()-()-()

"She's so tiny," Mulan whispers, watching her newborn sleep peacefully in her arms, swaddled with the thin cotton blanket that lay on the cot.

She is so perfect, Mulan marvels. She gently runs the pad of her thumb across her full, rosy cheeks. Then her eyes open; black and twinkling as night and rimmed with thick lashes. Her perfect little nose crinkles up and she looks as if she's going to cry but instead yawns, her full pink lips making a perfect 'o'.

"I can't believe I'm actually a mother," Mulan sighs. "I am completely responsible for this little human. And I love her more than anything in the world." She fingers the wild tuft of soft black hair and smiles blissfully.

"What are you gonna name her?" Mushu asks softly. He had humbly offered to search for Shang after one look below her legs, but didn't end up finding him. When he came back, he was greeted by a squalling infant Mulan was trying so desperately to hush. But the baby turned out to be a pretty mellow thing, much to her gratefulness, and she fell asleep quickly.

"I like Mei-Rong," she says. "But I don't know what Shang would want. I don't even know if he wants her at all, since she isn't a son."

"What?!" Mushu blurts. "Are you kidding me, girl? Shang's gon' just adore that lil thing, he don't care if it's not a boy! Dang, you must'a really hit your head what when them Mongols were handling you."

"I don't know, Mushu," she persists, "Shang would want a first-born son to take over his position when he dies. That's kind of his family tradition."

"Yeah," he adds sarcastically, "and men joinin' the army is our family tradition."

She rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean."

A thunderous cheer goes up from outside the small slit of a window. Mulan slips off of the cot and looks out of it. Many lay dead on the steps of the palace and from what she can see, they must be Mongols because the Chinese are the ones cheering.

"They're all dead?" Mushu asks incredulously.

"That can't be right," answers Mulan, "They told me they had dozens of companies, all over China. And they were all supposed to be-"

Her voice trails off as she peers into the distance. Where she can barely make out the hundreds of horses on the mountain in the pale moonlight.

"No! Oh no! Mushu, we have to go warn them!" she exclaims.

"Wait, what about the baby? You can't run out there with it!" he tells her.

Mulan says nothing but looks at him and back to the baby.

"Mulan," Mushu warns, "you are not gonna run out there with the dang kid! It ain't even thirty minutes old!"

"Well I can't just leave her all by herself!" she protests, looking anxiously at the sleeping infant.

"Oh, yes you can!" Mushu retorts. "How the heck are you gonna jus' waltz right in to the war-zone with a baby in your arms?"

"Um," she murmurs, looking around the room, "with this."

She lifts up a small woven basket, just the right size to fit a newborn baby. It has two long handles so that she can easily carry it over her shoulder, and a curved cover so she can close it and the baby can still breathe, keeping the basket under her arm and out of harm's way.

"Mulan," he warns again, "as your almighty dragon guardian, I am telling you to stay put in this room with that child WHERE IT'S SAFE, and ancestors help me, if you take one step out that door-"

She yanks the other cotton blanket from the second cot and fits it in the basket as cushioning. Then she re-swaddles the baby tightly and places her inside, latching the top securely. Mulan places it under her arm. Mushu sighs.

"You're crazy!" he says, perching with Cri-Kee on the lid of the basket. "This is crazy!"

"Crazy enough to work," she answers, heading out into the hallway.

"Ain't you sore anyhow?" he questions. "Girl, what you need to be doin' right now is resting."

"I'm fine," Mulan says, trying to ignore the pain. "Anyway, here's the plan..."

()-()-()

"This place is too big," Shang mutters. "Mulan could be anywhere."

The palace seems deserted; he hadn't seen a single Mongol in it yet. Or anyone for that matter. But he isn't going to give up anytime soon with Mulan being took hostage somewhere, or perhaps even dead. He hurries down a flight of stairs and is about to turn the corner when he sees a door, ajar.

"Hello?" he calls. Shang steps inside what appears to be a closet or concubines' chamber, but something is definitely amiss. One of the two cots in the chamber is stained with blood and other fluids he cannot identify.

"What the-" He carefully walks around the room, examining the bed, an overturned water basin, what appear to be strips of cloth. The blood on the bed is dried but looks fairly new. Who died here? he wonders. Lifting the water basin with the toe of his boot, he immediately drops it with a shudder. Underneath it lies a gory intestine, and he instantly knows that whatever happened in this room was something gruesome.

Shang hovers over the bed and lifts the straw pillow to see if any weapons are under it, but instead of a blade, there's a small magnolia blossom hairpin.

The same hairpin he's watched Mulan fix into her hair dozens of times.

"Mulan!" he gasps. "No!"

No, she can't be dead! he thinks wildly. I just found her! She can't be dead! No! She can't be dead! I just found her!

He covers his face with his hands, millions of thoughts flashing in his eyes. Those goddamn Mongols, I'm going to rip out all of their-

Wait a minute. If we killed all of the Mongols, who killed her? And why wouldn't they kill her in front of everybody, why in some closet? And why wouldn't they lock the door? And where's her body?

Shang stares at the hairpin, his gaze shifting to the overturned water basin, and then to the cot, and then back at the hairpin. And then he remembers a very crucial detail that had been slipping his mind lately.

"She had the baby," he whispers.

()-()-()