Stronger Than a Bronze Dragon Page 12

  The people of Baiheshan carry a different air than the elites of Tongqiucheng, and the men here all wear their hair in different styles. Most sport a queue—the Imperial style—but many also wear a topknot like Tai’s—the ancient warrior’s style. And still others, dressed in a monk’s simple white robes, have no hair at all.

  No wonder Tai was unconcerned about his “foreigner hair” making him stand out. Apparently there are many foreigners in Baiheshan, which is close enough to the roads leading from the West to have seen many travelers. We’re also far enough from Tongqiucheng that whatever fear drove him to hide his face before is no longer a factor, since we’ve walked past several city guards without incident. So far, I haven’t seen any sign of Viceroy Kang’s presence and conclude that his search hasn’t reached this city. I only hope I’m right.

  I look around for an open part of the street I can perform in. A few Westerners pass us, dressed in odd-looking trousers and even odder tunics that are open in the front and have another, thinner tunic inside. Though not all of them have yellow hair—some have brown hair and others black like citizens of the Empire—their unusual facial features make them stand out. Sharp, pointy noses and jutting chins. Round eyes with thick lids. Hair even shorter than Tai’s that hugs their scalps. And, depending on what parts of the West they come from, their languages sound like anything from a goat’s bleat to a flute’s melody.

  “How long does it take to pick a street corner?” Tai, walking beside me, sounds nonchalant. Since we boarded the wagon he’s been acting as if nothing happened.

  I choose to do the same. “There’s a strategy to it. You need an area that’s crowded so you’ll attract plenty of onlookers, but not so crowded that they won’t see you through the masses.”

  An empty area sprawls before the back wall of a building. It’s perfect—right in front of a bustling street, yet not blocking any storefronts. And I don’t see any other street performers around.

  “This will do.” I speed into the spot then unstrap my sword. Eying its sharp edge, I wrap the leather strap around the blade; the last thing I want is for the sword to fling out of my hand by accident and impale an onlooker.

  Tai watches with a bemused expression. “Do you really think this will work?”

  “Yes,” I reply, even though my heart whispers, No. I haven’t performed in the streets since I was twelve, and back then, I had Father and Anshui with me. In Dailan, the audience consisted of only my friends and neighbors. I also don’t have the set pieces I need for my usual Warrioress routine, so I’ll have to improvise. All that traveling and fighting has left my simple outfit somewhat bedraggled and far from impressive. Then again, the last time I performed with my full regalia, I wound up attracting unwanted attention that led to an even more unwanted marriage proposal. Perhaps it’s better this way.

  Once my blade is bound, I raise it high and echo the words Father once used to draw crowds. “Everybody, listen here! Have you ever heard the story of Warrioress? Of course you have—who hasn’t? But have you ever seen it performed by a living, breathing girl who can embody all the skills of the great lady fighter of the Yueshen?” As people start turning to me, I plaster a wide grin onto my face, imagining how Father used to do it and trying to emulate his confidence. “Watch me bring the great Warrioress to life before your very eyes!”

  Though my muscles quiver with nerves, I hold my head high. I can’t let anyone see me waver, especially with Tai watching. A handful of onlookers form a semicircle around me, and he stands among them, still holding that bemused expression, but there’s also a look of curiosity and wonder in his eyes. I can’t tell if he’s admiring me or silently mocking me. Probably the latter.

  The audience is much thinner than the ones Anshui and I used to attract. I choose to attribute that to the fact that I’m the one calling for attention, rather than my imposing father. Still, there are at least a dozen people here, and if each of them—or even most of them—chooses to give a coin, then that’s enough for lunch at least.

  “Have you ever heard the story of Warrioress?” I repeat, sweeping my sword to the side. Though my heart flutters, I speak with confidence.

  I catch Tai’s smile in the crowd, and somehow, that energizes me. He said he’d steal our next meal if I didn’t earn enough. I’m not about to let him win.

  Since I don’t have my usual bamboo pole to leap onto, I’ll have to do something else to start the act. I lay my sword on the ground. “She was the daughter of a Yueshen prince and his beautiful bride—a pair so pure, Heaven granted them the powers of the stars.”

  To illustrate the unearthly beings from the sky, I spring up and flip through the air, then let the energy carry me into a second flip. Soft, scattered applause speckles the air.

  “But the evil Mowang grew jealous and, with his dark magic, cursed them so that any children they bore would fall to Earth and be trapped in a human form.”

  To illustrate the fall, I rush to the wall and use the momentum to carry me upward. For a moment, I’m weightless as I run up the wall like a spider. I flip over my head, land on both feet, and spin to face the crowd. Another spattering of applause follows.

  I fold into the ground, forming a little ball. “The place where the infant Yueshen princess landed was once a battlefield, and the ghosts of the great warriors who’d died there took pity and raised her.” Slowly, I rise, picking up my bound sword. “With their training, she learned to fight as well as any man—and better than most!”

  Flip, tumble, turn … I toss my sword from one hand to the other and let my body explode into fireworks of movement. But though the small crowd applauds heartily at my tricks, they’ve grown no larger. Disappointment rumbles in my gut.

  “But the girl knew she couldn’t stay among the spirits forever. So she left the protection of the ghost warriors to seek out the humans.” I walk in a large circle, using the opportunity to catch my breath. For effect, I swing my sword by my side. “Mowang, realizing how powerful she’d grown, sent a demon soldier to kill her the moment she struck out alone.”

  I raise my sword, preparing to switch roles and act out the demon soldier’s part.

  “And he attacked!” Tai leaps out of the crowd, swinging his bronze staff.

  I whirl toward him, startled. My sword instinctively whips up before me. He catches its bound blade with his staff, and suddenly, we’re face-to-face.

  What does he think he’s doing?! I glare at him.

  His lips quirk, and he sweeps my weapon to the side. Spotting his staff slashing toward me, I move to parry. Claps of approval ring in my ears.

  I want to yell at him to get out of my way, but with the audience watching, all I can do is make the most of the situation. When he strikes again, I dodge, then do an elaborate flip before striking back.

  In the corner of my eye, I glimpse more people approaching to see what the commotion’s about. It’s working …

  Still, if Tai wanted to participate, he should have asked instead of interrupting my performance. I strike at him again—none too gently—and he ducks. The moment I glimpse him moving to attack me, I leap into a back handspring. The sword in my hand nearly causes me to teeter, but I land on both feet. Channeling my annoyance, I launch a dramatic, whirling series of attacks. It’s all theatrical, but I wouldn’t mind if a few of those blows actually whacked his limbs. Tai blocks me, but this time, I manage to drive him against the wall.

  Instead of allowing himself to be defeated as the demon soldier was, he ducks under my arms and rushes toward the crowd.

  “Ladies and gentlemen!” he exclaims. “The story you’ve heard is incomplete!”

  What’s he talking about? I watch him with narrowed eyes.

  “The one known as the demon soldier was not always a minion of Mowang.” As Tai continues, his expression takes on an exaggerated air of tragedy. His tilted brows, pouting mouth, and elongated vowels are rather comical, and I stifle a laugh. “He pledged his allegiance to the demon king in exchange for the powe
r to protect his village from invaders. But though that oath bound him to Hell, he was not evil at heart.”

  That’s not part of the story! I open my mouth to protest his twisting of the myth but stop when I notice that the crowd has grown to twice its original size—and is watching with rapt interest. Apparently they don’t care that Tai’s making things up. Part of me is glad to have their attention, but a bigger part remains irritated.

  “Great Warrioress!” Tai spins to me and drops to his knees, that melodramatic look of sorrow still distorting his face. “Will you help me escape my curse?”

  I huff. “I thought Mowang sent you to kill me.”

  “I have no wish to obey his order. I only wish to be free … Please, my great, powerful, beautiful Warrioress, will you help an unfortunate, cursed soul?”

  I scowl, wondering what I’m supposed to do now. When in doubt, turn to your audience, Mother told me once. They’ll let you know what they want.

  Glancing at the crowd, I ask, “Should I aid an agent of the demon king?”

  Several people shout their approval. Perhaps they’ve heard this story so many times they’re curious for an alternate ending. Or perhaps it’s Tai … an aura of effortless charm clings to every action he takes. He makes everything he does seem natural, easy.

  I look down at him, and his eyes glint with mischief.

  “Will you help me, Warrioress?” He exaggerates his pout even further, and it’s all I can do to keep from bursting out in laughter despite my annoyance.

  I decide there’s no harm in indulging the audience with a new version of the myth. “Very well.” I reach out my hand. “Get up. You look ridiculous.”

  Soft chuckles ripple through the crowd. Tai clasps my hand, and I pull him up. He meets my gaze with that smirk of his. It feels so familiar by now, I don’t know if I want to laugh or smack him. His warm grip lingers around mine, and I find myself strangely reluctant to release him.

  I swing my bound sword. “How do we lift this curse?”

  “Mowang used his dark magic to seize my beating heart from my chest.” Tai clutches his chest and staggers backward. “He keeps it in an enchanted box guarded by monstrous serpents. If we can defeat them and retrieve it, I’ll be free!”

  “Oh?” I lift one eyebrow. His tale is nonsensical; Mowang’s been known to do a lot of wicked things, but ripping out hearts isn’t one of them. “I thought you said it was your soul that Mowang held.”

  “One’s soul is bound to one’s heart—surely you knew that?” He swings his staff. “They journeyed to the Courts of Hell and confronted the demons within!”

  Tai’s staff becomes a whirlwind as he expertly spins it between his hands, then over his head, then around his shoulders in a dizzying flurry. The crowd applauds, but he’s not done yet. He tosses it high into the air and, while it’s aloft, kicks his legs over his head in an aerial cartwheel. After landing, he catches the staff and points it at the audience with a firm, dramatic flourish.

  The crowd claps loudly, clearly impressed. He flashes me a grin, as if expecting me to be as well. I have to admit, he’s skilled with a staff. But I’m not about to let him steal the audience’s approval when it’s me they came to see.

  I shake my head. “We’ll never defeat them at this pace. Let me speed our progress.”

  I snatch the staff from him then whirl both it and my sword by my sides, turning them into a pair of propellers. The staff is significantly longer than a second sword would be, but I hold myself steady so no one will see that it’s shaking my balance. I spin in place, passing both weapons around my body and over my head. Finally, I toss them both up and perform the same kind of aerial cartwheel that Tai just did—except I do it twice. I catch the sword and staff and—just for good measure—throw them up again and jump up in a double flip. The moment my feet touch the ground, I snatch both from the air and end with a powerful pose, the sword above my head and the staff out before me.

  Roars of approval erupt from the crowd. I glimpse Tai staring at me with an expression of awe, and this time, it’s my turn to smirk. “Though the soldier fought bravely, any skills he possessed Warrioress could perform twice as well—if not more.” I toss him the staff and put my hand on my hip, daring him to do better.

  He bows his head. “Of course, the soldier knew he was no match for the legendary Warrioress.”

  A sense of satisfaction courses through me, and it feels somewhat strange, almost unreal. He just admitted defeat—something no man has ever done with me before. Part of me wonders if Tai’s willingness to concede is part of the performance, but the look of admiration and respect shining in his eyes seems genuine. Something warm glows in my chest, and my smirk melts into a different kind of smile.

  “Even the best could use some help.” I toss my sword from one hand to the other as an idea hits me. “It would be more efficient to defeat the monsters together, don’t you think?”

  Tai, apparently taking my cue, begins spinning his staff again. “Indeed, it would.”

  I slash my sword and perform a series of kicks while Tai, at the same time, whirls his staff over his head. For a few moments, we each show off our talents. He turns his staff into a maelstrom of moves while I fly through the air with my flips and handsprings.

  Cheers and applause fill my ears, and I grin. Tai catches my eye, then tosses me his staff. I snatch it and whip both weapons around me. Wondering what he’d do with it, I pass my sword to him.

  He doesn’t miss a beat. The instant the sword lands in his grasp, he begins slashing the air in rapid, dizzying movements. I keep twirling the staff, but steal a few glances in his direction. Though he’s not as quick as I am, Tai can certainly handle a blade. His arms are fluid as he slices at an invisible enemy, and I wonder where he trained. There’s no way he learned these skills on a whim—someone must have spent years teaching him. Was he a soldier once?

  Tai catches my eye again and throws my sword back to me. I grab its hilt then toss both weapons so I can perform one last flip. I catch them midair before stabbing the ground as I land.

  “They defeated the monsters!” I force energy into my voice despite my heaving breaths. As I rise, my legs feel wobbly.

  Applause thunders through the crowd of onlookers, which is now so dense I can’t see the street through them.

  “The soldier took back his beating heart.” Tai clutches his chest and doubles over with melodramatic flair. He glances at me, and a wicked grin lights his face. “The moment he returned to his human state, he realized he was desperately in love with Warrioress.”

  Hun shen me dan?! I bite my teeth to keep from yelling the curse aloud. Hot fury engulfs me. Does he always have to make fun of me?

  “That’s a pity, because, as we all know, Warrioress would go on to brave many more adventures alone.” I shoot Tai a glare. “And after defeating many more enemies, she would marry a great king.”

  Tai drops his expression back into that farcical pout. Still clutching his chest, he sinks to the ground. “The unfortunate soldier spent the rest of his days pining after the magnificent woman who freed him, until finally, he could take the sorrow no longer and died of a broken heart.”

  I want to smack him so badly I have to clench my fists to stop myself.

  Groans rumble through the crowd. Alarm seizes me … We can’t leave them with a disappointing ending. No one would give us any coins, and all that work would have been for nothing.

  Before I can come up with a way to salvage the situation, Tai springs up. “I take it you don’t like the way this story’s supposed to end?”

  A flurry of head shakes peppered with more groans passes through the crowd.

  “Would you like a new story, then?” Tai’s lips curve. “A different take on the legend?”

  Nods. Cheers. Exclamations of approval. What’s wrong with this crowd? Warrioress’s way is set—her story’s been written a thousand times. Everyone knows what becomes of her—a marriage to a mighty ruler, a lifetime spent behind the walls
of his palace after she gave up her adventuring ways to be a good queen, wife, and mother. People aren’t supposed to make up new endings to old legends. It’s practically blasphemy.

  But the crowd doesn’t seem to care. Tai’s alternate myth has them enraptured. An unexpected sense of envy snakes through my gut at the way he enamors people without even trying, whereas even on my best days, I’m about as likable as a thorn bush. When I perform, it’s my skills people come to see, not me. It’s probably why the crowd was so small before Tai stepped in, why after our sister acts, Anshui was always the one who received the most applause, even though I performed the harder tricks. Too bad the viceroy saw only my performer self and not the thorn bush.

  “A new story it is!” Tai whirls to face me. “Beautiful Warrioress, this humble soldier offers you his devotion for all eternity.” He clasps his hands in a pleading gesture and sinks to his knees. “Will you accept my hand in marriage?”

  I clench my jaw, imagining how my character would respond. “The great Warrioress would not love a man just because he wanted her to.” I give him a disdainful look. “He’d have to earn her favor.”

  “And so he shall!” Tai stands and winks at me, and I resist the instinct to roll my eyes.

  “How?” I demand. “By slaying monsters and bringing her treasures? Remember, Warrioress defeated many, many monsters on her own and had no need for knickknacks!”

  “Of course. How could one forget?” His expression warms, and he takes my hand. His eyes meet mine, and that strange pull draws me in once again—though toward what, I don’t know.

  A wave of heat rolls over me, and my pulse hammers so loudly I wonder if the entire audience can hear it. I must have performed harder than I thought … must have worn out my body more than I imagined.