Eagle (21 page)

Ying wondered if his mother had hidden a
qiang
or a knife in that corner along with the candles and fire-starting items.

She hadn't.

WanSow used the little candle to light a second small candle, which she handed to Ying. He raised it over his head and saw the true dimensions of the space. It wasn't very big, roughly twenty paces wide and thirty paces long. He watched his mother move to the back wall and stop there, facing it.

Ying walked to her side and saw that she was staring at a huge section of rock face that had been ground flat and polished to a high sheen. A simple map had been carved into it. Ying memorized the map in three heartbeats.

Tonglong approached and stared over WanSow's
shoulder from several paces behind. It took him much longer to commit the map to memory.

Tonglong backed up to the entrance, leaving Ying and his mother alone in front of the map. “Who carved that?” Tonglong asked.

“No one knows,” WanSow replied.

“According to the legends, it was China's mystical Treasure Dragon,” Tonglong said. “Do you believe that?”

“I have no reason to disbelieve it,” WanSow said. “Why do you ask?”

Tonglong smiled. “I was just wondering if I need to keep one eye fixed over my shoulder after I take his treasure. I've been told certain dragons can be vengeful creatures.” He looked at Ying and laughed, then pointed his
qiang
at Ying's head.

Something inside Ying snapped. He threw his candle at Tonglong and leaped forward as if he had nothing left to lose, for indeed that was the case. He heard the
click
as the hammer on Tonglong's
qiang
fell, and in the same moment he saw a flash of metal strike Tong long in the side of the head. His mother had thrown the fire stone's strike bar. Tonglong cried out, twisting the
qiang
in her direction.

Fizz … BANG!

Tonglong's
qiang
erupted with a deafening
BOOM!
inside the small cave. His shot went high, over Wan-Sow's head, and was followed by the terrible rumbling sound of massive boulders shifting. WanSow managed to take two steps toward the cave's entrance before a
huge section of the ceiling collapsed directly above her.

“No!” Ying shouted. He stopped short of Tonglong and turned toward the pile of rubble that had buried his mother. Out of the corner of his eye, Ying saw Tong long drop the smoking
qiang
and leap backward out of the entrance as another wave of grinding and shifting shuddered around them. Ying scrambled for the entrance but was too slow. A second avalanche of debris fell, this time over the entrance. In the blink of an eye, the opening was filled in with more rock than Ying could hope to move in a year. He was thrust into absolute darkness.

Ying glanced around for his mother's candle. It had been snuffed out. He could hardly breathe. Chalky dust filled his mouth, nose, ears, and eyes. He coughed and called out to his mother.

She didn't reply.

Ying clawed his way around the cave, searching over, under, and in between jagged piles of stone until his fingers finally found something soft. It was his mother's arm. Ying fumbled as quickly as he dared with rocks of all sizes, tossing them aside, digging his mother free.

But it was no use.

After moving everything he could in the blackness, Ying realized that his mother's chest and waist were wedged beneath a boulder as big as a horse. He would never be able to lift it alone.

Hesitantly, Ying took his mother's arm in his
hands, dreading what he knew he had to do next. He placed his battered fingertips on her wrist and felt for a pulse.

He felt nothing.

For the first time since he'd lost his best friend, Luk, Ying felt tears welling up in his eyes.

D
arkness enveloped Ying. He dropped his head, his mother's arm still in his hands. He felt as helpless as a toddler.

“I am so sorry, Mother,” Ying whispered. “So very sorry. I wish there was something I could do to help you … ”

Ying felt a twitch beneath his fingertips, and he nearly cried out in surprise. Was that a pulse? He concentrated hard and noticed that, yes, there was definitely something there, beating delicately, slowly, until it started to grow stronger and stronger.

Miraculously, just a few moments later, WanSow began to speak. Her words were faint but audible. Ying realized that she had slowed her heart rate to cause
herself to slip into unconsciousness. Her heartbeat had been so slow that he couldn't feel it. Now she was bringing herself back.

“You can still help me,” WanSow whispered. “You can help us all. Stop Tonglong.” She coughed. “Go.”

“Go where?” Ying asked, his eyes darting futilely around the utter blackness. “The entrance is blocked. I don't even know where it is anymore.”

“There is a way out,” WanSow whispered. “Feel your way over to the smooth stone map and push on the right side with all your strength. It should swing outward like a door. There is a passageway beyond. A natural tunnel. It leads outside.” She coughed again. “I watched the rocks as they fell. The map should be unobstructed.”

“I can't leave you like this,” Ying said.

“Yes, you can,” WanSow whispered. “Listen to me. I am slowing my heart rate down again. I will soon slip back into unconsciousness. I will feel no pain. I believe I can survive like this for a day and a night. Perhaps two nights. Stop Tonglong first, then return and help me if there is time. Goodbye, my son.”

Before Ying could say a word, his mother slipped into a deep meditative state.

Ying ground his teeth. Tonglong was going to pay. He bowed farewell to his mother and began to fumble around for the stone map. It didn't take long to find, and it took even less time to open.

An hour later, Ying was back at the ransacked house.
His
ransacked house. Tonglong and the soldiers
were gone. Ying began to look frantically for the skiff, and when he finally did find it, he shrieked in frustration. Tonglong's men had sunk it in the creek. He would have to head back on foot.

It was slow going, trying to run along the creek bank. There were many more twists and turns than Ying remembered. Also, the rocks on the shore were covered with thick algae and slime. Another hour passed before he reached the twin pagodas where the creek met the river. Ying turned to walk upstream and jumped as someone called out his name.

“Ying! Ying! Over here!” a girl shouted.

It was Hok. She was in a small sailing vessel with Charles, Fu, and Malao. Charles steered the boat toward the shore and yelled, “Swim out toward the center of the river, Ying! We'll pick you up!”

Ying jumped in. The river was colder than he'd expected. He caught his breath and swam hard across the current. Charles swung the boat near, and Hok tossed Ying a line. Ying grabbed hold of it and hauled himself aboard.

“Th-th-thank you,” Ying said to Hok.

Hok nodded. “You are welcome. Are you okay?”

Ying began to shiver uncontrollably. Whether it was a result of the cold water or stress, he wasn't sure. He glanced around the boat. “I'm fine. Where is ShaoShu?”

“I don't know,” Hok said. “He wandered off somewhere and hadn't returned by the time we needed to leave. We will go back for him soon.”

“We will have to go back for someone else, too,” Ying said. “My mother has been badly injured.”

“What happened?” Hok asked.

“Tonglong happened,” Ying said. “He is here.”

“We know,” Charles said. “Hok wanted to come here and warn you. I take it you've seen him?”

“Yes,” Ying replied. He looked at Hok. “There is a second map. Tonglong has seen it. We have to get to the treasure before they do.”

“How are we supposed to know where to go?” Fu growled.

Ying tapped the side of his head with a jittery finger. “I saw the m-m-map, too, Pussycat.” Ying began to glance up and down the riverbanks.

“What are you looking for?” Malao asked.

“Our location in relation to the map,” Ying replied. He pointed downstream, toward the sea. “We need to go that way. The treasure is hidden in a small cove on the coast.”

“Aye, aye,” Charles said. “Is the cove far?”

“I'm not sure of the map's scale,” Ying replied. “How far is it to the sea?”

“Only about half an hour.”

“Then the treasure is quite close. Perhaps two hours south of the point where the river meets the sea.”

“How far ahead of us is Tonglong?” Charles asked.

Ying stopped to think. “I'm not sure exactly, but I would guess perhaps two hours.”

“I'll do what I can to catch up with them,” Charles said. “We're overloaded, but we're not at risk of
sinking. This sloop overloaded is still faster than any other craft her size.”

Ying nodded and glanced around for a blanket or a tarp to help him get warm. Hok was one step ahead of him. She pulled a blanket from a storage bin in the bow and handed it to Ying.

“Thank you,” Ying said.

Hok nodded and hurried off to attend to something with one of the sails. Ying closed his eyes and tried to relax.

Charles’ sleek vessel raced down the river with amazing speed. Ying would have been exhilarated if he hadn't been so preoccupied with thoughts of his mother and their situation, not to mention Grandmaster.

They reached the end of the river in no time and spilled into the open sea. Charles’ sloop seemed to take on a life of its own here. It rode the waves like a playful dragon, slicing smoothly through the whitecaps as it raced south with Charles standing strong at the helm.

An hour later, Ying's shaking finally subsided. An hour after that, he could sense that they were getting close. He felt it in his bones.

Charles looked at him and shouted over the roar of the waves, “We're almost there, aren't we?”

“I believe so,” Ying shouted back.

“What are we looking for?” Charles asked.

“A hidden cave within a small cove,” Ying said. “On the map, it was little more than an indentation on the edge of a tiny beach.”

“It is probably well hidden,” Charles said. “More than likely, it is flooded by the tide and impossible to find unless you know exactly where to look. Hiding valuables in a cave like that is an old pirate's trick.”

Great,
Ying thought.
More caves.
“Do you think it is flooded now?” he asked.

Charles stared at the shore for a moment, then shook his head. “The tide is coming in, but it's still fairly low. Look at the high-water marks on the rocks.”

Ying looked at the rocks and understood. He scanned the area for signs of Tonglong but saw nothing. There weren't any other boats in sight.

They rounded a bend in the coast, and Ying saw a narrow opening in the rocks far ahead. Charles noticed it, too.

“There!” Charles said, pointing. “That hole looks promising.”

“I think that's it,” Ying replied. “All we need to do is—”

A Chinese junk suddenly slipped through the hole into the open sea. It was quite some distance away, but Ying could tell that it was large.

“Tonglong!” Charles said. “That has got to be him.”

Ying slammed his fist into his palm.

Hok hurried over to Ying's side. “Are we too late?” she asked.

“I think so,” Ying hissed.

Malao scurried up to the top of the sloop's tall mast for a better view, while Fu ran to the bow, his eyes
focused intently on the junk. “I think I see Tonglong on deck,” Fu said.

“I think so, too,” Malao said. “But my eyes aren't as good as Fu's. The boat is pretty far away.”

“Just a moment,” Charles said. He opened a small hatch beneath the sloop's steering wheel and removed a spyglass. “I forgot about this. I took it from HaMo back on the Yellow River.” He held the glass up to one eye and steered the boat with his hip.

“What do you see?” Ying asked.

“There are several soldiers on deck,” Charles said, “and there appear to be several piles of treasure. Wait … I see Tonglong! He is holding a large white sword.”

“We
are
too late!” Ying said, swearing. “Can we catch them?”

Charles lowered the spyglass and frowned. “I don't know. We have a lot of weight in this boat right now. I think we're out of luck.”

“Let's try,” Ying said.

Charles paused and shook his head. “No. They have a deck full of soldiers, and most of them are carrying
qiangs.
I also saw several cannons on deck. They would shred this sloop to pieces, and us along with it.”

“Do you think they can see us?” Hok asked.

“If we can see them, they can see us,” Charles said. “However, I didn't see anyone on their deck with a spyglass. I suppose it's just a matter of time before someone picks one up.”

“What are our options, then?” Ying asked.

“We could disguise ourselves as best we can and follow them from a safe distance, out of cannon range,” Charles said. “They might stay on the water for days or even weeks, though.”

Ying thought about his mother, pinned inside the cave. He didn't have that kind of time.

Ying pointed to the spyglass. “Let me see that.”

Charles handed the glass to Ying, and Ying raised it to his eye. He scanned the junk's deck and saw the armed soldiers and the piles of treasure, just as Charles had said. Tonglong was there, too, standing beside a soldier. They were examining the large white sword. Three more white swords and a suit of flexible white armor lay at Tonglong's feet.