Much later, Sochai opened his eyes and stared at the dim heavens. The congestion in his chest disappeared. He was weak, paralyzed. How could this be the feeling of death?
Why was he still in his corpse?
He was still bleeding from the deep gash in his arm, and there was a stinging sensation in his hand, cut open when she yanked her blade from his desperate grip.
How could a woman, so hideous and ugly, continue to live? Could anyone bear to look at her?
He moved his fingers, then his wrists.
Maybe he wasn’t dead yet.
He reached up, touched his throat, and froze. She didn’t slash him.
He touched his throat again, to assure himself there really was no gash from ear to ear.
Something was missing. He took off his gloves and rubbed his neck again. The jade. The jade was missing. She slashed the necklace to take the jade.
“He’s still alive.” It was a young woman’s voice, light, full of energy. “He lost a lot of blood, but I think only his arm is wounded.”
The voice of a young man followed from a short distance away. “Is he still bleeding?”
Sochai focused on the face of a small girl a short distance away, no older than eighteen.
“Hurry,” she said, a playful glint in her eyes.
The young man’s footsteps became louder. He was unarmed, dressed in the plain clothes of a scholar with a heavy knapsack slung over his shoulder. His nose was tall, his face thin, his eyes sparkling with energy.
“Pun, hand me the three-seven roots,” he said. He tore open the sleeve covering the wound.
So the girl was named Pun, Sochai thought.
Pun handed a porcelain bottle to the man, who took it over and sifted the contents onto Sochai’s wound.
The Mongolian felt cool sensations run through him.
The young man tore off the sleeve and strapped it around the wound. “He’ll recover. No major nerves were severed.”
“Let me put this in his mouth,” Pun said, pinching a small pill between two fingers. “Swallow.”
The young man had a perplexed look on his face.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Strange. It’s not the loss of blood that’s hurting him. You see the bluish tint on his skin?”
“Poison?”
“Strange.” He reached out and placed his thin fingers on Sochai’s pulse, felt it for some time, then pulled open the heavy coat and pressed against the Mongol’s abdomen.
Sochai’s energy revived after swallowing the pill. He planted a big hand on the man’s shoulder and pushed him away. “There is no cure. Thank you for helping me.”
“Mongolian!” Pun exclaimed.
Instinctively, Sochai reached for his saber, watching the man grab his wrist to intercept. The saber!
“Let me help you with that,” the young scholar said, trying to lift the weapon and almost dropped it. “It’s really heavy! Shouldn’t be lifting anything so heavy. Your arm’s injured.”
Sochai stiffened. Pun rushed over to help. “You want to stand?” She gripped his elbow with unbelievable strength, barely pulling him to his knees. “Don’t get up yet. You’re still weak.”
The younger man reached over. “Let him walk—it’ll help him feel better. The pain will fade in a while.” He turned to Sochai. “It’s deep in your liver. I need time to think about this. I’ve never seen this type of poison before.”
Sochai grunted, snatched his weapon from the young man’s hands, and, planting it deep in the snow, pulling himself to his feet.
“Maybe you should rest here and wait for us,” Pun said. “We’re running to Redwood Cliff to help someone. Li Kung, is there a safe place for him to rest?”
Sochai’s eyes widened. “Li Kung?”
“Yes,” the young man said. “My name’s Li Kung. What’s yours?”
“It’s ...My name is Sochai. Did you say Redwood Cliff?”
“I have a patient up there,” Li Kung replied. “She’s dying, but I just thought of a way to treat her. I think I can extend her life and stop the pain for another three years! It’s simple—”
“We should take him,” Pun interrupted. “We don’t know our way around these woods. We won’t be able to find him again.”
They want to kill you, Sochai meant to say, but he checked himself. The business of the arrogant Chinese was none of his concern. So this was Li Kung, the fool being hunted by the Red Dragon House. But why would this mere boy, no older than Pun, insist on treating an old woman even if it threatened his life?
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Li Kung studied the Mongolian with interest. “Your skin’s pale, but your eyes are shining. Interesting. You’re still incredibly strong.” He grabbed Sochai’s wrist and felt his pulse again. “Good. Good. The poison is still in its early stages. Something can be done. Perhaps Shifu Two will have ideas.”
“We need to hurry,” Pun said, walking away. “It’ll be dark by the time we get to the top of the cliff. Sochai can come with us, right?”
Sochai nodded. There really was nowhere to go, and if this Li Kung was truly a talented doctor, perhaps there was hope. He tucked the saber into his belt and followed.
“How did you get poisoned?” Li Kung asked, his thin figure beside the huge Mongolian’s. “I can’t imagine a race of nomads creating this. It must’ve originated in China.”
Sochai hesitated.
Li Kung asked again, “How were you poisoned?”
“I don’t really know.”
Pun leaned closer. “Really? You just woke up one morning and you were poisoned?”
“Yes.”
“Then you must’ve been poisoned while you were asleep,” Li Kung said, almost to himself. “Something this potent, if it was ingested, should’ve woken you in the middle of the night with pain—not in the morning. You would know it if someone pricked you with a needle while you were sleeping, so it must have come from the air. Yes! I think so. The air was poisoned!”
Sochai looked at him in disbelief, uncertain of whether to laugh or be amazed.
“Did it happen while you were sleeping in an inn?” Pun asked.
Sochai shook his head, annoyed by their ceaseless chatter and barrage of questions. He was the one who came here for answers. “I was poisoned in Mongolia,” he said in a low voice.
Li Kung halted, his long, bony fingers clasped together. “Really? Is that possible? Mongolian poisons are mainly snake venom. Something this complex had to be mostly herbal—”
“Now I will ask you some questions,” Sochai interrupted.
“Certainly!” Pun said.
They emerged from the forest, picking up pace despite Sochai’s poor condition, following a large, open road.
“This road is called Northern Pass,” Pun said. “It leads directly through White Clay Village and to the foot of Redwood Cliff.”
Sochai disregarded her. “There is a woman,” he began.
“You were poisoned by a woman?” Pun asked.
Sochai glared at her once, turned to Li Kung and continued, “This woman has a dripping tumor over her eye. Her nose is crooked and her mouth is distorted.”
“The Flute Demon,” Pun said before Li Kung could reply. “They say she’s a demon from hell, but because of something bad she did, she was sent into this world to become a woman. That was her punishment.”
Again, Sochai ignored her. “Li Kung, do you know who I’m talking about?”
“The Flute Demon,” Li Kung replied. “As Pun said, she’s known as the Flute Demon. She works for the Red Dragon House.”
“That’s where we’re going,” Pun said.
“Where can I find her?” the Mongolian said. “She took something from me. I want it back.”
???
“White Clay Village looks dead tonight,” Sochai said, pointing to a tight cluster of stone houses a short distance before him. Beyond the village, past a long empty field split by a single paved road, was the towering face of Redwood Cliff.
“Salt fields,” Pun said. She pointed to the foot of Redwood Cliff, where large square structures, no taller than a man’s waist, lined the open space. “This is how the Chinese make salt. On those salt fields.”
Sochai acknowledged them. The only road to Redwood Cliff separated the village in two, and once they passed the stone houses, they would be standing in front of the salt fields. Each salt field was wide enough to cover the area of a small house. The clay surfaces, elevated by strong supports, were completely covered with snow. The spaces underneath were used as furnaces.
“There’s no one here,” Li Kung said. “Salt workers live here, but no one makes salt in the winter. Too much snow.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The ocean’s close by,” Pun said. “The workers carry the water here, one bucket at a time, and dry them on the heated clay. They scrape off the salt and send it to that compactor mill over there.” She pointed to a small building in the distance. “They press the salt into bricks.”
The Mongolian walked ahead, stopping in front of a furnace, reached out with a gloved hand to brush the snow off the side. The image of a fierce, three-headed dragon carved in stone looked back. Sochai’s face darkened. He pointed at the carving. “This is the Red Dragon symbol?”
“And the Green Dragon symbol,” Li Kung replied. “They used to be one House.”
Sochai swallowed hard. “It is they. They invaded my home. One of their men gave me these red candles at the marketplace and that is how I was poisoned.”
“Candles?”
The Mongolian was shaking then. He glanced down the road, past the salt fields. A group of Red Dragon guards were approaching.
“Our escorts are here,” Pun said with a laugh. She tugged on Sochai’s sleeve. “We need to hurry. There’s a dangerous stairway we need to climb and the patient is really very sick.”
Li Kung hastened down the road. “Come on!”
The Red Dragon guards, each dressed in dark red, stepped in with weapons clutched, fanning out into an arc. Sochai grunted, sensing hostility, and closed the distance behind his new friends.
“Hold it!” one of the guards shouted. “Who are you?”
“I’m Li Kung, the doctor treating the Old Grandmother. I need to see her as soon as possible.”
One of the men broke out laughing. “We know who you are! How dare you come back here?”
Li Kung slowed when he neared the guards. There were seven of them, all heavily armed. They formed a circle around him. One guard, less menacing than the others, lowered his weapon. “Don’t you know that Master Dong wants you dead?”
Pun jumped closer. “What do you mean?”
“Please,” Li Kung pleaded. “I’ve just figured out a way to treat her. It’s worth a try. She won’t be cured, but she’ll live without pain for a few more years.”
One guard drew his weapon. “The boy has a death wish. Don’t kill him. Master Dong has a reward for us if we get him alive.”
He waved his sword with a gleeful smirk. Pun leaped at him from the side, so quickly that the guard barely noticed her. She planted a stinging kick into his ribs, sending him reeling. The remaining six guards hesitated, looked at each other once, and then drew their weapons to attack.
“Wait!” Li Kung shouted. “Don’t fight! We’re here to help the Old Grandmother. There’s not much time!”
Pun stomped into another guard’s knee, caused him to drop in agony, and in the same momentum, spun around and swept the side of his jaw with her heel.
“This is a misunderstanding!” Li Kung shouted. “We’re here to help!”
One guard came at him, out of nowhere, his sword swiping dangerously close. Pun spun around too late, still caught in her own battle, too far away to intercept.
There was a flash of steel, so fast that Li Kung had no time to flinch. The guard in front of him was decapitated. Sochai stood next to him then, replacing the heavy saber into its sheathe.
The remaining Red Dragons froze. “Intruders! Intruders at the base!” They turned tail and scampered toward the cliff.
Sochai eyed his friends. “Should we chase?”
Neither Pun nor Li Kung responded. Both stared with disbelief at the headless body at their feet.
“Shall we?” Sochai asked again.
“We better leave,” Pun said. “The guards will raise an alarm.”
“You ...” Li Kung stammered, barely able to speak. “You killed him! He didn’t deserve to die!”
Sochai’s eyes widened. He turned to the three-headed dragon symbol carved into the side of a furnace. “They all deserve to die!”
He spun around to walk away.
Pun grabbed Li Kung’s hand and squeezed it. “We need to go. Hundreds of guards are coming down the cliff.”
Li Kung, still trembling, pressed his eyes shut and shook his head. “We’ve seen people kill each other. But not like that. He was so ...calm about it.”
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