Soaring Dragon, Dancing Phoenix

by Luna Goldsun

Sequel to "That's Why They Call It the Present". The Jiao Clan may be defeated, but the past has a funny way of creeping back to haunt you, as Po and Tai Lung are about to find out...the hard way.

9. Chapter 9: Phoenix Rising

Been really busy lately, and also feeling a little under the weather. I feel bad taking so long to update, so here's a nice long chapter for everyone to enjoy. I think 30 pages in MS Word is sufficient, no? Also, am I the only one having troubles with 's ads? It seems nearly every time I visit the site, my antivirus gives me a notification warning me about trojans and viruses. (Another explanation for why I rarely visit these days...after the nasty virus back in January, I'd much prefer keeping my computer in good working order, thank you.)

Disclaimer: I don't own it, and I don't own certain OCs; the Wu Sisters, Sun Bear, and a couple other characters are inspired by drawings from the Art of Kung Fu Panda book, so I technically don't own the idea of them, but names, pasts and character personalities are all of my own invention. Any OCs not recognizable from either film or art book belong to me; please do not use them without my permission.

Also, please note my warning for language in this chapter. Sorry.

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Chapter 9: Phoenix Rising

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Sun Bear took him away from the main courtyard, through a rabbit's warren of halls to a large tapestry. Tai Lung stood back and appraised the work, exquisitely detailed and fringed with gold threads; the subject was a brilliantly flumed bird soaring across the sky, high above the heads of puny peasants who worshipped the glorious creature. The bird's feathers seemed so real, almost like they fluttered in the wind as it soared, and even the bird's eyes were remarkably brilliant, as if the creature were to come alive and fly right off the wall hanging. The tapestry fluttered as Sun Bear pushed it aside, extracting a key from a lanyard kept inside his robes; behind the art was a door, painted to look just like the stone wall surrounding it. The old master unlocked the door and beckoned the snow leopard to follow, allowing the heavy wooden door to click shut behind them.

Tai Lung followed Sun Bear through one of the winding passageways behind this secret entrance, clearly carved right from the mountain's face, tunnels that cut through the rock as effortlessly and uniformly as a house's hall. The walls were appropriately bare, solid naked rock smoothed from centuries of use, the floor slick and smooth from a hundred—maybe a thousand—pairs of feet having trekked down these halls before. The way was silent, but for the tapping of Sun Bear's bamboo staff against the smooth stone.

At the end of the tunnel, they had come into a smaller courtyard, and looking behind him, Tai Lung saw to his amazement that they had actually progressed up the mountain's slope to a sight that took his breath away.

Directly across from the tunnel's entrance was a tall pagoda, roofed in solid gold tiles that shone in the blinding mid-day sun. The exterior walls were painted a vivid crimson, with virtually no sign of weathering. The pagoda's entrance was blocked by two massive wooden doors, easily a foot thick by his reckoning, the hinges quite literally shining golden in the sun. Mists and clouds swirled around the spires and drifted mere yards above their heads, and the difficulty he had breathing told him that he was at a much higher elevation than he'd thought.

"Where did this come from?" he asked.

"You couldn't tell?" Sun Bear asked. "We are far enough up the slope that the clouds hide this place from view. There is only one way up here, and only the most senior monks know about it. Believe me, this is such a place that the fewer people who know of it, the better."

"So why am I here?" Tai Lung asked suspiciously. "I suppose you'll tell me then kill me?"

"And defile sacred ground? Never. Besides, if I was going to kill you, I would have done it by now. I brought you up here because it is one of the very few places that we will not be overheard. I have had the privilege of divulging much from your panda friend, but now I need to know some things about you…"

"All right…" Tai Lung said warily. "Well, for starters, I've known kung fu practically my whole life. I…" he paused. "I was orphaned at an early age, and raised by a kung fu master."

"Someone I'd know?"

"Probably not—he was small-time, didn't really have many accomplishments to speak of. He was more of a hermit than anything else." Well, the last part was true; Shifu had always been a rather private person.

"There's something you're not telling me," Sun Bear said; he hesitated, then ventured, "Did this master treat you poorly?"

Tai Lung shook his head. "He…he treated me as a son, or as much as he knew how, I suppose. He was the only family I'd known, and all I wanted was to do right by him. But he…" he sighed, recalling the years he spent training. It had been arduous, and at times downright criminal the kinds of things he had been forced to do at such a tender age. Shifu, of course, believed any future Dragon Warrior had to be a prodigy, and thus cajoled and encouraged his ward to be the biggest, the strongest, the fastest warrior ever known. But now that Tai Lung had time to look back with the utmost clearest hindsight, he realized that while he had spent half of his life trying to attain the impossible…he had missed out on the one thing that any other person should have had: a childhood.

"He was demanding…nothing I ever did was good enough for him, and I started to resent him for that. I still do," he realized. "I know, now that I'm about to become a father myself, that he was strict with me because he wanted me to be a principled man, a law-abiding man, but his high expectations were almost too much to bear."

"He must have had great skill to have taught you what you know," Sun Bear said. "But my concern is that while he taught you skill, somewhere along the line he either missed the lessons on kung fu's philosophy…or he tried teaching you, but you never listened."

"Maybe that's what happened, I don't know," the snow leopard said. "I've spent a lot of time trying to figure out where I went wrong. I've done things I'm not proud of, and I'm trying to come to terms with it all. The man I am today is not the man I used to be. Just thinking of what I used to be…it's terrifying; like I'm a completely different person."

"I'd hate to have known you when you were worse than you are now."

The spotted feline scowled at the bear. "I thought you said this was a safe place."

"It is—but I never promised not to judge."

"You're a monk; it's not your place to judge."

"Isn't it?"

"Don't change the subject!" Tai Lung snapped. "You want to know what's wrong with me, fine! I went down a dark path, hurt a lot of people along the way, and I paid for it, just like I told you already. I used to believe in something, something bigger than myself…" he trailed off, fell silent and looked down at his empty hands, a faraway look in his eyes, "Something…to strive for, to achieve, to believe in. After a long time, I came to realize…I don't have faith anymore. I guess…I guess that's always been my problem."

"Among others, but a lack of faith is not a debilitating flaw, Tenzin. You're not the first kung fu master to 'lose it', nor will you be the last," the bear said. "You came here looking for a purpose, perhaps something you lost when you went to prison."

Tai Lung's jaw dropped. "How did you…?"

Sun Bear pointed to his eyes. "The eyes are the windows to the soul, and your eyes are far more expressive than you know. There is much light that I see, but on the edges, I can see not only great pain, but the kind of hardness and soullessness that accompanies a man who has witnessed and experienced the horrors of incarceration. I don't need to know the details, but I can tell you that the darkness that forced you to do…whatever it is you did…was not your fault."

Tai Lung snorted. "Giving into it was my fault."

"Yes, but not entirely."

"How do you mean?"

"We all have darkness in our souls," Sun Bear explained. "That is the nature of yin and yang at its simplest explanation. Your soul may not be pure now, but it was at one time. I have been studying you and Shang very closely since you arrived, and have had some striking revelations that I feel obligated to share with you. Shang, as you must suspect, has a pure soul. Honor and humility are two words I associate with him, as well as compassion. You, on the other hand, are a bit more difficult to pinpoint. But the more I thought of it, the more it reminded me of a certain legend…"

"What legend?"

"That of the Phoenix Warrior."

The pounding in his ears was deafening and his heart beat so mercilessly against his chest that Tai Lung had to fight to breathe. He tried to hide his surprise, but apparently Sun Bear's comment about his eyes was all too true.

"Your problem, Tenzin, is rather easy to explain. You were as pure as Shang, once, and your problem is that you are seeking a lost innocence. But innocence once lost can never be reclaimed. The reason, I suspect, you had such a violent past—for as a warrior, I suspect you harmed quite a few people in your life, which I assume lead to your imprisonment—was because you were so pure, it was too easy for darkness to creep in. That is the casualty of the pure of heart—they above all others are the ones most easily corrupted."

Tai Lung's eyes flicked over to the corridor, and down the slope, immediately thinking of Po. "Does that mean Shang will…?"

"Only with the intervention and love of a good friend can he be saved from following that path. You, I suspect, had neither the intervention, nor the friend you could trust. But there is hope for you yet, Tenzin."

"How? How is there hope?" he challenged.

"You realized you did wrong—that was the first step. You have moved on with your life after prison—the second step. And now you have something to show for it; you have a good friend in Shang, you compliment each other, and are dedicated to each other as true friends ought to be. But I can also see from your behavior the other day that you honestly, truly, and dearly love your wife. None of those things would be possible if you were still the monster you were before."

While that certainly made him feel much better about what he was doing, he still asked, "What does this have to do with the myth of the Phoenix Warrior?"

The old master spread his arms wide. "Do you see this place? Look around you… For over a thousand years, men just like you have come here seeking something that the outside world would never give them: a second chance. A way to wipe the slate clean and restart their lives as if all their sins had never happened. I will tell you now: not a single man in this temple has come here with a clear conscience and a pure soul…except Shang. Each of these monks have committed sometimes grave transgressions, and for that reason, they were not turned away. Where else would they go? Back to their old ways, back to the criminals they were before; here, they are safe, here they have the support they never received. This is the root of the Phoenix Warrior's legend.

"The story goes that the Phoenix Warrior—whoever he is or was, whenever he arrived or will arrive—must go through a complete rebirth of the soul. The first step in this path is to turn one's back on the past, to forgive not just the ills done against them, but the ills they have committed. The next step, as with any journey, is to look forward, to face whatever may come, despite the dangers. Only when one can completely let go of their anger and pride, all the negative emotions they feel, then they are reborn. Of course, being physically dead then coming back to life tends to help that whole 'rebirth' thing, too. But the essence of this story is that anyone can be a Phoenix Warrior, so long as they accept their mistakes, forgive the mistakes of others, and rise above the destruction and pain they have suffered. The point is to move forward, to rise and soar, and not to be trapped in a cage you made for yourself."

Tai Lung stared down at the courtyard's floor, paved with smoothed red sandstone tiles. As the words slowly sunk in, the confused, dim light in his eyes brightened with his countenance. "To move forward…yes, that…that makes sense."

"Do you feel better?"

The snow leopard looked up at the old bear, and realized what his true purpose was in bringing him up here in the first place; he was trying to put him at ease. But perhaps that meant he was trying to deceive him… No, he told himself. If Sun Bear really meant him harm, he would have struck by now. "Yes, I do feel better." He paused. "I've a feeling this is the last time you'll actually give a d—"

Sun Bear cleared his throat.

"—give a care about my feelings."

"Good save. And you're right," the old bear said smugly. "From here on out, I will not go easy on you. True, its clear you've punished yourself enough, and been punished by someone else, but by the time I'm through with you, you'll have a whole new definition to the word."

Tai Lung regarded him very carefully now. "I'm afraid to ask what you have up your sleeve."

"The feeling is mutual," he curtly replied. "Now, if you will follow me back to the main courtyard, it is almost time for supper. But before we go, let me stress this," he grabbed the snow leopard's arm and twisted it, bringing him in close to hiss in his ear, "I will not find you here alone—if you come here alone, there is not a force in heaven or on earth that will save you."

Tai Lung snarled and tore his arm away. "Is that a threat, old man?"

"Threat?" Sun Bear asked sincerely. "No, that was a warning." He cast a wary eye around the compound, then gazed into the swirling mists that had suddenly descended on the courtyard. "Do not come here alone, ever," he repeated. "There are…things, here…that do not appreciate uninvited guests. Men have come up here alone and were never seen again—whether they fell to their deaths from this peak, or if there are spirits here guarding that pagoda—"

"What's in there that needs to be guarded?" Tai Lung asked.

Sun Bear swiftly grabbed his arm and quickly escorted him to the tunnel. "The less said about this place, the better. Do not come here alone—the only ones allowed anywhere near that temple is myself, the high priests…" he paused, "…and the Phoenix Warrior himself."

---

Tai Lung didn't get the chance to speak with Po about his revelations until long after dinner. The other monks had eaten their rice and tea then retired to the temple for worship, leaving the two visitors alone to discuss what had happened that day. First, they related each other's visions with their ghostly visitors, then the things they had observed, and, in Tai Lung's case, impressive information he had discovered about the first Phoenix Warrior.

"You totally need to show me this nook you found," Po said. "I mean, dude, you found the Phoenix Warrior's journal! That is so cool!"

"You're missing my point, Po," Tai Lung hissed. "I think Sun Bear knows exactly why we're here, and suspects we're not who we say we are. We need to be very careful about what we say and how we act."

"But what about what Oogway and Ming Hua said? About things being hidden in plain sight?"

"I've been thinking about that," Tai Lung said, crossing his arms, and rubbing his bare arm to fight back the chill he felt. "The journal was hidden, but it wasn't exactly in plain sight. I think it was a warning, what they said. That if we go to seek out the Phoenix Scroll, and maybe the Phoenix Warrior's tomb—if that exists—that it's going to be right under our noses."

"We don't know this place well enough to know where to start looking, though," Po said. "So what do we do?"

"I don't know—I know for one thing, I'm not going up to that pagoda alone…"

Confused, Po asked, "What's wrong with the pagoda?"

"No, there's another one…" and here the snow leopard explained what he saw, relayed all that had been said, and described the overwhelming feeling that despite Sun Bear's swearing they were alone, Tai Lung had sworn he was being watched.

Po's eyes were as wide as noodle bowls. "Whoa…you think it was mountain spirits?"

"I don't know—but I got a rather nasty chill while I was there," the snow leopard said, rubbing his bare arms self-consciously, and looking around to see if they were being spied upon.

"Has nothing to do with the fact you were at the top of a mountain," Po said evenly, "Where winds are a lot stronger than down here."

Tai Lung scowled, "You know what? Screw you."

"I love you too, Schmoopie-kins," the panda retorted. "But seriously…maybe we should go up there sometime, before winter really sets in."

"No, absolutely not," Tai Lung refused, shivering a little. "I didn't like how it felt up there. It'll be for the best if we just do as Sun Bear says, follow his training and indulge his curiosity every so often. Once we know more about this temple and how to avoid the old bear, then we can do some more exploration. Until then, I don't fancy getting lost here—there are too many tunnels and halls to lose yourself in."

"So what, we just keep our heads down for now?"

"Not entirely," he replied. "When we have down-time, I want to explore the library a little more. It couldn't hurt either of us, I think."

"Good point," Po said. "There might be some cool kung fu secrets no one else knows about. Or, y'know, something like that…" He paused, then whispered in his friend's ear, "If the Phoenix Warrior and Dragon Warrior really knew each other, maybe there's something here about the Dragon Warrior's abilities, lost techniques and stuff like that."

Tai Lung nodded. "I hadn't thought of that, but that's a good idea."

"So that's the plan," Po said, pressing the heel of his palm into the small of his back until it popped. "We train, search for clues, and try to find the Phoenix Scroll so we can prove—once and for all—who you really are!"

Tai Lung rolled his eyes and sighed. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he said with a heavy exhale, "Fine…that all sounds good."

Po fell silent, staring hard at his friend before hitting the nail on the head: "You don't think you are the Phoenix Warrior, do you?"

"Panda, there's no proof. I need proof. I can't just take something on blind faith."

"Thanks for sucking the fun outta faith, buddy."

Tai Lung glared at him.

"I'm serious, you're way too defeatist," Po said with a shrug. "And Sun Bear was right. Not having faith isn't a really big flaw…but it does make things harder."

"And faith once lost is lost for good," Tai Lung said. "My master taught me that."

"No," Po said. "He taught you that his faith, once lost, is lost for good."

Tai Lung hesitated, then said, "…You know, that explains a lot."

"You're welcome."

Both visibly jumped when they heard a small yet sharp coughing just down the hall. Their interloper coughed again, then sneezed, sounding closer than before. Looking around the corner, they came face-to-face—or, rather, face-to-knee—with the little red panda novice. The child had to tilt his head all the way back to look straight up at Tai Lung, who stared back with mingled perplexity and nervousness. Just when he thought the red panda would run off to alert his superiors, the child hunched over and sneezed again.

"Aww, they sent you to bed early, huh?" Po asked him. The child looked up and nodded miserably, sniffing and wiping his nose on his forearm. Po leaned down and effortlessly picked him up. "Lets getcha to bed, okay? Whoa, he's really shivering!" the panda said with concern as the child visibly quaked in his arms.

"Here, give him to me," Tai Lung said, opening up his arms to the boy. "I've got thicker fur; he'll warm up faster."

Po obeyed and handed the red panda over; the child immediately curled up against Tai Lung's chest, shivering a little until the snow leopard wrapped his robes closer around them, and hugged the boy to his chest. "Which room is yours?"

The novice pointed down the hall; he was smiling now, happily cocooned in between thick snow leopard fur and equally thick wool robes. This contentment made it that much harder to disengage the child from Tai Lung's arms when they finally made it to the child's small cell. And Tai Lung got a trip down memory lane when he tried forcefully extracting the red panda novice from his person.

"Let go."

The child shook his head.

"Yes, right now."

He shook his head.

"Come on."

He shook his head harder.

"Let's go."

The child stuck his tongue out and gripped fistfuls of the snow leopard's fur.

Tai Lung growled lowly, "Oh come on, kid, while I'm young!"

Po had a hard time fighting back the laughter as he watched the snow leopard—once again—unsuccessfully attempting to remove a stubborn young child from his arm. The snow leopard pulled as hard as he dared on the cub's red robes, only to find that he was at the severe disadvantage, only because his coat was so thick and long, that it afforded the perfect place for small hands to grab hold.

"This is ridiculous!" he complained. "Chin Fu only just grew out of his 'Kitty' phase, and now this?"

Po lost the battle on holding in the laugh. "Well, Tenzin, you do kinda look like a stuffed animal."

"If the child were not here, Panda, you'd be bloody dead."

"So how many jiao is that?"

"How many jiao is what?"

"The B-word."

"What B-Word? Bastard?"

"Four jiao."

"Bitch?"

"Four fen."

"I'm not going to keep guessing if you're just going to keep adding to my tab, you know."

Po rolled his eyes and decided to ask the red panda. "How much does he owe for saying 'bloody'?"

Tai Lung stared, then laughed. "That's not a swear word!" He looked down when he felt the child poking his shoulder. "Yes?"

The novice held up four fingers, then pointed at Po, who smirked. "Four fen."

"All right, its bedtime," the snow leopard said shortly, finally yanking the cub off his arm and pushing him into his cell. Looking down at the child—who appeared to have been visibly hurt by the snow leopard's harsh rejection—Tai Lung groaned and looked at Po. "Why did I decide to become a father, again?"

"Because you love kids?" he offered.

"Or because kids love me…for some odd, ungodly reason…" Then he saw the tears forming in the novice's eyes. "Oh now, buck up—I said BUCK up, buck…" he said with a glare to Po, who countered with a quick "I didn't say anything."

Still sending a sideways glare at the monochromatic ursine, Tai Lung knelt in front of the novice. "Look, little monk, its not that I don't like you, I just don't like it when you grab my fur—it hurts, understand?"

The cub sniffed and nodded, still looking like he would cry.

"All right, none of that…big boys don't cry, all right? Are you a big boy?"

The cub started nodding, even as the tears brimmed in his big brown eyes.

Tai Lung groaned and slapped his hand to his forehead. "Look, you can't stay with me, all right? Master Sun Bear wouldn't like tha—son of a—!" he bit back the curse just as the child dashed forward and wrapped himself around Tai Lung's arm again. Chuckling mirthlessly at his predicament, the snow leopard growled and stood, the red panda dangling from the fur on his arm. "Fine, you know what? If Sun Bear's got such a big, stinking problem with it, he can take the kid off my arm himself. I'm done. Good night, everybody."

"Uh, Tai—Tenzin," Po corrected quickly. "You're just going to let the kid sleep with you?"

Tai Lung gave him a flat stare, then raised his arm to shoulder-height to showcase the small ring-tailed novice dangling there. "I don't think he's giving me many other options, is he?"

Someone's warm chuckle alerted them that they were no longer alone; the old lion from the day before had come up behind them, smiling benignly at the red panda clutching Tai Lung's arm like a lifeline. "Having trouble?"

"Kids," the snow leopard said, rolling his eyes. "For some reason, they stick to me like—"

"Like bees to honey?" the lion monk offered.

"…Alright, let's go with that."

The lion chuckled again, stepped forward and effortlessly extracted the child from the warrior's arm. "Come on, little one, you should have been in bed an hour ago." He turned to the two warriors and gave them a warning look. "I'd get to bed, too, if I were you. If Sun Bear catches both of you up this late, he may use it against you."

"How would he…?" Po began to ask.

"It's better not to think about it," the lion hushed. "He can be alarmingly creative. Hmm, that's curious," he said, pressing his palm against the red panda novice's forehead.

"What's curious?" Po asked.

"Strange…" the monk said with a faraway tone. "This little one was sent to bed early with a slight fever…I came after him to see if he made it back…" he looked at Tai Lung a moment, then shook his head with a slight smile. "Oh, it's probably nothing…must have been some sort of mistake. Anyway, have a good sleep, boys."

They took his cue and carried on down the hall to their own cells, looking back to see that the old lion was watching both of them very closely.

"Did the kid feel warm to you?" Po whispered.

"No, he was freezing cold," Tai Lung whispered back. He tapped a finger to the side of his head and remarked, "I think the thin air is more damaging than they're willing to admit."

As they crawled into their cells to sleep, Po asked in a hushed whisper, "What do you think he meant about Sun Bear being…"

"…Creative?" Tai Lung replied as he settled down on his pallet. "Gods know I don't want to find out the hard way."

---

The bells woke him earlier than he was expecting. But Po nonetheless sat up quickly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He ran for the door, but instead ran straight into a wall. Rubbing his smarting nose, he remembered that the cell had a low door, and that he was in a cell, not his room at the Jade Palace. He also recalled that his new alarm were bells, not a gong.

Rubbing his sore muzzle, he bent down to fold up his blanket, and found that he had two. Strange, he only remembered being given one. The tapping on his wall alerted him to get moving, and quickly. He dropped the blankets and hurried out, letting Tai Lung help him stand and rush to fall in line behind the monks. The same old lion from the night before instructed them to follow him; he led them down a different set of corridors, to an outside training ground.

Sun Bear was already there, balancing on one foot atop one of many tall posts, his palms pressed together in meditation. When he heard them coming, he opened his eyes and nodded to the lion. "Thank you, First Brother. You are dismissed. Gentlemen," he greeted the panda and snow leopard. "I trust you're rested."

"In a manner of speaking," Tai Lung griped, rubbing his sore neck and shoulders. The old master ignored him.

"Good. Today we work on balance." The bear pointed to the posts. "Get up on one, each. Your exercise today is to balance yourself on one post at a time. The goal is to stand on each post at least once."

Po and Tai Lung exchanged a glance and a sly smile. Simple, child's play! Shifu had trained them with this exact same exercise. This would be easy. But as soon as they hoisted themselves up on the posts, they wobbled. The posts were not completely anchored in the ground. Well, maybe this would be a little more difficult than they thought…

Sun Bear nodded and resumed his meditation, balancing on one leg and bringing his other foot up to press against his thigh. "Follow my lead…" he said, waiting for the pair to mirror him. "And begin."

Almost at once, Po fell, landing with a heavy thump. Sun Bear rolled his eyes and sighed through his nose. "Try again, Master Shang."

Po scrambled back up, red-faced and sore. Tai Lung was looking at him sympathetically, but he too found it hard to balance atop the unsteady perch. Po fell at least a dozen more times before noon, each time getting right back up on the post without Sun Bear ordering him to.

The sun beat down on them as the day progressed. Po felt dizzy and weak from dehydration, and even Tai Lung wasn't looking well. The snow leopard had his eyes shut tight and jaw clenched, focusing too much on not falling and keeping perfectly still. Sun Bear had started watching him intently, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Alright, get down, both of you. Take five."

They immediately obeyed, rubbing their legs and other sore spots while gulping down draught after draught of water from a provided pitcher. But Sun Bear wasn't done with them.

"Five minutes are up. Get back up onto the posts. This time, the other leg."

Po and Tai Lung bit back on tired sighs and resumed their posts, this time balancing on the opposite leg. Tai Lung pressed his foot against his thigh, as Sun Bear was doing, but Po found it more difficult just putting his foot against his knee. He trembled, and looked ready to fall.

Tai Lung had had enough, breaking out of his pose to grab the panda's extended knee and pull him upright. "Not on the knee!" he snapped. "You'll throw your balance off, and throw your knee out!"

"I can't get my leg any higher!" Po snapped back.

"Then put your foot on your calf, you silly bastard!"

"Four jiao," Sun Bear tallied. "And he has a point, Master Shang. If your balance is compromised the higher your leg goes, then lowering it is wise."

"But…"

"Or you can do it your way," the old master dismissively said. "Either way, it is your choice: to take the easy route, or the hard one."

Po thought about the advice, and made his decision. He took hold of his ankle and raised his foot above the knee, ignoring Tai Lung's frustrated groan. The panda immediately lost his footing and fell again, landing hard on his side. This time, it hurt like hell. It hurt to breathe. Though he couldn't see it, Sun Bear's expression turned grave, the master ordering the snow leopard to stay his ground.

"Let's see what path he takes," the master said.

Po immediately knew what had happened. Too many training exercises with Tigress had taught him the pain of broken ribs. He tried catching his breath, struggling to sit up, pushing hard on his arms to stand, but each bone and every muscle screamed in livid protest. He lifted his eyes to the post that Tai Lung was balancing on, the snow leopard finally finding his footing. Now the panda realized what the real problem was.

It was pride.

Every time he fell, his pride hurt worse and worse, every fall another bruise on his body and his ego. The only thing keeping him from giving up was sheer tenacity and his own desire to prove he was as good as, if not better than, Tai Lung. He was the Dragon Warrior, wasn't he? Shouldn't he be the better warrior? Besides that, he didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of Master Sun Bear; true, falling as many times as he had would have already proven his ineptitude, but he would have felt worse if he didn't at least try. He figured Sun Bear was already disappointed in his performance, but no more so than Po was at himself. And if he gave up now, Po would never be able to forgive himself.

He took in a deep breath, using the breathing exercises he learned a few days before, and finally picked himself up, pressing a hand against his side and gasping for air.

"Shang?"

Po looked up at Tai Lung's anxious expression, the look asking if he wanted any help. The panda narrowed his eyes and straightened his spine. Then he started to climb the post again. He struggled at first, the pain in his side spreading to his chest, but he finally made it up, balanced on one leg, and pressed his palms together as he clenched his teeth against the pain.

"Both of you, down!" the old master barked. "You have both failed today's test!"

The students stared at him in astonishment, chorusing, "Test?"

"Yes," he said, finally hopping off his post. He looked absolutely incensed. "And you have failed miserably. You are too focused on the physical, not the rational. Did you learn nothing the other day? You fools don't know your limitations, and you don't know when to quit. And in battle, that will get you killed. Get down off your posts. We're done."

"Don't know when to…" Tai Lung trailed off, then he growled, jumping off his post, somersaulting in midair, and landed directly in Sun Bear's path. He glared and accused, "Don't know when to quit? You wouldn't let us quit!"

"What makes you say that, Tenzin?" he coolly asked.

"You're our master!" the snow leopard said. "We are to obey you without question. We're not supposed to jump until you say so; we can't do anything without your permiss—"

"When did I ever say I was your master?"

Tai Lung's jaw dropped. So did Po's. And both warriors realized with despair that the old bear was absolutely right. He was a master, but he wasn't their master. And that meant they weren't completely obligated to obey him.

"Your problem, both of you," the bear continued, "Is exactly as I said when you arrived four days ago. You let others' opinions matter too much to you. That is what is holding you back. You," he pointed at the snow leopard, "refused yourself water to the point of collapse. And you," he turned to give the panda a look, "were too concerned with my and your comrade's opinion of you that you kept pushing yourself to the point of serious injury. And then you have the gall to keep going, to keep fighting with broken ribs? If you ever did that in battle—if either of you ever ignored your limitations or injuries—you would get yourselves killed. End of story."

Grabbing his bamboo staff and brushing past Tai Lung, the bear narrowed his eyes at the feline. "I knew you had a lot of pride, but I never expected you wouldn't be the only one," he said, sending Po a significant look before marching off.

Both warriors watched him go, the pair completely stunned. The minute Po lost his focus, he toppled again and fell. Fortunately, Tai Lung was there to break his fall…albeit unintentionally.

"Po," the snow leopard gasped from beneath the heavy bear. "I don't mean to be rude, but get off."

Po wheezed and rolled off his friend, who gasped for air, holding his side and feeling for cracked ribs of his own. The panda leaned his broad back against a pole and sucked down air as Tai Lung checked his wounded side. The feline let out a long, low whistle. "You really banged yourself up."

"How bad is it?" Po breathlessly asked with a grimace.

"There's some bruising," his friend sighed, touching his side. Pressing his fingers into the bruises, he felt around the panda's ribcage, and knitted his brows in confusion. "That senile old bear is full of it."

"What?" Po gasped.

"He was wrong about the broken ribs. If you had broken them, I'd be able to feel the fractures, and they're simply not there. Furthermore, you wouldn't be able to breathe right now. You are breathing, right?"

Po nodded, taking deep breaths and slowly finding, to his astonishment, that the pain was slowly fading away. "So, I'm not really hurt?"

"Not seriously. But as much as I hate to admit it, he had a point," he said, sitting back on his haunches. "Injuring yourself and continuing to fight? That's never smart."

"That's what you always do," the panda pointed out.

Tai Lung hissed in his ear, "I had Shifu for a teacher. Think about it."

"Point taken." Po shifted a little to find a more comfortable position, but nothing was helping to abate the pain in his side and chest.

"As tough as his idea of 'training' is," Tai Lung said. "I suppose Sun Bear isn't as bad as Shifu was…at least to me."

"I dunno about that," Po said, looking in the direction Sun Bear had taken. "I'm startin' to think this guy makes Shifu look like the Dalai Lama."

The cat said nothing to that, and helped the panda to stand, letting him lean heavily on him. "Come on, mate, let's get you bandaged up…" He looked up and spied the red panda novice watching them with intense curiosity. The child was apparently waiting for his own lesson on the posts, if the other novices in line behind him were a clue. Tai Lung looked back at his friend, then back at the children. "Can either of you get some bandages for him? He's hurt."

The red panda child nodded and scampered off. A few minutes later, he came back, little arms laden with bandages and some packets of dried herbs. The novices waited and watched as Tai Lung applied the bandages tightly around the panda; their teacher, an ox, told them that this "served as a learning experience", which humiliated the giant panda even further.

When he was done, the snow leopard accepted the herbs from the helpful child. "I suppose I just give these herbs to him, then?"

The red panda cub shook his head, pantomiming pouring something into a cup.

"Ah, I make tea?"

The child nodded.

"So what do we call you?"

The novice looked to his oxen teacher—Third Brother—who nodded. The boy knelt and drew the characters in the dirt: Little Brother.

"How about we call you Shorty?"

The red panda scowled stuck out his tongue at him, earning a chuckle, "Little Brother it is, then." Turning to Po, the snow leopard helped him stand. "Come on, panda, let's get you to the infirmary."

"We don't have an infirmary," Third Brother replied.

"So where do your sick and injured go?" Po asked.

"They go to their cells," the ox monk stated. "Cracked ribs require a lot of rest…" He added gloomily, "But I doubt you'll get it, if Master Sun Bear has anything to say about it."

---

Far to the northwest of the Phoenix Temple, another similar trainee wasn't getting much of a break, either. Lang had suffered a lot in his young life, from hunger, cold, and abuse in all forms, to fearing for his life on more occasions than he cared to count. Even with Asmodei Koshchei at his side, he felt no safer now than he had when he was still White Wolf's slave.

It didn't help that Zi Hao had gotten even crueler towards him. The black wolf had hit Lang once—in front of Koshchei—and Koshchei had nearly ripped his arm from its socket. So the prideful wolf had resorted to much more insidious means of torment. The usual insults were there: "omega", "dog", "puppy", and "half-bred mutt" were all there, but now the verbal torment had escalated to threats. "Good night, Lang," he said one night. "Sleep well. You'll probably be dead in the morning."

But Koshchei had overheard him that time. From that day forward, the leopard made sure that Lang stayed close to him at all times.

"His time vill come, as it does alvays," the leopard assassin told the young wolf in confidence as they sat by the moderately-sized campfire one night. The Half Dozen slept with their backs to the flames, curled up under their cloaks with their packs as pillows. Koshchei took his pipe out of the pocket in his tunic and reached for his pouch of tobacco. "Bully is only bully until bigger bully come around," he said.

"But I'm not a bully," Lang protested, glumly poking hot coals and cooling ashes with a stick. "And I'll never be bigger than him. I don't know what you see in me—I'll never be anything special."

"Ah, but you are, Lang, you are," the leopard consoled. "I haff gift, you see…I see things in people no one else see. You haff much strength in you, I see that. You think veak person let comments like that go? Veak person vould kill theyself by naow. Nyet, you are strong, malchik, much strong. Vords can hurt more than fists, this I know hand of first—"

"Firsthand," the wolf corrected.

"Whateva. Point old Koshchei try to make: all people haff strength. You haff strength…terrifying strength. I no vant to be the mudak ova there vhen you show your strength first time," the leopard said, pointing to Zi Hao's prone form.

Lang sighed, "If I ever do…"

"Nyet, listen, listen," the leopard whispered. "Firsthand I know," he said, using his new vocabulary word. "Is only so many time you kick dog before dog bite back. Dog vill not bark first—bite first, alvays."

"But that's the problem," Lang said. "Being called a dog is the worst insult in wolf society. It means you're pretty much…um…"

"You are 'someone's bitch', is saying, yes?"

Lang's ears pressed against his skull. "Yeah, exactly. A dog always has a master, and blindly follows him, even if that master doesn't care about him. Wolves pride themselves on independence. Yeah, we have pack leaders, but we roam free."

"So explain haow 'half-breed' is bad," the assassin said as he stuffed some tobacco into his pipe.

Lang gave him an aghast look. "How could you not know why that's bad?"

"Ach, I see all of time," Koshchei explained, taking a stray branch and sticking it into the fire to light it. He put the twig to the pipe's bowl and ignited the leaves before inhaling and puffing out a few clouds of blue-gray smoke. "Is many half-breed volf-dogs up north. You know funny thing? They are much stronger than pure-blood. You know last Han-King? Last, eh, vhat is vord…Emperor? He vas veak. Vhy? Too many generations marry first cousin; inbreeding, is called, inbreeding to keep 'royal blood royal'…and it is very bad. He vas so veak and sick, he vas easy to kill. I think I tell you, once, I no like 'easy'."

Lang started and looked at him, wide-eyed, and breathlessly asked, "You…you killed the emperor? The current emperor's father! You killed him?"

"Vas no loss," the leopard shrugged. "I also kill—"

"I know, I heard the stories," Lang interrupted. Everyone had heard those stories, and many were aghast that the last emperor's assassin had never been caught. It wasn't just the old ruler's death, but the deaths of all his royal sons—all possible heirs to his throne—that were found brutally murdered as well. Every single one of those sons had been born of the emperor and a princess in his harem. At the time, most thought that the assassin had a personal vendetta against the old ruler…but now that Lang thought about it, it seemed pretty clear that Koshchei's idea of "personal" was strikingly different from the average person's. "I thought it was political…"

"Vell, da et nyet…yes and no," he translated. "Political because I hate last king's policies. Personal because…eh, I like current emperor better. Know vhy?"

"I have I feeling I do…"

Koshchei smiled, but there was a slight cruelty there. "I murder all boys of royal birth. Current Emperor vas son of lesser concubine, concubine haff no royal blood at all. Current Emperor known for strength, yes? Trust me—hybrids and 'half-breeds' much stronger and less sickly-types than pure breeds."

Lang squirmed and inched away from the leopard, yet only slightly out of his reach. "If I can be honest…I think you're nuts. Certifiably fucking insane."

Koshchei grinned. "Vhat I tell you? You much smart. But point," he said, puffing at the pipe, "is Zi Hao is wrong about you, Lang. Vait for it, not long naow…he vill kick you for last time, and you vill make him see this."

Sure enough, Lang got his opportunity the very next day. He thought about what Koshchei had told him: that the leopard had also been the runt of the litter, and how, despite this, he had become the single most feared assassin in Asia. He thought of…how had he worded it?

A dog can only be kicked so many times before it bites back.

And truth be told, Lang was getting really tired of it. He had also slept poorly the night before, so he was a bit more irritated than usual. They were passing very close to the Gansu-Shaanxi border when Zi Hao decided to unleash his usual torrent of abuses. Lang fought to control his breathing and clenched his teeth and fists. He was long past wanting to cry for every little taunt. Now, he was just…angry. Why did Hao hate him so damn much? Why did he single him out? What did Lang ever do to him?

Lang suddenly stopped short, resulting in Hao accidentally bumping into him. The black wolf smirked and laughed, "Aww…is the little puppy going to whine and cry? C'mon, dog, let's see how cute you look with those little puppy—"

"Hao, shut the fuck up."

The entire party ground to a halt. Koshchei only paused in his step, his ears flicking back to listen to what would happen next. The black wolf stopped short, his spade-like ears twitching, then he growled low in his throat and demanded, "What did you say to me?"

Lang turned and glared up at Hao. "I said, 'Shut the fuck up'. I'm sick of you running your mouth. You talk a lot of shit, and I'm not going to tolerate it anymore."

Zi Hao only laughed in his face and pushed the smaller wolf back. Lang stumbled back a couple steps, but caught himself just as the black wolf grabbed him by the scruff of his neck. "Well look who suddenly grew a backbone," he sneered. "What're you going to do now, twerp? You going to fight me?"

"No," Lang said with a smile. "I'm bigger than that. I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity that I don't need to prove it by beating you up. Maybe that's why you like fighting so much…who are you trying to convince, Hao?"

"Why you little piece of—"

Two things happened at once. Zi Hao made a move to punch Lang right on the snout…but Lang, smaller and less bulky than the black wolf, proved faster, and grabbed hold of the thick fold of fat on the bigger wolf's scruff and yanked down hard. His balance compromised by his lunging forward into the punch, Hao fell to his knees, and Lang made his second move. The small wolf grabbed a fistful of the black wolf's fur and yanked his head back, twisting the fur hard enough to make the bigger wolf wince.

"I am going to say this once," Lang growled, "And only once. You fuck with me again, and I'll smash in your dog-face. Got it?"

"You fucking spineless little—"

Zi Hao did not get the opportunity to finish. Lang took advantage of a nearby pine tree, and, gripping harder at the fur on the back of Hao's head, slammed the other wolf's face right into the tree's trunk. The other wolves winced for Zi Hao as pine needles fell from the highest branches as the wolf's head made contact. Lang, snarling like one of his savage ancestors, gripped the other wolf's fur tightly and slammed his head into the tree three more times.

Koshchei watched the affair with passive calm, arms crossed over his chest as he gave a critical eye to Lang's assault. The other wolves—even the wrathful Bao Nu—recoiled in shock and downright disgust to hear the squishing of flesh and cracking bones slamming against a hard surface, and all squirmed to see blood and teeth flying from the black wolf's face.

Lang finally threw Hao aside like a dirty rag and left the bully lying there on the ground. Hao's face was caked with blood and pine sap, the fur and skin cut up from the rough pine bark. His snout was clearly broken, judging by the sudden crooked look it had taken, and the outpouring of blood from his shorn-up nostrils. He was by no means a weakling, and had taken beatings before, but this time, Hao lay prone on the pine-needle-covered forest floor, coughing to expel the blood seeping into his mouth; he rolled to his side, holding his head and struggling to breathe.

"How's it feel, Hao?" Lang asked, his tone quiet, yet cold. "How much do you like it?" Then Lang turned his attention to the other wolves, and barked, "Anyone else?"

None of them dared to look at each other; they all shook their heads. Lang snorted, closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then turned on his heel and continued down the path. As he passed Koshchei, the young wolf remarked, "Ready when you are."

Koshchei only smiled proudly, and turned to follow the youth. "Me? I am alvays ready."

---

"I'll beat his sorry little carcass into the ground, the little half-bred bastard!"

"You should really stop talking right now," Yu Wang said as he patched up the black wolf. "You'll tear open the wounds at this rate."

"Let him—you know the saying," Lan Duo said. "You can only kick a dog so many times before it bites back…and Lang just bit back." The apathetic wolf stared back as the black wolf glared at him. "Don't give me that look; you know you had it coming."

"Like you never bullied the kid," Bao Nu snorted, tearing into his meal as they sat around their own campfire. Lang and Koshchei were a few yards away, sharing a modest fire and an equally modest meal. Bao Nu, the biggest of the Half Dozen, spit into the flames and looked back at Duo. "You intimidated him, too."

"Not as much as you jokers did," Duo said. "I only told him to stay the hell out of my way, and he did. He's not that smart, but he's smart enough to stay away from me. The rest of you went out of your way to make his life hell. How do you know you're not next?"

Bao Nu laughed, "Yeah, right! That little skinny-armed twerp up against me?" To demonstrate his point, he flexed his arm muscles, pointing to the rather intimidating biceps. "I'd pummel him into his own grave! Face it, Duo, you just don't bother—"

"I don't bother because I like having my head where it is." Duo glanced around the fire at the other wolves and started to sharpen his weapon with a whetting stone. "I didn't last this long going out looking for trouble. Spend all your energy picking fights, you don't have the energy when the fight picks you. Self-preservation, that's my motto."

Tan Lan glanced over his shoulder at Koshchei. "So what now? The kid's growing a backbone, and the old man's got some plan up his sleeve…and I don't like it. We've been with him for a week, and still no pay."

"That all you care about, money?" Xiu Jiu asked as he ravaged his meal. "There's more important stuff."

"Like what, stuffing your face every chance you get?" the tan wolf sneered.

"Enough!" Zi Hao snapped. Shaking off the taller and thinner Yu Wang, the black wolf crouched closer to the fire, rubbing his arms to warm himself against the chill in the autumn air. "The omega will not get away with this; I won't tolerate it."

"Too bad," Duo said, "You don't have a say anymore." Testing his pudao's edge with his thumb, the grey wolf said, "Until recently, you were our unofficial Alpha. Our unofficial Omega just kicked your sorry tail and you got the scars to prove it. By lupine traditions—"

Zi Hao's face visibly paled and he snapped, "Don't you dare—"

Duo ignored him. "—That means Lang is our new Alpha."

Silence fell heavily across the sextet, each wolf looking to his comrades for comment. Not a single one of them said anything. Tradition was tradition, and any who backed out or circumvented traditions as holy as those held by the wolves were as good as banished…or dead. And Zi Hao knew the gravity of what had happened.

"Easy, wolf," Duo said. "There are ways to make this better."

"You'd better have a good idea," Hao glared.

"Aren't you a little low on the pecking order now to be mouthing off like that?" Tan Lan reminded him. "Duo's right; far as I'm concerned—as far was we are concerned—you're an omega now."

The other wolves nodded in agreement.

Zi Hao stared in amazement at the group. "So now what?" he asked.

"What do you think?" Duo asked, standing and pocketing his whetting stone. "Time to kiss some ass." Dumbfounded, they watched as the grey bandit closed the distance between the two fires and boldly stood opposite the leopard and former omega wolf. "There room here?"

Lang and Koshchei shared a look. Koshchei sent another look back at Duo, then shrugged at Lang as if to say "it's your decision". Lang warily looked at Duo, then gave a little shrug of his own. "Sure, have a seat."

Lan Duo sat next to Koshchei, daringly close, and the leopard noticed it too. The wolf warmed his hands by the fire, not looking in the other assassin's direction. Not wasting any time at all, the wolf got straight to the point: "I want to teach Lang how to fight with pole arms."

"Vhat?" asked Koshchei, who was genuinely caught off-guard.

"What?" asked Lang, who was just as surprised as the leopard.

Duo glanced between the younger wolf and the older leopard and repeated, "I want to teach him pole-arm fighting techniques. I'm asking your permission. You promised us pay if we work for you, that makes you our boss, so I'm asking my boss's permission to train the newbie."

"Vhy you teach him?" the leopard asked, not bothering to hide his suspicion.

"Because in the off chance the kid has to fight the Dragon Warrior, Tai Lung, or one of the Furious Five, he'll want to be as far away from them as physically possible. And let's face it," he said with a sardonic smile, "he's not much for hand-to-hand combat, especially if paired against someone like Master Tigress."

Koshchei quickly appraised Lang's slight build, then nodded, almost apologetically to Lang, before answering, "This I vill grant you as true."

"So I can train him?"

The leopard sat very still for a very demoralizing moment. Duo swore the leopard would say no…but much to his surprise, the assassin seemed rather warm to the idea, and indeed, looked to be considering his other options. Lang, meanwhile, appeared to be in as deep thought as his new mentor. Duo had to hide his satisfaction. He snapped back to attention when Koshchei cleared his throat.

"You haff my permission, volf. You tread carefully, or next step vill be last."

"I wouldn't have it any other way. Kid," Duo said to Lang, "We start your training first thing tomorrow. Don't think I'll go easy on you. I'm not your mama, and I'm not gonna hold your hand—"

Lang glared at him. "I don't expect you to, and I don't want you to."

"Good, glad we're on the same page."

"So you're just teaching me out of the goodness of your own heart?" Lang asked suspiciously. "Just like that? I thought it would be, 'like, work and effort'."

"I have my reasons," Duo said, not tearing his gaze away from the youth's. "I'm not doing this for free. Consider this a favor you need to pay back later."

"Then forget it," Lang snapped. "I'm through with being indebted to someone—"

Duo chuckled, "Shit, kid, I'm not asking for your firstborn child, here. Biggest favor I'm ever going to ask is you killing a kung fu master—can be any one of 'em."

"Is tall order, as they say," Koshchei mused, clenching his teeth around his pipe's mouthpiece. "Take many a year for him to learn enough to take on Furious Five."

"Didn't say he needed to take on the Five; any kung fu master would do. I count that as the 'final exam'. I think you can appreciate that," he said with a nod to the leopard. "Way I hear it, you had a similar system."

"This is true." The Amur leopard exhaled a long, low puff of smoke and stared hard at the lupine assassin. "Nothink is to happen to Lang. Anything happen to him, I vill kill you, skin you, and hang your carcass for vultures. If you are very lucky…I vill do in that order."

Despite his otherwise cool composure, even Duo swallowed hard at this proposal…because he knew that it wasn't a threat, it was a promise. "Gotcha."

What he didn't tell them—and in fact, what he neglected to tell his fellow wolves—was that he had a very good reason for training Lang in his favored fighting techniques. True, he didn't want to have to babysit the kid once battle came, for it would, inevitably. But he had other reasons. Political reasons, one could say. Seeing Lang beat the tar out of the lupine tyrant had immediately set the gears turning in Duo's head, and a plan had emerged like a lotus from the muck of a riverbed.

Duo had been of the mind for self-preservation since infancy. That was just the way it was, kill or be killed. Cutthroat, maybe, but he'd survived his three decades of life by being smarter than the average criminal, and that meant never getting caught. Like Tan Lan and Yu Wang, and unlike Zi Hao, Bao Nu, and especially Xu Jiu, Duo knew how to keep his head down, and, as he'd told Lang, how to keep his mouth shut. Sometimes inaction was just as important as action, and the less said, the less trouble.

And frankly, as much as he hated to admit it (and he really hated to admit it)…he just felt sorry for the kid. Duo had an inkling of what that was like; he too was smaller than the average wolf, but what he lacked in brute force, he made up for with speed and dexterity…which was exactly what he saw in Lang's attack on Hao. The kid may not have had much in the way of strength or finesse, but damn it, the kid was fast. Duo didn't even know what had happened until it was practically over, and that was actually pretty impressive. Now he chided himself for not seeing the younger wolf's potential, for it was there, and all Lang needed as a little confidence.

He also wanted to see what else Lang was capable of. They had all severely misjudged him. The small wolf was an easy target and an even easier victim, and it seemed accepted fact that he would either do something to get himself killed, or just do it himself to escape the pain; the sad thing was not a single one of them would have missed him.

But now Duo was watching Lang very carefully, and his well-trained eye picked up many surprising things. Things he should have picked up as soon as he met the twerp. He was slight, but he was fast. Not too smart, but smart enough, and had potential to learn much more. A little scrawny, but what boy his age wasn't? More importantly, there was something in the young wolf's eyes, something Duo couldn't quite place. There was pain and sadness there, of course, and Duo also recognized the spark of indignation that had finally ignited into a flame that had viciously burned his abuser. But there was something…a light there…that Duo would have known if he'd had the privilege of a more positive upbringing: Innocence. Honest-to-gods innocence. It was no wonder Lang was mistaken for someone much younger than he actually was; that wide-eyed purity constantly on his visage made him look like a puppy for hell's sake.

And for some odd reason, Duo felt guilty for planning to take that from him.

Lang, however, was looking at Lan Duo—and the other wolves—more carefully than he had before, when they had been his masters and tormentors. His eyes were not as well-trained as the assassin that sat across from him, but he could tell from the oppressive stillness in the air around them that something had…shifted. Something was…different about the way they looked at him. He was more surprised that they were actually looking at him now; before, they just ignored him. But he caught the glances they sent over their shoulders, and knew whenever they whispered that it was about him. The glares on his back he knew by instinct came from Zi Hao…but like the other wolves, Lang had no idea why the black wolf hated him so much.

The other wolves now watched him much more carefully that before. Yu Wang—normally unflappable—cautiously kept his distance now, while Xu Jiu and Tan Lan seemed genuinely interested in what had changed. Lang knew what had changed: he was sick of being bullied. No one else was going to stick up for him but himself, and honestly, he hated himself for being so blind to that revelation for so long.

He waited until Duo had faked a yawn and excused himself to sleep. Lang noticed Koshchei was watching the retreating wolf with as much interest as he was himself. The Amur leopard exhaled his pipe smoke and whispered to Lang without turning his head, "Vhat are you thinking?"

Lang chanced a glance back at the other wolves, half of whom had already settled down for the night. But his gaze lingered on Duo's back. "I'm thinking I don't trust him."

"Good." Koshchei turned over his pipe and dumped the burnt tobacco leaves into the fire, tapping the bowl on a rock to expel the last of it. "I may not fear them, myself, but they are not men to cross, yes? You haff much potential, Lang," he said, clapping a heavy paw onto the boy's thin shoulder, "But potential not yet reached. Vait until time is ready, then strike."

"How do I know if it'll be the right time?"

Koshchei fell silent, visibly looking for the right way to word his response. When he came to it, he lowered his voice again, and explained, "Is much different the vay volfs hunt and cats hunt. Volfs find sickly prey and chase until prey is veak and tired. Cats—like me—carefully choose first target, first by vatching, then vaiting, then striking vhen prey least expect. No matter vhat target, they vill alvays let their guard down…alvays. You know vay volfs hunt…so old Koshchei suggest, you hunt like cat."

Lang nodded, and immediately started thinking about this advice. It made sense. He was never the fastest, nor the strongest, but he had taken Zi Hao by surprise; so in a way, he had acted like a cat. "So I wait until Duo's taught me what he knows?"

"Use your veakness as strength."

"What does that mean?"

Koshchei smirked at him, then sent him a conspiring wink. "You know as vell I do."

---

THWACK.

"Keep your arms up—UP!"

THWACK.

"Good. Now don't lock your arms—a hard enough hit and you'll break your elbows. Keep the joints loose."

Lang blocked the downward blow with the length of his staff, feeling his arms trembling when Duo's staff slammed down onto his.

THWACK.

"Good." The grey wolf assassin nodded once, then slowly backed up, "Much better."

Lang dropped his staff and shook his arms. "Is there any way to keep my arms from hurting?"

"Yeah," Duo said. "Do a few push-ups. Build some muscle there. Let's try this again. Pick up your staff. Now I'm going to come at you from a three-sixty heel-step turn overhead twirl on a five-degree angle crossing over into a forty-five degree frontal downward strike—"

"Okay, what the hell does that mean?"

"I'm going to do a pirouette like a pretty-pretty-princess and whack you upside the head."

"Oh. Well why didn't you just say that?"

Koshchei buried his face in one of his paws. This was not going as well as he'd hoped. Lang still showed promise, and plenty of it, but he was not as skilled as some of the men the leopard had trained himself. He hadn't had such trouble training "newbies" (his new Mandarin vocabulary word) in Jiao Shen's army. Lang was proving—almost painfully—that he was definitely a farm boy. Even Bao Nu, who was standing next to the leopard (well, as close as he dared to), had to agree.

Bao Nu was the largest and most physically imposing of the sextet, the muscle of the group. His body was covered in thick muscles, stretched and toned to an almost alarming peak. This served his purpose as a bandit; most of his victims didn't even bother putting up a fight when they saw him, and it bored him far too easily. He was like the leopard in that he preferred a challenge; challenge in any form was both intriguing and intoxicating, which was why he had stayed behind to watch Lang's "training"—if it could be called that—while the others scouted on ahead.

Bao Nu winced when one of Duo's strikes landed hard on Lang's body. "Oof, this is just painful to watch…"

"Please do not be reminding me," Koshchei muttered. The leopard sighed and watched more, shaking his head. "I vas hoping he vould haff more experience, vit vay he go after black volf back there."

"You and me both," Bao Nu admitted. "Kid had some hard-core strength…and I gotta admit, he had some pretty big cojones to go to the inn looking for you."

"Vhat is this vord, 'cojones'?"

"He's gotta big pair of…well, y'know."

"Ah."

"Yeah, exactly." They watched more of Lang's training—again, if it could have been called that—in silence, until the massive wolf said, "I've done my fair share of killing, but I started as a highwayman, and mostly sleight of hand tricks to steal when I didn't have other choices."

"You pick up tricks vhen little pup, yes?" Koshchei asked. "Most bandits I know start as pickpockets."

"Yeah…" Bao Nu said. "Yeah, that's how I started." He paused, then furrowed his brows, and hesitated a moment before postulating, "Y'know, now that I think about it…maybe that's what he'd be perfect for."

"I vant him in business of killing, not stealing," the Amur leopard reminded him. "Stealing von't do much good in my plans."

"I disagree," Nu said with a straight face; he hardly ever smiled, unlike Tan Lan and Yu Wang. Whenever they smiled, it never led to anything good. And Bao Nu may not have been the smartest of the Half Dozen—that honor went to Lan Duo—Nu more than made up for this disability by living up to his wrathful name with a swifter temper than even Zi Hao's. "See, what Lang lacks may be to his strength…he's got this doe-eyed innocence thing going on, right?"

Koshchei's blue-green eyes brightened, and he grinned, "Da, I see vhat you are saying. He looks innocent, and people vill take him at his vord."

"Exactly, no one would ever see it coming."

"You vould teach him, then? Is that vhat you are offering?"

Bao Nu shrugged, "I could, and maybe I am. Just…under one condition," he lowered his voice and whispered into the leopard's ear, "I don't want the others knowing about it. I'm on shaky enough ground with Hao; I don't want him pissed at me."

"I thought it vas decided he is omega naow?"

"It was…but he's too stubborn to admit defeat, yet."

"Is good point. Very vell—your condition is good one. I vill extend offer to malchik for you; is good, yes?"

"I'd appreciate it. Thanks." He winced again and sighed when he heard Lang's anguished cry. "Ugh, I can't watch this anymore. Let me know if he actually lives…"

Koshchei stayed silence, but it was unclear if he was aware of Nu's retreat, or just ignoring him. The leopard had started glaring at Lan Duo, recalling their agreement. It seemed…odd to the Amur leopard. Jiao Shen had had wolves in his army, and Koshchei was used to working with them. But these wolves he had "acquired" recently behaved quite differently than the ones he was used to working with. Under Jiao's control, they never schemed or plotted, which, instinct told him, was exactly what these beasts were doing now.

Like Lang, Koshchei initially had extreme suspicion about Lan Duo's motives, and now that Bao Nu had extended an offer, the spotted feline's misgivings were cemented like a gouged message on a tomb wall. These wolves were planning a coup. If they thought they could teach Lang to fight, while the young wolf had gained the leopard's trust, and thus use that trust to betray him, then Koshchei considered them very sloppy schemers. This had happened once before, and at the time, Koshchei had only gotten out by…damn, what was the term? Skin of the teeth, yes…what a strange saying, he mused. Either way, he had only barely survived that attempt on his life, and learned to never trust anyone.

Under Jiao, the best way to stay alive was to do as you were told and not stick your neck out for anyone. Wolves, in his experience, rarely helped each other except on the hunt. True, Koshchei wanted Lang to have a rudimentary knowledge of self-defense, but he had expected to train him himself. Not that he would look…look… Look a gift horse in the mouth, yes, that's the term…these people have very strange sayings… Duo's offer was a sound one, and actually worked in Koshchei's favor, now that he thought about it.

A cold smile slowly grew on his lips. Perfect. Yes, let the wolves all teach Lang something. He would learn to fight. Koshchei, in turn, would learn all their weaknesses, the fools. Things were about to get very interesting.

---

It was a boom town, built right up onto the walls of the Guizhou canal, and the ideal place for one to make a fortune, or to lose it. People of all backgrounds and origins flocked to places like these, cities and towns built up along the banks of the longest-running canal in the empire, but more often than not it was those of less esteem that came to places like these. Certainly each city had its ritzy areas catering to those born with silver spoons in their mouths, but each city also had areas that turned those silver spoons into silver daggers.

It was in one of these neighborhoods that found a bull out on the town, weaving his way through narrow alleys and squeezing between buildings and throngs of people. Though the air had turned from a heady warmth to a brisk chill in under a week, the mass of bodies kept the quickly-approaching winter chill away from the streets. Passing through one alley and into the main boulevard, the bull walked straight into a din and clamor of bells, drums and whistles. The curfew was beginning soon, and the more moral and honest folk were returning to the sanctuary of their homes, whilst less scrupulous characters—such as himself—were on their way to work.

He passed under an arch whose red paint was peeling away from years of neglect and decay, and he immediately entered into a place reserved only for the wealthy—both old and new—at this time of night. Women sat in window seats and called out to possible patrons as they draped red silks over paper lanterns. The men on the streets slowed their steps every so often to stare, and while many continued on their way, a few broke from the crowd to approach the brothels…or sometimes the women who stood at every corner.

The bull continued on, ignoring the calls and promises of a good time, only halting his step as he came to the entrance of a nondescript building, beaten and weathered with age. The guard at the door let him in without question, and he quickly turned left, jarring open the wall paneling to reveal a set of stairs leading to the upper floors. He closed the hidden entrance tightly behind him, then clopped up the creaky steps, shoving open the door to the annex…

Then he saw red—literally—when he found the room still festooned in decorations from the last festival, and his men and their hired women dressed in red robes as if still celebrating. His men sat around the table in the center of the room, placing bets on their mahjong game and cavorting with the three women they had brought in with them. All three women were clad in revealing red dresses, little more than identical red dressing-gowns, hanging loose around their necks to display bare shoulders, and the robes falling open all the way up to their shapely thighs.

The bull was intrigued; women in this town were most certainly not this good-looking, which meant these females had to be new. One young female sat on one outlaw's lap, her sheer shawl wrapped playfully around his neck, and her cheek demurely resting against his. Her friend, who had a lovely elegance about her and sharp, inquisitive eyes, shared two of the men between her, her graceful hands slowly roving over their bodies as if trying to decide which one to serve first. The last female had hoisted herself up onto the table, but was now looking over her shoulder at the bull as he had entered. One by one, the bull's three underlings fell silent, having caught the enraged look on their employer's face.

"What the hell is this?" he demanded.

The woman perched on the table, a female snow leopard with the most expressive green eyes he had ever seen, pushed herself off the table and approached him. "Don't get mad at them," she said, her voice deep and sultry like a continuous purr. "This is our first time in this big, bad city, and we lost our way. Your friends were just helping us poor country girls."

"That so?" he asked, finding it hard to ignore the female's expressive deep green eyes set like twin emeralds into a delicate, perfectly sculpted face, and a plan immediately entered his mind for these girls. "So're you ladies looking for a job?"

As if reading his mind, the snow leopardess smiled coyly and lowered her eyes, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. When she finally looked back up at him, she smirked: "You are the job."

Before the bull could react, the green-eyed female grabbed both sides of his head and twisted sharply. His neck snapped before he could let out a sound.

The blue-eyed female tightened her grip on her shawl and ruthlessly tugged in opposite directions. Her target gargled and grabbed for the scarf that had closed off his windpipe, but it took little time for him to cease his struggling enough that she, too, could snap his neck.

The red-eyed female slipped a dagger down from her sleeve and ran it across one man's neck, dodging the spurting blood as she stuck a similar blade from her other sleeve into the other man's jugular. Both men shook violently in the throes of death until they both slumped down into their seats, heads rolling to the side, dead. She checked for a pulse on the one she had stabbed, then nodded in affirmation. "All right, grab it."

Wu Zhu immediately grabbed the gold and paper money left on the game table, shoving it into a bag. Wu Jiang shifted through the dead men's clothes for extra valuables, and snorted when she pulled some papers out of the bull's robe. "False documents—he was trafficking, alright."

"Fine, just hurry up, we have that rendezvous in ten minutes!" Tian hissed. She grabbed their discarded cloaks and threw one to each of her sisters before striding to the window. She pulled a rope and grappling hook from under her dress hem and wedged the hook in the house's eave. Zhu was the first out the window, sliding effortlessly down the rope and landing quietly onto the alley below. Jiang followed soon after, and Tian closely tailed her after taking one last look at the room. Once safely on the ground, she tugged sharply at the hook and deftly caught it just as it came falling down to earth. She coiled it as they ran down the alley, muffling the sounds of clinking coins and footfalls as they ran out into the street, and lost themselves in the crowd heading straight toward the canal.

It would be another hour before the guards would find their employer and the three others dead in the secret annex.

Completely bypassing the inns and taverns on the waterfront, the three females snuck around the side of a dilapidated building and down a set of water-logged steps towards a waiting pleasure boat. There was only one guard, a male lynx, who made no sign of acknowledgment except by letting them inside the covered gondola, and firmly shut the door behind them.

Now that they were safe from prying eyes, Wu Jiang pulled up the collar of the stolen dress robe to cover up her chest. "Ugh, I hate doing jobs like these. Its objectifying, and completely takes advantage of women."

"The hell it does," Wu Zhu said, admiring her figure in a nearby mirror. "If anything, it takes advantage of men who are dumb enough to keep falling for that trick!"

"It has nothing to do with intelligence," Wu Tian said, taking a cue from her sister and fixing her robe so that all necessary parts were covered. "All men are the same. We can hardly be blamed for taking advantage of that."

"After this, can we go find some furnace somewhere?" Jiang asked. "I want to burn this damn thing the first chance I get."

"What's wrong with that dress?" Zhu asked. "Don't you like to feel pretty once in a while?"

"Zhu-Zhu, this thing has ruffles."

"So? I like ruffles!"

"You do. For me, it's too frou-frou. If I wear a dress, it's gotta have a little slink."

Zhu huffed and dug her fists into her thin hips. "If you wanted a slinky dress, I could have gotten you a slinky dress. Tian would've given me money for a slinky dress."

"Girls, focus," the eldest Wu said. "We only have a few minutes here, lets make it count." She settled down on the cushions around the perimeter and waited for their rendezvous to arrive. The trio didn't have to wait long when the door to the gondola opened and admitted their most recent superior.

"Hey, Boss," Jiang greeted, "How was the trip?"

"Awful as always," the cloaked figure said, settling down across from them. "Did you get the job done?"

Tian held up the fake documents taken off the bull and handed them over. "As promised."

The stranger pocketed the papers without looking at them. "Good. Keep the money, you'll need it. I'm sending you three on another mission."

"Jeez, one right after the other…" Zhu said, sounding rather annoyed.

"If you have a problem with what I pay you," their boss said shortly, "I can take my business elsewhere."

"Don't mind them," Tian said softly, pleasingly. "The authorities have been riding us pretty close the past few days; we're understandably a bit nervous."

"Don't worry about the authorities," their boss said, "they're the least of your concern. There's someone I want taken out of the picture, someone who threatens my position, and my superior's position. I don't care how you do it, I want it done, and done soon."

"What's our deadline?" Jiang asked.

"Winter solstice," the hooded figure said, drawing a folded piece of cloth from inside the cloak. The white cloth was stained with what looked like berry juice to draw a rudimentary map, and a single name:

"Zang Deshi!" Zhu gasped.

"Wait," Jiang said. "That guy from the pass? That Zang Deshi?"

Tian's interest had skyrocketed. "All right, you have our attention…but I hope you know what you're asking for."

"I know exactly what I'm asking for," their manager said. "He's been nothing but trouble for well over a year, and is dangerous to my cause. Do what you want with him. Poison him, stab him, smash in his skull, I don't care how you kill the bastard, but do it, and do it within six weeks."

"Might be a little tricky," Jiang said to her sisters, "what with him and his goons being in the Valley of Peace right now; I don't fancy taking on the Furious Five."

"We'll have to draw him out," Zhu said. "Take the danger of the Five interfering out of the equation."

"The Five weren't in the equation to begin with," their boss said. "I just want Zang taken out, by whatever means necessary. However, I'm going to give you a little something extra for your trouble."

Tian glared at the hooded figure after another bag of gold had been handed to her. "What do you know that we don't?"

The cloaked stranger sighed heavily and brought a gloved hand up beneath the hood, likely to rub the inside corners of unseen eyes. "I have reliable intelligence suggesting Asmodei Koshchei has returned to China."

Tian felt her mouth dry out in horror, and she gasped, "Him? How is he still alive?"

"I don't know," her boss replied. "What I do know is that he's not someone you can take on right now. He's coming south, through Gansu, and I want you nowhere near him. I've got my own men on his tail. He's got seven working for him right now, all wolves."

"That won't last long," Jiang snorted. "Not with his track record."

"But why would he return?" Zhu wondered, looking pale and fretful. "He's gotta know how much of a bounty is on his head; he's a fool for coming back!"

"It's because he knows no one will directly try to kill him," Tian said. "No one in their right mind, anyway. If Jiao Shen couldn't kill him, there probably isn't a soul living that can do that."

"What about the Dragon Warrior?" Zhu asked. "He was able to defeat Tai Lung, and then Jiao Shen a year later. If anyone's strong enough to defeat Koshchei, it's gotta be him."

"Either way," their boss coughed, getting them back on-topic, "I don't want you concerning yourselves with Koshchei. If he gets close to where you'll be, I'll send word to you to get the hell out of there. Believe it or not, I care too much about you ladies to let anything happen to you."

"Aww, that's awful sweet of you," Zhu warmly smiled.

Her boss quickly evaporated any goodwill by saying: "You have all my money, and if I lose you, I lose that."

Zhu wrinkled her nose and frowned. "Well, screw you, too, Boss."

Tian shook her head and pocketed the stained cloth. "We'll take on the job. Anything else we should know?"

"Yes. Be careful not to target any of Zang's men. I only want Zang. The other men aren't important."

"They'll blindly follow him," Tian pointed out. "So I consider that pretty important."

"And if they blindly follow him," the stranger said, "that makes them doubly dangerous. Anyone who follows orders without question isn't just a puppet—they're a weapon. I can't stress this enough: be careful."

The guard outside knocked twice at the door; the shadowy boss drew the cloak closer and whispered, "I have to go. Head back to Hunan, wait for Zang there. Don't go any further north than Hubei, understand? Check in at the Xiao Tou Inn every so often; I'll have correspondence there for you. Remember, you have until Winter Solstice to get the job done."

"Any other instructions?" Tian asked.

The figure had risen and now stooped by the door, the gloved hand on the doorknob. "Play it by ear, and trust your instincts; in the meantime, gods-speed, ladies, and good luck." With a slight tug, their boss opened the door and slipped out into the night.

---

As predicted, Sun Bear didn't let up on their training. The next morning, he taught them more yoga, a combination he called "Sun Salutations", which stretched—and stressed—their bodies even further. No amount of painkillers could dull the agony Po felt, but he bore the pain in silence. Complaining about something he couldn't change wouldn't do him any good. Tai Lung took it all in stride, finding the exercise was coming much easier as time went on.

After their practice, they were dismissed for midday meditation, and afterwards, they returned to the posts. And so it went for the next week: mornings of yoga and meditation, and afternoons of balance and other forms of strength training. The whole time, Sun Bear's eyes never left them, the old bear scrutinizing every bit of them.

"Shang," he barked one morning as the panda and snow leopard approached. Po tried not to look completely shell-shocked as he bowed to the old bear. Sun Bear narrowed his eyes at the panda and glared, hands in his sleeves as he studied the other ursine. The silence was tense and terrible, and making Po break out into a cold sweat. He was waiting for it, waiting for the terrible moment when—

"How are your ribs this morning?"

"B'wuh?"

"Your cracked ribs," Sun Bear said with strained patience. "How are they?"

"Wha—oh, oh yeah, I did hurt my ribs, didn't I?" Po said.

The panda grew uncomfortable with the look in the old bear's eyes. The astonished stare soon turned into a glower and a growl.

"You dare mock me!" the old master snapped. "It was only seven days ago you gave yourself a serious injury, one that requires weeks of treatment and rest, and you mock me by continuing your practice—"

"But it doesn't hurt," Po defended. "They haven't hurt since that first day on those pole thingies."

"Do not insult me, Shang!" he glared, taking out his staff, brandishing it threateningly. He stormed forward and yanked on the panda's robe, exposing his side, then quickly jabbed his fingers into his ribs…and froze when Po squirmed and laughed. Po had never seen the old master's eyes that wide before.

Sun Bear collected himself, moving his hand over the panda's side, pressing here and there against the rib cage. As much as Po fought it, he sputtered out laughing, "Stop! C'mon, man, stop it! That tickles!"

Sun Bear stared at him in astonishment, then asked with a stunned tone, "Where…where are the bruises? Where did the fractures go?"

"Whadya mean?" Po asked curiously. "Tenzin checked me out right after it happened, and said there weren't any broken bones; bruises just healed on their own."

The old master straightened, still openly staring, jaw slightly agape. "Shang…I heard the bones crack. You should have been doubled over in pain these past seven days. And yet now you stand here and tell me it tickles?"

"Well, it does…" he said sheepishly. He turned to look at Tai Lung, who only shrugged, looking as lost as he was.

"How?" Sun Bear asked with disbelief. "And you tell me it hasn't hurt since…"

"Well," Po said, smiling at Tai Lung. "Tenzin's really good at healing an' stuff."

Sun Bear's dark eyes shifted over to Tai Lung, who, despite being taller and stronger than the old bear, squirmed in discomfort. "Good at healing, are you?" the master asked with an even tone.

Tai Lung swallowed hard. "Small things, really. Picked them up in my travels."

"Like what?" he interrogated.

"Erm, how to dress a wound, cure a cough, fight infection…"

"And how to fix fractures, perhaps?" the bear glared, his voice low and imposing. Tai Lung didn't like that look at all, and, defended himself the best way he knew how:

"Look, old man, I don't know how he got better so quickly! Maybe he just mends faster than you or I!"

Sun Bear glared back at the seething snow leopard. Tai Lung corrected his footing, clearly seeing what was about to happen. Suddenly, the old master struck, bringing his staff down in a vertical arc towards the snow cat's head. Tai Lung blocked it with his forearm, twisted, and caught the staff in his hand. He did a drop-kick and forced the staff out of the bear's hands. But he wasn't done. The snow leopard kicked the staff up into his own hands and twirled it in front of him, brought it behind his back and dropped into a low stance to await the master's attack.

But Sun Bear just stood still. What he said next startled the snow leopard: "So where did you learn Lotus style, Tenzin?"

Tai Lung choked. "L-Lotus style?"

"Yes," the old master said. "I'm not terribly familiar with it, but a lot of your moves are very reminiscent of the ballet…"

Tai Lung very quickly lied, "I took ballet classes for a couple years…for my balance. I had to quit…wrecked havoc on my feet."

"Is that so?" He stared hard a little while longer, then stepped forward. Tai Lung readied himself for the attack, seeking to keep the staff away from the bear who would most certainly use it against him…but instead, Sun Bear held out his hand and gently took the staff from the stunned cat's hands.

"Don't worry," the old master said. "I won't tell anyone. You're not the first warrior to take dance lessons, and you certainly won't be the last." Then he surprised them further by chuckling, "Now that I think of it, it's impossible for anyone to know that style. There hasn't been a recorded master of it in…well, I suppose it's been forty years, now."

Tai Lung swallowed the lump in his throat, willing his heart to stop pounding so furiously against his chest.

"But you dance, do you?" Sun Bear continued. "Interesting…" he paused, nodding absently, and his dark eyes took on a faraway look, "That's very interesting…" After a moment of quiet introspection, the bear drew his yellow robes closer around him and nodded. "Very well, you are dismissed."

"What?" the pair asked.

"But what about our training?" Po asked.

"That's why we're here!" Tai Lung said.

"Really? I thought you were here to find your purpose?" Sun Bear said cryptically, as if there was more behind his words than he was willing to say.

The snow leopard growled. "Training us was your idea, Master," he mocked. "And you wouldn't call us out here for nothing!"

"Yeah!" Po agreed. "Isn't there, like, I dunno, more 'yoga' moves, or an obstacle course or…"

Sun Bear incredulously stared at them over his shoulder. "You want to complete the obstacle course? Are you out of your—" he stopped himself, then a slow smile grew on his lips. The kind of smile that told the panda and snow leopard they were exceptionally screwed. "Why, as a matter of fact, there is an obstacle course you can use, if you're interested…"

---

If they were expecting something easier than anything Shifu could envision, Po and Tai Lung were severely disappointed. Truly, how anyone could top the Seven Swinging Clubs of Instant Oblivion, or the Gauntlet of Wooden Warriors, or the Field of Fiery Death, was something neither panda nor snow leopard cared to consider.

And yet there they stood, gawking at the course laid before them, wondering if Shifu might have taken pointers from the old bear master. The first arc had spinning spiked maces on poles, followed by a pit of red hot coals twelve feet wide by twenty four feet long that the two had to cross to reach the River of Moving Stepping Stones (floating above a moat that was filled with carnivorous eels), and, by crossing that, they reached the second arc.

The second arc consisted of various trapdoors and booby traps, spinning blades and flumes of fire that shot out of two imposing stone walls forming a slim corridor in the course.

The third arc, however, was the one that made them both gulp; it had a tall wall they needed to climb over, followed by an open field, which looked deceptively simple until a volley of flaming arrows was fired at them from the left, the right, and at forty-five degree angles from above their heads. The obstacle course ended with the successful crossing of a thick white line painted in the dirt on the far side of the field.

Po and Tai Lung stared at the course, then looked at each other, then back at the course. After a pause, the panda looked over his shoulder at the viewing pavilion, where Sun Bear stood watching. Waiting. Expecting them to follow through and complete the course before them…in one piece.

"That guy is psychotic."

---

In the pavilion overlooking the course, Sun Bear and First Brother watched the progression of the two newest recruits as they dodged and ducked, and got scorched and struck, all in a desperate attempt to reach the other side alive.

"You, sir, are psychotic," First Brother stated, giving the Grand Master an annoyed look. "No one has used that obstacle course in years. Most of those booby traps don't even work anymore!"

"They don't know that," Sun Bear said with a smirk, watching their progress.

"Master," the old lion said sternly. "You may be my senior, but I must object. You have no reason to torture these men! They have come to us for help, and what do you do? You throw them to the wolves…and that's an insult to wolves everywhere!"

"You would do well to remember your place, First Brother," the old bear said. He crossed his arms and watched the pair, noting their movements, their balance, how they responded to every barrier in their path. "They've been lying to me since they got here. They know more kung fu than they admitted; the panda, especially, is more skilled than he lets on. And I sincerely doubt Shang and Tenzin are their real names."

"Then call them out on it!" First Brother said. "For pity's sake, Master, they're innocents!"

"Innocents?" the bear glared at the lion. "If they were so innocent, why would they lie in the first place?"

"Oh I don't know…for their own personal safety?" the lion argued.

"But safety from what, I ask you," Sun Bear said. "What are they hiding? What is so important that they need to lie about it?"

The lion had nothing to say to that. After a tense silence, he cleared his throat, "Is that why you've been so hard on them?"

"One reason," the old master confirmed. "Another one is that they fascinate me; I want to see how they work, how their minds work, how much pressure they can handle before they crack. For almost two weeks, they tried so hard to hide who they are, and what they are capable of…the only question is why?"

"Why indeed?" his subordinate wondered. "If you think them bandits—like you first suspected—what need would they come all the way here for? All bandits in this region know the tales of this place are fantasy and myth. Most people don't even believe this place exists!"

"Yes, but the panda would believe anything—if I told him an assassin just wanted to have tea and cake with him, he'd probably sit right down and pour two cups. The snow leopard, on the other hand…" Sun Bear narrowed his eyes and trained them on the snow leopard below, who flipped to avoid getting hit by fiery arrows, a surprisingly agile figure for one of his musculature. "It's been a long time since I've known someone so cynical—"

"You mean like you?"

Sun Bear ignored the jibe. Instead, he sucked in a breath when an arrow became embedded in the snow leopard's arm. The panda let out a shout and made his way toward his comrade. Sun Bear's eyes widened with astonishment; First Brother saw the significance.

"You know, I may not get out of the monastery much," the lion said, almost smugly, "But I don't recall any bandits running to the aid of their brethren. Most just cut and run."

"No, they're most certainly not bandits," Sun Bear said, but he peered closer, and saw, as the panda helped the wounded snow leopard off the course, that something was…off…about that cat. He couldn't place it, what that nagging feeling was, tapping on his skull like a persistent reminder. The answer seemed so simple, so clear, but he refused to believe it.

He watched as the snow leopard tore the arrow from his arm, gritting his teeth as the barb tore through his flesh. The panda tore off a strip of his robe to use as a bandage, with which he dressed the wound.

A cloud passed over the sun, casting a grey glow onto the mountain. And that was when he saw it. Sun Bear audibly gasped, eyes wide, and leaned against the railing to get a closer look.

"Master? Master, what do you see?" First Brother asked.

Sun Bear didn't immediately say. Suddenly finding his voice, the old bear said breathlessly, "Something wonderful. I see something absolutely spectacular."

First Brother took a step back in surprise at the rare sight: Sun Bear was smiling.

---

"…That mother-grabbing son of a—OW—Son of a bitch, that hurt!" Tai Lung hissed. Then, after a pause… "Think he heard me?"

"Probably," Po said, making sure to tie the makeshift bandage firmly. "You need help?"

"No, I just need to sit a spell, I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

Tai Lung leaned up against the low rock wall and took deep breaths as he closed his eyes. "I just…need a moment."

Po, concerned about his friend's sudden pallor, responded, "Ta—Tenzin, maybe we should get you back to your cell—"

"No. No, absolutely not. I'm not going to give that son of a dog the satisfaction!" he stubbornly hissed and leaned back. Pressing his hand against his injured arm, he looked up to the pavilion where the yellow-robed bear was watching them.

Po saw where his gaze had gone. "He's setting us up."

"Of course he is," the snow leopard said. "He's playing us for fools, and I don't like it."

"Why do you think he hates us so much?"

"Beats me," the spotted feline said breathlessly as he recovered. "I'm not sure whether he hates you more, or me."

"I think it's you."

"Why?" he looked at his monochromatic companion. "He's always harder on you in the trials and tests…"

"Yeah, but he's hated you since we got here. I think…" he paused, then leaned in to whisper. "I think he might know who we are."

"Gods, I hope not." He sighed and hoisted himself up. "I hate keeping up a charade, but I don't know if we can really trust him…besides that, I can tell you I'm not winning any popularity contests, and having it be common knowledge that you are the Dragon Warrior might do us more harm than good. Either way, he must suspect that we know more kung fu than we let on."

"A durr," Po sarcastically replied, letting his friend lean on him. "You think we should we come clean?"

"About our real identities?" he asked. "Absolutely not. Given the way he's treated us, I'm not sure I can trust him with that knowledge."

"No, I mean, about our skills. Yeah, we don't get yoga, and the posts are a little redundant, but we haven't learned any fighting…"

"Correction, you haven't learned any fighting," Tai Lung pointed out as Po started leading him to the dormitory. "We're here for you, remember?"

"I thought we were here for you," Po said, confused.

"You heard Sun Bear," Tai Lung hissed. "The Phoenix Scroll is a myth, which means there is no real reason why I should bother staying." He sucked in a breath when pain surged in his injured arm. Catching Po's look, he softened his expression. "I'll stay the whole month, for you."

"But you got your priorities, I know."

They continued on in silence, choosing the back ways to avoid being seen by the other monks. Both knew that it had little to do with pride; they just wanted to avoid any embarrassing questions. They figured there had to be a reason Sun Bear put them through such hell, and instinct told them that what they had just been through would have scared even the most seasoned warrior monk.

Once they got back to their cells, Po helped Tai Lung through the low doorway and laid him down. "Do you need anything?" he asked.

The snow leopard shook his head. "Just…need to rest," he said, his eyelids drooping.

"Okay, buddy. I'll bring you some rice later, after dinner."

But he didn't hear him. Before the panda had finished speaking, Tai Lung had fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He woke up hours later, hearing shuffling outside his cell. He raised himself up on his elbows and saw Po waving to him, a bowl of steaming rice in his hand. The snow leopard sat up and gratefully accepted it, moving to the back of the cell so Po could squeeze in with him.

"How're you feeling?" Po whispered.

"Not as bad as I felt earlier," he said between mouthfuls. "How'd you occupy yourself these last few hours?"

Po thumbed over his shoulder. "The library. Found some neat stuff there, and some stuff you might like."

"Hmm," he said noncommittally. As he continued to eat, he got an uncomfortable feeling, then looked up to see Po staring at him with a long-suffering look. "What?" the feline demanded.

"I said, I found some stuff you might be interested in," he repeated with fervor.

"I heard you the first time, panda."

Po grabbed him by the front of his robe and pulled him closer to whisper, "I think I found a secret passage, behind one of the bookshelves. Sun Bear had to be lying about the Phoenix Warrior's crypt."

"How…"

"The bookshelf is on an inside wall. How can there be a draft from a wall that doesn't face outside?"

Tai Lung paused, then quickly finished his rice. "I think you're nutters."

"Tenzin," Po growled. "I think you should come and see for yourself."

"In case you've forgotten, Shang," he drawled, "I seem to have acquired a wound from a flaming arrow…or did that slip your mind?"

"Oh…" Po realized. "Oh yeah! That reminds me," he turned and pulled out some proper bandages and salves. "I found these stockpiled. Figured you needed to get that wound dressed right."

"That would help, yes," he deadpanned, offering his injured arm. Po carefully unwrapped the makeshift bandage and pulled away the fabric, now stiffened with dried blood. Po sucked in a sharp breath.

"I don't need the gory details, mate. I just ate."

"Tai…there's no wound."

The snow leopard's head whipped around to stare at him. "What?"

"Here, look!" Po said, holding up a candle to show him. Tai Lung set down his bowl and looked down at his arm and to his astonishment…the area where the arrow had struck him was completely healed over. If not for the flecks of dried blood still sticking to his fur, there was no evidence at all to suggest he had been wounded just a few hours before.

"Damn…" Po said.

"Three fen," Tai Lung smugly tallied.

"Shut up," Po scowled.

The snow leopard gave a quick triumphant grin then focused his attention back on his arm. "Now how the devil…" Tai Lung wondered. He shook his head in awe. "All right, I'm lost."

"I'm not," Po said, a look on his face betraying that he was starting to piece things together. "Listen, I went back to that nook you told me about, where you found the journal. I flipped through it some more…Tai," he said, looking his friend right in the eye to get his point across. "The Phoenix Warrior had the healing touch."

Tai Lung stared at him, awestruck. "…What?"

"He was a healer; anyone he treated got better, no matter what. Think about it," Po explained. "When I broke my ribs, you touched them right after, and the pain started to go away—a week later, still no pain. Before that, Little Brother was supposed to have a fever—he felt a little warm in my arms, but after I handed him over to you, after you held him, he was normal. And now you've gotten shot, and hours later, the wound is gone."

The snow leopard shook his head in awe. "This is unbelievable…"

Po snorted and gave in to his temper, snapping, "Aren't you listening, you idiot? What more proof do you need?"

"You call me an idiot one more time, and I'm smashing you through that wall. Don't think I won't." He paused, then asked, "What else did the journal say?"

Po stood and brushed himself off. "I'm not telling you anything more until you come with me to the library and I show you. You obviously think seeing is believing, so I'm going to show you the proof so you can stop being a blockhead and open your stinkin' eyes!"

Tai Lung stared hard, then sighed and stood. "I'm going to let your little tantrum slide, only because I know you're hungry, and I know how you get when you get hungry."

"What're you saying?" Po challenged. "You saying I get crabby?"

"Of course not—I don't want to offend the crabs."

"Why you—" Po flustered. "Y'know, one more crack and I'll Wuxi your fuzzy butt back to Mongolia!"

Tai Lung stopped suddenly, his face suddenly gone pale. Po immediately sobered, seeing—and fearing—that the snow leopard was having another traumatic flashback. "Tai?" he whispered. "Are you okay?"

Tai Lung's fingers ghosted over the spot on his arm where the arrow had punctured him. The flecks of dried blood fell from his fur as he pressed his fingers against the non-existent wound. But the haunted look in his eyes grew deeper and deeper until his whole being stiffened with shock.

"The finger hold…" he breathed. The snow leopard whirled, grabbed the panda's wrist and dragged him along. "Alright, let's go—if I'm right…"

"Right about what?" Po hissed; even though the monks were still at their evening prayers, he felt it best to keep their voices down. Tai Lung, however, had a hard time controlling himself, shakily explaining his thoughts:

"Po, you said the Phoenix Warrior had the ability to heal; I remember Auntie telling me that. Sun Bear said the Phoenix Warrior was supposed to have gone through a complete rebirth of the soul…and that physically dying and coming back to life was a hallmark of the legend." He stopped and turned to him suddenly, just yards from the entrance to the library. The snow leopard gripped the panda by the shoulders, gently shaking him, and his eyes had taken on a wild look as he frantically whispered, "I survived it, Po…I survived the Wuxi Finger hold, something no one has ever done before. Jiao Shen said it—'you survived it,' he said, 'you know its secret'…but he was wrong. I didn't know the secret…" he hesitated, then turned to march right for the library's doors, "…but I think I just figured it out."

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Please read and review; I'd like to know if I still got it. ^_^;