Part XX: Dirge

Ya Zhen’s focusing technique was true to the demon’s word. By channeling their energy into the dantian, the center of chi energy, the party was able to shield themselves from the influences of the dark tunnels. They exited the mines through a narrow opening in the mountain. The moon, a pus-yellow slit barely visible over the roof of the Temple seemed to sneer at them as it slid its way into the oblivion before dawn. At the fringes of the Empire, the setting of the moon heralded the inevitable beginning of day: the moment before the Ascension. The hurried camp of the Empire’s guard lay below, illuminated by lantern and globe light. There was very little time to act.

“We have the advantage of surprise,” Zu said as he marked their position in the snow with his staff. “I found openings in the walls here, and here. There are thirty guards around the perimeter, perhaps another dozen or so hidden, and maybe fifty more men in the buildings. I’m not sure how many are guarding the Temple. The ruins are surprisingly well preserved, but the defenses can work to our advantage. I don’t think these Temples were built to withstand much of a fight. The Monks probably depended on their distance and the mountains to get take care of their enemies. If we can focus them into narrow, defensible breaks, their superior numbers won’t matter — for awhile.”

The Black Whirlwind grunted his approval. “A hundred strong now only because they haven’t met me yet!” boasted The Black Whirlwind.

Zu ignored him and continued to point to his crude map. “Dawn Star, you and Snow will circle this pass to the Temple. Black Whirlwind, Ya Zhen, and I will lead a frontal assault here, where we’ll be visible but defensible. Our attack should give the two of you enough of a distraction to get inside. The rest is up to you to stop that bastard, Sky.” He said this in particular to Snow, and gave her a look of challenge that seemed to promise his spear would be ready if she even blinked the wrong way.

“No pressure,” said Snow, and returned a carefully blank stare. Foolish as a full out frontal assault was, her eyes revealed nothing. But she had to agree it was the best plan they had available. And yet, just the mere mention of Sky’s name made her heart beat faster and a cold sweat formed on her hands. She really couldn’t afford this kind of distraction. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t Sky, it was a monster she was fighting, a murderer, a different person entirely… yet trepidation crept into her heart; a cold shiver snaked down her spine. What would happen when they came to blows? There was no question of if. Could she kill him if need be, this man who looked like Sky?

The Black Whirlwind’s fingers were twitching with glee. “The center of the action — just where I like to be!” he chortled.

“I don’t agree,” said Ya Zhen.

“You have a better plan?” growled Zu.

“Yes, I do.” The demon gave Zu a long, flat stare, deliberately slow, knowing their time was short. “You want to storm the entrance? Go ahead, that is an imperially stupid idea. I’m going to go to the Temple and I do know a better way in.”

“Let me guess,” said Snow, “You’ll only tell us if we take you along?”

“Ironic, isn’t it? Sneaking back into the Temple of your birth through the exact passage Sun Li stole you out of.”

Not a muscle twitched on Snow’s face. But something must have shown in her eyes, because the demon’s smile nearly split Wildflower’s face in half.

“If this passage is so great,” Zu glowered, “Is there some reason we’re not all there right now?”

It reeks of trap, Snow agreed, but out loud she said: “No, I think Ya Zhen has the right idea. That passage is ancient and we don’t know how easy it will be to get all of you into the Temple. It could be a deathtrap for us all if we’re caught. We’ll have better chances if Ya Zhen and I take the Temple.” Snow raised her head haughtily, “After all, don’t they still think I am their ‘Empress’?” She hoped the bravado hid her own reservations. If it was a trap they were walking into, she wanted Dawn Star and Zu to have a chance at escaping.

“Ya Zhen and I know our way around,” she said, looking pointedly at Zu. “We’ve been here before. Dawn Star, you, and Zin Bu need to be here to back The Black Whirlwind. Er, probably mostly just keep him from getting too carried away with the dismembering,” she revised, eying the large man who was enthusiastically making “Whoosh! Krrthuncrchk!” noises out of the corner of his mouth as he mimed a blade in his hands.

“Snow—” Dawn Star began, and then stopped. She recognized that look in her friend’s face, the set in her stance. It was a look that had preceded many battles, and in all but one, Snow had always come back, cut and bleeding, but victorious. It was a look that said, “I need to do this alone.”

Though Dawn Star was no stranger to danger — in her twenty-five years she had lived through her share of war, and loss, and now the impending upheaval of her world — she had also learned the hard way the weight of leadership. There had to be someone the soldier could come back to. And so sometimes you sent your troops into battle, knowing they might not return. And so you stayed behind. It was a lesson more bitter than the blood it spilt, but warriors had to have something to fight for. She wondered if this new Snow had felt the same way about Sky. And did she know how he felt about her? Dawn Star looked into her friends eyes and saw the anguish there, and the determination. She made up her mind. Snow couldn’t afford any other distractions in the fight.

Dawn Star nodded. “Alright.”

“Dawn Star!” hissed Zu.

“You don’t have much time,” she continued, “You’d better go now.”

Zu didn’t like it, but his commander had spoken, and her word was all that there was left to fight for. Snow grasped her friend’s hand fiercely for a moment, palm to elbow and elbow to palm in the gesture of martial respect, and then she and Ya Zhen were gone, back into the darkness of the tunnels.

“I don’t like it,” growled Zu, “Two traitors together? Anything can go wrong.”

Dawn Star bit her lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Zu had voiced the exact fears in her heart, and somehow that made them more real, but she was resolved. And she believed in Snow.

“She’s not the Monshuiye that ours became, Zu, and you know it. She’s like Snow as I remembered her, before all this.” More haunted, and walks with the weight of the Empire on her shoulders, perhaps, Dawn Star mused, “But I believe in her.” She looked boldly into the older man’s eyes, “You said it yourself: what could have happened that day if you had gone back, Zu? If you could have gone with her into the Assassin’s fortress? Would things have been different? Could this have been avoided?” The catch in her voice spoke for everything that had already been lost, and again of what would have been.

“Dawn Star,” without thinking, his hands reached out and caught hers and held the two fiercely together. “I…”

“I know.” Her smile was soft, worn. Her hands were so small, so small, he thought. Lines of worry and patience had etched themselves into the corners of her young face. The pain broke his heart. All he had ever wanted to do was make that pain go away. He bowed his head. “I should have died for you,” he muttered into the collar of his robe, I should have been the one to die that day.”

“Zu…” She leaned into him, her forehead against his neck, her heart to his, “Don’t. I need you. I may have already lost my father, and so many times over, I have lost my friends. If we survive this day, don’t ever leave me again.”

Trembling, his hand reached up and cupped her chin, wet now with tears. “Dawn Star,” he whispered.

“Don’t look now,” yelled The Black Whirlwind, “But it looks like the fighting in the Temple just started!”