Mouse (6 page)

Hok nodded in the darkness. “Yes, I'd like to wait for her to get stronger, but we have to leave this location. WanSow believes others may come now that Tonglong has the treasure.”

“I don't understand,” Charles said.

“Tonglong stole a famous treasure hoard,” Ying replied. “It included a set of legendary white jade swords and a suit of white jade armor. The swords and armor are purely symbolic, but the treasure can be used to bribe any number of officials. Remember the Southern Warlord I told you about?”

“HaiZhe?” Charles said. “Yes. I remember that sniper's tattoo.”

“That's right,” Ying said. “My mother has told us that HaiZhe has been after that treasure and those powerful symbols for years, and he suspects that my mother knows where the treasure was hidden. I am certain no one was spying on us before Tonglong attacked, so the sniper must have arrived afterward. HaiZhe probably sent someone to follow Tonglong's ship, and once word got back that Tonglong came here, HaiZhe posted the sniper. As soon as Tonglong starts spreading the treasure around, or HaiZhe realizes that his sniper hasn't reported back, HaiZhe will come looking for my mother. We need to leave.”

“Aye, aye,” Charles said. He grabbed a stout rope and tied one end to the sloop's sturdy mast. Then he hurled the remaining rope to shore and grabbed a length of sailcloth. “Pull that rope taut and tie it to a tree. I'm going to rig up a sling to get WanSow aboard. With any luck, we'll make it to the apothecary before sunrise.”

S
haoShu opened his eyes to find that he had a splitting headache, a dislocated shoulder, and no idea what time it was. Even so, he grinned as his eyes adjusted to the near pitch-black darkness. His mouse was snuggled up against his neck, nibbling on his hair. It didn't appear to have been injured while ShaoShu squeezed through the hole in the wall or when he fell.

His happiness didn't last long, however.

“ShaoShu,” Tonglong called from outside the small building. “Can you hear me?”

“Umm … yes, sir,” ShaoShu groaned, his cloudy head beginning to clear.

“Is anything broken?”

ShaoShu thought for a moment as he struggled to
pull his robe back on. “My shoulder is still out of joint and it really hurts, but I think that's all that's wrong.”

“That's not what I meant,” Tonglong hissed. “Did you break anything that belonged to my father?”

“I don't think so.”

“Good. Look up. I have something for you.”

ShaoShu looked up at the small round window and saw something float down. It was a silk bag.

“Pick it up,” Tonglong said.

“Ouch,” ShaoShu said with a grunt, struggling to stand with his one good arm. “I need to do something first, sir.” He made it to his feet and walked to one of the walls. ShaoShu tapped it with his foot to gauge his distance in the dark.

“ShaoShu, I need you to—”

“Wait, sir, please!” ShaoShu snapped. Building up his courage, he lunged forward, slamming his right shoulder into the stone wall.
“Arrrrgh!”
he groaned between gritted teeth. He hadn't hit it quite hard enough.

“Are you—” Tonglong began.

“Please, wait!” ShaoShu squeaked. He took a step backward, then lunged forward again, ramming his shoulder into the wall a second time.
“Owwww!”
he howled, and dropped to the floor, sweating despite the chilly night air. His second attempt had been successful.

After a few deep breaths, ShaoShu stood on wobbly legs. He rotated his right shoulder and shrugged it several times. It hurt tremendously but
seemed to work more or less normally. He picked up the silk bag.

“Sorry I was rude, sir,” ShaoShu said in a shaky voice. “What should I do now?”

Tonglong scoffed. “The building has only one room, and you are in it. There is a heavy stone pedestal in the very center. On it rests a porcelain urn. Carefully pour the contents of the urn into the bag and throw the bag out to me.”

“But, sir—” ShaoShu began to say, thinking about the contents.

“Do it.”

ShaoShu bit his lip. He had no choice. Without Tonglong's assistance, he would never get out of there.

He stumbled through the darkness on his still-wobbly legs until he kicked what could only be the pedestal. He reached up for the urn and heard a sickening scrape as he accidentally bumped the fragile container with his elbow. There was a tremendous crash, and the urn shattered on the stone floor.

“ShaoShu!” Tonglong roared in his metallic voice.

“Just a moment, sir,” ShaoShu said nervously. He dropped to his knees and began to hurriedly sweep the urn's contents into the bag. Soft powdery ash stuck between his sweaty fingers.

ShaoShu frowned. “I'm sorry,” he whispered to Tonglong's father's spirit.

As he was finishing, ShaoShu's hand knocked against something that felt like metal. He heard a soft
clank!
as the object slid across the stone floor, striking
the base of the pedestal. He slid his hand over the area until his fingers wrapped around what felt like a small key with lumps on it.

“I heard that noise,” Tonglong said. “Did you find something among the ashes?”

“Yes,” ShaoShu replied. “A key, I think.”

“Good. Throw it to me.”

ShaoShu tossed the key out the window. He heard Tonglong's hands clap together as he caught it.

The next thing ShaoShu heard was Tonglong walking away.

“Hey!” ShaoShu shouted. “Where are you going?!”

“I have what I need,” Tonglong replied. “I am returning to the ship. I have much work to do.”

“What about me?”

“You have served your purpose,” Tonglong said, and he laughed. “I'll be sure to mention you when I rewrite history.”

ShaoShu's eyes darted around the room, searching for something that might make Tonglong turn around. He remembered the silk bag.

“What about your father?” ShaoShu said in a desperate tone. “What about your past?”

“I have even less use for him now than I do for you,” Tonglong replied, his voice already far away. “Goodbye, Little Mouse.”

S
haoShu felt like crying. He looked up through the blackness at the small round hole that served as a dead man's window. This was going to be
his
final resting place, too. His body would rot beside Tong -long's father's ashes.

He sniffled. There was no way he could reach the window. Even if he could climb onto the pedestal and jump high enough to grab hold of the opening, he would never be able to squeeze back through without something supporting his feet.

ShaoShu lowered his head. Unless someone happened to pass by in the next few days, he was doomed.

A soft scraping sound caught his attention, and ShaoShu lifted his head. Was that Tonglong's father's spirit, there to punish him?

He glanced nervously around the darkness and determined that the noise was coming from one corner of the room. He crawled slowly in that direction. As he neared, he figured out what it was. Something was digging.

ShaoShu drew closer to the sound, and he saw that it was only his mouse. He had forgotten all about it. Grateful for the company, he reached out to pick it up. It darted forward, however, quick as a flash, disappearing into the tiny crack it had been pawing at.

ShaoShu pouted. Even his little friend had abandoned him, preferring to hide within the walls. He sighed and lay down to get a closer look at where the mouse was hiding. Perhaps he could coax it out by pretending to have some food.

As he pressed his eye to the crack, ShaoShu uttered a small cry. He could see a faint sliver of moonlight! The crack went clear through to the outside. What's more, the crack appeared to be wider on the outside than on the inside, and the stone floor gave way to dirt in this corner.

ShaoShu recalled what Tonglong had said about a mouse being able to squeeze through any space that could accommodate its head, and he scrambled back over to the pedestal. He felt along the ground until he found what he was looking for—a large, sharp section of the broken urn. He hurried back to the crack and began digging.

It took several hours and many different urn shards, but ShaoShu eventually opened a hole that he
could easily slip his head through. In fact, he could have stopped earlier and probably still gotten out, but he didn't feel like dislocating his shoulder again.

By the time he hauled himself out, the sun was beginning to rise. Exhausted and covered with dirt from head to toe, ShaoShu said goodbye to Tonglong's father and dragged himself around to the front of the building. He'd hoped to find a few bites of apple or other offerings left that animals or insects hadn't ravaged. Instead, he was greeted by a sight that made him forget all about his hunger.

“Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”

ShaoShu frowned. It was Lei.

Tonglong was there, too. He offered ShaoShu a slight bow and said, “Well done, little one. You have impressed me. That is not easy to do.”

ShaoShu stared coldly at Tonglong. “You were going to leave me in there, weren't you, sir?”

“Absolutely.”

“You are a bad man.”

Tonglong grinned. “So I've been told.”

ShaoShu turned away, and he heard a slight scurrying sound. He glanced down to see his mouse racing toward him. It hurried up the outside of his pant leg and across his sash, nestling itself deep inside the empty, dirt-laden pouch.

He rested his hand on the pouch, smiling inwardly.

“Isn't that cute,” Lei said.

ShaoShu ignored him.

“You have proven yourself, ShaoShu,” Tonglong said.
“From this point forward, you are a valuable member of my team.” He turned to Lei. “You will keep your cat a respectful distance from ShaoShu and, more importantly, from his mouse, understand?”

Lei bowed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Tonglong said. “Let us get back to the ship. We shall sail on this morning's tide.”

It was late in the day by the time ShaoShu had cleaned the last bits of dirt from behind his ears and beneath his fingernails. This was no easy task with the ship rolling about over heavy seas, but he managed after the cook took pity on him and let him borrow a brush normally reserved for scrubbing potatoes.

Tonglong had told him to be shipshape for a meeting they were going to have that evening. The ship's sailmaker had even made a new robe and pants for ShaoShu out of black silk. He wondered what the meeting could be about, silently hoping that it had nothing to do with his friends. Tonglong's ship had just passed the mouth of the Qiantang River, and he couldn't help but think about Hok and Ying. He'd traveled the river with them.

ShaoShu sighed and looked over at the largest of the treasure piles. Its tarpaulin had been pulled back, and several of Tonglong's men were documenting the items. He had a difficult time comprehending the vast wealth on deck. To him, the shinier an object was, the more it was worth. There sure were a lot of shiny objects there.

He scratched his head, thinking about another shiny object—the key. ShaoShu wondered what it was for.

As his mind continued to wander, Tonglong walked over to him.

“Amazing, isn't it?” Tonglong said. “Most men would give their right arm for only a small portion of this treasure.”

ShaoShu shrugged. “I guess, sir.” He glanced at the white jade sword Tonglong now wore at his waist. It glowed in the bright afternoon sun.

“Do you like this?” Tonglong asked, gesturing toward the sword. “In many ways, this is worth more than all that treasure combined. Did you know that?”

“Is it worth more than the key, sir?”

Tonglong scowled and lowered his voice. “Never mention the key again. Do you understand?” He gripped the jade sword menacingly.

ShaoShu's eyes widened. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

Tonglong pulled the white jade sword out of his sash and examined it. “Doesn't this impress you more than a shiny little key?”

“No, sir.”

“Well, it should. And it will. I will have another job for you soon, and acquainting yourself with weapons of every sort is now of the utmost importance.”

ShaoShu frowned. “I don't like weapons, sir. They scare me.”