20
The Imperial Palace was quiet. High in the sky, the sun cast long shadows across the throne room. Sitting on his throne, the Emperor was silent, lost in thought. He had heard more disturbing reports of Böri Khan and his Shadow Warriors wreaking havoc all along the Silk Road. It was only a matter of time before panic and fear spread through the kingdom. And with panic and fear came instability and danger. This could not happen. He needed to protect his people and keep his kingdom safe.
Hearing the throne room doors opening, the Emperor looked up. His chancellor was coming toward him, urgency in his steps. When he reached the throne, he bowed low. Then, straightening, he spoke. “Your Majesty,” he began. “A word in private?”
The Emperor nodded, trying to keep his face neutral as the other officials and attendants in the room moved away. He had known the Chancellor for a long time. For him to look this worried, something must be truly wrong.
Unfortunately, he was right. “Scouts have informed me that Böri Khan has infiltrated the city,” the Chancellor said, his voice urgent. “He assembles at the New Palace with a small group of highly skilled assassins.”
The Emperor bowed his head in thought for a moment, his mind racing at the news. Böri Khan was bold to go after the New Palace. The building, aptly named, was new and not yet finished. Built in honor of his father, it was important to the Emperor. It was also less guarded, which made it an easier target. If Böri Khan were to take it, it would also make for a good statement of his strength.
When the Emperor looked up, the kind expression he normally wore was gone. In its place was the expression of a fierce—and deadly—warrior. “Prepare my guards,” he said. “We ride to the site immediately.”
“Your Majesty,” the Chancellor protested. “It is far too dangerous.”
“Your loyalty and concern for my safety are greatly valued,” the Emperor said. But it was clear he had no intention of listening to his advisor’s protest. Motioning to the generals and other officials who had moved into the shadows to step forward, he prepared to give them orders.
But the Chancellor interrupted him before he could start. “If I may be so bold, Your Imperial Highness . . .” he began, earning him a stern look from the Emperor. But despite the look, the leader nodded for him to go on. “Put me in charge of your Imperial Army. At least allow me to have them follow you and surround the New Palace.” The Emperor was silent as he weighed the Chancellor’s words. Taking the silence as an opportunity, the Chancellor pressed on. “Please consider your citizens. Your safety must be ensured.”
The words struck the Emperor. While it was not what he would choose, the Chancellor was right. He was the Emperor. Throwing himself right into the enemy’s waiting arms without backup was a foolish maneuver that could leave the Empire without a ruler. No, the Chancellor was right.
Turning, he gave his orders. “I am placing my chancellor in charge of the Imperial Guard. His command is my command.” As the generals and officers bowed in assent, the Emperor went on, his voice loud. “This brute who attacks our trade routes! This murderer who threatens our way of life! I will kill this Böri Khan as I killed his own father. With my own hands.”
Without another word, the Emperor strode out of the throne room. Behind him, the Chancellor watched. For several minutes, he stood there, his eyes narrowed and his hands clasped in front of him as all around the room, officials and generals fluttered about. After a few moments, he moved to one of the windows. A flicker of approval flashed in his eyes when he saw the Emperor riding away from the palace, flanked by his guard.
Turning, the Chancellor looked at one of the senior officers. “Assemble all Imperial Guardsmen immediately in this square. That includes every guard on every tower and every gate.”
The announcement was met with shocked murmurs. “But who will protect the city?” the officer asked.
“You question the judgment of His Majesty the Emperor?” the Chancellor snapped, his words harsh.
Immediately, the senior officer shook his head. “Of course not, Chancellor,” he said, backpedaling. “I will see to it immediately.”
When at last the throne room was empty, the Chancellor walked toward the throne. As he did, he lifted his arm and pulled a pin from the back of his neck. As the man’s body slumped to the floor, unconscious, a hundred small birds rose in his place. It had been Xianniang the whole time. The birds rose up and shot toward the open door. Soaring into the sky, they flew in a tight formation, shifting and twisting so they formed a long, dense shape.
They were a signal.
And down in the New Palace construction site, Böri Khan saw it. A smile spread across his face. Xianniang had done it. She had convinced the Emperor to leave his palace open and unguarded and race right into his trap. The man was a fool. And now he would pay. Signaling to his Shadow Warriors, Böri Khan watched as they slipped into the scaffolding along the west watchtower and disappeared.
Mulan pulled Black Wind to a stop in front of the Imperial City gates. They had ridden hard from the Mountain Steppe Garrison, and the horses and their riders were tired. But spotting the gates open and unmanned, she and the other Imperial soldiers instantly went on the alert. Mulan’s body tensed and she felt her skin prickle. Something was wrong. Spurring Black Wind on, she and her fellow soldiers raced into the city.
Citizens jumped out of the way in fear and surprise. The soldiers didn’t slow until they reached the main square of the Imperial Palace.
As they entered the square, Mulan pulled back on Black Wind’s reins. She slowed the horse and looked over her shoulder at Commander Tung. He met her gaze, her worry mirrored in his eyes. The square should not have been open. The gates shouldn’t have been unprotected. Where were the men who were supposed to be guarding the Emperor and the palace?
There was the sound of creaking wood. Whipping her head around, Mulan saw the gates to the square shutting. A moment later, the doors slammed closed. They were trapped!
“Ambush!” Mulan shouted to the other soldiers as the nervous horses nickered and shifted on their feet.
Unsheathing his sword, Commander Tung yelled out orders to the soldiers, moving them into formation. Just as he finished, dark figures appeared on the balconies that ringed the square. A moment later, the figures shifted and came into focus, revealing themselves to be Böri Khan’s Shadow Warriors. They leapt from the balconies, landing on the ground with dancer-like grace, their swords already raised for battle.
The commander turned to Mulan. “Protect the Emperor!” he ordered.
Mulan didn’t hesitate. Jumping off Black Wind’s back, she raced across the square. Her arms whipped her sword through the air in precise and fluid motions as she fended off the attackers. Behind her, Commander Tung called for the others to keep her path clear. Instantly, Honghui, Cricket, Po, and the rest of the soldiers ran ahead to fend off the warriors in Mulan’s way.
Clear of her attackers, Mulan entered the palace in search of the Emperor. Quickly, she made her way to the throne room. As she ran, she silently thanked Commander Tung for his leadership and preparation. He had spent their journey to the capital describing the layout of the palace to her in case they were separated. She turned left and right and then went up a flight of stairs, reaching the doors to the throne room. Pushing them open, she walked inside. The outside noises of battle faded as the doors closed behind her. Spotting a figure on the throne, she hurried down the long room and then bowed.
“Your Majesty,” she said, her racing heartbeat slowing when she saw the leader safe. “I am Hua Mulan from the Fifth Battalion. I’ve come to protect you.”
“Impossible.”
Mulan’s head lifted in surprise when she heard the familiar female voice answer. Looking up, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, she saw that it was not the Emperor sitting on the throne. It was Xianniang. The witch stared back at her. Then the woman stood up and spoke again, her voice laced with disbelief. “A woman leading a man’s army.”
Mulan’s eyes narrowed. The witch could think what she wanted. The truth was Commander Tung, Honghui, and all the other soldiers had accepted her. And they were counting on her now. “Where is the Emperor?” she said, unsheathing her sword and advancing toward the throne.
But her steps slowed as she came closer to Xianniang. Pain and grief were etched on the witch’s face, making her sharp features oddly more beautiful. She looked vulnerable—and scared. Mulan felt the urge to ask her what had happened. But she didn’t need to. She knew without words. Böri Khan’s victory might be approaching, but Xianniang was alone. In so many ways.
“You were right,” Mulan said, lowering her weapon. “We are the same.”
Xianniang gave Mulan a small, sad smile. “With one difference: they accept you, and they’ll never accept me.” The witch’s words were full of emotion, and as Mulan watched, a tear dropped down Xianniang’s cheek.
Mulan’s heart ached for the woman in front of her. She had, only a short time ago, felt there was no place for her, either. Yet, ironically, it had been Xianniang who had given her strength to embrace her true identity. If only now she could make Xianniang see there was another way.
“All along, you told me my journey was impossible,” Mulan said, softening her voice as she approached the throne. “Yet here I stand, proof there is a place for people like us.”
“No,” Xianniang replied, shaking her head, then bowing it in defeat. “It’s too late for me.”
Mulan sheathed her sword. She came to a stop in front of the throne, unarmed and vulnerable.
For a long moment, warrior and witch watched each other. Mulan didn’t move, her breathing steady as she watched Xianniang struggle to pick a side. “Please,” Mulan said, breaking the silence. “I need your help.” Her voice, strong and proud, bounced off the walls of the throne room.
Mulan could not read the witch’s expression. Then Xianniang took a deliberate step forward. Mulan’s breath hitched.
What was she going to do?
In answer, Xianniang let out a piercing shriek. Mulan’s hands went to her ears as she watched the witch drop her dagger and run down the throne stairs—straight toward her. Just before she slammed into Mulan, Xianniang let out another cry and transformed into a hawk. Flying up and over Mulan’s head, the witch disappeared through the doors at the end of the room.
Racing after her, Mulan burst into the hall and followed the hawk as it flew down the palace steps and out into the air above the Imperial Square. Her head arched back, Mulan tracked the bird as it continued out over the city and then turned, flying in the direction of the New Palace.
Mulan gave chase. Below her, Commander Tung and his men fought, pushing back the Shadow Warriors. Mulan clambered up onto a roof above the square. Her eyes locked on the hawk as she ran over the tiles. When she reached the end of one roof, she leapt onto another, making her way out of the palace and onto the tops of the nearby houses. Her steps were confident despite the uneven surfaces and the buildings’ great height. In no time, she reached the construction site of the New Palace.
Only then did she slow. Leaping down onto the ground, Mulan stood catching her breath as the hawk swooped into the west watchtower. The faintest of smiles tugged at her lips. In her gut, she knew. Xianniang had answered her call for help. Somewhere amid the construction was the Emperor—and Böri Khan. Now Mulan just needed to find them.
“Why are you here?”
Böri Khan’s voice boomed with anger as Xianniang flew through the window of the tower. Scaffolding covered the inside of the unfinished building. The Rouran leader stood on one of the raised wooden platforms, the Emperor tied to a pole behind him. Transforming back into her human form, she approached the Rouran warrior, ignoring the daggers he shot at her with his eyes.
The Rouran leader had no power over her anymore.
“The attack has met fierce resistance,” Xianniang said.
Böri Khan’s eyes widened in disbelief. “From who?” he snapped.
Xianniang almost smiled, but she kept her expression stoic as she responded, “A young woman from a small village.”
Böri Khan laughed. “A girl?”
Walking toward the edge of the tower, Xianniang looked out over the construction site. On the ground below, she could see Mulan racing toward the tower. She was calm, composed, her face a study in focus. Turning back to Böri Khan, Xianniang shook her head. “No,” she said. “A woman. A warrior.” Her voice was strong and proud. “She leads a band of brave and loyal soldiers. The army is not far behind.” She smiled as she saw her words make Böri Khan’s face contort in rage. He looked out the unfinished window of the tower as if he might actually see the army. Instead, he saw Mulan making her way toward them—the warrior who threatened to ruin his plans.
“A woman leads their army,” Xianniang continued, each word slow and deliberate. “And she is no scorned dog.”
“You led her here,” Böri Khan accused, turning back to Xianniang. He sounded surprised.
“You shouldn’t have trusted me,” she said. The moment was an echo of their earlier conversation. Only now it was she who held the upper hand. Because she no longer needed him. And he knew it. Böri Khan’s face grew red and his hands, hanging by his sides, shook as rage enveloped him. He reached behind his back and grabbed his bow, notching an arrow and aiming it right at the witch.
Xianniang didn’t move except to lift one perfectly arched brow. “What makes you think you can kill me?” she asked.
“I can’t,” Böri Khan replied. Fast as lightning, he turned and aimed the arrow away from Xianniang—and toward Mulan, who had made her way inside the New Palace gates and stood on the ground below. “But I can kill her,” he said, letting the arrow fly.
Xianniang watched the arrow move through the air as if in slow motion. Looking down at Mulan, Xianniang knew she could not let the girl die at the hands of Böri Khan. The Rouran warrior had been the last in a long line of people who had made Xianniang feel trapped, afraid to embrace the power within herself.
Xianniang had been right. They were alike. Mulan had hidden who she was, perhaps not in the form of a bird, but under the armor of a man. Yet she had ultimately embraced who she was and allowed others to see her true self. Mulan had done what Xianniang could never do: she had become free. If Mulan were to die now, everything she stood for, all that she had fought for, would be for naught.
Xianniang knew what she had to do.
Leaping into the air, Xianniang transformed into a hawk. With a flap of her wings, she put herself right in the path of the arrow.
The arrow slammed into her body, knocking her out of the scaffolding. Wind whistled in her ears as Xianniang felt herself fall. Just before she hit the earth, Mulan’s arms reached out and caught her. As Mulan lowered her to the ground, Xianniang transformed back into her human form. She looked up at Mulan and gave her a weak smile as she felt the life draining from her body.
Her head grew heavy, and Xianniang let it fall back. As she did so, she met Mulan’s eyes, which were full of surprise and compassion. “Take your place, Hua Mulan,” she whispered. And then, with one last breath, her chest grew still.
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