Almost hidden by all the finery were Lily’s combat boots.
“You would look much better with the shoes,” Ah Hai pleaded, holding out a pair of embroidered black slippers with thick wooden soles.
“Forget it.” Lily was not leaving her boots behind. Bad enough to be forced to wear an outfit she couldn’t run or fight in—though some of the layers would come off pretty quickly, the skirt was going to be a problem. She saw Ah Hai’s crushed expression. “I don’t want to shame your work, Ah Hai, but I need to be able to move.”
She wanted to move now, dammit, but Li Po wasn’t back yet. She’d just checked again with her mindsense. Six guards were on the other side of the door. No one else.
“You think me very silly,” Ah Hai whispered sadly.
“I think you’re pretty amazing. Courageous.”
Ah Hai blinked. “You mock me. I am no warrior.”
“You’re willing to risk everything you have, everything you are, to do what’s right. What is that if not courage?”
Lily was rewarded by a hesitant smile . . . and magic rushed by in a soundless whoosh that made her hair try to stand on end. The very air seemed to shimmy.
“Oh!” Ah Hai’s eyes were huge. “What was that?”
“You felt it?”
She nodded. “As if the worm at the heart of the world rolled over, but the air shook, not the ground.”
The wards. The wards must have come down. Lily took a quick step toward the door. Stopped. Dammit, she needed that stupid Li Po to show up. What if he turned out to be more aware of his duty than she’d thought? If he went to lead the city’s guards instead of hanging around here to get the credit for handing her over . . . she needed a Plan B.
“What now?” Ah Hai whispered.
“Now,” Lily said grimly, “we wait.”
? ? ?
FIST Second Fang cursed quietly. “Is this all he sent? This note telling me to take ‘all available men’ and lead them against the shānjiǎo?”
The Fist in front of him was too disciplined to roll his eyes. He belonged to the city’s guards and had carried a report from his Fist Second to the First Fist, who had written and signed a note and told him to take it to the other Fist Second, Fang Ye Lì. Then Li Po had hurried away. “Yes, sir.”
He clenched his jaw. He had orders from one who outranked Li Po . . . but they did not include disobeying a direct order from the First Fist. Li Po was a good officer in many ways. He kept himself fit, drank abstemiously, and took his duties seriously. Unfortunately, he believed that his duties began and ended with appending a beautifully drawn signature to official documents. He did at least read those documents first. Also, unlike some in positions of authority, Li Po preferred competent underlings and went to some trouble to find them. But he had no interest whatsoever in actually running the Fists.
And in times of crisis, Li Po always made sure he had a scapegoat handy.
Fang knew very well what that damnably vague “all available men” meant. Whatever he did, Li Po could say he had done the wrong thing, taking too many men or too few. The same reasoning applied to sending Fang to personally lead the men without establishing a clear chain of command between himself and Second Fist Chen. Li Po wanted someone to blame if things went badly.
He and the messenger were in the barracks beneath the Justice Court—a large room every bit as stuffy as his superior’s office. All around him men were finishing their preparations for the display they were to put on soon—tying dress sashes, adjusting the hang of sheathed swords. Several shot glances his way. They knew about the shānjiǎo invading the city, forcing the wards to fail. He’d already sent two squads to assist—the men who’d been chivvying everyone out of the Xīnzàng de Jiā early. Heart’s Home was closed to the public now, in preparation for the arrival of an important guest.
Quickly he went over the roster in his mind, the leave rotation, the number of men sick or injured. With those out plus the two squads already detached and the squad Alice had taken with her, he was down a half-fifty already. He could not leave the jail completely unmanned, so there went another squad. And he was supposed to have a full fifty on display when the Zhuren’s important guest arrived. Whenever that might be. No one seemed sure, but the men were to be arranged in ranks, waiting, beginning at four hands before sunset.
Li Po would have to lead the men in that bit of pointless display, it seemed. The question was, how many men did Fang leave his superior? He could play it safe and take only the remaining twenty men from his second fifty, leaving the first fifty for his commanding officer. But did he wish to play it safe?
“Shānjiǎo are hard to kill,” he said slowly. “Arrows bounce off their plating.” And if you tried to get close enough to use a sword, you risked being trampled or smashed with their heavy tails.
“Yes, sir,” the Fist said emphatically. “Fire will turn them, so Fist Second Chen has some of the men using torches, trying to steer them back out of the city, but they only turn aside for a bit then come right back.”
“How many have torches?”
“Sir, I think two squads. The Fist Second is worried about fire from a dropped torch. Which could happen. When one of those beasts charges you—” He stopped. Gulped.
“You have been charged, Fist?”
“Yes, sir.”
It had been hot and dry for the last four hands of days, as it usually was at the height of summer. And only the wealthy built with stone. The shānjiǎo were undoubtedly doing a great deal of damage, but a fire would be worse. “How many squads does Fist Second Chen need?”
“He asked for a full fifty, sir.”
Fang raised his brows. “He has four fifties of his own.”
“Yes, sir. But in addition to his worry about the fire, Fist Second Chen is very concerned that . . . sir, the Zhuren have not appeared to reinstate the wards.”
Where were the Zhuren? That was a question everyone in the city must be asking. When the wards failed briefly after the earthquake five years ago, the three Zhuren who were in the city had appeared immediately, working both to reinstate the wards and to quench fires started in the quake. None had appeared in the skies in this crisis. Not even his Zhu, the Zhu Kongqi.
But he knew some of what Zhu Kongqi had taken on. He should not criticize, even in his mind. “They will do so, I’m sure.”
“Yes, sir.” The Fist sounded as uncertain as he felt. “What I meant was that, with the wards down, the predators who follow the herds might enter the city.”
Fang smiled a tight, hard smile. So be it. “I will bring the rest of my second fifty and four squads from my first fifty.” Let Li Po make his show with the remaining thirty. He would do what he might to keep the city from burning.
He turned and called out, “Our orders have changed.” And quickly listed the squads who would come with him.
? ? ?