Part Eleven

Shang began to stir and, groaning, opened his eyes. He had a misty thought connected to Mulan, but he couldn't place it. His head pounded as if hoofbeats were stomping through it. Wait. It was hoofbeats.

"Come on, you stupid horse!" he heard a familiar voice – Ling's – grumbling, and an unintelligible mumbling followed. "Shut up," came Yao's voice.

Shang stumbled to his feet in an effort to validly address the gang of three, but it was four men who came into view.

The new man was tied with a rope and gagged with a bright blue cap.

"Soldiers!" Shang cried incredulously, but forced to steady himself from the exertion, "That's – that's the spy!"

"He was trying to escape!" Ling said proudly.

"We knew it was him," Yao put in, "'cause he was all bloody and he was hoofin' it!"

"But he ran right into Chien-Po!" Ling said. "I guess it was really Chien-Po who caught him."

"He is a misguided soul," Chien-Po said regretfully. The he saw the pain on Shang's face.

"Mulan was fighting him," the general said dimly. "He was her betrothed. But he knocked me out, and I didn't see what happened. I – I don't know where she is."

The gang of three stared at Jian-Die. Chien-Po pulled the cap from his mouth and faced him expectantly.

"Well?"

"She's down there," the spy said wearily.

They all swivelled toward the cruel-looking ravine. "There?"

Shang fully recovered in an instant and entirely forgetting his own injury leapt down into the ravine. He was met with the sight of a bloody, motionless body.

"She unconscious!" he yelled hoarsely. "Somebody, give me a hand!"

With one arm he grasped onto Chien-Po's calmly outstretched palm. With the other, he carefully supported the fading form of Fa Mulan.

"Outta the way!"

The doors to the Fa property flew wide open, and Grandma in her nightshirt led the way. With a single candle she provided light enough to guide them to Mulan's room. Shang laid her carefully on the bed.

"My daughter, my daughter! What has happened?" Fa Zhou demanded. He and his wife had returned from their night out at the exact moment the general and foot-soldiers came galloping feverishly from the opposite direction. "Tell me what has happened!" Shang quickly related all he knew.

"She gave her life for us," Fa Li said hollowly, her eyes seeming to stare at nothing.

"This show's not over yet!" Grandma announced. "You – " she thrust a mortar and pestle into Yao's hands – "grind this. Li, you help me."

Fa Li, overcome with unspeakable grief, still sank by her daughter's side with an air of resolution. The makeup Mulan had carefully applied earlier that evening was streaked with dust, sweat, and blood. He hair was dishevelled. With shaking fingers, Fa Li removed the heirloom comb and softly set it aside.

Yao had been gnashing at the mortar and pestle with superhuman strength; he handed the bowl of herbs to Grandma, and treatment began. Ling had gone to alert the night watchmen of their important catch. Chien-Po glanced scornfully at the spy who, still tied and gagged, sat watching the progress from his corner. He looked miserable, but Chien-Po suspected angrily that he was more concerned with his own fate than Mulan's. Besides, he seemed to be a thief, too – Chien-Po had seen a strange ornament in his bag when the gang had rifled through it for weapons or intelligence. Something made of jade.

Shang paced anxiously, cape swirling. He jerked the knot loose and hung it on a peg, and his eyes fell on Fa Zhou. The honorable Fa Zhou, who had been an Imperial general before his own father. Long before Shang himself.

But the appearance of Fa Zhou now was terrible. Watching with vacant eyes as his mother and wife flitted about his daughter, who, like a cut flower, wilted more each moment, his face became drawn and pale. He appeared, as he stood there, to grow old – to age several years. At last he uttered a short, broken cry, and fled from the house.

Mushu had ridden on Mulan's shoulder unnoticed most of the way home, until that skinny soldier shrieked "Snake!" and chucked him to the roadside. He had continued the rest of the way on Lil' Brother's back.

He and Cri-Kee were now pacing through the family shrine. Mushu could hardly breathe. He wasn't being dramatic. He really wished he were dead. He trampled flower petals for comfort. Why should they live when Mulan was going to die?

Suddenly he felt Cri-Kee's pull at his elbow, and Mushu ducked out of the way to avoid Fa Zhou, who rushed into the temple. He held a long lighted match and it crashed and clanged as he flung it into the incense dish.

"Honorable ancestors, honorable ancestors," he murmured, abjectly flattening himself to the cold stone floor, "please let my daughter live. Take me. She will not know how sorely she will be missed. It is better anyone died than my daughter. She thought she had to prove herself to us – again. She did not. Please."

Mushu hid behind a gravestone until Fa Zhou picked himself shakily from the floor. He blew out the match, and then he went away.

The temple flashed with light, and First Ancestor Fa appeared before Mushu.

"I tried to stop her!" Mushu cried, "But I failed! Punish me, First Ancestor, I'm awful!"

"Mulan is going to die." First Ancestor shook his head solemnly.

"Duh!" Mushu cried.

"There is nothing to be done about it." First Ancestor was accepting of the truth. But Mushu turned fierce.

"You don't even care that she's going to die! You think she'll be fun to play bingo with on Saturdays! You don't even want to save her!" he shrieked.

"Mushu." First Ancestor acted as if he were speaking to a crazy person. "You know there is nothing to be done except the reverse the curse, and that is impossible. There is only one jade flower like it in the world, and the spirits will not be appeased any other way."

"I know!" Mushu stamped his foot. "Jade flowers all over the place, but the spirits are picky picky. You can buy those as a souvenir! Look, I found this one in that darn spy's man-bag!"

Mushu's chest was heaving with anger, but he managed to push a heavy jade flower in front of the altar. "See! They're everywhere!"

First Ancestor Fa's mouth dropped majestically open.

"What?" Mushu challenged.

"That – "

"Yeah? Spit it out."

"Mushu, you are an IDIOT! THAT IS THE JADE FLOWER!"

Mushu paused a minute, hoisted it up and looked at it critically. "Are you sure? Don't mess with me, man. I mean it's kinda cheaper-looking than I woulda thought – "

"Mushu, you idiot! Fa Feng sold it to a learned man – a scholar. Wen Jian-Die must have been from that lineage! What a fortunate coincidence – it must be providence! Take it to the temple!"

"The temple in town?"

"Yes! Go! Now! Perhaps the spirits will be pacified! Mushu, place it in the alcove in the wall – if you get there in time, Mulan might be saved. GO!"

Mushu ran the wrong way, spun around, ran the right way, and tumbled down the stairs. Lil' Brother was nowhere to be found, but the temple wasn't far. He had had the jade flower for half an hour. If only he could get it there on time!

He and Cri-Kee dashed through the high street. It was dark and quiet because everyone, oblivious to what was happening at the Fa house, was asleep in bed. At the end of the street, the temple would be buzzing with activity by morning. But it was deserted now.

Mushu and Cri-Kee groped their way about in the dark temple. I think it's this way, Cri-Kee said, hopping up into a hole in the wall.

"I bet you're right. Get down."

Mushu shooed his friend from the space and, claws trembling, firmly placed the jade flower in the alcove. He wondered if he should pray or something, and waited for the spirits' approval.

And waited.

And waited.

Nothing's happening, chirped Cri-Kee finally.

"Shut up, it will," Mushu insisted. They had both heard stories of Great Encouters with the spirit world.

Maybe you put it in backwards, Cri-Kee suggested.

"Yeah, yeah, backwards, that's it, why didn't I think of that." Mushu firmly screwed the statue so it's back faced against the wall.

But as they waited and nothing continued to happen, Mushu's own spirits sank.

"She must be dead already."

The words echoed through the empty space, making them sound only more tomb-like. Cri-Kee patted his friend's foot, but all was silent. They both knew Mushu was probably right. There was nothing to do but go home and join in the mourning.

And it may have been coincidence (though some would swear otherwise) but at the self-same moment the form of the jade flower connected with the floor of the temple alcove, Mulan drew a single steady breath, and Grandma Fa bolted upright in her chair.