Kylie Chan - Heaven to Wudang

‘I can smell it, we can go,’ Simone said, and we moved into the main part of the hall.

Racks of weapons stood on either side of us, resembling the shelves in a library. Those closest to the door held the standard training weapons used by students; the Celestial weapons were further back.

The rustling above us changed to flapping, and one of the flying demons that resided in the roof flew down to us. Simone readied herself to destroy it, obviously concerned that I’d chosen the wrong incense. The demon was black and a metre long with four legs and wings; it looked something like a flying lizard but much uglier. It clacked its grotesquely toothed beak at me and strutted up and down, blocking my way, then turned to speak. It sounded like a parrot.

‘Dark Lady.’

‘Hello, little one,’ I said.

‘It’s the middle of the night, Lady, why do you disturb us?’

‘I apologise for disturbing you. I wanted to check my weapon. Is it in there?’

The flyer hissed and took a few steps back, shaking its wings. ‘I don’t want to know anything about that thing.’ It took off again, spiralling up into the rafters.

We walked past the shelves to the back wall of the building, which was the Mountain itself.

‘Open,’ I said, and the wall disappeared, revealing a room full of brass that shone in Simone’s light.

The ceiling in the Celestial Weapons Archive was much lower, and carved with twining snakes and turtles. The walls were smooth polished stone, and the pillars and beams holding up the roof were clad with brass, again embossed with the symbols of snakes and turtles. Soft voices sounded just at the edge of hearing: some of the weapons were talking in their sleep.

The far end of the room, from one side to the other, was partitioned off with iron bars clad in gold. I stopped and took a few deep breaths: this was the hard part. I preferred not to do it, but it was the only way.

‘It’s in there, Emma, don’t worry about it,’ Simone said.

‘That’s beside the point,’ I said. ‘I need to go in there and have a little chat with it about why it’s not coming when I call it.’

‘It’s not worth the risk.’

‘No risk. I can do it.’

‘I’ll bring it out for you.’

‘It’s not talking to me so I can’t tell it not to hurt you. Still want to try?’

Simone was silent at that. She’d touched the sword before and knew how much it hurt.

I took some more deep breaths and concentrated, then closed my eyes. I took three steps forward and opened them again. I was inside.

Simone did the same thing, and stood beside me.

Seven Stars stood vertically on a solid silver stand in the centre of the room, its presence dwarfing the auras of the other weapons. I went around it, but Simone stopped to run her finger over the well-worn hilt.

The Murasame sat in the corner, laid horizontally Japanese-style on a stand of carved bone. Its darkness provided an eerie counterpoint to the brittle whiteness of its stand. I went to it and took its handle, then hissed with pain and pulled my hand away.

‘It hurt you?’ Simone said.

‘It doesn’t recognise me,’ I said.

‘This is the first time since you’ve recovered,’ she said.

‘I know,’ I said. ‘It hasn’t seen me without the demon essence.’

‘Want some blood?’ she said.

I turned to her and glared. ‘Don’t you even think about it.’

She shrugged. ‘Worth a try.’

I put my hand out towards the sword. ‘I’ll just have to tell it who’s the master.’

‘Well, that’s what you’re good at,’ she said, and moved away.

‘Is that you, Simone?’ Miss Chen, the Weapons Master, called from the main room.

‘It’s just us, Lucy,’ I said.

She walked through the bars with her eyes closed and approached us. ‘What are you doing here at this time of night?’

She was wearing a hot pink bathrobe pulled around her portly form, over old-fashioned flannel pyjamas decorated with tiny pink flowers. Simone stared at her for a moment, then grinned.

Miss Chen peered at Simone through her thick glasses. ‘What’s so funny?’

Simone smothered the grin and turned away. ‘Nothing, nothing.’

Miss Chen straightened the curlers in her hair. ‘You’ll get as old as me one day, young lady, and it’ll be just as much hard work.’ She turned to me. ‘Now what are you doing here in the Celestial Armoury in your pyjamas? Seems a strange place for a sleepover.’

‘The Murasame won’t come when I call it,’ I said.

She came to stand next to me and studied the sword without touching it. ‘This is the first time you’ve called it since the demon essence was burnt from you?’

I nodded.

She frowned for a moment as she thought about it. ‘I guess the reason you’re not touching it is because it doesn’t recognise you as its master any more and it’s hurting you?’

I nodded again.

She rubbed her chin. ‘But it’s still here, so it hasn’t reverted to anyone else’s ownership. Basically what you have to do is tell it who’s the boss.’

‘Which is what she’s good at,’ Simone repeated with humour.

‘Can you wrap something around your hand and try?’ Miss Chen said.

‘The pain isn’t from the contact itself,’ I said. ‘It’s more like spiritual damage from the proximity.’

‘Go to bed and come back tomorrow,’ Miss Chen said. ‘The sword’s not going anywhere. It’s nearly 3 am and both of you are tired, making it a bad time to be messing around with one of the most powerful destructive forces on the planet. Do it tomorrow, and I’ll come help you.’

‘She’s right, Emma,’ Simone said.

I tapped the sword with frustration and it burned my finger. ‘All right.’

The next morning I headed straight for the infirmary. Bridget, David and Michael were sitting in the courtyard under the peach trees in the sunshine. All three of them were wearing plain black Mountain uniforms, and Bridget had a pair of crutches leaning on the bench next to her. Michael rose, fell to one knee and saluted me, to David’s and Bridget’s obvious amusement.

‘No need, Michael,’ I said as he rose and painfully sat on the bench again. ‘How are you all feeling?’

‘Remarkably good, all things considered,’ David said. ‘Thanks so much for looking after us.’

‘Don’t thank me. You took a bullet because we were there,’ I said. ‘Bridget, do you mind giving me your hand? I’d like to check you.’

She hesitated a moment and looked at David. He nodded confirmation, so she held her hand out. I took it, holding her wrist at the pulse point. She gasped as I entered her energy stream to check the wound in her leg.

‘Does it hurt?’ David said.

‘No,’ Bridget said. ‘It just feels … strange.’

I moved my energy to the wound in her knee. The bullet had lodged itself in her kneecap, but someone had removed it and done a rough job of half-healing it. The energy healers would have been stretched fixing all three of them, particularly as Michael’s and David’s injuries had been severe. I completed the job, moving my energy over the shattered bone, knitting its structure together and fixing the tendon damage. Bridget shivered as I withdrew my consciousness.

‘All fixed,’ I said. ‘Try standing up.’

She leaned heavily on the bench and gingerly put weight on the leg. Her surprise was obvious as she stood with more confidence and took a few steps around the courtyard. ‘This is amazing.’

‘It’s not a hundred per cent yet,’ I said. ‘Don’t do any strenuous exercise on it for a week or so; the bone hasn’t completely healed.’ I turned to David. ‘Hand, please, let me look at you.’

‘What about young Michael?’ David said without giving me his hand. ‘He was hurt more than I was.’