Chapter 10: The Descent

Before I begin, I want to apologize for this chapter's length. There is also a LOT going on, and perhaps too much was pushed into this chapter than there needed to be. But, meh, you got your warning.

The first of three Big Reveals will occur at the end of this chapter. Be prepared!

Disclaimer: I don't own it, not doing any of this for profit.

The library was dark and absolutely deserted. Even the scribes usually so hard at work were away from their desks, their candles long since extinguished and their quills and brushes laying out to dry on soft cloths. Po and Tai Lung crept past the desks and in between the maze of shelves until coming to the little nook the snow leopard had discovered. Po had had the foresight to bring a lit candle; he touched it to a large, thick candle set in a wall sconce on one side of the book shelf.

He took hold of his friend's wrist and showed him with painstaking slowness, just where he had felt the draft through the wall. Tai Lung's eyes visibly brightened in recognition, with mingled perplexity. "It is as you said," he whispered. "How could I have missed this?"

"I almost missed it, too," Po whispered back as he set his candle on the empty, dusty desk. "I don't get a draft anywhere else in here, except by the door or windows, but this room doesn't have any windows, and no doors."

"Not that we can see, anyway." the snow leopard knelt and felt along the edges of the bookshelf until his fingers ghosted over the Phoenix Warrior's journal. "Still here, excellent…"

"Don't you want to see if there's a secret passage?" Po asked, still in hushed tones.

"That's what I'm trying to find," Tai Lung responded, putting the open book on the desktop and flipping through the pages. "A journal is meant to be read only by the writer, or whoever happens upon the journal after the writer's passing. He might have left a clue or something in here…aha! Here's something about this temple's construction…made not too long after the Jade Palace was constructed."

"I wonder if they're connected?" the panda wondered as he scrutinized the bookcase.

"It's possible," Tai Lung agreed. "If the Dragon Warrior and Phoenix Warrior knew each other, they may have shared more than just kung fu secrets. Hmm…looks like there were plans made to have escape corridors, in the event of an attack."

"Attack?" Po asked dubiously. "You'd have to have some pretty wicked bad karma to attack a monastery…" But even as he said it, he realized— "This wasn't a monastery…" Po breathed.

"What?"

The panda turned away from the wall to stare at his friend's back. "Think about it—this was built to be a fortress. The Jade Palace wasn't built with all the modifications this place has."

"Well of course it wasn't. It doesn't need it," the feline reasoned. "It's on top of a tall mountain, populated by kung fu masters, and lies on the opposite side of a deep, bottomless chasm. With all that…"

"Who needs a security system?" Po quipped.

Tai Lung wryly smiled, "Exactly. Hmm… Hullo, what's this?"

"What's what?"

Tai Lung beckoned him over to read a passage in the journal: "It looks like the guidelines for identifying the Phoenix Warrior… 'My successor shall be known as a man to have lived, died, and been resurrected. His soul will be cleansed after a generation buried beneath the earth, a generation served in the deepest pit of the Hell for his sins. His coming will be marked by flames and destruction. From the fires of Hell he emerges and takes flight…'" he frowned, "and the rest of the ink is smudged."

"Still more than we knew before," Po said helpfully. "Buried for a generation…like, buried alive or something?"

Tai Lung shuddered, "I wouldn't want that, certainly…" He glanced over at Po, who had a particularly sober look on his face. "Oh come on, there's no way this can all be taken literally. No one has ever died then come back to life a generation later."

But Po wasn't so sure. In fact, the more he thought about the guidelines, however vague they were...the more his glances at his friend's back became stares.

Tai Lung, however, ignored him and idly flipped a few more pages and found—to his delighted shock—a creased scroll in the middle of the book, acting as a type of bookmark. He extracted it and carefully unrolled part of it and found— "Mother's love!" the snow leopard gasped. "Blueprints!"

"Whoa, dude!" Po scrambled up next to him, as giddy as a child on New Year's. "That is so cool! They're even labeled." He helped the snow leopard unroll and unfold the thin papers—five in all—one for each wing of the monastery. One for the barracks, one for each pagoda, one for the main hall and one—

"Look! This one's for the library!"

Po pointed a clawed digit at one seemingly insignificant rectangle in the dead center of the blueprint. "And this is where we are. You know what that image means?"

"I've a feeling you're about to tell me."

"Remember when we helped renovate the Chin's family home last year? Remember the carpenter explaining all the symbols and stuff? This one, a rectangle with a bunch of lines through it, means stairs."

"But there aren't any stairs in this room."

Po frowned, running his fingers along the walls and pressing his cheek up against the bare rock. "Then there's gotta be a secret entrance to them. Dude, this is just like those old treasure stories my dad used to tell me when I was a kid!" While he ignored Tai Lung's eye roll, the panda crept along the bookcase and suddenly felt something. His claws had dug into the stone, but instead of a natural crack or formation, the line was far too straight to have been nature. Feeling a rush of excitement, Po quickly turned to Tai Lung and pointed at the candle in the sconce.

"I think I found something! Here, hand me that candle."

Tai Lung obeyed without taking his eyes off the blueprints, reaching up and taking the candle out of the wall sconce. He never got the chance to hand it to Po. As soon as the candle had cleared the wall, he felt a whoosh of air and jumped back in alarm as the wall moved. One minute he had been standing next to a panda examining a wall of books, and now both panda and bookcase were replaced with a solid slab of unfinished rock…and neither were nowhere to be found. The snow leopard panicked, looking desperately for a way to open the wall again—

Then he heard tapping on the other side of the wall and a highly muffled voice shouting: "Put. The Candle. BACK."

Had he heard that right? The snow leopard pressed his ear to the stone and waited. He heard the tapping again, and the same muffled order. So what the hell does a candle have to do with…? Then he outwardly groaned when he realized it. He stood up and pressed his fingers into the sconce—a tripped switch! The candle's weight triggered the switch that must have opened the secret door!

How very clever…maybe if I'd been better fed, I would have picked up on that sooner. He replaced the candle, and as soon as he firmly set the candle in its holder, the wall revolved again, on a central axis, admitting Po back into the room. The panda looked back at the wall behind him, then over to his friend…and grinned. "Okay, one, that was so freakin' cool! And two… I tol'ya there was a door."

"Charming," Tai Lung drawled. "So now that we know how to get in…"

Po pressed himself against the wall again, a somewhat manic grin on his face. "Not so fast—you took that candle out of the holder and the wall made a whole rotation. We just need it to turn 90 degrees, not 180!"

The snow leopard raised a brow. "…All right."

Po pulled his robes closer to his body and leaned up against the edge of the bookcase again. "So let's try again; maybe I can stop the door with my body—"

"Erm, Po, I'm not sure that's a good—"

"It'll be fine. What's the worst that can happen?"

Tai Lung scowled. "Just so you know, I'm putting that on your tombstone."

"Cute. Remove the candle."

Tai Lung sighed and waited until he was sure Po was ready, then lifted the candle from its holder. Unfortunately, the snow leopard had not paid close enough attention to how close he was standing to the wall…so that when he lifted the candle, the wall rotated, catching both of them in its rotation. The snow leopard dropped the candle and it clattered the floor and went out. But this was the least of their worries. The wall had done a complete rotation, and now both panda and snow leopard were trapped on the other side…and no one knew where they were.

"Auntie? Do you have a minute?"

The elderly red panda peered over the rim of her reading glasses and spied Su Lin standing at her office door. It was still early, and the red panda's classes were not due to begin for another hour; Su Lin's shift at the restaurant wasn't to begin until later that morning. Wu Lien, of course, started her day as always: waking before dawn to enjoy quiet meditation and a cup of tea with her husband before both parted ways for the day, he to his students in the training hall, and she to her school at the foot of the mountain. Some days she got in early enough to check her star charts in her office; this was becoming less frequent now that she had a school to run, and she welcomed any opportunity to engage in an old pasttime.

She beckoned the young female inside her small office, minimally decorated but for the long, low bookcase behind her desk; it held all almanacs, scrolls, books and ledgers she used for both business and pleasure. "Of course, I've always got time for you, Su-Su. Let me just put away these charts—"

Su Lin moved quickly and put her palm down on top of the almanac. "No. I need it," she forcibly said. She paused, swallowed hard, then corrected herself, "I know something's…off about me. It's nothing physical that I can tell. It has to be chi-related, and you're the only person I can talk to about it."

"It could also be in your head, dear," Wu said, gently nudging the panda's hand off her book. She was surprised to hear the sudden aggression in the panda's tone when she shortly replied,

"Auntie, I am not crazy." Well...Su Lin didn't look crazy, but she certainly looked mad.

Quickly regaining her composure, the red panda woman asked, "Did I say you were?" Wu hopped down off her seat and trotted over to her bookcase to scan the titles. "Shifu has taught me—by observation, mind—that prolonged mental distress can have sometimes debilitating consequences on physical health. As Oogway once explained to him, if one of the 'chakras' is off, then it throws the whole body out of balance."

"Yes!" Su Lin exclaimed. "That's exactly how I feel! I know something's wrong, but I don't know what it could be. And what the heck is a chakra?"

"I think it's like chi, but pooled in specific parts of the body; I hardly understand it myself. Ah, here we are." She pulled a book out and began flipping through the pages as she walked back to her desk. Books had been stacked like stairs to allow her access to the high desk and chair that had been gifted her. "Let's see…You're a Sheep, right?"

"That's right."

"Also called 'Goat' or 'Ram' in some regions…" she read; she ran her finger across the page, intermittently reading aloud certain sections. "A Yin sign, associated with mid-summer, the early afternoon hour, the sixth month of the year, and—aha! Read here…"

Su Lin peered at where the red panda's finger was pointing. "'Fixed element…fire'? I thought I was a water personality?"

"You are. The year you were born in makes you a Fire-Water Sheep. Read what water does to you: 'if the water element is out of balance, it is associated with fear and anxiety. The proper balance ensures intelligence and wisdom, but also can cause difficulty in making decisions and sticking by them.' Tell me, does that sound familiar?"

Su Lin chewed on her bottom lip and looked away; Wu could tell that the panda agreed with her. The younger female was a bit more timid and shy than most people she knew, but that didn't explain her recent aggression. "I…I guess I am afraid," Su Lin confessed. "I've always been afraid. And now I can't make a decision about me and Po…I feel like I'm lost, and don't know where to turn…"

"But," the matriarch pointed out, "remember you are a fixed fire sign as well. Your water has just out-balanced the fire. This isn't entirely a bad thing, because it keeps and restores balance. Water can be weak and fluid, but never forget that river floods and monsoons are probably the most devastating disasters we face. Now, as for the fire that is your fixed element…let's do a little compare and contrast. Now, Tai Lung has quite a bit of fire…"

"But he is like the wildfire," the panda protested, "completely unstoppable and impossible to be contained once it is let loose." This examination sounded harsh to Wu's own ears, even as she knew it to be true. Though he had made remarkable strides since his escape from prison, Tai Lung still had that temper, and though he rarely got, well, pissed for lack of better word, it didn't take much to irritate him.

Wu agreed with her: "Exactly, unless he seeks to contain himself, which isn't always easy for a fire person; you, on the other hand, are like a fire contained in a hearth. You offer warmth against the cold, a means to provide food and sustenance, and light to see the way. Unlike Tai Lung, you are always in full control of the fire in your soul. However, if I may be so bold…you've tried to control it too much."

The female panda frowned. "How is that a bad thing? Fire is destructive; I mean, using Tai Lung as an example…well, enough said."

"Agreed."

"But doesn't it make sense to want to control fire?"

"Fire cannot be controlled so easily. None of the elements can be controlled, not completely. People are funny that way; the more they try to control and outsmart Nature, the more Nature comes back to hurt them." Wu flipped back to the beginning of the book to the chapter about the Five Elements. "Fire is associated with strength and perseverance, but it can also lead to restlessness…do you feel restless?"

It didn't take long to reach her answer: "…Yes. Yes, I do."

Wu hummed in agreement, flipped a page, and continued, "It provides warmth and creativity, but excess of it breeds aggression and impulsive behavior. To put it simply, a little fire—like a candle—is good, but too much burns you in more ways than one."

"So I just need to figure out how to control the water aspects of my personality, and let go of the fire?"

"Oh heavens no!" the red panda declared. "Don't completely let go of the fire…but loosen the leash a bit." Then she unceremoniously closed the book and dropped it into the pile by her feet. She leaned back in her seat and steepled her hands, looking at her young charge over the rim of her glasses again. "Metaphors aside, let's consider the following: You were born under a Yin sign in a Fire-Water year. There is an overabundance of Yin in your character, probably not helped by our dearly beloved 'traditional values'," she said with a sarcastic tone and ironic brow. "You have been told since infancy to hide your true feelings because it's unbecoming of a woman to be overly emotional or speak her mind. You need to be calm and collected at all times, and never lose your temper. And you always have to defer to a man for every move you make. That is not in the Sheep's personality; the sign has a duality, too, if you'll recall. Sheep—the follower—and the Ram—the leader. If I can hypothesize…you've been a follower for so long that it's dragging you down. You want to be a leader, for once. You want to be stubborn and impulsive. You want to do whatever the hell you want just for the hell of it! In short, you're so tired of being fearful and guarded that you don't want to be like Tai Lung, you want to be him: impulsive, aggressive—free."

"That's silly," the giant panda said. "I'm not unhappy, and I'm fine being a follower. There's less risk of getting hurt."

"Think about what you just said," Wu instructed. "You don't want to be fearful anymore, but you also don't want to leave your comfort zone."

"Auntie, I'm not like you," she said shortly. "I'm not independent, and I like my comfort zone. For the first time in my life, you're right, I don't have to defer to a man for every decision; I can make my own decisions, make my own money, and I'm not controlled by anyone."

"Aren't you?"

Su Lin stared at her. "What do you mean?"

Wu sighed, removing her reading glasses. "Su Lin, I'll be frank: you are being controlled. And I think I understand what's really going on here. You're right that you like having this freedom, but this freedom is also rather frightening because sometimes, you're right, it isn't safe. But a life lived in fear of leaving the house is not a life I would wish on my worst enemy. It's not a life at all! But what's holding you back isn't an individual, it's a convention. You want to make your family happy and proud of you, but at the same time…now that you've tasted freedom, something other than domesticity, you realize you've got other options in your future than to be a wife and mother. You have a career, and freedom, and getting married and having children means giving up that freedom…and that frightens you more than anything else."

"No...no, that's not true. That's not true at all!" she stubbornly denied, and very heatedly. "You're wrong; I am not being controlled, and I am not afraid of getting married!"

Wu silently stared at her, and it looked like she was weighing the merits of saying something. At last minute, however, she decided to drop it. "All I'm saying…just think about it. You're right; I could be way off the mark, but bear in mind that while all this is really a shot in the dark, it is based on my observations and my humble opinion." She smiled half-heartedly. "I just want you to be happy, dear, and right now you're not. Know that if you need anything—and I mean anything—don't hesitate to ask."

Su Lin stared back at her mentor, seemingly weighing her own internal questions, before standing and excusing herself to leave. "I know. Thank you, Auntie."

"You're quite welcome. Oh, and Su Lin? If you feel like punching anybody, particularly a gorilla with a face only a mother could love, I'd really appreciate it if you did so on your way out."

She stopped and asked, "The same gorilla I hit with the skillet?"

Wu rolled her eyes, "Unfortunately. He came around yesterday for my 'interview'. Bah, interrogation, more like. He left with a few injuries though."

The panda's jaw dropped. "Auntie, you didn't!"

The red panda shrugged, appearing just as surprised as the younger panda. "Actually, I didn't. Shifu did. Apparently the two of them have some sort of grudge…" she shrugged again. "Men, what can I say?"

"They're weird?"

Wu smirked, "Atta girl. Don't work too hard today, I know it'll be busy, but…"

Su Lin nodded. "Don't worry; I'll mind not to stretch myself too thin."

Unfortunately for Su Lin, she didn't get much of a choice. All but two of the other waitstaff had called out sick, and the restaurant was unseasonably busy. It was only Su Lin and one ewe and one female rabbit covering nearly thirty tables of varying sizes. Though many customers were well enough aware of the situation and short-staffing, most didn't seem to care. They demanded service, superior service, even if there were only three waitresses that day. Behind the counter in the kitchen, Su Lin knew that Dalang had to be muttering a storm of foreign curses as he sautéed onions and ginger, and even Mr. Ping looked harried and short-tempered as he furiously chopped vegetables for the soups.

"Waitress!"

Speaking of short-tempered…

The female panda turned in the direction of the shout and only barely suppressed a groan. Mr. Lu, the cantankerous old goat, was glaring right in her direction, his bowl untouched.

Please, she pleaded to whatever god was listening, not now… "Yes, Mr. Lu, is there something wrong?"

"Is something wrong? Of course something is wrong!" he snapped, slamming his hoof on the tabletop. "This is the single worst service I've ever experienced! Those dumplings are undercooked and not fit for beggars! And these noodles are hard and crunchy—is Ping even bothering to cook his food anymore?"

Su Lin looked over her shoulder at the kitchen…and both Ping and Dalang had heard the goat's loud complaint, if their grim expressions were any clue. In fact, Ping seemed to be chopping with a firmer hand, er, wing than usual. And Dalang's whiskers were twitching…a dangerous sign.

"You look at me when I'm talking to you, you little fool!" Lu snapped. "Absolutely disgraceful! It's a wonder anyone still comes to this dump. The tables are never clean, soup is either too hot or too cold, and no matter what, the service is always terrible!"

She took a deep breath and asked, "Would you like me to get the manager for y—"

"Don't interrupt me!" By now, Mr. Lu had gotten the attention of the entire restaurant. Patrons looked between him and the female panda he was berating, with mingled looks of pity and fury. But the goat ignored them. "You young people are so shameful, and so rude! It's that Wu woman being a bad influence, I'm sure! Service here used to be at least decent when it was still Ping's Noodle Shop, now it is just disgraceful! And if you behaved in the way women were supposed to behave, this would never have been an issue!"

Su Lin stood there—just stood—for a moment, staring catatonically at the goat. Mr. Lu, of course, felt he was fully justified, even as his fellow patrons felt he had crossed the line. The other customers looked at Su Lin, fearing that at any moment, the poor girl would burst into tears.

She swallowed hard and blinked a few times before she shakily said, "I'm so very sorry. I will go get you another bowl, you crabby old grouch."

"That's—what?" the goat gasped. He had meant to say 'well, that's better!' and what he heard was most certainly not what he was expecting from the normally polite and subservient female. But now Su Lin had put down her tray and dug her fists into her hips, adopting a look of utmost fury that no one had ever seen grace her pretty face. A look of utmost fury that told the goat that he was about to get one hell of a chewing out.

"Every time you come in here, all we hear is complaining!" she growled through clenched teeth, her whole body shaking with suppressed anger. "If I have been rude, that's one thing, but I have been nothing but civil to you, and though you ask for me specifically every time you come in, not once have you ever treated me with any kindness or respect! As far as I'm concerned," she said, snatching his dishes and utensils away. "You can take you business elsewhere, and I will be thrilled to see the back of your head…you old fool!"

Mr. Lu only sat and stared as she stormed off, back to the kitchen where both Mr. Ping and Dalang were similarly in awe of her sudden sour mood. Wordlessly, and still fuming, she threw the bowls' contents in a rubbish bin and dropped the empty dishes into the wash basin. Turning to face them with a no-nonsense glare, she snapped, "WHAT?"

Goose and tiger jumped back in alarm and simultaneously placated her with: "Nothing!"

"Everything is fine," Ping assured.

"Not a damn thing wrong," Dalang agreed with an uneasy smile. "Keep doin' what you're doin'."

She crossed her arms and demanded, "All right, say it. Say something; go on, we all know you want to!"

"Say…what?" Dalang asked, sharing a worried look with Mr. Ping.

"Say it!" she snapped. "Say 'this isn't like you, Su' or 'You know better than to talk like that, Su Lin' or…something!"

Goose and tiger chefs shared another look. Dalang shrugged and Ping spoke for the both of them:

"Su Lin?" he said with a perfectly straight face.

"Yes, sir?" she asked, preparing herself for the lecture that was sure to come.

"We are so…" then a grin quickly bloomed on his beak, "proud of you!"

The panda blinked, startled and confused. "B'wuh?"

"Yeah," Dalang said with a smirk. "We're proud of you. Hell, I wanted to tell that old coot off for months."

"I've been waiting years to tell him that!" Ping laughed. "I don't think even Po would have dared to say anything! I don't know what's gotten into you, but if it means losing Mr. Lu as a customer, who cares?"

"Is he really that bad?" she asked.

"Yes," both males concurrently and flatly responded.

"So…I'm not in trouble for poor customer service?"

"Not in my kitchen, you're not," Dalang said. "I'm not sure what's going on…but I'm glad to see you like this."

"You are? But I was so rude to him—"

"Fuck 'im," the tiger shrugged.

"I have to agree, but not in so many words…" the goose concurred, with a disapproving look at the tiger. "Sometimes people like that need a taste of their own medicine."

"Even if you lose a customer?" she asked.

"With Lu gone," Dalang said as an aside to Ping, "More customers might come in, knowing he ain't comin' back."

"See?" Ping smiled at the panda. "What did I tell you? Every cloud has a silver lining!"

Su Lin finally smiled. "You know…you're right. And it felt good to give him a piece of my mind. Maybe I shouldn't have been so abrupt but…darn it, it felt great!"

"Atta girl," Dalang smiled. "Now, you going on that lunch break or am I gonna hafta throw you out of the restaurant too?"

"No need," she giggled. "This is starting to look like a better day already!"

"Um…" Dalang suddenly said warily. "You might've spoken a little too soon." He pointed out the open window at the courtyard, and both Ping and Su Lin groaned in defeat. The tiger chef turned to his boss and asked, "You want I should show him a little Jiao Family Hospitality?"

Ping looked back at the front doorway at Captain Zang and Cadet Hu and sighed. The black horse had been causing quite a stir in the village in the past week, he and his goons interrogating as many people as possible about Tai Lung. That awful gorilla had even reduced a few elderly customers to tears one day. If Mr. Ping had been a more aggressive man, well, that gorilla would be short two ears and a tongue for that!

But, the goose was not a violent man, so he answered, "I do not know what that 'hospitality' is, young man, and I'm not sure I want to know. I think I can safely say it won't be necessary. So stop sharpening your knife."

Dalang sent him an innocent look, even as he continued to sharpen his favorite knife. "What? It was getting dull!" The chef then stared at the young cadet who had opted to stand behind his commanding officer as the horse sat at the empty table Mr. Lu had just vacated. "Who's the kid?"

"Oh, that's Cadet Hu," Ping said enthusiastically. "Rather good manners, not a thug at all, unlike his friends. He interviewed me two days ago—a very fine young man! Strikes me as rather familiar, though…like I've met him somewhere before…"

Dalang locked eyes with the young tiger across the courtyard; the former narrowed his eyes at the other, who hurriedly looked away. "Yeah, funny you mention that…"

"So what do we do?" Su Lin asked. "Do we offer him something to eat?"

"The hell we do," Dalang growled. "He still owes us an apology. If it were up to me, I wouldn't serve him a rotting onion!"

Mr. Ping, however, sighed and shook his head. "No, young man, but it is up to me." The goose hesitated, then said unambiguously, "If he orders something, let him have it, but do not offer him anything he hasn't asked for. It may not be my place to make an example of anyone, but as long as this is still my restaurant, I will not reward bad behavior."

"Gods, I'm glad I started working for you," Dalang told him appreciatively.

Su Lin sighed heavily and glared back at the horse, who had taken out a scroll and piece of charcoal, and was scribbling something down. She huffed and dug her fists into her hips and said, "I'm sure as heck not going to serve him."

"Don't gotta," the Amur tiger said. "He's not breakin' any rules by just sitting and writing, but the minute there's trouble, he's gone."

The panda nodded, then gasped in horror. "Oh no…we won't have to wait long. Look!"

Ping and Dalang both looked to the door…and both chefs (the former rather uncharacteristically) cursed. Sonam had chosen that moment to return from running an errand for his daughter-in-law, who was now confined to strict bed rest, and had stopped short in front of the horse. The scarred snow leopard knew on instinct whom he was staring at, and curled back his lips into a snarl.

Even Mr. Ping was surprised at the speed at which he scaled the courtyard to intercept the old leopard, jumping in between the two would-be combatants in a flurry of feathers. "Sonam! Good to have you back, old friend! Why don't you take the groceries to the pantry, hm? I trust you got the ginger and garlic for Mei Xing—she's doing well, by the bye, I sent her up a cup of tea earlier, and she should be sleeping now…"

"I'd be happy to, Ping old boy," Sonam said, baring his fangs and still glowering at Zang, "But if you don't mind, I think I should first take out the trash."

Zang cast a stern look at Mr. Ping…and a much sterner one at Sonam. "Am I to assume you are the fathers of this home's missing residents?"

"If by that," the goose said evenly, with no hint of discourtesy, "You mean is the Dragon Warrior my son? The answer is yes." The normally jovial tone and expression were now conspicuously absent, and Mr. Ping knew he certainly wasn't the only one feeling uncomfortable. A few of his customers had picked up their bowls and had moved further away…probably to avoid being in the line of fire if and when Sonam attacked the Captain.

"And you, I assume," the black horse said as he stared at Sonam with a queer smile, "are Sonam, Tai Lung's father, and the Jade Palace's Blacksmith. Quite an illustrious title, you must be proud."

Sonam smiled thinly, dumping his sack of groceries on the nearest empty table. "I'm proud of many things, Captain. Especially my son."

The dark horse returned his icy grin as he jotted down some notes. "Of course, what father wouldn't be proud of all the things his son has accomplished? But surely you regret some things, don't you?"

"Not really," the snow leopard shrugged. "The boy's made mistakes, like everyone does. Do I agree with all of his choices? No. If you're inquiring about his stint in prison and his escape…well, having served time once, I can't say I blame him. Prison's no picnic."

"You're an ex-convict? Really?" Zang said with supreme interest, still energetically writing. "What were you imprisoned for?"

Sonam grinned with great mirth, but on his scarred face, it took on a frightening and rather grotesque look…and when he realized this, it only made the old blacksmith happier to see how uneasy the horse looked. "Got arrested for starting a brawl," Sonam said. "In me defense, the man I punched was the one t' question me wife's honor. I hold honor to a pretty high standard."

"Do you?"

"Aye. Anyone who dishonors me—I'll knock his block off. Anyone who dishonors my family…I'll kill them."

Zang visibly shivered, but judging from his expression, he had no idea why he had reacted in such a way. But he quickly recovered and continued, "It helps to know you don't always agree with your son…however, murder is not a 'mistake'."

"Sure it is—people kill other people by accident all the time."

"I SAW what he did to those men!" Zang suddenly roared as he stood, slamming his fists into the tabletop. "I saw their remains in that cave, some of them completely mutilated beyond recognition. You call that an accident?" he shrieked. "They were ripped to shreds, men I fought with, men I considered brothers! And that beast did that do them! How DARE you stand here and tell me that was a mistake!"

Sonam's smile had quickly evaporated into a stony, pale stare.

"As far as I'm concerned," Zang finally seethed. "Hanging is too good for the man that did that to them."

Sonam swallowed hard. "I see." After a pause, he asked, "And you think my son is responsible for that?"

"Who else would have such a vendetta against the Anvil of Heaven?" Zang demanded.

"Oh, I can think of a few."

Zang jumped and nearly tripped over his chair when Shifu finally spoke up. Always the master of stealth, Shifu had taken his time to see where the interview was going, then made his presence known when he saw it had taken a sudden turn for the worse. He glowered at the horse a moment, then thinly smiled…which for anyone who knew Shifu, knew that Zang was about to get the lecture of his life.

"Let's be realistic here, shall we, Captain?" he began pleasantly enough as he stood across from him. "Commander Vachir and his men were known throughout the empire as great warriors who defeated their enemies with strength and fortitude. But they still had enemies, many of them. Tai Lung may be an obvious suspect, but by no means is he the only one. Need I bring up the Lizards of Lao-zhou County? After Master Flying Rhino, they, of course, would have salivated at getting revenge through the Anvil of Heaven. And what about the Western Yak clans? I wager they're not very chummy with Vachir, not after that gentleman's feud—"

"I am aware of that feud, sir," Zang said shortly, but immediately cowed when Shifu glared at him. The grip around the peach wood staff tightened, and the red panda said behind gritted teeth,

"The point, Zang," he said, deliberately dropping the horse's military title, "Is that they had many enemies. You think that Tai Lung is the only enemy of the Furious Five, just because he fought them once?"

"If you are who I believe you to be," Zang said with a strained tone, "I believe the only reason you defend such an animal is because you have a personal attachment, Master Shifu."

"Ah, so you believe that personal attachments can affect one's judgment?"

"I do."

Shifu openly smiled in triumph; this was how Zang knew he had fallen into the old red panda's trap. "Why, Captain Zang, I am so glad you agree." Expertly twisting the staff in his small hand, he pointed the staff's tip towards the door. "Now, why don't you go back to the capital and kindly ask His Excellency to assign another person to this case…someone without a bias."

"This is not to be borne," Zang said, daring to snap back. "You are ordering around a high official within the Imperial Arm—"

"And you are questioning the orders of a kung fu master that could snap your legs like toothpicks." Shifu raised an eyebrow at the horse. "Think about it."

This argument thus deflated, Zang tried another approach. "You are not the magistrate, Master Shifu."

"And last I checked, Captain, neither are you—which means you are not lord over this valley either."

"And yet you act like you are. For reasons I shall never understand, the Jade Palace has operated with impunity for years, an impunity which I'm sure you have exercised any chance you've gotten. You and Oogway are very similar in that regard."

"That's Master Oogway to you," Shifu growled. "And if you value the ability to walk, I suggest you leave. Now."

Zang sniggered, "What's the matter, Shifu? Can't take what you dish out? Or are you so proud that you can't take any criticisms whatsoever? For that matter, you know what people outside this valley say about Oogway, and I am not the only one who thinks him a coward and a traitor to the empire. He was a charlatan, a usurper of the Emperor's power, and should have received the same fate as any traitor to the crown."

Shifu barely managed to rein in his righteous fury, tapped his staff on the ground and gritted out, "Say that to my face."

Zang took up his challenge, and stood to get in close enough to hiss through gritted teeth, "I said 'your master Oogway was a filthy, low-life traitor.' What are you going to do about it," he asked, finishing with an insult, "you ring-tailed tree rat?"

Shifu suddenly smiled. "Nothing. I was just waiting for him to sneak up behind you."

When Zang turned to look, he got up close and personal with Master Monkey's fist, which instantly knocked him to the floor. Monkey brushed dust off his hands and cracked his knuckles. The fuming look did not immediately leave the simian's face, but still he turned to his master and bowed respectfully. "Forgive me, Master Shifu—I reacted in anger."

"As your master, I have no choice but to forgive you, Master Monkey," Shifu said, finding it difficult to hide his proud smile. "But I do believe you owe Captain Zang an apology for hitting him because he insulted the memory of a most beloved citizen of the Valley of Peace."

Zang snorted and hissed, nearly getting violent as Quon helped him to stand. The horse's nerve left him, however, as soon as he realized Shifu and Monkey were not the only kung fu masters present in the restaurant…and they were not the only ones who had heard his insolent comment. Master Tigress looked angrier than any picture ever painted of her. Master Mantis looked ready to rip out the warhorse's spleen. Master Monkey had to be held back by both Master Viper and Master Crane, but neither of the married pair looked ready to forgive the captain. Despite his reputation, for example, Master Crane looked absolutely livid, and despite the knowledge that she had no venom, Zang didn't fancy getting bitten by Viper…which she looked absolutely ready to do.

"Quon?" Zang finally asked his subordinate.

"Yes, sir?" the tiger youth quietly asked.

"Is there any way for me to retreat with my dignity intact?"

Quon dubiously looked back at the five kung fu warriors and their master, plus the one-eyed snow leopard and the knife-wielding tiger chef behind the counter. Not even Mr. Ping was above glaring daggers at the soldiers.

"I think your only option is ritual suicide, sir."

"I was afraid of that."

Mr. Ping cleared his throat and waddled back to the kitchen counter, picked up his largest chef's knife, and began sharpening it; he meant nothing by it, of course, for there was simply not a violent bone in the goose's body. He had no idea how menacing his knife-work could be to complete strangers; he just needed something to do to hide his shaking hands, because telling off even a simple foot soldier would mean speaking against the emperor…truly a dangerous game. And, well, that knife was starting to get a bit dull anyhow. "Now, Captain," he said calmly. "I am in the business to provide only the best food and even better customer service…" he then looked up at the horse, "So, to best serve my customers, I am afraid I must ask you to leave."

Master Crane backed him up, stepping forward and making very it clear: "I don't speak for the management, but if I—or any of my comrades—ever see you here again, we'll drag you out of this valley ourselves. Are we clear, Captain?"

Zang glared back at the avian, then sniffed and replied, "Very clear, Master Crane. I believe our investigation has acquired sufficient evidence." He leaned down and rolled up his scroll, depositing it into a pocket on the inside of his cloak. "We will no longer be of concern to you and yours. Rest assured, you will not be seeing us again—not unless you give us good reason to come back."

"We won't," Tigress snapped, unsheathing her claws. "Now get out."

Not one to miss a parting shot, Zang said, "You do realize you are all protecting a dangerous madman—"

"Yeah, but he's our madman," Mantis snapped from Monkey's shoulder, then both of them pointed the door. "Now get the hell out."

The Captain and his cadet swiftly packed up their things and made straight for the door, but Quon held back a moment, giving the Furious Five and their master and sorrowfully apologetic look before following his commanding officer out of the restaurant and out of sight.

"I feel sorry for that boy," Monkey said as Quon hurried off.

"Ditto," Mantis said. "He's not bad—he interviewed me earlier. He's a good, salt-of-the-earth kinda kid. He's in the wrong business with that guy, though."

"This whole thing bothers me," Viper said. "This is the first thing we've heard about a pardon for Tai Lung since the Jiao War…why wait so long?"

"I'll tail them," Crane said definitively. "Make sure they actually do as they say and leave the Valley."

"If you do, Crane," Shifu said, "Remember the Castle Law—as long as it is within our borders, you can defend your home as you see fit…by whatever means necessary."

"You mean kill them?" Viper asked, horrified. "Master, I must protest—that would only spell more trouble!"

"Oh, there'll be trouble, all right," Shifu said. He reached into his sleeve and pulled out a scroll. The red panda unrolled it and handed it over to Monkey. "The Emperor himself responded to my letter of inquiry concerning the Captain—apparently he never authorized a background investigation for Tai Lung."

They all reacted in unison: "What?"

"I knew it," Tigress growled, clenching her fists. "I knew it was a sham!"

"What else did His Excellency say?" Crane asked.

"Very little," said the red panda, accepting the scroll back from Monkey, rolled it up and placed it back in his sleeve. "We are to keep him posted, but the impression I got is that what Captain Zang Deshi is doing is most certainly not authorized by the Imperial government. What is certain is that he is not interested in Tai Lung's well-being." The red panda nodded at Crane. "Take to the skies, and report back to us if and when they leave. I'll alert the magistrate of their activities and ask he employ some form of guard around the village. In the meantime, keep your eyes open for any suspicious activity. You're all dismissed."

Once the warriors had parted ways, Mr. Ping finally put down his knife with a heavy sigh. Dalang and Su Lin both let out their own relieved sighs and turned to get back to work. But Ping quickly realized with alarm that he was not the only one shaking. Sonam had gone completely silent and still, and his scarred face had paled considerably.

Ping looked up with concern at his friend's face. "Sonam, what is wrong? You are as pale as a ghost!"

The snow leopard swallowed hard as his heart raced. He whispered, "Ping…I think I've signed my son's death warrant." After a long pause, which neither elder knew what to say, Sonam guiltily asked him, "What do I tell Mei Xing?"

Ping sighed and shook his head sorrowfully. "For now...say nothing more than that Captain Zang has left. And if I were you," the goose said with a firm look at the snow leopard, "I would keep my head down. For heaven's sake—and for your son's—don't do anything I would not!"

Closing time came early that day; Ping felt there had been too much "excitement" to warrant keeping the restaurant open much longer…which of course was code for needing a drink to take the edge off a very nerve-wracking day. Besides, the place was all but deserted anyhow by sundown. Tigress was helping close up for the night, sweeping up the courtyard when she felt a presence behind her. Reacting the only way she knew how, she twirled the broom in her hand and whirled about, bringing the staff down on the unsuspecting trespasser's head—

—only for her to realize that her trespasser was a teenage tiger. "Um…sorry?" she offered by way of an apology, albeit not a very convincing one.

Hu Quon gingerly rubbed his head and he picked himself up off the floor. "No, ow, I should've known better than to sneak up on you…oww…"

Inwardly relieved that she had not seriously injured the cadet, Tigress crossed her arms and asked, "What are you doing here, Cadet?"

Quon held up his hands in a calming fashion. "Please, Master Tigress, ma'am, hear me out—I wanted to apologize for my superior's conduct…"

"If your superior can't be bothered to humble himself to us, then I won't accept any apology from one of his lackies." Tigress bit her tongue when she saw the look crossing the youth's face. "Please, forgive me," she said hastily. "I am not mad at you."

"No, ma'am, I understand. I'm small. I'm an easy target."

"No, that's not what I meant—I'm mad at your commanding officer, and it's wrong of me to take it out on you."

Quon gave her a half-hearted smile, "I really do appreciate you think so well of me that you apologized, but I'm not really anyone of consequence. I'm smaller than the average tiger; I've gotten used to being the whipping boy."

Okay, now she felt really bad for hitting him. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen, ma'am," he answered with a slight blush.

Gods, he was just a kid. And now Tigress felt particularly bad for losing her temper at him…even worse for hitting him. With someone as volatile as Zang for a mentor, Quon had to be on the receiving end of such tempers all the time…something he certainly didn't deserve. And without said bad influence around him, the tiger youth seemed genuinely sweet and kind, if maybe a bit naïve, and certainly still at that stage where he was searching for purpose and for acceptance from others. "You're not done growing, yet," she said. "Have hope; you may be as big as an Amur Tiger when you're older."

"I'll never be that big," Quon said sullenly. "South China tigers just can't compare in size to…well, to tigers like your husband."

Tigress smirked, setting the broom aside. "And yet I am the strongest, and the one who wears the pants in this family."

Quon stared at her in shock. "You? But you're…"

"A woman?" she finished for him.

He pressed his ears flat against his head. "I mean no offense, ma'am."

"I believe you," she said sincerely. "But I think you should be spending less time with your commanding officer."

Quon looked around, then over his shoulder, before lowering his tone and telling her, "I hope you know, ma'am, that while he is my commanding officer, I don't share all of Captain Zang's beliefs."

She smiled and nodded. "There's hope for you yet…Quon, right?"

He nodded. "Yes, ma'am, that's right."

"Where did you say you were from?"

"Guangzhou; my mother and grandmother raised me."

"What about your father?"

He shrugged. "I never saw him; he sent money, sure, but he just wasn't there, you know? That doesn't mean I don't honor him, because I do—but it's hard to love someone who puts business before family."

Tigress frowned, thinking back to her parents' ancestor tablet and all the memories involved. "I know how that feels." And she did. Her biological father was a migrant worker, and while he had to do what he did to provide for his family, Tigress couldn't adequately honor him because…well, she knew absolutely nothing about him. She didn't know his favorite foods, or favorite color, hell, she didn't even know how old he was when he married her mother! While the money helped pay for food and the roof over their heads, Tigress remembered, even as a little girl, watching with envy as other little girls ran smiling and giggling into their fathers' arms and wondered why she couldn't have that. After her mother died and she had been adopted by Shifu, Tigress still envied those girls, even as they were married off at young ages—their fathers still loved them, but Shifu had never shown any affection like that. And now another South China tiger, just like her, stood before her, a tiger who knew exactly how it felt to always be kept at arm's length by a non-existent father.

After a pause, she asked, "Why did you enter the academy?"

Now he smiled, and she saw something familiar there, a light in those youthful eyes she remembered, just barely, from a memory as dim as a star's light. But his smile was a sad one, yet carried with it an undercurrent of hope. "Well, it was a great opportunity that fell on our doorstep! Even if it didn't seem so great at first…see, one day, when I was thirteen, the money just stopped coming. We didn't know what happened—I don't know if my father had died, or just decided to settle down somewhere and forget about us. I got a recommendation and joined the academy so I could provide for my family; someone needed to take care of Mom and Granny, and, well ma'am, I was the man of the house."

"They pay you?"

His cheeks reddened a bit. "Not a lot, but whatever I get, I send home. I hope to be an officer someday, and be a man my mom and granny can be proud of."

Tigress smiled. "I'd say you're on the right track, young man."

He blushed and smiled bashfully, "I'm much obliged, Master Tigress, ma'am. Thank you."

"No, thank you," she said with heavy meaning. "Believe me, Quon, I appreciate that you came by. But bear in mind that if your captain, or any of the others had come here asking for forgiveness, they wouldn't have gotten it."

"I don't speak for all of them, but they mean no harm. I know they insulted your friends, but…"

"But you're worried that Tai Lung isn't completely reformed."

He looked at her, shame-faced. "I don't know him; anything you have to say about him—"

"I will only say this much," she said, pausing to collect her thoughts, and to find the right words to say. "I don't like the man. I just don't. I have personal reasons for not liking him, and I hope you'll forgive me for not disclosing them."

"I would never ask such a thing—it's your business, not mine, or anyone else's."

"Thank you. But just because I don't like him doesn't mean I don't respect him. He has done terrible things, yes, but—and I grudgingly admit this—he is still a good man, a good husband to Mei Xing, and, when the time comes, I have a good feeling he'll be a good father, too."

Quon paused, visibly thinking it over, then responded, "This coming from someone who doesn't even like him…that says something."

Tigress smiled. "Tell that to your comrades. They may or may not listen, but it's something."

Quon smiled back. "It most certainly is, ma'am. I wish you the best. Now, um, if you'll forgive my rudeness…"

She understood, nodded, and pointed out the door. "Take a left at the end of the street, then the second right, follow that road to the end, and that'll put you at the main gate. Good luck, Cadet, and stay safe."

He low bowed in respect to her—something none of the other soldiers had ever done—and quickly retreated to meet up with his superiors. He wasn't such a bad sort, she thought. He could have been worse. It helped, she knew, to know that he only entered the military to provide for his family. She respected that; she was sure Dalang would respect that, too. And as she escaped up the stairs to wash up for dinner, Tigress reached a conclusion that she could believe with great earnestness: that Cadet Hu Quon was utterly incapable of lying.

Monkey placed a tile down onto the game board and picked one up, placing it in a pile by his elbow. Mantis rubbed his chin as he contemplated his options. The two had little else to do since Shifu had dismissed them earlier. Crane had gone off to tail the delinquent soldiers, whilst Viper and Tigress had gone out for a girls-only training afternoon. Which, of course, left the two bachelors to their own devices…and since the kitchen was off limits, they had settled in Mantis' room for a "friendly" game of mahjong.

"Damn, you're really beating the pants off me."

Monkey gave him an odd look. "But you don't wear any pants."

Mantis glanced up at him, then made his move. "…And that just made this game really creepy."

The simian's expression soured. "Thanks for ruining my already low opinion of you."

"Success!" Mantis laughed. "I didn't think it could get any lower!"

The two of them laughed as Monkey made his move. The door to the bunkhouse slammed open to allow a very tired and slightly disgruntled Crane into the building. Mantis called through his open door, "Welcome home, lover boy."

"Viper left hot pot noodle casserole in the oven," said Monkey.

"Yeah, great, thanks," the bird said as he took off his straw hat.

"Did they leave?" Monkey asked.

Crane ruffled his feathers once before folding his wings against his body. "Yeah, finally. Even though it was close to dusk, they started crossing the bridge."

"I hope they fall off," Mantis muttered, moving a mahjong piece across the board.

"Don't wish ill of other people," Monkey warned, "unless you want ill to happen to you."

"You know I don't care about that superstition," the insect said, mirroring his simian comrade in a decisive move. He flicked his antennae when he heard Crane sigh heavily. "What's up?"

"Po and Tai Lung don't know about any of this, that's what's up," the bird said shortly. "I should've flown ahead, tried to warn them—"

"Wouldn't do any good," Mantis said. "They took the only map with them, and with winter comin' in, Viper would kill you if you left to fly to Tibet to find an unlisted temple."

"Do you think they made it there okay?" Monkey wondered, looking out the window at the dark sky.

"We just have to hope they did," Crane said, settling between them to watch their game. "Just wish there was more we could do to help them."

"Don't worry, I got that covered," Mantis said, triumphantly gaining the upper hand. As the simian groaned at the loss, the insect allowed himself a smug smile. "I told those soldiers fastest way to get to Tibet."

"You WHAT?" the other two males roared.

"Relax, relax," he said, holding up his pincers in a placating way. "I told them to take the Red Bird Pass."

"The what?" Monkey asked.

"Wait…" Crane haltingly said. "I know that pass—" Then he gasped in horror. "Mantis, you didn't!"

"Didn't what?"

"Mantis," the bird snapped, "That pass is dangerous! No one in my clan even dares to fly by there! The chance for mudslides and rockslides, bandits and highwaymen, not to mention the weather—there hasn't been a single record in the past century that said anyone survived the entire pass from start to finish!"

Mantis thinly smiled. "Exactly."

Crane settled into horrified silence as he regarded his old friend in a new light. "How could you? You sent five men to their deaths, and you're sitting here playing mahjong like its nothing?"

"Crane," said Mantis, in a tone that left no room for interpretation. "I was a wandering warrior long before I joined this little team of ours. In that time, I fought with men like that. I fought against men like that. Those men would follow Zang to the end of the world, and men like that are dangerous. I'm lucky I lived through those battles. You might think I'm a monster, but I'm glad to see the backs of their heads; the less men like that in the world, the better off we all are." He looked across the table at Monkey, who seemed to carry the same stony silence as his avian ally. Monkey, however, did not look as torn up about possibly losing Zang to a horrible demise courtesy of Mother Nature.

Crane just shook his head at them, speechless. "I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything." The insect picked up a piece to move, but hesitated and thought over his choice. "Just keep in mind," he said as he set his piece down, "That if Zang doesn't have the 'Okay' from the Emperor…who's to say how he'd treat Po and Tai Lung if or when he finds them?"

"He wouldn't kill them," Crane said definitively.

Monkey made a face. "I am not so sure…he seemed dead-set on seeing Tai Lung suffer."

"Having met Vachir, though, years ago," Mantis said. "Well…I don't wish what happened to him on my worst enemy, and I know you're not supposed to speak ill of the dead but…the guy was a prick."

"But nobody deserves what he got."

The insect shrugged. "Depends on who you ask."

Crane stared at him. "You don't think Tai Lung would actually…?"

Mantis and Monkey shared a look, then quickly looked back at their game. Crane caught the glance. "…He wouldn't. No, he went down a dark path before, but he's…"

"Crane," Monkey sharply interrupted, then lowered his voice and whispered, "This doesn't leave this room."

"Are you sure we should—" Mantis started to ask before Monkey cut him off.

"Shh! We might as well." The simian looked at Crane and said, "After the Jiao War, me and Mantis helped treat Tai Lung's wounds. On his arms and legs, he had a bunch of scars. Real bad scars. Old scars."

Crane narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How come I've never seen—?"

"His fur's too thick to see them, unless you're really looking," Mantis explained, though every word was forced, as if he truly didn't want to say anything. "I was looking for acupuncture nerve points on his arm for pain relief, and that's how I found the first ones. Older ones looked like lash marks, some of the newer ones looked like he'd been stabbed or cut a couple times, by small instruments…but its hard to tell."

Crane stared at the two of them in horror. Whipping was one thing, but stabbing and cutting? "Are you saying what I think you are?"

"Shifu's training might be insane in anyone's eyes," Mantis said, shaking his head, "But there is no way Tai's training could have caused those scars."

"You think he was tortured? While in prison?"

"Where else would it've happened?" Monkey asked. "Looking at those scars, looks like Commander Vachir really didn't like him. Sure, Tai Lung did bad things…but if it was me, and not him…" the primate looked exceedingly guilty, "I would probably want to kill the Commander, too."

Crane was dumbstruck, and looked between them. "Does Shifu know? Or Viper, or Tigress? Or…anyone?"

"That's the thing," Mantis said with a helpless shrug. "We don't know. I don't know if Tai knows we know. We don't know how bad it was, and…" he hesitated. "Honestly? If he doesn't want to talk about it, I don't blame him. He'll talk about it when he's ready."

"But…but I don't understand it," the bird said, still reeling. "Why would he keep something like that a secret?"

Mantis shrugged. "Maybe he was raped?"

Monkey made a disgusted noise, picked up his next game piece and said, "Okay, one, that is a totally over-used cliché; not everyone gets raped in prison. And two, those guards would've been too scared of him to try it anyway."

"Be probably near impossible, too," Crane said. "You ever see the drawings of that device that kept him immobile? The thing covered half of his whole body. If…that were even possible…there'd have to be some pretty creative ways to—you know what, I'm not going to think about it. It's too ridiculous anyhow."

"C'mon, guys, he was in prison for twenty stinkin' years," Mantis said. "There had to be something goin' on."

"Like torturous beatings?" Monkey posited as he made his next move.

Mantis countered both the game move and his argument. "He wouldn't have been so savage about killing them if it was just beatings—I think we all know that."

"No, it's just you," Crane said. "And we don't even know that he actually was tortured by the Anvil of Heaven. Whatever proof of that died with Vachir, and Tai Lung's obviously not talking." He yawned and cracked his shoulders. "I'm going to bed; don't stay up too late."

Unfortunately for Crane, sleep wasn't exactly forthcoming. His conversation with his two friends kept running over and over again in his head, and slowly, his mind filled with doubt. Even as he tried to dismiss it, the idea kept coming back to him. Was it possible? Had he really been…?

"Honey, are you still awake?"

Crane shook himself awake and noticed Viper watching him in the dim light of their dark room. He sighed and settled back onto the bed. "Sorry, sweetie, I just have a lot on my mind."

"Tai Lung, you mean?"

Gods, was she ever right! "Yeah."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," she said, coiling up next to him. "Besides, he's got Po with him."

"Yeah."

"Okay, you seem really distracted."

"It's a lot of things, Viper." He looked over at her, "Its Po's vision, and their being an empire away while we're preparing for Heaven-knows-what, and now there's some sadistic freak out to get Tai Lung…and maybe Mei Xing, too. This whole thing bothers me." He sighed and sourly muttered, "Maybe I should've pushed them off the bridge…"

"Crane!" she gasped. "How could you say—why on earth would you say something like that?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…just thinking about what Monkey, Mantis and I were talking about earl—" He stopped, and inwardly cursed himself. He'd said too much, he knew it.

"About what?"

"What?"

"What were you talking about?"

"We were…" Should he tell her? Would there be any harm…? "We think Tai Lung might've been tortured…while in prison." When she didn't immediately respond, he continued, "But you can't tell—"

"Are you out of your damn mind?" she nearly shrieked. "This cracks the case wide open! Do you think the Emperor would—"

"He wouldn't because there's no proof that it actually happened," Crane said.

"So what makes you think that?"

"Mantis said he found scars on Tai Lung's arms and legs, scars that looked like lash marks…like from a whip or a flail. And Monkey found scars that looked like cuts and stab wounds…"

Viper said, brokering no argument, "We have to tell Shifu."

"And what if we're wrong?"

"He's our friend, Crane; there's got to be something…"

"Tai Lung doesn't know that we suspect that, though. We could be way off—he could've gotten those scars from another battle before prison."

"But if it was torture—"

"He would have to be the one to tell us."

"Doesn't he trust us enough to tell us?"

"If it were me, and if I were tortured for twenty years…I'd find it hard to trust anybody."

Viper fell silent, and Crane could tell that his wife was severely bothered by this conversation. The avian sighed heavily and pulled the serpent into his wings. "Look, I'm not completely refuting it, but I'm not saying it's true, either. If it did happen, it's up to Tai Lung to tell us."

"But why would he keep it from us?" she asked fretfully. "He's our friend. Doesn't he trust us?"

Any other day, Crane would have answered "yes, of course he does". But this whole topic had him wondering if that were actually the case. He wanted to say that the snow leopard trusted Po, but what if he was wrong? In fact, was it entirely possible that he trusted anyone at all?

Just because he was no longer an omega did not mean that Lang had let his guard down. Lan Duo's offer for training in pole arms was…suspicious, but welcome. Bao Nu suddenly offering pointers on weight training and throwing punches made him wary, but he was aware that this knowledge could be a boon to him. But suddenly Yu Wang offered to teach him effective assassination techniques, and Tan Lan offered to teach him stealth, and Xu Jiu wanted to show him the finer points of his style (which, Lang thought, was odd because he had never seen the latter fight; he was usually eating all the time). Zi Hao still hated him, but at least he knew where the black wolf stood. The others…well, Lang was finding that he and Koshchei shared a lot of the same beliefs.

He had told him so when Koshchei brought up Bao Nu's offer to him. "I don't trust him either," he'd said. "Something doesn't smell right."

"I am glad to know this," the Amur leopard had told him with a straight face and a serious tone. "We must not be letting these volfs pull vool ova eyes, yes?"

Ironically, a wolf in sheep's clothing was exactly what worried him. These same men had terrorized him and placed bets on when and how he'd end up dead; the chances of them suddenly liking him were about as likely as a turtle winning a foot race against a rabbit. But he had joked at the time, "I bet the others will start offering services too. Once Hao offers help, then I know I'll be in trouble."

Now, by his own estimation, he was in deep trouble. Five of the six were now on his side—or so he hoped—and once Zi Hao made the jump, a coup was certain. And they expected him to fall for it. They expected him to trust them. Bull shit, after the way they treated me? Not even Duo's given me reason to trust him.

Koshchei was of the same mind. Of what little he spoke with the leopard, the wolf youth knew he had to think fast on his feet, and think faster than any of them. He wasn't the smartest of wolves, but he figured if he played the part of a naïve and overly trusting pup, he could pull the wool over their eyes instead.

That was when he thought of a rather brilliant plan. Low self-esteem told him it wasn't a brilliant plan, but that would quickly change.

Well into the middle of Shaanxi, Lang conferred with Koshchei a little idea that had been gestating for a few days:

"Our odds kinda suck right now."

"Explain," the leopard said.

"Well, I was just thinking that there's only eight of us against two schools-full of kung fu students," he shrugged nonchalantly, "male and female, not to mention the Furious Five, the Dragon Warrior, Tai Lung…yeah, a lotta warriors. Not good odds on a good day, right?" The scrawny wolf noticed that Koshchei wasn't the only one paying attention: the Half Dozen had also perked their ears. Clearly they had been thinking along the same lines.

"So," Lang continued, "We need reinforcements. Eight of us against a village-full of warriors…means we need a village-full, too."

"You mean an army," Koshchei said. "Ve haff little time to pull together army."

Lang shrugged. "Maybe. But I heard of an inn not too far from here, where a bunch of unsavory types go. We don't have to tell them about the Five or anything, but say we know a way to get into the Valley and plunder it. You want Dalang, we want the Dragon Warrior…those schmucks can be a decoy to get them isolated."

Koshchei abruptly stopped, his jaw hanging open. Lang swallowed hard, thinking he had overstepped his rather unclear boundaries. But the leopard surprised him when he looked at the wolf, grinned and said, "…Brilliant. Yes, yes is brilliant! Vhy did not I think of it? Yes, ve go to inn! Ve get army as decoy!" He took Lang by the shoulders and kissed both cheeks before ruffling the fur on his head. "Brilliant malchik! Brilliant! Am so proud!"

Lang allowed himself a smile. He'd done something right? Seeing the wide, luminous smile on the old leopard's face, the young wolf grinned. He'd done something right! And he could have sworn he was seeing things, but it looked like Lan Duo had a proud smile on his face, too.

It took them another day to reach the inn Lang had mentioned. Yu Wang had told Koshchei it was his old stomping grounds, and that, if necessary, he could do the negotiations. Now, Yu Wang was a smooth son-of-a-bitch—literally—who almost always got what he wanted. He was slighter and slimmer than most wolves, but this served his purpose as an assassin; he could get in and get out of a sticky situation as slippery as an eel in mud. Unlike the other wolves in the sextet, he was also a lighter shade of grey, almost white, which lent him a rather regal appearance, and he used this to his advantage when gaining his victims' trust.

His extended offer to help Lang, in fact, had nothing to do with any form of respect for the former omega. The impression he got from Duo was pretty reasonable: get on the kid's good side, and get on the leopard's good side. Kiss up to the "pack leader", and get a bigger share of the kill. That's how their ancient ancestors did it, that's how their parents did it, and by the gods that how his generation did it…and it had worked pretty well so far.

Though he doubted Lang had a single deceitful bone in his body, he knew Bao Nu wasn't kidding when he said the potential was there. Deceit was learned, not instinctual. The only time he'd been out-foxed—for lack of better phrase—was the day he had met Tan Lan.

Tan Lan was a rather small wolf, clearly from the low lands, and possibly had some Mongolian in him. He lacked the finesse Yu Wang had inherited, but he made up for lack of skill in killing for a veritable cornucopia of connections, both social and financial. Unlike Yu Wang, who had come from a family of assassins (it was family lore that his own mother, an hour after having given birth to her only son, had wrapped him in swaddling clothes, strapped him to her back, and then assassinated a dozen men in the same night), Tan Lan was a mercenary first, assassin next. The last warlord he'd worked for had—ironically—been assassinated by Yu Wang himself. For someone who had just lost his livelihood, Tan Lan was remarkably cool about it. In fact, he had bowed to Wang to acknowledge his skill. And then he stabbed him. The little bastard.

Ah, but the best partnerships were often founded on rather rocky footing, and Lan proved to be an excellent partner. Wang was surprised to find that many of his new partner's connections were within his own family. There wasn't a single warlord who had never received at least a calling card from Tan Lan. Except Jiao Shen, of course. Most importantly for a mercenary, their names had gotten around. This troubled Wang, being from a family that prided privacy above all other virtues, but Lan loved it; Wang supposed he shouldn't have complained too much, after all, it was how they'd ended up working for White Wolf.

Now however they were back at his old stomping grounds, and Yu Wang was in his element. His family was notorious around here, and carried more influence than the governor. As soon as he walked in, people recognized him. But while Yu Wang mingled and introduced the other wolves to old acquaintances, Asmodei Koshchei took advantage of his one chance to put Lang's plan in motion.

Koshchei meandered through the crowded main hall and up to the bar next to a surly-looking crocodile. The leopard ordered a drink, and as he waited, he smirked at the croc. "Going south for vinter, yes?"

The croc eyed him carefully, then responded with a growling voice, "Yeah. Sounds like you're doin' the same, old man. Northern winters that bad?"

"Ach, I am old man, and cold is…eh, not so good for old bones, da?" Koshchei joked. "You see me and volfs back dere," he said, thumbing over his shoulder at Lang and the Half Dozen. "They come vit me; to travel alone is not smart—and Gansu is not so much good place in vinter."

"You ain't lyin'; ain't a good place any time of the year," the croc said dismally. "But I ain't stupid enough to go real far south."

"Vhy is that, friend?" the leopard asked.

"C'mon, Old-timer, haven't you heard of the Furious Five?"

Koshchei's eyes brightened and a wide, cruel smile slowly grew on his lips. Suddenly, he decided an addendum to Lang's plan would work in his favor… "You are, as they say, enemy of Five?"

"I hope they rot in hell," the croc swore. "Especially Mantis."

Koshchei had a hard time hiding his glee at his sudden good luck. "Is interesting you mention Five…"

"Yeah, why's that?" the croc said suspiciously.

Koshchei only shrugged and picked inspected his black claws. "I have, eh, interesting proposition. Volfs and I go to Valley of Peace; I haff, eh…business vit Jiao Dalang."

The croc gaped at him, then laughed nervously. "Good luck, Mac! You know he's married to Master Tigress, right? She'd kill you!"

"If I am alone, maybe. Vit large number…maybe not so much?" Koshchei paused, giving the croc a significant look. "You are seeing vhat I am meaning?"

The croc had gone still, staring flabbergasted at the leopard, then a similar cruel smile grew across his long face, exposing all his sharp teeth. "Yeah, I think I get what you're sayin'."

"Now only problem," the leopard said, calmly accepting his drink. "Is finding enough numbers to take Furious Five…and maybe Dragon Varrior…maybe Tai Luung; maybe him, less. You know good place I find interested men?"

"I'll do ya one better, buddy." The croc brought his claws to his mouth and let out three sharp whistles. The other patrons ceased their chattering and looked in the croc's direction. Lang and the Half Dozen also turned to stare, and Lang felt the blood drain from his face; for some reason, he couldn't beat back the sense of impending doom. The reptile raised his voice and bellowed, "Who here's got a beef with the Furious Five? Raise yer hands, raise 'em high!"

Every single hand in that room shot up high into the air…except for the seven wolves in Koshchei's employ. They were lucky enough to have avoided such a fight thus far.

"Okay," the croc continued. "Who here wants revenge on the Furious Five?"

Not a single hand was lowered…in fact, a few shot up even higher.

The croc pointed right at Koshchei. "You guys want revenge, talk to this guy. He's after Jiao Dalang—"

"And rest of Five up for grab," Koshchei shouted above him. "Leave Dalang for me—rest of them, is, how you say, 'open season'?"

The silence in the room evaporated into a cacophony of chairs scraping against the floor, and hundreds of pairs of feet and hooves making right towards the leopard.

Even Zi Hao was flabbergasted. He looked at the other six wolves, who looked back at him and each other with shock and awe. Yu Wang set his jaw but said nothing, though it hurt to think that a complete stranger to this land carried more flak than Wang's family name. Lang was the first one to say anything: "Wow…I guess they have more enemies than we thought."

"No shit," Bao Nu said. "There's gotta be at least a hundred there…"

"And if they leave and tell their buddies about his offer," Xu Jiu said, similarly in awe. "…Who knows how big that army will be?"

"No kidding," Lan Duo said. He lightly punched Lang's skinny shoulder. "Good call, kid."

"Yeah," Tan Lan nodded in agreement, "Really good call."

Lang just shrugged, feeling the heat of Zi Hao's glare boring into his back like a pickax through stone. "It's not that big a deal…I just figured someone else should fight the Furious Five, and keep 'em busy so we can focus on other stuff…like looting and stuff."

"Good in my book," Tan Lan said with a shrug.

"That's good in anyone's book," a silky voice purred. The wolves all turned to the dark booth they had been standing in front of; none of them had noticed there was anyone in there, but now upon closer inspection…

Lang jumped and yelped when something grabbed his arm. He came face-to-face with sparkling blue eyes and a keen, sneaky grin that flashed snow-white fangs. "Hey, cutie," the blue-eyed female winked.

"Well, hello, ladies," Yu Wang smirked. "Why didn't you girls speak up sooner?"

"Oh, were you speaking to us?" the same silky voice said. The owner of said voice also sported uniquely garnet-red eyes and a smile as sly as her sister's. "We are not girls by any stretch of the imagination, gentlemen."

"Oh, I believe it," the lustful wolf grinned, eyeing the oldest sister hungrily. "We're your names?"

Wu Tian sat forward and rested her chin in her palm. "I might ask you the same question, handsome. Are you with that old cat down there?" she asked, her red eyes flicking to the bar below.

"Maybe," Yu Wang said with an odd grin. "Are you interested in his offer?"

"Maybe," she said, the same furtive smile ghosting her lips. "But I don't sign up for anything until I know exactly what I'm getting into…or until I know what's getting into me, whatever the case may be."

The other wolves gaped at her turn of phrase, but Yu Wang was in his element. He smiled suggestively, leaning against the table and blatantly flirting (and making Lan Duo gag), "Is that a fact? What if I promised that you—and your lovely companions, of course—to all manner of riches, power, fame…?"

"Money and power are nice," the green-eyed Wu Jiang spoke up. "But a lot of people know who we are already."

"Perhaps, madame," Yu Wang smiled at her, "You would indulge my curiosity?"

The three snow leopardesses shared a look between them, then silently agreed to let Tian be their spokesperson. "I am Tian, and this is my sister Jiang, and my youngest sister, Zhu. If you haven't guessed already, we are the Wu Sisters."

"Whoa…" Lang gasped. "The Wu Sisters?"

Tian's smile widened, and a light coloring on her cheeks told that she was actually flattered from the young wolf's attention…and yet she had shown no such affection towards Yu Wang. "So you have heard of us. That's a Gansu accent, isn't it? I didn't know we were so famous there."

"Oh, you're infamous," Lang nodded. "Not even my old master would've crossed you!"

"How sweet," Tian smiled. "Are you someone's apprentice?"

Lang nodded and pointed down to the Amur leopard. "Him—he's been great, much nicer than anyone else I've known."

Tian noted that the other wolves had stiffened and firmly set their jaws, and the one black wolf looked to be a hairsbreadth away from physically attacking the youth. The rather amoral-looking one, especially, looked to be holding back on some strong words of his own. "How interesting. Tell me, is he offering any pay?"

"Uh, well…" Lang hesitated.

"So far," Tan Lan spoke up quickly, "All he's offering is the glory of defeating—and maybe killing—the Furious Five. And plunder from the Valley of Peace alone would be all the payment anyone needs."

"I am inclined to agree," Tian said. "As my sisters and I have some…issues with Master Tigress, specifically."

"Well hey, that's great!" Lang said. "I mean, Koshchei wants to get Dal—"

"Koshchei?" Tian shrieked. Zhu gasped and Jiang started in alarm. "Asmodei Koshchei," Tian demanded. "That is who you're working for?"

"Yeah, I know, he's got a reputation…" Lang said, holding up his hands in a placating manner, "But he's been nothing but nice to me. The only people he's ever hurt deserved it, and as long as you respect him, he's cool."

The three snow leopardesses stared incredulously at the young wolf. Then Tian put her hands on her sisters' shoulders. "Girls, conference." They immediately huddled and discussed. The seven male wolves stood back, giving each other questioning glances while the females deliberated. A couple times, Wu Jiang's voice rose up with an angry hiss, indicating her supreme displeasure. Wu Zhu's soft tones suggested she was worried, but perhaps also playing Devil's advocate. Wu Tian was mostly silent on the matter, listening to her sisters' comments, though it seemed that despite whatever misgivings they had, she had already made her decision.

"All right," she finally said. "We're game. But we'd like to meet our new boss, if you can arrange that," she said with a sweet smile at Lang. Lang nodded and turned to grab Koshchei, not noticing the venomous look Yu Wang was sending his way. The wolves all followed the youth to the floor where Koshchei was being mobbed by outlaws eager to take down their most reviled enemy.

"I hope you know what you're doing, sis," Jiang muttered.

"Trust me, girls," Tian whispered, keeping a wary eye on both Lang and his 'master'. "I've got a very good idea."

"But what about our orders?" Jiang asked. "Our boss won't be happy."

"Hang our boss," Tian hissed. "This is too good of an opportunity."

"Our target is Zang Deshi, not Asmodei Koshchei, remember?" Jiang said as she glowered at her sister. "Even if he is worth more dead than Zang is, I like having my hide where it is, and my money where that is."

"Not to mention they're going after the Dragon Warrior!" Zhu fretfully whispered. "And Tai Lung! Sis, I told you, we should've gone after them! We could've warned—"

"I am not going to listen to this, Zhu!" Tian hissed back, feeling apologetic when her youngest sister flinched. "We all know how we feel about those two, but this is our chance. And by the gods, I am not passing this up."

"At what cost?" Jiang asked. "Tian, not only are we going against direct orders, but if we join him, we're selling our souls to the devil, here."

"You know the stories as well as I do," Tian said, idly inspecting her claws. "All we need to do is find his 'egg' and destroy it."

"But to join his army?" Zhu squealed. "How is that going to help?"

"Zhu, stop!" Tian shushed. "Remember what Mother taught us. Keep your friends and family close…" and here her eyes flicked over to Koshchei, who felt her gaze and met it with his own cold, cruel blue stare. After a long, tense moment, where Tian felt the hairs rising on the back of her neck, Koshchei smiled warmly at her and waved, as if greeting a long-lost friend. Still feeling chills, Tian smiled and waved back. "…And keep your enemies even closer."

Captain Zang Deshi was not amused, nor pleased, nor any applicable synonyms thereof. As a matter of fact, he was absolutely livid. The war horse had not expected Tai Lung's family and friends (more to the point, he was rather surprised the snow leopard had any friends) to be open with him, but he also had not expected the Valley's citizens to fully support the snow leopard, either. Every time he or one of his men had said anything remotely condescending about the Master of the Thousand Scrolls, they were either glared at, cursed at, or on one occasion asked to leave the establishment and never return. One citizen, a bull carpenter who had worked with Tai Lung in the Long and Feng restaurant's renovation, got so mad at Zang himself that the horse swore he would end up impaled on that bull's horns.

He couldn't understand it. He just could not understand it. Why in Heaven's name would these people support and protect a cold-blooded murderer? Did his sins mean nothing to them? The black horse knew full well that the attention spans of most plebeians only extended as far as the next harvest, and he theorized that their memories were similarly lacking.

Being personally kicked out of the Valley by Master Shifu and the Furious Five didn't help ease his temper, either. And he was well aware that Master Crane had followed them to the outskirts of the village; he bristled at the thought that he—he!—was being treated as a criminal! He, Zang Deshi, Captain Zang Deshi, treated as a criminal! Had he not spent the last thirty years protecting China's borders? Had he not fought heroically at the Battle of the Black Cliffs? Had he not served his country and his emperor with an almost fanatical devotion? Had he not shown more devotion to his own comrades, rank, and ruler than his own family? Well, say what you want, he stubbornly thought, I know I've more honor in my left hoof than those people have in their whole bodies!

They had crossed the Thread of Hope in record time, considering, and now they were back right where they started: in the middle of a dense pine forest; Zang had nothing on the snow leopard that he didn't already know, and what little he had learned (he had a lot of friends, and preferred his tea black) was of little to no use to him. He supposed he could have used Tai Lung's wife and unborn child as leverage, but seeing the vast support network the snow leopardess had stayed his hand; he didn't fancy going up against a literally furious quintet of kung fu warriors…or her father-in-law. Or Jiao Dalang, for that matter.

Snorting, he marched on at the head of the column, his men plodding along behind him in complete silence. They didn't need to say what was on their minds, they knew his plan hadn't worked. If anything, they had gained enemies instead of allies, and at a time like this, it was a fateful and perhaps deadly error. Liu and Gao kept their respectful silence and allowed their commanding officer to brood. Sergeant Kong and Cadet Hu had scouted ahead, but it was really an excuse to get away from the black horse's sour mood. He was fine with that; he didn't particularly want to see them anyway, especially the cadet.

Zang knew Quon had gone back to the restaurant, probably to apologize. The boy was spineless like that. Not entirely surprising, as he had been raised by women. If he was going to make it in the army, the boy had to grow a thick skin, and learn to stop apologizing. A real soldier didn't apologize for every little mistake. They weren't above the law—they were the law, and no one apologized for the law.

He heard Liu hiss sharply through his teeth. He stopped and turned to look at the bay horse. The lieutenant was glancing around, and held his arm up to signal them. Zang felt his blood freeze in his veins. They had been followed, and they were being watched. With a curse, he realized too late what had happened.

He would later barely recall the next few heart-stopping minutes. There was a deep guttural braying, and a sharp warning shout, then two sickening thuds in the undergrowth. Then one last, final agonized cry before the thick forest around them fell into an oppressive silence. The next thing he knew he was running, running in the direction of the sounds, and had stopped short in a clearing…and what he saw would be engrained in his mind for the rest of his days.

Kong was dead. The gorilla lay on his back, his body still twitching, and though he still breathed, it was obvious from the gurgling and the gushing blood from his throat that he was as good as dead. His eyes, normally glassy and shallow anyway, were open but seeing nothing.

The horse's attention next found Quon, his body contorted in a gruesome position on the moss-covered rocks. The tiger's sword had been half-way unsheathed. He had tried to fight, both of them had, judging by the wounds on Kong's thick fingers. Zang almost missed Gao's proclamation, "Quon's still alive!"

Zang let out a breath just as Kong breathed his last. Liu had tried to stopper the blood without success, and for the first time Zang understood the cliché of 'efforts being in vain'.

He vaguely remembered giving orders to pitch a tent for the dead and wounded, and only barely remembered scanning the trees desperately for any sign of what had happened. All he found were his men's footprints and disturbed earth and broken rocks…and a bloody dagger in the underbrush. It was not one he recognized, which meant its make was private, not imperial issue; it was thin, sleek, and sharper than any army knife…an assassin's blade.

And now, hours later, Zang knelt in the tent between the prone bodies of his two lowest-ranking recruits. He was not happy in the slightest, but he wasn't angry; he felt…numb. He couldn't remember the last time a death had left him feeling this way. Liu had done all he could for Kong, using an old canvas tent as a funeral shroud. The cut on his throat had been far too deep for anything to save him. Quon, on the other hand, was stable. The worst he'd gotten was a nasty blow to the head, but even Liu, who was the resident medic, had to concede the boy wasn't out of the woods yet.

Zang looked back at the tiger youth and ran over the facts again in his head. Quon had been out cold ever since they had discovered him. His sword had been partially drawn. Whoever had done this had been too fast for even the quickest reflexes to react. Kong didn't have quick reflexes, but he had still put up a good fight.

The black warhorse glanced back at the shrouded body of the sergeant and shook his head in woe. There weren't any footprints but for Kong's and Quon's, he reminded himself; whoever had attacked his men had done so from the air, perhaps the trees. It was assassin's work, that much was certain. Deep in his gut, the horse knew that the Wu Sisters and their ilk were not too far away from their current position. He conceded that he had not been as discrete as he could have been, and the results of that lay dead and wounded on either side of him.

He nearly jumped when Quon let out a low groan, the youth's face twisting into an agonized grimace. Zang moved a little closer to the boy and whispered his name, mindful that head injuries might make him more sensitive to light and sound:

"Quon, if you can hear me, answer me."

The tiger winced and rolled his head to the side. After another groan, he weakly replied. "Hi, Captain."

"Praise the gods," Zang said, visibly relieved. "Do you know where you are?"

"The…trail, somewhere?" he guessed. "Something happened, sir. Sergeant—"

Zang sighed. "The sergeant is dead, Quon. You were both attacked. Did you see who did it?"

"Attacked?" the youth asked, struggling to open his eyes. "H-How? I…I thought the sergeant had—"

"Had what?" Zang asked. Quon didn't immediately answer him. "Had what, Cadet?"

"I…" Quon paused, and turned his face away, ashamed, "We were arguing…and I said something I regret. I thought he hit me for being disrespectful… He's dead? How?"

"That's not important," Zang said. "But I want to be clear: you never saw who hit you?"

"Sir, I thought it was the sergeant. How did he die? We were alone—"

"Evidently, that's not true," the horse said as he looked back at the gorilla's covered body. He looked back when he heard a sniff. Quon had opened his eyes and was looking away, his face wan. Zang instinctively knew what was wrong. "There was nothing you could have done. If your attacker had been fast enough to beat your reflexes, you wouldn't have stood a chance; none of us would have. You're lucky to be alive."

"But he's dead because of me, sir," Quon said, his voice croaking with emotion. "It's my fault. If I wasn't arguing, I would've heard—"

"This is not your fault, Cadet. This could have happened to more seasoned soldiers." He rested his hand on the tiger's shoulder. "Cadet, effective immediately, I order you to stop blaming yourself for Sergeant Kong's death. His passing was unfortunate, but not unexpected. We are in a dangerous time and a dangerous territory. For now, rest, get your strength back. The lieutenant will bring you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry, sir," the tiger dismally said.

"You're confusing that with a request. Don't do that again." With that, Zang crawled out of the tent and closed the flaps behind him to allow the tiger some peace. Rubbing his tired eyes, he sat at the fire Gao had made. Warming himself against the flames, the warhorse addressed the remaining officers. "We need to find a safer place to make camp. It's too open here."

"There's that inn we stayed at not too far from the Thread of Hope," Liu offered. "I can get medicine there much more readily. The cadet might recover faster in a better bed."

Gao snorted, offering weak tea to his commanding officer. "He won't do that—the kid's physically weak, but he's stubborn; he won't like us showing him any favoritism."

"Too bad," Zang said. He nodded at Liu, "We'll go to the inn. I need to write to the widow, and to send word to an associate of mine in Yunnan. We won't be able to get Tai Lung in Tibet, but we still have allies."

"You sure that's a good idea?" Gao said. "You told us not to trust anyone outside our group."

"Yes, but as you can plainly see," the black horse sneered, "Our numbers have gotten smaller, of late. We haven't been as discrete as we should, and a large part of that is my fault. We need to step back, let someone else dirty their hands."

"Or flush them out," Liu said. "I interviewed Master Shifu—he didn't tell me a whole lot, just showed me the artifacts in that Sacred Hall place…and one of those paintings gave me an idea, if you're open to ideas, sir."

"At this point, I have little choice. Proceed."

The chestnut bay outlined his plan: "See, there was this kung fu guy, Master Frog, who developed a form of fighting that didn't involve offense at all."

"How the hell does that work?" Gao wondered. "There's always an aggressor."

"—But it isn't him. The whole premise is to 'let the fly come to you'. Frogs lie on lily pads and catch the flies as they come to them. Pretty lazy, I admit, but it works. Master Frog was the most successful—and longest lived—kung fu master in history, after Oogway of course."

Zang's expression brightened, and a smile slowly grew on his thin lips. "Of course…the frog is a hunter, but rather than chase the prey, he lures it in…just like a spider lures in a fly…and gentlemen, that's exactly what we'll do." He stared into the flames, seeing his plan unfolding in his mind's eye.

Capturing Tai Lung was now a certainty. What could possibly go wrong?

"What could go wrong, he says…"

"Shut up."

"What's the worst that could happen, he says…"

"Screw you."

"You wish, Baby Bear."

"Not cool, dude."

"Oh cheer up. This is just the perfect blackmail!"

"You wouldn't dare."

"What? I wouldn't dare tell everyone we know just how brilliantly your plan backfired? And you've known me for how long?"

Po finally tore himself away from the wall and the hidden door slammed shut behind him. Flustered, he shook out his robes and glared into the darkness. "Give me some slack, I don't think well on an empty stomach."

"Oh boohoo, cry me a river, panda."

"Tai, when I get my hands on you, I swear I'll—where are you, anyway?"

"I'm right here."

"What, here?"

"No, not there."

"Then where?"

"You're the one who's supposed to see light in the darkest cave; you tell me."

"Prick."

"Yes I am. Idiot."

"How am I an idiot?"

"Whose bright idea was it to leave the candle on the other side of the wall?"

"How does Mei Xing put up with you?"

"Oh, that's cold."

Po sighed and leaned back against the hidden door. "Great. So we're stuck here."

"What d'you mean we're stuck?" Tai Lung grilled. "I thought you said you had this under control."

"I did, until the door closed all the way."

The darkness fell oppressively silent, and Po ached to hear Tai Lung's breathing, but strangely, that wasn't what he heard. Not at first, anyway.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" the snow leopard hissed.

"Three jiao," Po tallied.

"That's as far as your plan went? What the hell are we supposed to do, Po?"

"Willya gimme a minute? I'm thinking."

"You could have done that before you decided using your body to stop a solid slab of rock. Brilliant plan, absolutely genius!"

"Hey, some of the best minds had the most scatterbrained appearances. Look at Master Oogway!"

"One, Oogway is in a category all his own, and two, you are in no way anything like him, so there is no good to compare. And now, by the way, you've gone and broken your ribs again, I'm sure."

"Actually, I'm feelin' okay. But I know I can just come to you now—"

"Oh no. Not a snowball's chance in Hell. I've no problem healing accidents, but you brought that upon yourself. You can suffer for your own stupidity."

"What? Don't you want to touch my body? My sexy, sexy body? Do you think I'm sexy, Tai?"

"Panda, if I could see you, I would kill you on principle, and there is not a judge or jury in the world that would convict me."

"Did you hear that?"

"Oh forget it, I'm not falling for it."

"No, seriously, listen."

The darkness fell into silence again, and both ursine and feline strained their ears to listen. Po had heard something, and it sounded like singing, coming from down the corridor before them. And now Tai Lung heard it too. Po heard shuffling, the flapping of robes, and felt a whoosh of air as Tai Lung brushed past him in the pitch-black.

The snow leopard blindly felt along the smoothed walls, slipping here and there on damp stones, but he heard the singing quite clearly. Movement behind him told him that Po was closely following. The further they moved down the corridor, the louder the singing got. It was sweet, melodious, like a flute's notes wafting on the wind in rising and falling inflections. The further they moved, the closer they got, the more the singing sounded…avian to Tai Lung's ears; but what was a song bird doing inside a mountain?

Sooner than they expected, they saw a light up ahead, flickering against the walls. A literal light at the end of the tunnel. They moved closer, and the singing got louder and louder. The melody was in a language neither of them knew, and was too beautiful for words. All they knew was feelings: the song made them feel at once blissfully happy and simultaneously depressed. Despite himself, the snow leopard felt tears stinging his eyes.

They were about to round the corner and find out the identity of the singer. Tai Lung looked back to Po, who was just as entranced. Together, they rounded the corner—

"What the—?"

And stopped dead to find not only a shaft of moonlight raining down from a skylight above their heads, but a massive door to an unknown chamber. The chamber door was easily eight feet long and twelve feet high, and was gilt in gold and what appeared to be garnets and rubies. The precious and semi-precious stones formed a mosaic that had been inlaid in the gold of a magnificent bird with outstretched wings…the same bird they saw painted on the monastery's gate.

Even before they said anything, or moved closer to get a better look, both warriors knew exactly what they were looking at.

"The tomb," Tai Lung breathed. "The Phoenix Warrior's tomb…it has to be!"

Po gawked at the size of the door, and an unmentionable feeling fell over him. He nudged his friend and whispered, "So…what do we do?"

"How do you mean?" he whispered back.

"Well," the panda said, "If this is his tomb, we can't just open it. I mean, I don't want to disturb his final resting place, do you?"

"Yes I do."

"Yes you—what?"

Tai Lung pointed to the door. "All the answers I'm looking for have to be behind that door. I'm so close now, Po, I can smell it!"

"You sure it's not a decaying body that you smell?"

"Look who's sucking out the fun now, eh?"

"Tai, I'm not going to desecrate some guy's final resting place."

"You don't have to; I will."

"What if its booby trapped? You have a wife and kid to go home to—don't risk it."

Tai Lung stared back at the door, briefly illuminated by the moonlit shaft coming from the ceiling…and stared harder when he heard something. He took a step closer, and the sounds—the same singing that had drawn him here—grew louder and louder. And from behind the door—he swore, but wasn't sure if he could believe—there was a light, yellow-orange, framing the massive gold and red portal. The flickering light grew stronger, and brighter, and the singing got louder, and louder—

Tai Lung reached his hand out to touch the door. The light behind the cracks in the door grew ever brighter, and the singing rose to a feverish pitch—

Everything fell silent and dark the moment his fingers touched the jeweled bird's wing. But more to their astonishment…the door moved.

Both warriors jumped back in alarm, gawking as the gilt portal swung inward, as easily as if on well-oiled hinges, with only a minor creaking that echoed down the cavern. Directly inside the door was a single candle set on a wall sconce, somehow flickering in whatever breeze had been afforded to it.

"Tell me I didn't imagine all that?" Tai Lung whispered to Po.

"You mean the freaky light and weird singing suddenly stopping when you touched a huge door that just swung open like no one's business?"

"Yes, that."

A moment longer, they waited, sniffing the air and finding to their great astonishment that there was no hint of decay normally associated with crypts. In fact, the air smelled…sweet, like spring flowers. But the sweetness only masked the stagnancy of old dried paint and chalky dustiness of chiseled stone. Tai Lung crept forward and stood under the candle, peering into the dark shaft ahead of them.

"Do you know what my instincts tell me?" he asked.

"Probably not 'lets get the heck outta here'."

"Right on one."

"Tai, I'm not going into some old dead guy's tomb."

"Po, the man's been dead longer than our family lines have probably existed. He's had to have been reborn by now, and all that's left has to be dust."

"So we run the risk of breathing in dead-guy dust. Not cool."

"Where's that sense of adventure you were so keen on earlier?"

"Kinda got knocked outta me when a wall crushed my ribcage."

Tai Lung turned and glared at him. "This was your idea. And this," he said, pointing into the dark crypt, "holds the key to my destiny. Anything I can learn about my predecessor is all in there. I have spent the past four decades stumbling along through my life without any real direction, and now that I have a chance to find that direction, I'm not passing it up!"

The snow leopard pointed at the panda, "Look at you! You didn't even know you wanted to be the Dragon Warrior and yet here you are! You've accomplished more than I ever could have by your age—"

"I haven't mastered all the scrolls, though."

"Hang the scrolls! Even without mastering all the scrolls, you are a far better warrior than I'll ever be! You heard what Sun Bear told you—you know kung fu as an art. He was right; I never learned of it as an art, and that's why I keep failing. Don't you get it, Po? I'm tired of failing, and I don't want to fail anymore."

Silence fell between them until Po cleared his throat. "Why don't we go in and see what we can find?"

Tai Lung smiled, waited until Po had joined him on the other side of the doorway, then took the candle from the sconce. They both froze, waiting for something to happen, but after a few tense minutes…nothing. The door was still wide open, the moonlight still filtered down from the natural skylight, and dust settled around them. Once certain that they did not face certain death from simply removing a candle from a holder, the pair continued down the corridor to the burial crypt.

The hall was rather short as far as tombs were concerned, but the panda and snow leopard could only imagine how difficult it was to chisel through this solid rock—the builders probably gave up after only a few feet. And sure enough, they came upon a second door, this one smaller, but no less magnificent, than the first. This door, too, was cracked open, leading both of them—especially Tai Lung—to despair. But it didn't make sense; why and how could tomb robbers get down here and plunder it?

But when he pushed open the door and raised the candle up to see inside, both he and Po sucked in a sharp breath at what they saw.

The antechamber was also the burial chamber, and before them in the middle of the rather small room was a large red marble sarcophagus sitting atop an altar carved with ornate markings and words in a script long extinct. The sarcophagus itself gleamed in the candlelight, shining as if it had just been polished. But most surprising was that the lid was completely off the crypt, and, upon closer inspection…the tomb was empty. Absolutely empty.

It felt to Tai Lung like he had been hit in the stomach. There was nothing here. Nothing. No burial artifacts, no books, no scrolls, no offerings, and not even a body! In fact, the way the sarcophagus' lid was leaning against the stone coffin suggested that it had been waiting there for its eternal contents for well over a millennium, and had never been used.

The Phoenix Warrior had not been buried here, and had probably never been here.

And the snow leopard felt—if possible—a greater sense of loss than when he had been denied the Dragon Scroll. He fell to his knees, the candle falling from his nerveless hands.

But instead of going out, the flame found a liquid source that sparked and ignited. A flume of fire shot up right by the snow leopard's hand, then traveled along the bottom of the walls of the tomb, revealing bright painted murals in their wake. The pair were less amazed at the lamp oil in the connected wall sconces of the tomb than they were of what the flames revealed.

The phoenix was everywhere: soaring in between swirling clouds, its wings fluttering in the wind as its long golden peacock's tail flowed behind it like a bride's train. The phoenix perched on a tree branch, its beak opened wide in song. Below these amazing, breathtakingly realistic paintings were mosaic borders of polished semiprecious stone lined with gold that flickered and glowed in the firelight. Twelve red marble sconces in all, one for each of the twelve members of the Zodiac, each in their own respective cardinal direction in the room, burned brightly to display the masterful tomb painting. It took them a moment or two to take in the general grandeur, then another moment to realize that the legend of the Phoenix and the Phoenix Warrior was displayed, right there, right in front of them, on these very walls.

"Whoa," they simultaneously said.

"This is unreal…" Po gasped at the splendor. "I mean, look at this place!"

Tai Lung gazed about the room, breathlessly taking in the murals, dank and mildew-stained, but the paintings were still remarkably clear after a thousand years. Though the colors had faded, at the time of the tomb's construction and completion, the murals must have been very bright indeed. He peered closer, finding that the legend of the Phoenix of the Mountain and the Phoenix Warrior was depicted on the walls, linearly told as the mural wrapped around the four walls. He began to pace along it.

There was the Phoenix, which was being worshipped by the people. There were the invaders, warlords and bandits, and the people in despair. And here… Tai Lung froze, jaw hanging open in shock.

"Po, look at this," Tai Lung said. Po stepped over, lifting the candle (though he needn't have bothered) and both gasped at what they saw.

"Is that…?"

"It has to be," the snow leopard excitedly said. "Look at the regalia, the armor, the banner…"

"So that's what the Phoenix Warrior looked like?" The panda paused, then narrowed his eyes as he looked closer. Then he gasped and paled. "Um, Tai, doncha think that guy looks a little familiar?"

"Who, the Phoenix Warrior?" He held the light closer to the painting; spitting on his fingers, he wiped away grime and dust, scratching a little mold away…and his breath caught in his throat.

In golden and copper armor and a red banner, a dark brown bear raised a sword over his head to bring down on his enemies, while a family huddled safely behind him. The look on the painted bear's face was unmistakable…as were the squinted eyes, and the upper lip curled up into a sneer…

"There's no way…" he breathed. "No bleeding way…"

"Actually, there is."

Po and Tai Lung both jumped, the former dropping the candle in shock. With a flourish of golden robes, a hand suddenly reached out to grasp the candle before it hit the floor…and the intruder raised it to illuminate his face.

Sun Bear smirked at their expressions. "Thought I wouldn't notice, did you? I'm rather disappointed."

"How…?" Tai Lung wanted to ask so many questions that began with that word, but the old bear beat him to the punch. The old master cast his dark-eyed look around the room, sighing tiredly.

"This crypt was built many, many years ago… I've been here so long, I should know how to get into it," the old master explained. His narrowed eyes flicked over to the portrait on the wall, then made a face when his gaze settled upon the armored bear. "I knew I should have fired that artist—I was never that portly, thank you."

After another moment of stunned silence, both warriors came to the same exact realization at the same exact time.

"You mean…" Po groaned and held his head, "I mean…what?"

Tai Lung looked between the mural and the old bear with disbelief. "That's…that can't be… It's impossible. No; no one but Oogway ever lived more than a thousand years! If that's you that would mean…"

Sun Bear waited for him to say it, giving the snow leopard an expectant look. "…That would mean what, Tenzin?"

Tai Lung swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. "That would mean you were the Phoenix Warrior."

Behold! The first of the three Big Reveals!

A/N: Anyone who knows me knows I am a big fan of silly comedies; as an avid Mel Brooks fan, I would be remiss to not include a reference to my favorite scene from "Young Frankenstein" (The revolving wall scene with Gene Wilder and Teri Garr. "Put…the candle…BACK" God, classic.) Mr. Ping's rebuke to Zang is a reference to the Avatar: The Last Airbender episode with Aang's/Kiyoshi's trial; James Hong provided the voice of the judge (Aang: "I'd like to help, but I'm supposed to be boiled in oil." Judge: *changing the sentence* "There! Community service! Now serve our community and get rid of [them]!"). Mr. Lu's treatment of Su Lin is taken from first-hand real-life personal encounters with the general public during my years working retail; and no, sadly, I never could talk back like that. Shifu's "say that to my face" lines are a nod to Nathan Fillion's lines in Firefly episode "The Train Job".

Zang's fighting at the "Battle of the Black Cliffs" is actually an allusion to the legendary "Battle of the Red Cliffs", detailed in the epic story "Romance of the Three Kingdoms". I had to a different but similar-sounding battle, because I don't want to date this story at a specific point in Chinese history and find out later that I'm wrong (my ego's fragile like that…).

And yes, Nievelion, the bull carpenter that wanted to impale Zang on his horns is yet another shout-out to Zhuang :)

A little note on the astrology mentioned earlier in the chapter: all the information about the Chinese Zodiac I've provided are based on very basic sources (read: internet). The sign of the Sheep/Ram/Goat is often associated with the Western sign of Cancer (the Crab), which in itself is associated with the moon, water and femininity. And fine, maybe I like to add a little bit of psychology in there…it's a subject I happen to like, so sue me.