suddenly felt as if the comb was sticking out of her belt. Sneaking a glance, she saw nothing.
Uma shrugged. “I remember it looking so much like the one in the painting. I thought it might be worth taking a look.”
“I—uh, lost it, actually,” Usagi said, squirming. She’d never lied to her sister before, but the maps on the wall and the painting of the Treasures left her on edge. The Heirs and the Tigress were right—the Blue Dragon was after the Treasures. “But Papa probably just carved a replica. He must have heard about it or something. I mean, the only power that comb had was to take the tangles out of your hair.”
Looking disappointed, Uma shook her head. “That’s a shame. You carried it like it was something special. Papa would be so sad that you lost his comb.”
“I feel terrible,” Usagi agreed.
“Here you go.” Rana handed her a uniform. Her dark eyes were apologetic. “I couldn’t find one with a rabbit on it.”
Uma smiled. “I’m sure Lord Druk will see that you get one after he meets you.” They left
the tiny room so that Usagi could change.
With shaking hands, she took off her small rucksack and stripped out of her entertainer’s costume. The Academy tunic was thankfully clean, and had dragons embroidered on both shoulders. Usagi slipped it on, feeling like she was in the wrong skin. She emptied everything that was in her old belt and secured them into the wide cloth belt of the uniform, tucking the Coppice Comb away with special care. Wearing the Dragon Academy uniform was just another form of stealth, she told herself, and stuffed her own clothes in her pack.
Click clack. Click clack. The dreaded clatter of the Dragonstrikers’ armor filled Usagi’s ears and she froze. She wished she had her broomstick still. But in the excitement of seeing Tora and Uma, she’d left it in the courtyard. Examining the sparring equipment in the dim, stuffy space, she wondered if anyone would notice if she took a practice sword. As the clacking grew louder, Usagi fought the urge to run. She sidled to the door of the closet and peeked out. The Academy doors burst open and a phalanx of black-armored Strikers marched in. A murmur of excitement swept through the hall. “Lord Druk is here!”
Chapter 22
The Blue Dragon
USAGI PEERED THROUGH THE CRACKED door of the storage closet, watching the Strikers file into the Academy. Younglings scurried into rows beneath the giant portrait of the Blue Dragon, chests puffed in their indigo uniforms, their expressions matching the stern face on the wall. Her sister and Rana ran to join Tora and the other cadets in welcoming the Dragonlord.
His elite strike force formed two lines and stood at silent attention. Their horned helmets sat low on their heads, obscuring their eyes. Another Striker, presumably the captain, clacked through the doors with Master Douzen, escorting a man dressed all in black into the Academy. Though his face couldn’t be seen from where Usagi stood, the man in black’s broad shoulders radiated strength and power. She leaned against a bin of practice spears and craned her neck. Was that the Blue Dragon? There was no armor, no weapons, no kingly robes or regalia. His dark hair was gathered in a simple topknot, his clothes utterly plain. Yet there was something arresting about the way he walked—as if everything and everyone would wait for him. He halted for a moment before Uma, who bowed deeply. With a nod, he strolled up and down the rows with the Dragonstriker captain, each student bowing as they passed.