(Another very long chapter, but I'm guessing you're used to these by now. :p And for Spartan Guy and anyone else thinking like him, you get a gold star—this chapter is almost exclusively about the Wu Sisters, and Mei Ling, so be prepared for some major backstory.)
Under the shade of a brightly painted awning, as much to avoid the baking heat of the summer sun as to remain concealed from and unknown to the villagers of the Valley of Peace, three slim figures were seated in the roughly paved courtyard of what was reputed to be the best noodle shop in town.
Despite the weather, they kept their dark cloaks wrapped close, something which caused at least two of them to pant heavily as their lusciously thick, spotted pelts became soaked with sweat—because the last thing they wanted was for anyone to discover who they truly were and reveal to those in the Jade Palace that they were so close, so out in the open. To prevent that, to ensure their mission was a success…and that they did not fail Heian Chao…anything could and would be endured.
And yet not all of them seemed quite as fixated upon said mission. The eldest of the three had her pale blue eyes trained on the dithering, scatterbrained goose puttering around behind the counter—observing every detail so as to perfectly memorize his routine, the layout of the bare-timbered, old-fashioned kitchen, whatever information would be needed for their next foray.
The middle sister was raptly and clinically watching the constantly shifting clots of people milling about amongst the crowded tables, discerning patterns in their activity so as to compile who the regulars were—as well as when they came, how long they stayed…when the goose would be alone and vulnerable in his restaurant.
But as for Wu Jia—she wasn't even paying attention to anything around her, because she was avidly and happily devouring the menu.
"Oooo, eggplant in garlic sauce! You don't see that every day…and kung pao tofu, and sautéed spinach, and…" She looked up from the surprisingly varied choice of selections and fixed her round violet eyes on her sisters in excitement. "Oh, I just can't decide! Could I maybe have a little of each? Please?"
Xiu gave her a long, flat look. "Do I look like I'm made of yuan? Besides, we have much more important things to worry about than food. Or did it slip your mind we still have a job to do?" Her voice lowered and darkened. "And we never fail to get our marks…"
For several moments, all was silent, save for the rest of the chatter filling the courtyard. Then Jia tried again. "But…they have salmon…"
"No!"
"Awww, you're no fun," she grumbled, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms in a huff.
"We're not here to have fun," Xiu snapped. Then her expression shifted to one of diabolical, fiendish delight. "Well…I am, anyway." Narrowing her eyes to slits, she peered back toward the goose, who was somehow supporting a whole stack of steaming bowls of noodles that reached almost to the ceiling, carrying the swaying column out to the crowded tables. "And don't you forget it…" The harsh, utter frigidity in her tone was as fearsome and sobering as the cruel set of her narrow face.
But then…Xiu had always scared her, even when they were little girls. And that, Jia reflected sadly, submissively, is how she got to me in the first place. Why even now, I can't help but do everything she says, down to the last detail…because I know just what she'll do to me if I don't obey.
Not that their mother, Wu Qing, had not been intimidating, disturbing, even frightening at times. But there had always been something different about Xiu, even from the youngest age. Something single-minded, harsh, and malicious…something amoral, beyond any capacity for right and wrong, good and evil—simply unrelenting, determined to win at any cost, and to be the best at whatever she chose to set her sights on. This seemed to be because she took that natural feline belief in one's own superiority and raised it to an unassailable level. Couple that with a rather monstrous propensity for dealing out pain and death, and…
Jia still remembered, with a shudder, coming upon Xiu when they were cubs—using a set of eye beads to focus sunlight so as to burn ants and other insects to a crisp. The sadistic, twisted smirk on her little muzzle as she watched them smolder and sizzle and smoke had repulsed and terrified Jia—but that had only been the beginning, as their mother encouraged her eldest daughter to nurture and develop this side of herself, suggesting instead that she should use honey to attract the ants onto a helpless victim, one who would then be eaten alive. Xiu had thoroughly enjoyed that…
Chun, who had initially been just as upset and nauseated by this behavior, was eventually trained by Wu Qing to coolly detach herself from all emotions so as to be objective and, of course, unmoved by the plights or pleas of others—perfect for her future as an assassin. But Jia had always been different…more like her half-sister Mei Ling, something which had disgusted Xiu and infuriated their mother.
While the other two had followed in Wu Qing's paw prints and trained in the art of kung fu as well as studied the craft and lore of the assassin and ninja, the youngest sister had always found herself staring to the horizon, wondering what lay beyond it and wanting, more than anything, to see it. Kung fu did interest her, of course, but more as a means to an end—an excuse to travel the lands, so that while helping the poor, the needy, and the defenseless she could explore as much as her heart desired.
She'd even entertained the notion of becoming a merchant, traveling the Silk Road westward, seeing exotic new lands, meeting strange people and encountering unusual cultures and customs. She had been raised to believe she could master kung fu and become a hired killer so famous, respected, and feared that all would come begging her favor and paying the highest price for her services—something not exactly proper for ladies in China, who depending on their station in life were either expected to become delicate blossoms of the Imperial Court or to slave away as laundresses, seamstresses, mothers, and subservient wives for all their days. So it hadn't been difficult for her to dream beyond that, to seek out other, even less traditional choices for her life.
Yet in the end, those hopes and dreams had been dashed…and that too could be laid at Xiu's feet.
Jia ducked her head and shaded her eyes with one paw, trying to be as inconspicuous and unnoticed as possible, as her thoughts ran down the same well-worn course they had off and on for the last twenty years—ever since the invasion of the Huns and the Sisters' departure from Li Dai. Their father had still been alive then…in fact, that had been crucial, a key part of Xiu's plans.
For when the eldest snow leopardess had come to her siblings with the offer from the Hun chieftain—more than enough to keep them comfortably well off and able to afford any weaponry, poisons, or stolen kung fu scrolls they wished to lay their paws on—Jia had of course refused to be a party to it. She was willing to perform some acts of questionable morality if it would help her make a name for herself, free her from the limited roles of women in society, or give her access to the riches she'd need to maintain her youthful beauty. But even she had her limits! The Huns were ruthless, cruel barbarians, and while it might seem hard for some to believe, Jia was a loyal daughter of the Empire.
That was before Xiu threatened Wu Xuan, however. Unlike Chun and especially Xiu, Jia had never borne any animus toward their father. In fact, there had been many times when he came to visit Mei Ling at the academy that she had taken advantage of his presence and slipped away to have some serious bonding time with him and her half-sister. And on other occasions, while traveling on missions for Master Hu or on her way home to attend Mother, she had used these pretexts to take side trips to visit him alone.
His wife, of course, had been decidedly cool toward her, but had eventually relented when she discovered Jia was neither emotionless nor heartless like her sisters. Many a night had been spent amid peals of laughter and platters of rich, hearty food, and Xu Mei had even whispered once, while embracing her, what a good girl she was and how very like Mei Ling—things her own mother had never bothered to say and refused to countenance, respectively. Her father, in turn, had reverently and with great ceremony given her his old scimitar, saying she had more need of it than he did and that his days as a warrior were done in any case.
So when her blue-eyed sister had calmly, matter-of-factly, and callously stated she would be paying a visit to Kunlun Shan, and leaving crumpled bodies and a bloody trail behind her, Jia's heart had turned cold in her breast…and suddenly, somehow, the fate of nameless soldiers she didn't know didn't matter to her anymore. Suddenly, it made much more sense to silently and obediently do whatever Xiu said, if it would keep their father alive and safe.
And that was how Jia began her descent into darkness…for of course, every time the assassins were hired for a job she found distasteful, immoral, or just plain wrong, all Xiu had to do was muse aloud, wondering what Wu Xuan was up to and how at his age, he must have lost the reflexes and instincts he would need to survive an unexpected ambush, and Jia would immediately fall back in line. As if to prove how expendable Jia was, or how ruthless she herself was, Xiu would also occasionally suggest turning her youngest sister over to the Huns or the Mongols to take their pleasures from her if she didn't cooperate.
On those occasions, Jia entertained some very explicit and unholy fantasies of sneaking into Xiu's room at night to garrote her, or perhaps simply impale her on her dao saber. Of course, the eldest Wu Sister was far too quick and deadly, and too light of a sleeper, for Jia to truly attempt that. But it was fun to think about.
What had truly cemented her hatred, but also bound her inextricably to the life of an assassin and the service of her sister, was when Wu Xuan had, indeed, been killed. Because no matter what Chun, Mei Ling, or anyone else tried to tell her, Jia knew…as Xiu had nonchalantly, coldly, and unequivocally told her…that it was her fault he was dead.
Ever since fleeing Li Dai in the night, she had refrained from traveling to Kunlun Shan, to the home of Xu Mei and Wu Xuan—to keep them safe, she had told herself, but in truth she knew, secretly, it was to keep from having to face what she had become…and what they would think of her. What they would say to her face, should she present herself at their door and pretend nothing was wrong, nothing had changed. Yet when Mei Ling graduated from Li Dai with the highest honors ever known for a kung fu warrior, and then set out to master all one thousand scrolls the same as Tai Lung had before her—something no woman had ever accomplished—Jia had felt compelled to make the journey anyway.
Part of it was self-preservation: with her half-sister becoming ever more talented, impressive, and invincible on the field of battle, the truth about how she became a Wu Sister and why she followed Xiu's orders had to be imparted posthaste; if it wasn't, Mei Ling would likely track them down, and Jia herself would be killed before she could ever explain. But she had also wanted to congratulate Mei, if she was there…to apologize for her actions…and to simply see them again, one last time. So she had chanced it.
Secretly, where her sisters wouldn't see it, with their attention still distracted by the goose and his patrons, Jia wiped the tears that suddenly welled up from her violet eyes. That was my failure, the worst mistake I ever made.
Because, even though she'd been certain she escaped the inn where they'd been staying, and slipped away into the night without anyone being the wiser, Xiu had known. Even though she'd been careful to cover her trail and hide all traces of her passing, Xiu had somehow followed her. So that when she'd reached the cozy, thatched cottage nestled high in the snowy mountain peaks, when she had found her father out in the front yard, chopping wood and sharpening his axe on the whetting stone, and he had looked at her with the same love, kindness, and joy he always had—showing that as far as he was concerned, she was still his little girl and all was forgiven—both of her sisters had been watching her from the ledge.
And when she had taken the aged snow leopard in her slender arms, cradling him to her chest and resting her chin on his shoulder to purr softly in his ear…when she had whispered to him the last words he ever heard in life, 'I've come home'…she had a ringside seat for the horror that came next. It had all happened so quickly—one moment she'd been running her paws through his warm, beige fur, ready to lead him into the cottage for a steaming cup of tea…and the next, he'd stiffened against her leather vest and let out a strangled, horrified cry.
Even now, she could play through her memories with perfect clarity, as if it were only yesterday: the blood that trickled slowly and thickly down over her fingers; the hilt of the dagger—her own dagger!—suddenly sprouting from the middle of his back like the seed of a deadly, awful flower; the spasms and twitching that went through his body as the poison on the blade did its terrible work; Xiu's conniving, satisfied smirk as she stood with one hand on her hip by the boulder from which she'd hurled the weapon; and the look of betrayal, anguish, and disappointment on Wu Xuan's face, as he'd gazed up at her before the light left his eyes forever.
It was your fault, you know, Xiu had told her afterward, as she'd knelt in the snow by their father's body, weeping into her paws. If you'd just stayed away from him, if you hadn't let him make you weak, I wouldn't have had to do that, and he'd still be alive now. And anyway, he couldn't be trusted. He was going to report us to the magistrate, you know. Turn us in to the Emperor's guards. His own flesh and blood. What a father, hmm?
She hadn't wanted to believe it; even now, she still didn't believe it. The man she'd known had been honorable, even if he had disapproved of her choices in life he would have confronted her about it, demanded to know why she became an assassin, before he took such a drastic step. He would not have washed his paws of her. But in the end, it didn't matter; after what Xiu had done, she had known no one would ever believe she were not as black-hearted and wicked as her sisters, especially Xu Mei. After all, her own weapon had done the deplorable deed. Once Mei Ling found out, she wouldn't rest, would hunt them to the ends of the empire and beyond, until she received her well-earned vengeance.
And she couldn't even try to justify herself, to explain what truly happened. For she had later learned that Xu Mei had been the one to draw up the writ of treason and set the bounty personally on her head. She knew Mei would kill first and ask questions later. And even if this were not the case, Xiu had made it clear that any further forays to Kunlun Shan would have the same results—their half-sister, Xu Mei, their aunts and uncles and cousins, anyone related to them by even the smallest drop of blood, would meet the same fate until Jia understood her place.
Until she understood that to be an assassin was to be alone, and her future had been sealed. There was no going back. She was now one of the condemned, the unclean, anathema. No one would want her; no one loved her; if she left them, she would have nowhere to go, nowhere to belong. And it was all her own fault.
On some level, of course, she knew this all to be fabrication, a tissue of lies. But there was just enough truth mingled with the falsehood to give her pause. Her guilt also weighed on her conscience, buying her silence and her compliance. Her life would be forfeit if she ever tried to go home; why, even her old mother would turn her in to be executed in the main square of the Forbidden City if she tried showing up at her door—not out of any sense of justice, but as punishment for leaving the grand and glorious life of an assassin to become a pitiful and worthless screw-up who couldn't do what Wu Qing had taught her.
And there was no question that while she hadn't killed their father, it had been her decision to go and visit him that led to all that followed. In that sense, it was her fault. And ever since that day, out of fear as well as guilt, it had become easier and more simple to follow along and do as she was told. She was caught in this life and saw no way out…and it made her hate herself as much as she did Xiu…
A tap on her arm made Jia look up warily, instinctively tense. Chun gazed at her with a flat, unreadable look in her green eyes, which then slowly flicked to the side as she tilted her head, the movement barely perceptible. Following her sister's motions, she spied Xiu rising sinuously from her chair and walking in the direction of the open partitioned door leading to the noodle shop kitchen. None of the other patrons seemed to spare her a second glance, save for a few nervous and uncertain looks swiftly hidden behind menus or the hoods of cloaks.
While some had found it odd, even suspicious, that the three always went everywhere wrapped in their black garments, especially in the summer heat, no one seemed to have made the connection to their identities. While snow leopards were rare, they were not so unheard of that any encountered must obviously be the Wu Sisters. Then, too, the citizens of the Valley of Peace were so sheltered from the rest of China, it was entirely possible they'd never heard of the sisters—the Dragon Warrior's knowledge may have stemmed from his love of all things kung fu, a passion which stood out in this village where people seemed more interested in being protected by it than learning or living it. Or else the Furious Five told the panda.
In any event, the fact all snow leopards were reclusive and standoffish also may have contributed to why no one seemed to recognize them…so while some were still made distinctly uncomfortable by her presence for reasons they couldn't explain, none of them seemed to think the snow leopardess was anything but a customer going to compliment the chef (or complain to him).
And that was just what Xiu wanted them to think.
Jia's heart sank in her chest, even as she rose along with Chun to follow her eldest sister. She knew what was going on, she knew why they were here. Ever since Xiu had learned from a villager that the Dragon Warrior had grown up in this noodle shop, and that when he wasn't living at the Jade Palace he spent his time here cooking and serving, she had been determined to scope the place out.
If they could manage to catch the panda here, away from the protection of the Furious Five and their master, it would make their mission that much easier to fulfill. If not, they could still obtain all kinds of useful information about his background, his strengths and weaknesses…as well as, if it came down to it, use his adopted father as a bargaining chip, or a hostage. Jia knew this, but she didn't have to like it, and she didn't. Not one bit.
If it were Tigress, of course, she wouldn't mind. After all, Jia's little assignation in Tai Lung's bedroom, aside from helping to appease her urges, had been intended all along to lure someone from the Jade Palace out into the forest so they could be slain, or at least eliminated from the fighting for the foreseeable future. The fact it had turned out to be Tigress was just an added bonus as far as Jia was concerned. If threatening the striped feline could achieve the same end with the Dragon Warrior, she was all for it. I saw him first, you know! Shouldn't I get first crack at that gorgeous slab of meat?
Sadly, though Xiu seemed at least somewhat sympathetic to her plans for Tai Lung, how close she had come to losing to Tigress had made her wary of getting near the striped feline any time soon. Which meant that instead, they would once more be tormenting and terrorizing the innocent to get what Heian Chao wanted…
By the time Jia caught up with her sisters, both of them had slipped into the fairly ancient, white-walled kitchen and taken up flanking positions—Chun behind the serving counter, Xiu in the corner nearest the fireplace—leaving Jia with the task of watching the exits. Rolling her eyes, but privately grateful she wouldn't be required to either intimidate or directly threaten the noodle maker, she shut and bolted the door behind her and leaned casually against it, arms crossed—to the most unobservant viewer, simply reclining and lazily watching the proceedings.
But if anyone interrupted, or tried to interfere, she would immediately spring into rapid-fire action…yet she sincerely hoped no one did. The people of the Valley of Peace were not like the Wu Sisters' usual prey—they were genuinely kind, hard-working, gentle, and completely unthreatening. They weren't corrupt like politicians and courtiers, pugnacious and violent like the barbarian hordes, or clear and open enemies like the generals and other officials of the empire. They did not deserve the pain, suffering, and cruelty that Xiu demanded they deal out…
Glancing around the kitchen—noting with some surprise that not only was it quite warm, cozy, and homey, with a bare-beamed roof, plenty of crockery and shelves to spare, and even some rather festive lanterns of a lurid crimson, but that it also seemed rather small and cramped a place for a giant panda to grow up—Jia looked back abruptly when she heard the old goose's quavering, vapid voice.
"Oh, hello! Didn't see you there…what can I do for you ladies? Was there a problem with your order, or were you wanting seconds?" The bird chuckled, a sly grin on his bill, but then he fluttered his wings in slight agitation. "I'm sorry if you had to wait too long, I'm afraid my son isn't here today—ever so busy up at the Jade Palace, my boy is, what a brave and strong kung fu warrior!—so I'm a bit short-handed. And this is the busiest hour of the day here…"
Xiu cut through his incessant babbling with a curt slice of one paw, even as she forced her muzzle into a semblance of a friendly, encouraging smile. "No, no, nothing like that, sir. In fact it was the Dragon Warrior we wanted to ask you about. We've heard so much about him!" She batted her eyelashes disingenuously.
"Po?" The goose seemed befuddled and vague, but that might just be his usual state of mind for all Jia could tell. "Well, of course you have, he's a big hero now! Getting so famous all over China, and I couldn't be prouder…" He tilted his tiny head to the side, until the coiled yarn hat he wore almost toppled off, a slightly suspicious cast to his face. "But what do you want to know about?"
Apparently the panda hadn't told him about who exactly had nearly killed him near Yunxian, or else the bird would be a lot less friendly and forthcoming. Good for Xiu's plans (and Chao's), but it made Jia frown even more darkly.
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that," the blue-eyed snow leopardess said flippantly, as if the matter were of no moment to her at all. But her gaze was quite flinty, intent, and unyielding—she was determined to get answers. "I mean really, the story of how a noodle-making panda became the Dragon Warrior must be unique and utterly fascinating. Surely you have a little time to tell me all about it?" She made a show of looking around the kitchen. "Or will he be able to tell me himself? Does he come down here often?"
"Not as much as he used to," the goose said sadly, but then his voice turned surprisingly incensed and resentful. "First he was so badly hurt by those evil women, those cowardly Wu Sisters! Had to close the shop for a week so I could help Tai Lung take care of him, and then I was forever hurrying up and down those stairs, bringing him my old family recipe for ginseng, gingko, and eucalyptus soup…I'm getting far too old for such a climb, you know, almost threw my back out again. The lumbago, you know. But Mrs. Liu next door has this wonderful herbal remedy, thank goodness, you wouldn't believe…"
Jia was doing her level best not to burst out laughing at the inane prattle, to the point that giggles and peeps still escaped from behind her compressed lips, even as she marveled to herself: Tai Lung? Taking care of the Dragon Warrior? Whatever happened to that violent killer with a predator's instincts we all know and lust for? Chun, amazingly, had actually allowed the corners of her mouth to turn up in a suggestive smile, which she concealed along with a soft chuckle behind her paw. And Xiu, naturally, was fit to be tied.
But the eldest Wu Sister somehow maintained her poise and the intrigued, enthusiastic demeanor she'd adopted even as she shaded her furrowed brow and shook her head with a minute groan of pain. "I think we're getting a little off-topic here. If we could get back to Po? What is he doing up at the palace then? Is he still recovering?"
"Oh no no!" The scatterbrained cook slipped back on track without even blinking, smoothing out his apron and then crossing his wings over his stomach. "He's a real trooper, my boy. Hardy like a horse and strong as an ox! I might even have to hire one of each to take up the slack here while he's gone…" Xiu cleared her throat meaningfully.
"Anyway, he's been training, you know. Tells me about it whenever he can. I can't say I understand all the things he talks about, but it sounds like he's been learning oh so much. Especially from that lovely Master Tigress!" He grumbled, half to himself. "Not lately though, since I hear tell Master Shifu, Tai Lung, and the Five went on some kung fu journey out west—don't know why, no one ever tells me anything…" The slightly irritable expression left his face, and he leaned in conspiratorially, raising a wing to his bill to speak behind it. "Between you and me, I think they'd make such a lovely couple, but the boy just won't show any interest. Shy, you know. Oh well…"
Now Chun was the one to almost burst out laughing, swiftly disguising it as a cough, and Jia couldn't hide the enormous grin on her muzzle any longer. But Xiu had dropped all pretense at familiarity and sweetness, instead leaning in with a fierce, hungry expression as she grabbed the goose by the front of his pao. "I don't care about that! You mean to tell me he's not only healed, he's already becoming a master, in such a short time?"
She turned aside, glaring, muttering more to herself than to her captive, and her disjointed tone and slightly unfocused eyes made her look even more deranged than usual. Jia took a step back. "How? How does he do it? What is his secret?"
"Uh…kindness, nurturing, and many home cooked meals?" The bird shrugged uncertainly, his expression finally showing the wariness and fear it should have held from the beginning.
But before he could offer a better answer, or Xiu could shake one out of him, there suddenly came a loud, solid knock on the back door of the kitchen, and then a strong male voice called out peremptorily. "Ping? Hey, Ping? I got that replacement quern you ordered here—though I'd love to know how the old one got broken. Did Po drop it or somethin'…?"
Everyone froze in place, seeming uncertain what to do next—but while the goose simply hung limp and looked to be praying fervently for his life, and Xiu seemed to be weighing the various options of flight, killing her prisoner, staying silent and hoping the deliveryman would go away, or opening the door and killing him too, Jia exchanged a long look with Chun. For the first time she could remember in years, her sister's green eyes looked startled and stunned.
Prior to this, they had never managed to learn the goose's name—his identity hadn't been important to Xiu beyond his relationship with the Dragon Warrior, the few villagers they'd gotten directions from had only spoken of it as 'the noodle shop', and even the sign out front didn't mention the proprietor, only that it was the Golden Harvest Noodle Restaurant and the types of cuisine served within. Now that she'd heard the name, though, Jia couldn't believe her ears.
Ping? It can't be…okay, there are a lot of Pings in China, but even so…what are the chances that someone who lived in the Valley of Peace, who adopted the Dragon Warrior, and who was a goose for good measure, would have the same name? Bao and Li-Na said…
While Jia's thoughts still careened around in disbelief and confusion, the situation suddenly changed. For, not having received any answer (since Xiu had swiftly clamped Ping's beak shut with one paw), the workman at the back door decided to take matters into his own hands and investigate the unnerving silence.
They only had the warning of creaking hinges, and then the wooden panel was swinging open to let a broad-shouldered, muscular figure step into the shadowy gloom of the kitchen. "Ping? You okay? What's the matter, get too busy with your customers again? I know, you sell your Secret Ingredient Soup faster than you can make it…"
He trailed off when he saw the strange tableau just out of sight of the serving counter, Jia and Chun posed like dressmaker's mannequins by the door to the courtyard and the slatted wooden stairs leading to the upper floor, respectively, while Xiu held Ping under her arm as if he were a badly-wrapped, feathered package. He paused, and then he strode forward into the light with a menacing air. "Who are you? And what the hell do you think you're doing with him?"
Jia only had a brief moment to realize the fellow was a bull by the impressive rack of horns he possessed, and another to notice that even beneath his common laborer's clothing he seemed to be, ah, rather beefy—My, they grow them big here in the Valley, don't they?—before her eldest sister seemed to decide discretion was best. Setting Ping down and gently dusting off the goose's clothing, Xiu glanced at the stonemason with an absolutely false look of apology.
"Oh! Do forgive me, I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression. I'm afraid Mr. Ping just got a little bit…effusive about the Dragon Warrior, wouldn't keep quiet about him when all I wanted was to ask for seconds on that delicious soup of his. Isn't that right, sir?" Turning to look at the goose, with her back to the bull, she glared down darkly and fiercely, making it quite clear what she would do if he contradicted her.
"What? Oh…oh, yes. Of…of course. Yes, you know how I get, Zhuang. Can never have enough good things to say about Po!" Ping laughed, slightly disjointedly, and waved his wings at the snow leopardess. "This lovely girl asked me one little question about my boy, and off I went!" Flicking his eyes nervously to Xiu to make sure he was properly convincing, he added, "But you have a delivery for me, and they should really be going, so no harm done, right?"
"Of course not," Xiu purred reassuringly.
The bull—Zhuang—narrowed his eyes, as well he might, for while to judge from his menu Ping was an incredible cook, by comparison he had absolutely no talent at acting. But when the bovine spoke again, it was clear it wasn't just the situation that had him suspicious. "Your voice…do I know you from somewhere? You sure do seem awfully familiar…"
"Who, me?" Xiu giggled artfully. "No, I'm sure I'd remember meeting a strapping fellow like yourself. Anyway, I can see you're busy here, so…another time, handsome?" And with a wink, she sidled past the bull and out the back door, swiftly indicating behind her back for the others to follow her.
Those dark brown eyes stayed fixed upon them, staring out from beneath heavy brows, until all three of them had slipped into the alley behind the noodle shop and the door swung closed, cutting off his view. And a second after that, the veneer of politeness and gushing girliness vanished from Xiu's face and voice like expensive watercolors running in the rain.
"Damn it! I almost had him…just a few more minutes alone with that goose, and he'd have been singing like a nightingale." Growling ominously, her paw twitching as if it longed to be gripping the hilt of her narrow dagger—which she particularly enjoyed slipping up beneath her victim's ribs—she stalked out into the street, wrapping her cloak close about her.
Chun, following along docilely and as unflappable as ever, raised one eyebrow at this behavior and then observed, "Not that I care if you kill every innocent who gets in our way, but why didn't you silence that bull? He may have been large, but he was also outnumbered. We could have taken him."
Xiu shot her a withering look, her tone scathing. "I think you might be losing your edge, sister dear. In case you didn't notice, we were in a public place. Everyone saw us go into that brainless goose's kitchen, and not come out again. If a body mysteriously turned up there, all fingers would point straight to us, and then our mission would be compromised. No, far better to lie low, let that nosy neighbor forget about us, and then slip in again later when no one suspects us."
For a moment her eyes narrowed speculatively, then brightened with satisfaction. "He was right about one thing though…I think we have met before, though where or when, I haven't a clue. Give me time, and I'll track it down…for now, we did at least learn what we came for. The panda barely leaves the palace these days—and right now he's up there all by his lonesome. The opportunity has presented itself, and now we can strike him easily."
"Wait, what?" Jia burst out before she could stop herself. Even as Xiu glared at her and Chun shushed her, the youngest Wu Sister lowered her voice to a whisper and peered around the street guardedly. This time of day there were few people out and about, between the oppressive heat of the sun and the many chores and jobs still to be done, but it never hurt to be careful. "What about Mei Ling? He didn't say anything about her going west…" She paused, then added. "And you heard what that guy called him! Ping! That means—"
"I know what that means," the blue-eyed feline snapped scornfully. "And it changes nothing. As for Mei…we can handle her. We always have before. Now come on…we have work to do."
But as she and Chun trailed along behind Xiu on the way back to the inn room they had rented to fetch their weapons, remaining well out of the line of fire should her temper and sadistic streak flare up again, Jia couldn't help but exchange a meaningful and worried glance with her green-eyed sister. Because completely aside from the prospect of trying to assault the Dragon Warrior right in the Jade Palace, and hoping that their triple tactics would be enough to give them a fighting chance against their half-sister, she knew that Xiu was absolutely wrong.
It changes everything, she thought unhappily. How can we possibly kill the panda now? And who'd have thought: Xiu goes and dangles information about Tai Lung's long-lost family in front of him…and it's actually Po's we know something about…?
Rubbing wearily at her eyes with the back of her paw, Mei Ling yawned and tried to focus her mind on what she was doing—in the absence of both Master Shifu and Tigress, the mountain cat was handling all of the duties and major chores of the palace, ranging from overseeing Shen Zhuang's requisition orders and the work detail for the kwoon, to settling disputes in the village that the magistrate could not or would not handle, to inspecting the guard before sending them out on patrol of the Valley.
She'd had no idea how much there was to running the place—Shifu must be an absolute masochist when it came to work!—but in a way, she had welcomed the distraction. Yet now she found she couldn't focus on it anymore, and not merely because she was tired. It was because of the very thing she'd been trying to distract herself from.
Crane. Like all the other members of the Five, he had gone with Tai Lung and Shifu to answer that nasty piece of tripe, to take care of that despicable, inhuman killer once and for all. Even if the snow leopard hadn't spelled out, albeit with a certain vagueness, how dangerous this quest would be and what a wicked and cruel creature they would be facing, she would have known this. The goat who had died at Yunxian, and the many innocent villagers who had lost their lives here in the Valley, were a testament to that. With Tai Lung's testimony, of course, the threat was made all the clearer and greater—and so too was her fear.
The avian kung fu master was her dearest friend, but more than that, she loved him. Now, he might very well die on this excursion, never knowing how she felt. Never learning that the whole mess with the snow leopard was a charade to force Tigress's paw. Never understanding how sorry she was that she had so badly, if inadvertently, hurt him. Would she ever see him again? Would she be able to tell him the truth, what she would have said if Zeng's arrival hadn't interrupted them—that she loved him, not Tai Lung? Would he even believe her when she did?
Sitting in the chair at Shifu's desk (with her feet a foot or so off the floor, since it was sized for his diminutive height), Mei Ling buried her face in her paws and sighed, shaking her head. No one could believe her, or understand. Her own mother hadn't, when she explained it to Xu Mei, and the Wu Sisters—back when they were still on speaking terms—had mercilessly mocked and reviled her for straying outside her species, let alone falling for such a ridiculous, spindly-legged male. And so low-born!
None of them understood that she loved him for so much more than his appearance or his species. He was gentle and kind, intelligent and insightful, but most of all he was everything she believed a true hero should be: humble and unprepossessing, always willing to place the welfare of others over his own, sympathetic to others' problems, attentive and helpful, and above all, always determined to see justice done—but only in the most proper and fair manner. How could she not respect and appreciate that about him? Not to mention he was an incredible fighter and yet seemed completely unaware of this fact, at least when she first met him. Now, of course, he knew he was quite skilled in his kung fu even if he repeatedly downplayed his abilities when compared to someone like Shifu, Tigress, or even Viper and Mantis.
But it had been when he first responded to her encouragement by applying for Master Hu's training class…and especially after he was the only one to successfully complete the bull's course, when he claimed the red flag and she grasped his wing to hold it triumphantly aloft…that she had first felt these stirrings of affection turning into love. In fact if they hadn't been in public, cheered on by all the other students and training candidates, she would likely have pecked him on the cheek.
Yet she had never confessed the truth to him. Not because she feared any reaction or judgment from others, because she cared about her family's approval or Imperial censure—she already was doing things most men did not approve of, what was one more? And the great deeds she performed in the name of the empire more than offset any formal rejection or criticism, she felt. No, it was because…she was afraid of what his answer would be if she came clean to him.
Because why would someone like Crane ever wish to become attached to someone like her? She was such a natural at kung fu, so perfect as a fighter, righter of wrongs, and folk hero all across the empire, that she must seem like a paragon of virtue to him, something beyond his reach. And she came from a prestigious family, on both sides—her father Wu Xuan was from a long line of personal bodyguards to the Emperor, and her mother was descended from the ruling clan of Kunlun Shan.
Crane must think her a snooty rich girl, like the pampered palace maidens with their intricately woven Manchu hairstyles, porcelain-doll makeup, and bound feet. He must find her arrogant, disconnected from the common people like him, not worth praising on her lofty mountain top. It was the only reason she could think of why he never approached her, never broached the subject of love and marriage, only treated her like a friend and fellow kung fu warrior.
Besides, she had been too shy to mention it herself, too certain he would simply laugh at the notion of a bird and a cat linked romantically. She had waited for him to say something, and when he didn't, she'd assumed he must have his eye on someone else. Or perhaps he was devoted exclusively to kung fu, and so had sworn himself to being a perpetual bachelor.
Or could it be that maiden aunt of his, who had always been such a terror when it came to restricting his movements or allowing him any independence and free will at all? She'd fought quite vocally when Crane tried to enter Master Hu's class, only relenting when the bull himself had demanded that she let him have such a promising student with such potential train with him. And Mei Ling often had the feeling Crane had come to work as a janitor at Li Dai in the first place to escape out from under her beady eyes…
The mountain cat had tried proving her theory in the years since they had both graduated from Li Dai—if Crane truly were waiting until he no longer depended on his aunt for support and could do whatever he wished with his life, then perhaps he would finally approach her. But all the times Mei had contrived to bring herself within hailing distance of the Valley of Peace as she pursued fame, honor, and noble service to those in need of her help, the waterfowl had never once sent her a letter, let alone visited her in person.
It was possible, she supposed, that the notoriously strict Shifu had not allowed any congress with the outside world, let alone possibly scandalous flirtation with a female, and even Oogway was aged enough to be more hidebound by traditional morals than might seem likely on the surface.
All she knew was, she had made every attempt short of coming right out and telling him that he was the only man she wanted. There had been others over the years who caught her eye, and still others who attempted to romance her when they learned how respected and admired she was. And of course Tai Lung was incredibly handsome, well-built, and courageous. But in the end, none of her would-be suitors had treated her with the decency and courtesy that Crane always had…and as for the snow leopard, while he might have charisma and sheer animal magnetism in his favor, in the end there was one thing he didn't have that Crane did: an utter lack of pompous posturing.
Tai Lung would have been fun for a fling, or even a fairly serious love affair that would leave both cats panting and sweaty in their beds. But in the end, that was all it would ever be; though she respected him as a warrior, he didn't have that self-effacing, endearing sweetness that Crane did. He didn't have the quiet wisdom and gentle concern, the ability to be objective and diplomatic; instead of watching and listening, contemplating all angles before stating a strong position, and defusing tension by being demure and soft-spoken, he would be more likely to barge in, force his way into a situation and shove down everyone's throats his unilateral decision as to how it should be resolved.
Not something she wanted in her future mate. And in any case, Tai Lung was absolutely smitten with Tigress, and that was that.
It didn't even matter to her that she couldn't have children with Crane; if the subject ever came up, she knew there were a fair number of orphanages from which they could adopt, not to mention the unfortunately significant number of children left without families thanks to natural disasters, plagues, invasions, famine…the list was endless. And if the bird didn't want to be a father, that was fine with her too—kung fu was her life as much as it was his.
As long as she had the freedom to go where her desires took her, and weren't confined to the Jade Palace—and she would grant him the same right, and not insist he accompany her everywhere she went and thus abandon his companions among the Five—she knew their relationship could work, no matter what the naysayers thought to the contrary.
Yet now it was too late. She had waited too long, made one too many assumptions, and driven him away with her seeming devotion to Tai Lung. Even if she told him the truth when he returned, in such a way as to not alienate Tigress or ruin things for her and Tai Lung, somehow Mei Ling had the feeling Crane would never forgive her for keeping him uninformed for so long. That she had presumed he would love her simply because of their long association, that they could pick up where they left off and even go on to the next step after so long apart, and that he would go beyond the boundaries of propriety to court someone who was so obviously dismissive of manners and class, someone who believed she could flout all the mores of society if she wished, only to turn around and adhere to them only when it suited her.
She thought she could have it all, the free and uninhibited lifestyle so few women had as well as the love of a good man who would support her in whatever she did, patiently waiting for her to come home after she finished dispensing justice if he wasn't doing so at her side. But clearly, that wasn't meant to be.
It was too late, and she had lost him.
Looking up at last and wiping away her tears, Mei Ling glanced sidelong at the silk painting she'd hung beside the desk, so she could see it always as she worked. Her father Wu Xuan, as he had looked in his youth: slender, svelte, lithe but well-defined in his musculature; clad in the studded armor and bracers he'd worn as a member of the Imperial Guard, complete with his prized scimitar that he had mistakenly given to Wu Jia in the years between Mei's graduation and his murder; and oddly enough, a pair of trousers almost the same hue as Tai Lung's favorite, though that might have been because it was a color favored in royal circles. The artist had captured well his expression, which mingled cockiness and ferocity with honor and nobility.
"Oh Baba…what do I do? I know what you'd say, you'd tell me to always follow my heart. But what if Crane doesn't want me anymore, or never did? What if I've hurt him too much to be forgiven? I…I don't know if I can face that…"
She was still staring at his portrait, as if expecting it to spring to life and give her the answers she sought, when there came a sudden fluttering of feathers and a loud squawk from the window of the office. She whirled around to stare at the bird sitting on the sill, panting. "Zeng? What is it, what's wrong?"
In the week and a half the Furious Five, Tai Lung, and Master Shifu had been gone, she and Po had ministered to the poor, battered messenger goose—above all making sure he was well-fed, washed and clothed, monitored night and day and given all the medicine, attention, and proper bedding as Mantis had proscribed before he left. And while he had not fully recovered from his ordeal—which he still wouldn't speak of except in evasive and laconic speech—so that his eyes still bulged and darted about more than was healthy, and not all of his feathers had grown back in as yet, he had made such marked improvement it was quite a relief.
The injuries had healed, though the brands and scars would always be with Zeng, and he had seemed to deeply appreciate Po's lavish meals and eager, excitable ways once the goose's stomach and mind had recovered enough to withstand them. And while he couldn't yet formally return to all his duties around the palace, he was able to go out for short flights to survey the surroundings of the Jade Mountain, something his sense of guilt compelled of him and which pleased Mei Ling greatly even if she would never speak of it.
However, Zeng seemed almost as flustered, terrified, and disturbed this evening as he had been the day he'd arrived with that cruel message—something which instantly had the mountain cat's hackles rising. "Master Ling—I came as fast as I could—I knew you'd want to hear about this…"
Rising from the chair and crossing to his side in only a few steps, she hurriedly reached out and wrapped a comforting arm around him. "Hey, it's okay…calm down, breathe, speak slowly…what's going on? What did you see?"
The goose did as she instructed, but even when he could speak again, his whole aspect still seemed distressed and nervous. And when she heard what he had to say, she understood why. "I…I was out on patrol, and I saw them. Three of them. Coming up the mountain, right toward the Jade Palace. They were heading for the dormitory…I couldn't see them very clearly, because of those black cloaks they wore. But I saw the light shining off their weapons—and their fur. They were snow leopards, had to be…"
Mei Ling froze in place for only a few seconds as this news and its ramifications hit her. It was exactly what Tigress and some of the others had feared, the Wu Sisters were taking advantage of their absence to make another strike at the Dragon Warrior. But whether they knew she was here guarding him or not, she still had a chance not only to protect Po, but to gain the vengeance she had sought for so long. It was now or never; she might never get a better chance at this, at ridding the Valley of a major threat and finally finding some peace.
"You stay here," she said at last, in a hushed, harsh whisper. "I'll go check on Po…and give them a warm welcome when they get here." She turned aside to the portrait of her father and briefly pressed her fingers to her lips, then to his painted face. "It won't be much longer now, Baba…" And with that, she was out the door and racing down the halls of the palace, her paw already darting down to her waist to catalogue her weapons…
She didn't have far to go, however, before she found herself required to launch into battle—for as usual, the Wu Sisters were incredibly fast and prepared, their strategies well-planned, so that even after Zeng had spotted them they had already made it up the mountain and had begun their assault. Luckily it seemed that Po's training had indeed paid off, since not only was he, as yet, uninjured, he'd apparently escaped the snow leopardesses' initial attack at the bunkhouse and made it into the palace, to where he had more room to maneuver and access to weaponry and cover so as to make a stand. Because when Mei Ling burst from the passage into the Hall of Warriors, that was where she found the assassins and the Dragon Warrior.
It only took her a few split seconds to observe, analyze, and plot a response to the scene she beheld. With his back to one of the beautifully carved jade pillars nearest the Moon Pool, breathing hard from his mad dash but otherwise quite ready for combat, Po stood leaning back on one foot, the other lifted and tucked close, on the verge of lashing out in an Eagle Strike to entangle any limb which came at him—while his paws were drawn back, muscles taut, to strike with either Tiger or Dragon Fists.
Arrayed in a triangular formation around the bear, her three half-sisters had taken up signature poses which still held the promise of deadly force to come: Jia stood behind him, her meteor hammer uncoiled and dangling from one paw but easily brought into play should she wish it; Xiu had placed herself directly across from him, her poisoned dagger displayed so that it glinted in the light of the braziers; and Chun had positioned herself at his side, her war fan caught in the act of slashing viciously across the panda's chest.
Seeing this, Mei Ling let out a soft snarl—and even as the Wu Sisters turned and spied her, she was already acting, withdrawing from the leather pouch at her belt a solid iron throwing star and then hurling it with all her might across the vast chamber. The projectile struck its mark with such fluid speed and uncanny accuracy it was as if it'd been magnetized—and before the green-eyed cat could do more than blink and curse in vexation, the throwing star had pierced her fan and ripped it from her paw, carrying it onwards until it was pinned to one of the many paintings lining the walls. There, it quivered violently, giving off a faint metallic hum that was the only sound other than breathing in the quiet room.
"Get away from him," she hissed, even as she leaped forward to break apart their formation and maneuver herself in front of Po. Landing on one foot, she struck out with the other to drive the sisters back, but the nearest, Chun, merely sidestepped her kick with her usual air of bored disinterest—in fact she looked on the verge of yawning, something which made Mei Ling's blood boil.
From the side of the chamber where the Moon Pool rippled and shimmered faintly in the light of the braziers, Wu Xiu chuckled darkly, and when she spoke her voice was cutting, cruel. "About time you showed up, Mei. I was expecting you to already be waiting for us here—or at least to get here five minutes earlier. Losing your touch already? And at such a young age, too…"
"Why don't you come a little closer, and see just how incompetent I am?" The mountain cat gritted her teeth and narrowed her eyes viciously, both paws raised to shift, dart, and weave about—endlessly moving and fluid, ready to strike out or block at a moment's notice.
"Ah, ah, ah." Xiu pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Now is that any way to talk to your dear sisters?"
"You gave up any right to call me that almost twenty years ago," Mei Ling growled. "When you betrayed me, betrayed kung fu, betrayed all of China. When you killed our father!"
The snow leopardess visibly rolled her eyes. "Oh gods, you're still not over that yet? That's ancient history now! And I thought we were the ones who held grudges far too long…" She smiled nastily. "I don't know why you care, anyway. He was weak."
Mei Ling took a step toward her, bristling, as she brought her paw up in a menacing gesture—one that, if she followed through on it, would strike the Wu Sister's chest with enough force to stop her heart. "He was stronger than all of us put together," she choked out hatefully. "And all the strength I have, I received from him. So if you don't want to experience that again, I suggest you leave, now, and forget you ever took on your mission. I might have taken pity on you once, gave you the benefit of the doubt for the sake of the blood we share. But never again."
Behind her, Chun growled. "You think we really care about that? That we didn't wash our paws of you a long time ago?"
"And more to the point," Xiu added, "what really makes you think you can stop us?"
The mountain cat shot her a dark look. "I did before," she said quietly, dangerously. "And I can do it again." So she had—once when she'd caught up with them, immediately after their treachery at Li Dai, and again a few years later atop the Great Wall itself, when they'd been on the verge of taking out an entire guard post and simply opening its doors to let the ravening barbarians in. That had been when she was still fresh-faced and untried, nervous and not yet a master—but even if it had been by the seat of her pants, she had still won.
"We have learned much since then." Xiu brandished her dagger at a high angle beside her face, her other paw clenched for a low strike in the solar plexus as she began to slowly circle across the room, past the Moon Pool, spiraling in to bypass Mei and reach her true target.
"So have I," Mei replied evenly, but with a trace of tartness.
From the side, Po raised a paw to wriggle his fingers for attention. "Uh, me too, you know. I'm not exactly helpless here."
"Quiet!" the mountain cat snapped. "Don't give them any ideas…" The last thing she wanted was for the Wu Sisters to learn exactly how well-trained the Dragon Warrior had become; as long as they thought him still laughable and useless at real kung fu, they would be taken by surprise when he finally unleashed his true skill upon them, and as long as they thought her to be the only true threat, they would focus on her and not try to take him out.
But it seemed she'd underestimated them. Because Chun glanced aside at the panda with mingled disdain and amusement, shaking her head slightly. "Oh, we already know all about that, panda. You've been the talk of the town…everyone knows how many levels you've taken, and they couldn't be prouder of you." She smiled coldly. "Maybe our employer was right about you after all. Maybe you really are a danger."
"Po, get out of here!" Mei whispered frantically.
"Not without you!" the panda replied stubbornly, shifting to always keep the pillar at his back and the sisters in his sights. "Crane'd kill me if I let anything happen to ya…and after how ya cleared Tai's name…"
She snorted derisively at the bear's words. Right. He couldn't care less right now if I got in trouble, I think.
But before she could say more, Xiu interrupted with a totally false, sympathetic tongue-click. "Oh, don't be such a spoilsport. Let the bear play if he wants to. I promise to go easy on him." Her pale blue eyes gleamed like brittle ice, perfectly matching her wicked little laugh.
"Shut up!" To Po she whispered, "I said I'd protect you, Po, and I will. But you have to work with me on this. Don't put me in the same position Tai Lung was in—I can't fight off all three of them and still keep a close eye on you. And you've gotten much better, but I don't think you're good enough yet to handle more than one opponent. Please…listen to me. Trust me on this. I don't want anything to happen to you."
"Time's up!" the eldest Wu Sister cried with malicious delight. "That's more than enough strategizing for you—more than you deserve, really, but let it not be said I never gave my prey a fair shot." She nodded to her youngest sister, who up until that point had been still and silent even as she blocked the way to the main doors and the staircase. "Jia…you know what to do. He'll be so much easier to dispatch if he's all trussed up, you know."
Jia looked distinctly unhappy, or at least vague and uncertain, but Mei Ling would have none of this. She didn't even believe what she saw; it had to be an act, feigned for her benefit to garner pity, to make her stay her paw. And even if it wasn't, it was entirely possible the violet-eyed snow leopard could regret what she was ordered to do, even as she carried it out anyway. This was, after all, the murderer of Wu Xuan under consideration. One as heartless and unrepentant as her sisters, one who could never be forgiven.
She glanced aside at the Dragon Warrior again, and to her relief saw an imperceptible nod even as he too looked disappointed and saddened. Then, with a sharp jerk of her head, Mei Ling acted. Bursting into motion from a standing start, she sprang across the marble floor, leaping up to kick Chun right in the chin, rocking her head back and slamming her into the pillar, knocking over the brazier in the process with a loud clatter. Landing on the snow leopard's other side, she whirled about and plucked a pair of Emei piercers from a bracket quiver on the wall, bringing the silvery metal rods to bear.
To her surprise, and pleasure, she saw that at the same time she'd made her move, so had Po—and Jia, unprepared for his sudden competence, had not shaken her meteor hammer loose in time. Now holding the metal ball in one black-furred paw, the panda grasped and jerked it back in the same motion, an implacable and determined set to his usually amiable features…and abruptly the weapon was jerked out of her stunned grip. Free of anything Jia could do to him without daring to come within range of his paws, he turned and at once ran toward the Jade Palace doors, much more rapidly and with less lumbering than any of the assassins could have predicted.
For a few split seconds, Xiu stared at this in disbelief and rising fury. Then she snarled, "Well don't just stand there, idiot! Go after him!"
Jia shot her sister a contrary, mutinous look, but then complied—yet even as she ran with a fleet-footed, graceful gait that almost made her seem to float toward the now-open panels of gold and jade-encrusted wood, she was not alone. For Mei Ling was hot on her tail, already slipping the rings of the Emei piercers onto the fingers of her left paw and then snatching up a practice staff from a bin near the doors with her right. And as she aimed right at the rectangle of pale twilight which opened onto the steep, verdant slope of the mountain, she could hear clawed paws scratching and pounding on the floor behind her and knew that the chase was on.
Bursting out the doors, the mountain cat saw instantly that both Po and Jia were amazingly far ahead of her, having already reached the tournament arena and turned aside to follow the cobbled pathway that led toward the promontory on which the bunkhouse stood—and from how even the panda was dodging, leaping, and twisting to avoid the throwing stars the Wu Sister was almost half-heartedly hurling at him, Mei Ling had a pretty good idea how they had outdistanced her. Putting on a burst of speed, she reached a jutting section of the stone staircase, then pushed off with the staff to vault herself into open space…becoming a blurred streak of beige and black as she plummeted in freefall straight down the side of the mountain.
Catching hold of the gnarled limb of a peach tree that grew alongside the stairs, she dug in her claws and whirled several times around her perch to slow her momentum before landing adroitly and with barely a sound. But as she reached the arena gates and started to follow the Dragon Warrior and his villainous pursuer, something whizzed past her ear and clattered lightly on the pathway.
Hurriedly glancing down, she spied a small wooden dart, almost invisible on the bare ground save for the bright red feathering attached to it. To her shock, the soil was actually sizzling and sending up a thin plume of smoke where the tip had touched—it was coated with one of the most virulent poisons she'd ever seen! Looking up again wildly, she saw Chun had sped down the steps ahead of her sister, and even as she leaped and flung herself down toward Mei Ling, she was already fitting another dart to the bamboo blowgun she held in her paws.
Narrowing her eyes, the mistress of the thousand scrolls paused where she was and waited. It would do no good racing blindly after Po, if an attack like that could come from behind and horribly, fiendishly kill them. Obviously, the sisters were playing for keeps if they would resort to poison (and if she'd had any lingering doubts as to whether her own flesh and blood would slay her, they were now utterly dispelled).
She had to stay here, deal with them once and for all—or at least delay the assassins, take them out of the fight to protect the Dragon Warrior. She just hoped he truly had learned enough to take care of Jia himself…that she was not making the same mistake Tai Lung had made, only this time it really would cost the panda his life.
Chun was now only fifty feet above her…forty…thirty. The blowgun came up again, those chilling green eyes narrowed and focused above it. But Mei did not panic, did not launch into action, did not flee. She only waited, and watched…and at the moment she saw her half-sister's chest deflate with her exhaled breath, she swung her staff up in both paws, angled across her body. Her timing was absolutely perfect—as the dart streaked toward her, the length of wood rotated up and caught it effortlessly, the tiny missile quivering right before her face.
But she did not rest on her laurels, for Chun was already withdrawing another dart, and now Xiu had brought her own shuriken into play. For the next several minutes there was no sound except the whistling of the wind, the heaving of breaths, the thunk of metal into wood, and the telltale whizzing of projectiles in the air.
No matter how many weapons the sisters hurled at her, and no matter how invisible they might seem in the lengthening shadows, Mei Ling deflected or caught every single one—and while the throwing stars were easily caught in the bamboo and then tossed away, she even managed to knock the poison darts right out of the air without hesitation or fumbling. For one of her skill and talent, especially after her reflexes had been honed by drill after endless drill where Master Hu had similarly tossed missiles of all shapes and sizes at her on the Li Dai training grounds, it was child's play.
She didn't let herself get overconfident either, though—that way lay defeat and most likely death, for her charge if not herself. For soon enough, both the repeated stream of failures and the extremely narrow gap between them which no longer allowed for long-distance weapons convinced Chun it was time to change tactics. Putting away her blowgun, she instead removed from her waist the tried and true Wind and Fire Wheels, but Mei Ling was ready for her. Shucking her staff into the harness loops on the back of her vest, she slipped one of the Emei piercers onto her other paw and leaped forward to meet Chun.
Back and forth they lunged, and even though the Wu Sister had the high ground on the steps, Mei Ling succeeded in catching every one of her attacks with the arrow-headed rods. Several times each of the felines came within a hair's-breadth of stabbing the other, the jagged flames of the fire wheel slashing cuts in the mountain cat's tunic, the tip of the Emei piercer coming so close to Chun's face the snow leopardess became cross-eyed staring at it.
But then Mei succeeded in spearing both of her melee weapons right into the center of the metal disks—and in a complex, twisting maneuver, spun the piercers on their rings to wrench the fire wheels right out of Chun's paws. Even as her sister was snarling in frustration, the mountain cat leaped back a pace and then flung herself into the air, kicking out once, twice, in rapid succession. The fading sunlight glinted off the razor-sharp metal as each of the fire wheels spun with dazzling speed, sent by the force of her kicks back across the stairway—straight at Xiu.
Unsurprisingly, though also disappointingly, the eldest Wu Sister dodged one of the wheels, then ducked the other, so that one disappeared over the side of the stairway and clattered down the mountain while the other embedded itself in the pine tree behind Xiu. Yet Mei didn't concern herself with that, for Chun was coming at her again, this time only with her bare paws.
And as she grimaced in a rictus of disgust and contempt, she growled softly. "You know, I'm really starting to get tired of you taking all my weapons away. What are you, Baba's spoiled little princess? Can't stand to see anyone else having fun with their toys?"
She was trying to anger Mei with her taunting…and it was working. But even so, she didn't allow it to affect her kung fu; she couldn't. Bringing her piercers to bear, she snapped, "No, that'd be you, Chun," then drove one rod up along the inside of her adversary's arm. A long red line appeared as the flesh parted, staining the silvery-gray fur, and the assassin cried out, falling back, even as she swung the opposite leg to block Mei's attack of opportunity.
The blood was trickling onto the stairway, rendering it slippery and even more precarious, but they both ignored it, with Chun soon enough also ignoring her wound as she launched a flurry of blows at Mei. The mountain cat stopped them all, but in some cases only just. And even though she scraped her opponent's thigh and other arm, as well as plunged the Emeici into the hired killer's side (just barely missing her kidney), Chun still succeeded in backing her down the steps. She was losing ground.
A crunch of pebbles underfoot alerted her to approaching danger, and she whirled to the side just in time—Xiu had hurled her dagger, and it just missed stabbing straight and true into her heart. But with the amazing skill and speed which proved just why these snow leopardesses were the best of the best, Chun grabbed the knife out of mid-air, immediately inverting it and returning her wound in kind.
Mei Ling gasped as she felt the blade cut deep into her thigh, and she desperately prayed it had missed any major arteries—even as she removed the Emeici and tossed them aside, then plucked her staff from her back to block the next incoming blows.
More minutes passed, and even as the stinging increased in her leg and salty sweat ran into her eyes, Mei did not falter, did not budge an inch: Xiu had drawn another dagger to replace the one she'd thrown, but the mountain cat brought her staff up horizontally, dipping first one end and then the other as if she were back at Li Dai, meeting the sandbags swinging from the ceiling or the rotating arms of one of the training dummies.
Chun's blade, then Xiu's—back and forth, no matter how intently or furiously the assassins struck at her, she held off their blows. She had to; they would not pass. She could not allow the Dragon Warrior to fall; she could not allow her sisters to defeat her and get away with their heinous crimes. Not again, not anymore.
Finally, the tide of battle shifted. Chun, who was it seemed becoming rather tired from her own blood loss, stumbled briefly, almost falling down the steps into Mei's arms. And while she quickly caught herself and twisted to the side, it gave the mountain cat the chance she needed. Quickly inverting the staff, she brought it down and around in a vertical crescent, the other end coming up between Chun's legs, snagging her in the groin, and lifting—and with a yowl of anguish and annoyance, the snow leopard was hurled up and over Mei's head, over Xiu's as well, to fly the last twenty feet down the steps and slam into the arena doors.
With an audible groan, the middle sister fell to the ground, curled in a ball and clutching her head, before lapsing into unconsciousness.
Turning to face Xiu, Mei smiled…ominously, darkly, a look she knew would dare her sister to do her worst. And she wasn't disappointed, for the blue-eyed cat let out such an ugly growl that anyone else would have been terrified. "You think you've won…but you still count luck as skill, girl. And I was going easy on you, for the sake of family. No longer."
Mei laughed softly. "Sure you were. That's just something a loser says to make themselves feel better. Anyway, it doesn't matter how much kung fu you unleash on me—I have one thing you'll never have."
"And what's that?" Xiu sneered as she brought a second dagger into play, dual-wielding them in one deadly, flashing arc after another.
"You fight for money, or because you enjoy causing pain," she replied tauntingly, her staff once again blocking the knives within inches of her flesh. "I fight for, and with, honor. You…have none." And as her sister's eyes blazed with hatred and bloodlust, Mei whirled the staff in a rapid disc before her face, shoving out and down.
It caught first one dagger, then the other, sending them flying into the trees; smacked Xiu hard in the chin; and then, as the Wu Sister stumbled back and almost fell to one knee, Mei lifted the staff high and slammed it into her crown with an audible crack. With a scream and one last whimper, the snow leopardess crumpled in a heap on the steps, also out cold.
For several long minutes after that, however, Mei could not truly relish her victory—first and foremost because she was so woozy and dazed from her own blood loss that she almost joined her siblings in passing out. Only when she succeeded in tearing and clawing strips out of her trousers and tying them tightly around her thigh in a makeshift tourniquet was she able to stay conscious. Even then, she had to lean for another ten minutes or so on her staff, panting and gasping, until she felt ready to move again.
Even worse to her mind, however, was that her injuries, tiredness, and weakness also slowed her ascent of the rugged hillside toward the dormitory—even with the staff to aid her, she had a painful limp, one that made her hiss and gasp with every step, so that it took her another fifteen or twenty minutes to climb the steps when normally she could have raced up them in five at most. This, of course, gave Xiu and Chun time to recover—but worse, it left Po alone that much longer with Jia. Ruthless Jia, the one who hid her wickedness and treachery, her vicious and pitiless nature, behind a façade of cuteness and sweet wit. What would she have done to the panda, when Mei wasn't there to prevent it?
However, when she finally reached the bunkhouse and stepped into the narrow hallway, she discovered there was something else to worry about…something darker, more disturbing and frightening than anything she had seen anywhere in her travels across China. There was no sign of combat anywhere in the building, which was promising if rather puzzling, but it was quiet…too quiet. And all of the doors stood closed in the gathering night—except for one, at the far end on the right. Monkey's.
Mei Ling hesitated, recalling her odd and uncomfortable feelings whenever she found herself in the simian's company—somehow she had a very bad feeling about what he would do if he ever learned she had been in his room, and she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to see it in any case. But that had to be where Po and Jia had gone as they sparred, so…
Unlike the panda, she had the very light weight and expert skill to slip down the hall without setting off a single creaking board, so she was absolutely certain no one in the room beyond could have heard her approach. Yet when she arrived at the door and peered inside, she suddenly had the distinct impression she could have stomped down the corridor like an elephant and those inside would have neither heard nor noticed her arrival. And when she saw what had arrested their attention, she understood why.
First of all, the entire room was incredibly filthy—piles of unlaundered clothes, unwashed dishes and eating utensils, and uneaten food lay everywhere, making it both an incredible obstacle course and a disgusting cavern of a den all in one. No lanterns or oil lamps were lit, and all of the windows were closed with the bamboo blinds drawn, so that everything lay draped in uneven, cloaking shadow, turning even the most innocuous piece of furniture into a possible monstrous adversary. And the bed was such a rumpled, dirty mess, with slashed sheets and clawed headboard, that she didn't know how anyone could sleep in it—or how any of Monkey's neighbors could have failed to hear him thrashing and wrecking it night after night.
But that wasn't what had her so terrified. It was that, as she stepped slowly into the room, approaching the stiffened, silent forms of Po and Wu Jia in the exact middle of the primate's meditation mat, she suddenly saw what had their eyes riveted to the walls.
Every available surface—the rice-paper partitions, the wooden paneling, the scrolls and silkscreens, the dressers and cabinets, even the ceiling and some of the floor—was covered in hastily scrawled writing. Some of it was fairly normal, if applied with little regard to proper formation of the hanzi—wise sayings of Master Oogway, she presumed, quotes from Confucius and Buddha, mantras from various kung fu philosophies. But the longer she looked, the more worrisome and upsetting things became. Seemingly normal, if odd, phrases such as 'I like bananas' became 'I like dead bananas'…which were then illustrated with images of bananas being hanged on gallows.
Then the bananas were replaced by people…and it didn't take her long to identify the figures. Crane. Mantis. Shifu. Po. And over and over again, Tai Lung. Soon all she could see was the snow leopard's name, endlessly written over and atop itself…and then the words 'DIE DIE DIE DIE' covering the entire wall near the window. One of the words had been stabbed by a dagger, while an image of Tigress, all by herself, was off to the side, looking like a simpering doll as it was clutched protectively in Monkey's own arms.
Swallowing against the sudden lump in her throat, Mei Ling gazed and gazed at these nearly illiterate, obsessive ramblings, made all the more ominous by the shadows of dusk filling the room…and then she turned to stare at the others. She noticed, absently, that Po seemed completely unharmed, neither bruised nor wounded in any fashion, and for that matter neither did Jia. No weapons were visible either. In fact the snow leopardess seemed just as stunned and horrified as the Dragon Warrior. Her violet eyes flicked to Mei; she flinched, then moaned softly: "No…no. This can't…he can't…"
Her words seemed to finally jolt Po out of his own trance, and he turned to look at Mei with his green eyes more scared and uncertain than she'd ever seen them. "What…I don't understand. I…I know Monkey's been havin' some problems, but…how can he…?"
Before she could even attempt to formulate a reply, there came a scraping, creaking sound from the hallway as someone limped and staggered along it—how long had they been standing here, stunned by this awful discovery? Long enough, it seemed, because soon enough Xiu and Chun appeared in the doorway as well, although from the way they were clutching their sides and heads, they didn't seem to be up for another assault any time soon.
Xiu, of course, glared daggers at her youngest sister from eyes that still leaked tears of pain when she saw that Po still lived and was perfectly unharmed. But Chun had noticed the condition of the walls—and for the first time Mei Ling could remember, the unflappable calm and stoicism of the green-eyed Wu Sister seemed to be shaken. Jaw dropping, she quickly grabbed her eldest sister's sleeve and jerked on it.
"What?" Xiu snapped irritably—then, as she turned and saw what her sister was pointing at, her eyes widened. Again, Mei Ling received a shock as the snow leopardess she had always known to be cold-hearted and unmoved by any emotional appeal or pleading gesture now put her paw to her temple and shook her head in disbelief. When she spoke again, it was in a tone of anger—but also a trace of fear. "No. No, it can't be. He promised us. He made us swear not to…"
Chun had retreated back behind her mask of emotionless unconcern. But even her voice still sounded rather shocked as she stated, off-handedly, "Well. This doesn't look good, does it?"
There seemed to be no good answer to that, and none required. And it also seemed to be rather obvious to everyone in the room, Jia most of all. Because when Mei Ling looked back in her direction, the youngest Wu Sister had tears streaking her cheeks—and then, with only a wordless sob, she leaped out the window into the juniper bushes and was gone.
Very slowly, with extreme reluctance, Tigress gradually swam up out of unconsciousness. She felt so content, so happy, and so utterly sated that she didn't want to come back to the real world, to face the pain, harshness, and cruelty that had become her daily companions, that had seemed to imbue the Valley ever since the Five and their master had returned from Yunxian—that certainly awaited them at Chorh-Gom.
But she didn't really have much of a choice…because first, no matter how she fought against it, she could feel an inexorable cold creep into her body, the chill of the desert night and of the mountain stone penetrating her body as she slept on the cavern floor. And then, as this forced her back into awareness, she immediately felt an equally unwelcome ache, centered just below her abdomen…one that became all the more throbbing and painful as time passed. She knew what had caused that, too…
Shivering in the chill breeze blowing in the cave mouth, she reached futilely for a blanket to protect herself. She didn't find one of course—but she did come across something warm, thick, and heavy regardless. Something covered with soft, silky fur, but composed of bulging, granite-hard muscle beneath. An arm, a very masculine arm. But she didn't mind, at least at first…in fact she let out a satisfied purr under her breath and snuggled even closer, into the embrace of the other cat lying beside her, pressing herself against that very solid, powerful chest with its creamy white fur.
She could both hear and feel the heartbeat thudding behind it, almost perfectly in rhythm with her own. Strong. Dependable. Unyielding. Just like its owner. It was comforting and beautiful, gentle and amazing despite its usual mundane nature. It lulled her until she felt she could fall asleep again to its cadence, as did the feline's breathing as his chest rose and fell. Best of all was the continuous, rumbling purr he in turn produced, intertwining with her own and making her feel safe, protected—and loved.
Yes, she could admit it now, to herself if not aloud to him or to anyone else. She felt love from Tai Lung. She felt love for Tai Lung. Some part of her knew, or at least felt, that this was still wrong…but the rest of her, the vast majority, was only grateful that all the dissembling and self-delusion and overweening superiority were at last over and done with. She knew what she knew…and it wasn't the terrible thing she'd feared. It hadn't doomed her to the same wicked darkness that had claimed the snow leopard, nor had she, as yet, been hurt by him.
Well, except in one way. But that was purely physical, to be expected for two virgins. And he wasn't exactly…lacking in endowment. Tigress blushed furiously in the darkness, enough she was surprised it didn't illuminate the shadows.
Despite the soreness, despite the uncertainty of the future, despite not being sure—completely and utterly sure—that she could trust him, and despite the dangers and worries which beset them, the leader of the Furious Five didn't want to leave where she was. She only wanted to stay here, with Tai Lung…not because she felt weak and in need of protection and comfort, but because he made her feel…whole.
He could be there for her to lean on, on the rare occasions when she felt vulnerable and hopeless, and the rest of the time he could simply stand beside her, in ways that none of the other Five could. He understood her…they truly did have so much in common. She hated to admit it, but he was right about them being a perfect match in so many respects.
At the same time, though, that very fact still made her wary and afraid. What would Shifu say when he found out? Or Monkey? How would the citizens of the Valley react? People like Xiulan could rightly say her judgment was compromised, that she was no longer an objective arbiter of his heart and soul. It would be a scandal to rock the empire like none in many decades. Not that she cared what anyone thought of her…especially Shifu, right now. But she didn't want to cause more trouble for the Valley.
And there was the added danger now of something happening to Tai Lung…the Wu Sisters, as well as other mysterious enemies, had chosen him to corrupt, compel, or failing that, destroy. And now she had found him, she was not about to let anyone take him away from her…yet the suddenness of this feeling, how swiftly she felt herself turning from contempt and hatred to fierce devotion and defensiveness, worried her too. This couldn't be happening, how could she have let this happen? What did it all mean?
Was she becoming a weak, helpless damsel? Or was he simply filling a void in her life she didn't know she had? Which was she to believe—the violent fighter who had so suddenly and shockingly attacked Po in the kwoon, or the gentle, caring man who had reached out to her, respected her, helped give her back a piece of her cubhood? Was this really and truly what she wanted? And why, if so?
Even as all these contradictory thoughts ran through her tired mind, Tai Lung stirred beside her. And somehow, as she saw his eyes slide open a crack to reveal the golden hue behind his lids, all of her distress and fear melted away—at least for now. She only lost herself in those compelling eyes, smiling as she continued to lean against his chest, surrounded by the circle of his arms and the clasp of his legs—surrounded, above all, by his warmth.
"Mmm…hello there," the snow leopard said lightly, as if continuing a casual conversation they'd started before falling asleep. "I had nice dreams. You?"
Tigress paused, then blushed and smiled a little more broadly as she had to allow that she had. "Er…yes. I don't see how I couldn't, really. That was…it felt…wow." Such eloquence. "I had no idea it would be so…" Words still escaped her—was this why Viper's romance novels were so trite, because there really weren't words to describe it?
"Intense? Amazing? Vigorous?" Tai Lung offered helpfully. To her surprise, and amusement, he was blushing too. She also noticed a definite wince of pain as he shifted about and accidentally brushed his backside against the rocky wall behind him; recalling how she'd dug her claws in deep enough to draw blood at one point during their lovemaking, she bit her lip and injected as much sympathy and apology into her expression as she could.
"Yes?" she said, clearly responding to all three options, and the snow leopard laughed before clutching her close to his chest again, rocking her gently back and forth. For what seemed endless minutes she simply lost herself in the strength of his embrace, in the rich, musky scent of his sweat that had so aroused her from the moment she'd first smelled it. It felt so good to be here…as if, for this one shining moment, the rest of the world fell away and didn't matter, and that as long as she stayed here, she didn't have to worry because it didn't exist.
Chuckling and breaking her out of her reverie, he leaned in close to nuzzle her cheek, then kiss it. "Don't worry. I could be mistaken, but I think this is a good thing—it means we did it right." He paused, and then a decidedly embarrassed look crossed his face as his voice turned sheepish. "So, um...all that shuddering you did when we were almost done...was that...I mean, did you..."
Tigress stared at him for several startled moments, and then it was all she could do not to laugh. It was so easy to forget, at his age, that he was still so inexperienced, so new to all this. Not that I'm much better, she thought ruefully. At last, she managed to say, "Yes. Yes, I did."
Tai Lung blinked; again, he flushed; and then he smirked at her in a charming, and typically proud way. "Really…not bad for a grandpa, eh?"
She had to laugh at that one, even as she privately resolved never to call him an old man again if she could help it; he certainly had the stamina and endurance of a man half his age! "Well…I can hardly say I know from experience, but…yes, I'd say you did well."
Unsurprisingly, a cocky and suggestive look appeared on his face, and he leaned down over her so that the still fairly intense heat of his body washed over and soaked into her. "Hmmm…well, to be sure…perhaps we should do it again?"
She wanted to say yes. She needed to say yes. And she almost did. But at the last moment, even as she stared into his hopeful eyes—which she saw filled, not just with lust, but genuine affection and tenderness—she forced herself to say it, to voice her doubts and fears in the only words that made sense. "No. We're...I think we're moving too fast...I don't know if I'm ready."
Tai Lung's face fell, becoming so heartbroken she almost changed her mind. But then his look became one of consternation, awkward and rather baffled. "Don't know if you're ready?" he repeated incredulously. "But...I mean, we just…"
The striped feline cut him off by placing her paw over his lips, even as she closed her eyes and nodded tightly. "Yes, I know. And that's just the point! I mean…this is all so sudden, it happened so fast…" Growling at herself for sounding so cliché—But it's not a cliché if it's true and happening to you!—she tried again.
"We…we've been getting to know each other, getting closer, yes. But I didn't expect—all right, fine. I've wanted you almost since I laid eyes on you. Or my body did, anyway. But that's just giving in to desire…now we have to face the consequences."
"What consequences?" Tai Lung protested. She gave him a level look, and to his credit he had the grace to look contrite. "Oh…well, yes, but…it was only the once…"
"All it takes is once," she retorted, "but those weren't the only consequences I meant. We've only known each other two months, almost three. Are we really prepared for this, and everything that goes with it? Do you even know what all we'll have to do, what we'll have to face?" Her voice became intense and impassioned. "There's the Valley and Master Shifu…there's how this will change our lives…this is a major decision, Tai Lung. Nothing will be the same anymore. We have to be sure we're willing to weather it all."
She paused, softened her tone and expression as she brushed her paw along his cheek fur in a mirror to his gesture. "What we did…it was wonderful. But I don't know where to go from here. I swore for so long I wouldn't let it come to this…and now that I have, what comes next? Can we really pledge ourselves to each other? Anything less wouldn't be worth it…but…I'm just so confused…"
Tai Lung stared at her soberly for a long time, and it was impossible to tell what he was thinking; all she knew was, he wasn't about to explode in unfathomable rage, which was certainly a plus. Finally he lowered his gaze and sighed. "You're right, of course. I can't pretend things can go on as they have before. When we get back from Chorh-Gom…we need to consider what this means, what we should do. I can't expect you to start engraving the wedding invitations when there's still so much we don't know about each other." His expression became firm again, resolved. "But just tell me two things, then, Tigress."
Even as she warily wondered what he would ask of her, she nodded encouragingly; after all she had put him through up until this night, and what they had just shared with one another, she at least owed him this. "Go on."
He held up a finger. "We can't know where we'll go from here without spending a great deal more time together. Are you willing to do that? Can you give me the chance to keep getting to know you, and show you this isn't just about sex…to show you I love you in all the ways that count?"
Even before he had finished, she found herself nodding. "Yes, of course. It's as you said…we have to know, one way or the other. And that's the only way to be sure."
"Right then, number two." He held up a second finger—and while the words he spoke were ones she'd have expected to accompany a smug, self-congratulatory grin, instead they were spoken earnestly, forthrightly. "D'you regret what we just did? Even if you don't know if we should do it again, or when, let alone go farther, are you at least all right with it happening the once?"
Tigress opened her mouth…worked it silently for a few moments—and then sighed as she shook her head. "No, I don't. I'm worried, unsure, and more than a little stressed about it. But I'm glad it happened. I…we both needed this. Some things are still hazy for me—but some things are a lot clearer."
A huge, beaming, elated smile spread across his muzzle, making his features even more handsome, and he grasped her paw in his to squeeze it tightly. "That's all I wanted to hear. In that case, I can wait. We don't have to do anything—this, or anything else—until you're ready. Just as long as I can still see you, that's all I want." And he leaned down to kiss her once more.
By the time that sweet yet needfully desperate gesture was over with, both of them were breathing hard again—but true to his word, Tai Lung did not attempt to enter her again or initiate anything at all. He only took her in his spotted arms, cradled her close, and kissed the top of her head as he inhaled her scent. The master of the Tiger style didn't know whether to cry or purr, squirm or cling. She settled for simply holding him back.
One by one the minutes passed, with neither of them wanting to end this calm, beautiful respite. But at last, when she could put it off no longer, Tigress sighed and looked up at the snow leopard pointedly and unwaveringly. "We should be getting back to the others."
Tai Lung grumbled rather nastily under his breath. "Let them wait! There's nowhere I'd rather be except here, in your arms."
It was said so simply, so guilelessly, straight from his heart, that the striped feline had to swallow against an enormous lump in her throat. No one had ever said such things about her before…she'd begun to believe no one ever would. Forcing herself to continue, to say words she truly didn't want to say but knew she must, she said, "Maybe so, but I'm cold, and there's no wood here for a fire."
"You don't need a fire when you've got me," he replied with a purr, grinning cheekily, and she had to admit he had her there; his thick fur was so wonderfully warm and perfect for cuddling against. Suddenly she found herself looking forward to winter nights on the Jade Mountain, something she had never done before.
"They're going to be wondering what happened to us," she said as levelly as she could manage, trying another tack. "If we don't come back, they may come looking. Do you want them to find us like this? Especially Monkey and Master Shifu?"
Tai Lung lidded his eyes and hung his head, growling to himself even as he started to groan. "Damn…you're right, I wasn't thinking."
Wisely deciding, for once, to bite her tongue, Tigress finally added in a subdued tone, "And while I'd love to stay here with you just as much, there is somewhere else we need to be. Or did you forget about Chorh-Gom?"
"I was trying not to think about it, thank you very much." Still, despite the gloomy air that settled over him, and the grim determination that burned in his stern visage, he didn't direct his rightfully hateful fury at her. He only slumped his shoulders and closed his eyes briefly. "Well, it was nice while it lasted…fine, let's go."
Although the chill of the desert night had indeed settled into her bones, Tigress still took the time to search the cave until she found a small stream trickling down a grotto-like crevice. While she couldn't bathe properly, a little splashing and scrubbing was enough to remove the sweat and…other evidence…from her fur, as well as clean away most of the blood that had accompanied her first time. She would find time later to secretly bandage herself until the bleeding stopped, but for now this would have to do.
Similarly, Tai Lung did his best to clean the claw marks on his back—he'd have to put at least some ointment on them later, if he could manage to swipe it from Mantis without the insect being the wiser and spilling the whole sordid secret to everyone—and then both of them got dressed and slipped out of the cave.
The trip back took much longer, and not only because neither of them was running—Tigress's soreness extended to her ability to walk, but the snow leopard was nothing if not solicitous and attentive as he put his arm around her and guided her back to the campfire, the flickering light of which they could still see reflecting off of the overhang. By the time they were almost within sight of the flames (and those gathered around could see them), she had luckily recovered enough of her poise, balance, and constitution to walk normally without wincing or limping.
Stopping just far enough outside the campsite that they were still concealed in the darkness, she turned back to Tai Lung and took both his paws in hers, gazing up into his face intently. "For now, until I say otherwise, nothing has changed between us. The others can't know of this until I'm ready—and we can be sure how they'll handle it. Got it?"
Although he didn't look exactly happy with the arrangement—he probably wanted to shout from the mountaintops how he had finally earned the love and respect of the most beautiful kung fu warrior in China, or some similarly embarrassing endearment—the snow leopard only nodded in understanding. "Believe me, I don't want to set them off any sooner than we have to. I don't want to be mobbed with weepy excitement any more than I do screams and kung fu duels."
"Er…yes." Leave it to him to find the most blunt, brutally honest way to put the truth. "I also wanted to thank you."
"For what?" He smiled softly.
"Not leaving me alone, coming after me. For not giving up on me, no matter how much I tried to hate you and drive you away. For giving me something so…incredibly wonderful." She blushed furiously; she'd done so more times in the last half hour than she thought she had her entire adult life!
Tai Lung chuckled appreciatively, but only brushed the backs of his fingers against her striped cheek again before stepping back and adopting a more appropriate stance and posture for being in public again. "You're quite welcome, Master Tigress."
She paused, then smiled at him with a trace of her usual fire and vindictiveness. "One other thing, though: the next time you feel like helping out with Shifu—don't." Inwardly, she smirked to herself as she watched the contented, even cocky smile slide off of the spotted cat's face, leaving him looking uncertain, worried, and vaguely annoyed. That's it. Always keep him guessing. He'd better learn that just because he's found a way into my heart, doesn't mean I'm just going to lie down and curl up for him…
With that, she strode into the rocky, sandy depression where the others were bedded down for the night. Crane and Mantis, it seemed, were already asleep, and Shifu had his back to her as he sat cross-legged on his rock, apparently meditating. She didn't know if he were shunning her for her cruel treatment of him—which, even if part of her cringed slightly at how truly harsh she'd been with him, he absolutely deserved—or if he had decided (and rightly so) that right now he was the last person she'd wish to see and speak to. But in any event, this only left Viper and Monkey awake to greet them.
The serpent let out an explosive sigh of relief when she saw her best friend finally return, and she immediately slithered over to wrap her in a tight (but not injuriously so) embrace of her coils. The simian, meanwhile, had assumed his typical meditation position perched atop his stiffened tail, and as they appeared he only cracked open one eye to peer at the snow leopard before grunting sourly.
"'Bout time you got back here," he whispered harshly, to keep from rousing the others. "In a desert like this, you could've froze if ya stayed out there any longer. And there's all kindsa wild beasts and bandits around, not to mention that killer we be hunting." He paused significantly, then shot Tai Lung an artful look. "Wouldn't want anything happening to ya, now would we?"
Tai Lung ignored him, other than to only grunt out, "I brought her back, didn't I?" before stalking past Monkey to his own bedroll on the fire-warmed stone. The primate glared openly at his hulking backside—and then, as his nostrils flared, the curled thumbs and index fingers of his gyan mudra abruptly clenched into fists.
Rolling her eyes at his continued hatred and resentment—how long would he stubbornly cling to it? She'd barely been able to maintain her own this long, and he had far less good reason to do so—Tigress turned back to Viper, who was smiling at her. "Thank goodness, I was getting so worried about you! You were gone so long—what happened…?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, twinkling.
"I'll tell you later," Tigress murmured under her breath, looking over her shoulder at the disapproving scowl of the langur. "Right now, I need some sleep. I'm…very worn out." And she turned up the corners of her mouth suggestively as, yet again, she blushed prettily. It was like being a teenager all over again, or rather a more typical one than she'd been the first time around—what, was she making up for lost time?
Viper went silent, gazed up at her, and then began to grin knowingly even as she released Tigress and slithered to the side, allowing her access to her own sleeping pallet. She could tell the serpent was burning with questions, and dying for details, but even if she weren't so tired and their current mission made juicy gossip the absolutely last thing on her mind, she wasn't ready to have her love affair with the snow leopard bruited about so recklessly. There would be time enough later to deal with it, after they'd eliminated this deplorable murderer once and for all…after she'd figured out how she wanted to handle it herself, and where it could go.
As she and the tattooed reptile retired to their places for the night, Tigress might have been less sanguine, and simply had all thoughts of sex, Tai Lung, and even the monster they sought driven completely from her mind, if she had glanced behind her one last time. For as she passed him, Monkey flared his nostrils once more, picking up her scent…and abruptly his fists clenched even harder, visibly trembling as he drove his nails into his palms.
That was nothing, however, compared to how both eyes opened to skewer the back of the striped feline's head with contempt, malice, and fury…or how a sooty, crimson glow began to burn and flicker within them that had nothing to do with a reflection of the campfire…
(A/N: Not a whole lot to say here really, other than to thank RemTar again for his kung fu assistance—this time, with the Emei piercers as well as a little choreography, though I'm slowly starting to learn how to do it myself, thank goodness. :p Also, if the description of Wu Xuan seems vaguely familiar to anyone, that's for a very good reason. The picture Mei Ling had hanging on the wall is meant to be a shout-out to an early design for Tai Lung from Art of KFP. Of course, I prefer the final version of our favorite snow leopard, but this earlier look is still rather cool, I thought, so I found a way to include it. And since it depicts Tai Lung as of a more slender, lithe build, and a color closer to Mei Ling's, it made it a perfect candidate for her father. I managed to take a not very good screenshot of it using my webcam, which I've uploaded to my boyfriend's Photobucket account. Feel free to take a look! (Run all the parts together, without quotes, to get the link; this site's policies regarding links is ridiculous.) "img"."photobucket"."com/" "albums/" "v293/" "Ingonyama/" "TaiLungConceptArt"."jpg".
As I said, some darker horror elements showed up in this chapter, and there will be even more in the next, when Our Heroes finally arrive at Chorh-Gom. There will also be betrayal, and several more shocking and unexpected twists. So be forewarned. Lastly, I bet you're wondering what in the world is up with Jia's recognition of Mr. Ping, and her thoughts on knowing about Po's family. That will be explained and revealed in due time. ;) R/R!)
