by Cindy Lin
In the distance, Usagi heard feet crunching on gravel. “Someone’s coming this way.” She listened carefully. “Not a Guard—maybe a palace worker. We can’t let them see what’s happened here. I’ll hold them off while you go hide.”
She watched the Heirs disappear into the wooded park behind the complex. Tightening her grip on her broomstick, Usagi marched away from the destroyed cellar. A temple monk, slight of build with a shaved head, approached. He frowned at the sight of her. “Young one, whatever are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the Academy?”
Thinking fast, Usagi raised her chin. “The captain asked me to check on the entertainers for the festivities. I’m going back now to give him a report.”
The monk shook his head. “No one should be back here. Come with me.” He grasped Usagi firmly by the arm and hustled her toward the front of the temple complex. His grip was surprisingly strong for such a skinny-looking man. Usagi stumbled trying to keep up with his quick strides. They rounded the corner into the temple courtyard, and she stopped short.
“Hello, Rabbit Girl.” Tupa stood there waiting in his Striker captain’s armor.
Yanking herself from the monk’s grasp, Usagi whirled to flee, but Tupa was on her in a flash. With a meaty hand, he swiftly pressed his fingers in the freeze-hold pattern against her neck. Usagi’s entire body went rigid. Her stick dropped and clattered away out of reach. Around the courtyard, the monks and palace workers preparing for the spring festivities stopped to stare. Frozen and unable to move, Usagi glared at Tupa.
“If only you’d stayed at the Academy,” he said softly. “Your sister was so excited about it. To tell the truth, I was hoping that you and the others might see the benefits in joining us. We’re building a new Midaga. But now . . . I wonder if maybe you’re all beyond persuading.” He snapped his fingers and two monks brought over a bamboo cage, like what she’d seen Strikers use for captured younglings. Tupa stuffed her into the cage and slammed it shut. As he snapped an iron padlock around the bars, Usagi felt a tidal wave of fury sweep in, along with the ability to move and speak again. Glowering, she shook the cage door as hard as she could, making the metal lock jump and rattle.
“You traitor,” she rasped. “You lied to us this whole time. How could you? You’re no better than the Blue Dragon himse—”
“Quiet!” Tupa slammed a fist against the bars. “Think carefully before you speak. You have some fine talents, Usagi. It’d be a shame to waste them on a losing proposition.” He bent down and gave her his familiar broad smile. It was so fake, Usagi couldn’t believe she’d ever thought it real. “I know you have the Coppice Comb. Hand it over and I’ll set you free right now. I’ll even go easy on the Warrior Heirs.”
“I’m not giving it to you,” Usagi spat. “You don’t deserve to even touch the Comb.”
He straightened, his smile gone. “Fine. You’ll give it to me later—don’t think that you won’t.”
“I won’t,” Usagi vowed. “And the Heirs are gone—I freed them!”
“You think I don’t know that?” Tupa’s smile returned. He gestured to the monks. “Put her in lockdown while we find the others. By the gods, we’ll have them when festivities begin tonight.” Turning back to Usagi, he leaned in close. “Your dear sister really wanted you to join us. Remember that, and remember the Heirs. You all still have a chance.”
Tupa strode off, clicking and clacking in his roach armor. Several monks hoisted the cage. They took Usagi through a temple outbuilding to a dusty bare room. Opening a trapdoor in the floor, they lowered the cage and shut the door, blanketing Usagi in darkness. A padlock clicked as they locked it, leaving her in a cold, damp space. How was she going to get out of this? What would happen to the Heirs? Usagi bit back a despairing moan. She wouldn’t give her captors the satisfaction. After their footsteps faded away, she became aware of another sound behind her—someone breathing. She was not alone. Could it be?
“Teacher?” Usagi whispered.
A pair of green eyes glowed in the dark. “Young Rabbit!”
“Oh, Teacher! Are you all right?” How overjoyed she was to see the glow of the old warrior’s gaze.
“Thank the gods,” croaked Horangi. “I am unharmed, youngling. Did they hurt you? By the time I realized you had disappeared, the Heirs and I were already separated.”
“No, I’m fine,” said Usagi. She hesitated, wondering if Horangi knew about Tupa. Then it all came out in a rush, about how she’d heard her sister’s voice and followed it to the Academy, about what she’d seen, the visit from the Blue Dragon and the shock of Tupa by his side in Striker armor, holding aloft the Bowl of Plenty. “What are we going to do?”
The Tigress sighed. “I have let you all down terribly.” Her strained voice trembled. “I was supposed to protect our last bastion of hope. I let our small successes in recovering some of the Treasures blind me.” There was a long silence, and her green eyes blinked shut. “I have failed.”
“Don’t say that,” Usagi pleaded. She squinted, but it was pitch-black. She closed her eyes and listened to the Tigress—her uneven breathing, the rustle of her clothing, the faint creak of the cage bars as she sagged against them. Usagi stuck out her arm. Her hand brushed against smooth bamboo bars, then found the bony form of the Tigress. Gently, she patted her shoulder. “Teacher, don’t give up. I freed the others before Tupa tracked me down.”
The glow of Horangi’s eyes returned. “You did?”
Usagi couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride. “There were some nice-sized oaks growing above their holding cell. I tried my wood gift on one, and it worked pretty well, if I do say so myself.”
She told the Tigress that the Heirs managed to slip away when she revealed herself and was brought to Tupa. “He had the Mirror of Elsewhere—because I helped him take it from Mount Jade.” Usagi’s cheeks grew hot with shame as she confessed what she and Tupa had done with the Treasures. “I’m the one who’s let you down.”
The old warrior grunted. “What is fated to be yours will always return to you. The Treasures belong to the Twelve. It just may take longer than we thought to see their return.”
“I’ve still got the Coppice Comb on me, and when I was looking for the others, I found this.” Feeling in the dark for the jade bead, Usagi reached out and pressed the cool gem into Horangi’s warm palm.
“The replacement Jewel,” exclaimed the old warrior. “But . . . I threw this away.”
“You did?” Usagi was confounded. “Why?”
“When the head priest led me toward the temple, I sensed danger in carrying it and let it slip from my fingers. It is clear now that Druk sent the Ram Heir to Mount Jade to obtain a new Jewel for the Treasure he destroyed.” Horangi’s croaking voice became a whisper. “Bad enough that he is capturing those with zodiac powers to exploit for his own gain. If Druk manages to obtain all the Treasures, his power will be unparalleled.”
“He won’t,” Usagi declared. “As long as there’s hope, the fight goes on. And I still have hope.”
The Tigress laid a gnarled hand over Usagi’s and squeezed it tight. “Young Rabbit. I cannot ask you to succeed where I myself have failed. But you are right. One can fight as long as there is still hope.” She was quiet for a moment, then continued. “All I ask now is that you trust me. Do you trust me?”
Usagi squeezed the old warrior’s hand back. “Of course.”
“If I were to give a command, would you still follow?” Horangi asked, sounding strangely timid.
“What a thing to say,” said Usagi, disconcerted. The Tigress she knew was fierce and steady—not lost and unsure.
“Answer my question,” growled the old warrior.
That sounded more like Teacher. Usagi smiled to herself but replied meekly, “Yes, I would follow your command.”
“Good,” said the Tigress, relaxing her grip. “Whatever happens, know that you are a true Heir of the Twelve, and will make a fine Rabbit Warrior someday. You have proven yourself beyond any Warrior Trials
. Inu, Saru, and Nezu were right to bring you to Mount Jade. I knew from the moment you leaped to save me at the bridge.”
Usagi’s heart swelled. “Thank you, Teacher.”
They leaned against the bars of their cages, huddling together as best they could in the cold damp, periodically clasping hands or patting an arm, whispering encouragement to one another. Usagi shared what little food remained in her pack. She even took out the Coppice Comb and debated with the Tigress about using it, to call forth a grove of trees that might break open their prison, but the Tigress insisted that she hold off. So Usagi ran it through her undone hair instead, rebraiding it into two neat plaits again, before tucking the comb away.
Mostly they waited. Usagi rubbed the wooden rabbit at her neck, thinking of what Horangi had told her. She was worthy of being called an Heir. No less than the last Warrior of the Zodiac said so. She vowed to herself that if she ever became Rabbit Warrior, she would fight to keep the Blue Dragon from gaining more power, in service to Midaga and the memory of her parents.
After what seemed like hours, Usagi finally grew exhausted enough to drowse in the dark. A loud boom startled her awake, followed by an insistent thumping. It was a deep, pulsing beat that vibrated through the temple complex.
The Tigress stirred. “Drums,” she said. “The hour of the Rat is upon us. Spring is come.”
More booms replied in the distance. It was a response to the palace temple from temples around the city, filling the air with their calls to the gods of spring. Before the war, all Midagians would head to their local temple from sunset to dawn to give offerings of food and money to the gods for a fruitful new season. They’d burn incense and set off firecrackers to ward off angry spirits, and head home to play games and eat flower cakes for a sweet spring. Usagi knew the Blue Dragon would not be doing any of that. She recalled what she’d overheard at the Pearl Garden—the Guards there had spoken of an execution. So had Tupa, before his betrayal. Would it be of the Tigress? And since Usagi was locked up with her, was she about to die too? Her heart thudded in tandem with the drums.
The marching of dozens of feet filled the temple complex, in time to the drumbeats. The clacking of Striker armor sounded nearby, and Usagi tensed. “I think Tupa might be back.”
The reedy voice of the old bearded Academy master called out. “Good and Bountiful Spring, Chosen Ones,” he quavered in his Hulagan accent.
“Good and Bountiful Spring, Master Douzen,” chorused a host of younglings.
Just then, the trapdoor above them swung open with a bang, and Usagi blinked in the sudden harsh light from a lantern. “Bring them up,” ordered Tupa.
Armored Strikers thumped down and heaved the cages out as if they held livestock. The roaches dropped them before Tupa, who crouched and gave Usagi a broad smile.
“So, have you had a chance to think things over?” He sounded as if she’d had a choice between flower cakes and iced fruit pudding.
Usagi stared in disbelief. “Yes, and if you had any honor you would know my answer without asking.”
His smile quickly disappeared. Horangi raised her head, her scarred cheeks drawn and sunken. Her green eyes were glazed with sorrow. “What happened to you, Ram Heir?”
The old warrior’s tears shocked Usagi. She glared at Tupa, wanting to reach through the bars for his stupid chin beard and pull until he begged the Tigress for forgiveness. But he was unrepentant.
“I was to become the next Ram Warrior,” Tupa said forcefully. “I studied and trained for years. But for what? Hiding and spying? It made as much of a difference as flies on a pig.” He raised his voice till he was nearly shouting. “History is made by those who seize greatness!”
“Greatness? You’re the pig,” accused Usagi. “No true Warrior of the Twelve would do what you did. You aren’t worthy of being Ram Warrior!”
Tupa’s face darkened. “Shackle this one and take her outside,” he commanded, handing a Striker a set of keys. “As for the old woman, bring her out when Lord Druk calls for her. Tonight we have our sacrifice.”
The Striker smiled thinly. His face was mostly covered by his helmet, but Usagi could see some nose hairs sticking out of his nostrils. She stared at them with distaste.
“With pleasure.” He unlocked Usagi’s cage and dragged her out. She did her best to give him a good kick before another roach grabbed her and held her still. They fastened wood and metal restraints on her wrists and ankles and forced her to march. Usagi could barely walk, let alone leap. With mincing steps, she hobbled into the courtyard.
Monks were chanting prayers inside the temple, along with a few kneeling beside the enormous barrel-shaped drums just outside its doors. Younglings in Academy uniforms were lined up in the temple courtyard, where lanterns and torches illuminated their solemn expressions and the blades they carried. Usagi searched for her sister and Tora and located them in the first row. Next to her sister was little Jago, who fidgeted with the short steel sword sheathed at his side. Alongside the giant Goru and Rana, the sharp-eyed girl with coiled braids, they faced the raised platform overlooking the courtyard.
On the platform stood Master Douzen and Tupa, an altar covered in rich brocade between them. There sat the Bowl of Plenty and the Apothecary on silk cushions, while the Mirror of Elsewhere was propped on a lacquer stand, its decorated back on display. There were empty cushions on the altar, waiting for missing Treasures. Usagi brought her bound hands close, trying to shield the comb in her belt.
“Future Dragonstrikers!” Tupa boomed. “We celebrate spring’s arrival with the return of several Treasures. And, we have a potential new addition to our ranks who’s brought us yet another.” He gestured and the Strikers brought Usagi before the platform. She heard gasps and turned. Tora and her sister stood just a few feet away, staring at her with wide eyes. Jago looked bewildered. “What’s Usagi doing here?” he whispered to Uma. Usagi slumped as Nose Hairs unlocked just her wrists, pushing her before Tupa.
He stared down at her. “I’ll give you one more chance, Usagi. After all, you volunteered to bring the Coppice Comb all this way. Hand it over and I’ll let you go. You can join your sister, right over there.”
But Uma was glaring, her eyes fiery. She shook her head in disgust. “You lied to me,” she snarled. “I asked you about the comb and you said you didn’t have it.”
“No, I—” Usagi tried to explain, but her sister turned away. Her heart sank. The silence in the courtyard grew as the crowd waited for her response. With fumbling fingers, Usagi pulled the comb from her belt. The former Ram Heir leaned down with an eager hand. The gilt-trimmed horns of his black helmet gleamed in the flickering torchlight. Usagi hesitated.
Would surrendering the Treasure fix anything? She thought of what the Tigress had said. If the Blue Dragon had all of them, his power would be unparalleled. She clutched it to her heart and shook her head wretchedly. “I can’t.”
With a frustrated growl, Tupa leaped from the platform. He grabbed Usagi’s wrist and yanked the comb from her hand. “Too late,” he said.
“No!” Usagi cried. She struggled against his strong grip, but there was no getting the comb back.
He pushed her at Nose Hairs. “Bind her. She’s made her choice clear.” Tupa jumped back onto the platform and took the comb out of its silk wrapping. “And now we have the Coppice Comb!” He held it up for all to see.
As the Academy cadets cheered, Strikers locked Usagi’s wrists again and she fought not to cry. They pulled her away from the foot of the platform as Tupa raised a hand to quiet the crowd.
“It’s an honor to present these found Treasures to our dear leader, as well as an even bigger prize,” he announced proudly. “Lord Druk, your loyal forces await!”
The Blue Dragon strolled into the courtyard, still dressed in simple black robes, though he wore a sword at his side. He ascended the platform and looked out over the throng, his gray-blue face pale and sickly in the lantern-light.
“All hail the Dragonlord!” shouted Tup
a.
“Long live the Dragonlord!” The air reverberated with the shouts of the cadets, the temple monks, and the dozen or so Strikers who stood watch along the edges of the courtyard. From the foot of the platform, Usagi looked up at the Blue Dragon with dread.
He nodded brusquely at Tupa, then turned to the altar where the Treasures were displayed. The hint of a smile played across his purplish lips as he lifted each item, caressing them with long-nailed fingers. He lifted the Mirror of Elsewhere and looked into it for a moment, then laughed a low, amused chuckle. “Captain Tupa, you’ve proven yourself admirably,” the Blue Dragon said. As Tupa bowed, the Blue Dragon waved a hand. “Bring out the witch of Mount Jade! It is time for the sacrifice.”
Chapter 24
Sacrifice
THE FAINT THUMP OF TEMPLE drums all across the city pulsed in the air, heralding spring’s arrival. But a hush fell over the palace temple as two Dragonstrikers brought out the Tigress, her gnarled hands tied before her. Her long hair had unraveled out of its braid, hanging around her wrinkled face like a ragged striped curtain. The Strikers dragged Horangi onto the platform and unceremoniously dumped her before the Blue Dragon. Usagi yelped in outrage. How dare they treat the last Warrior of the Zodiac that way?
A strange expression crossed the Blue Dragon’s face. He bent down and helped Horangi to her feet. “Hello, Teacher,” he said quietly, steadying her. He looked around, his black eyes gleaming. “Where is her staff? Bring it here now—we aren’t barbarians.”
As he placed it in her hand, the old warrior gazed at him and sucked in a breath. “By the Twelve, what have you done to yourself, Druk?”
“I have become my true self.” The Dragonlord straightened and stared down at Horangi. “By taking precious metals, I am stronger than ever—the ultimate Metal Dragon. Ingenious, is it not? The Hulagans believe that metal begets metal. No one has ever tried strengthening their elemental gifts in this way—except me.”
“Drinking silver and gold will not fortify you in the way you think,” said the Tigress severely, as if he were a youngling still.