Eagle (Page 11)

“They appeared to have been crushed to death, sir,” the guard said. “The strange thing is, there is no evidence of what they were crushed with.”

Tonglong paused. There was only one person he knew of who could accomplish such a feat. He looked over at his mother, and she mouthed the same name that had come to his mind—HaMo.

Tonglong turned to say something to the Emperor, and a glint of sunlight flickered in the distance. Tonglong glanced back at Golden Dragon and saw that he was still staring at the temple.

Tonglong squinted into the setting sun and scanned the temple’s ornate roof. A pair of angry dragons scowled back at him from the roof’s steep, upturned corners. Behind one of the statues, something flickered again, like wet, polished metal reflecting the day’s final rays.

“Take cover, Your Highness!” Tonglong shouted. He grabbed the Emperor by the arm and began to run toward a line of nearby buildings. As he ran, Tonglong glanced back into the pit.

Golden Dragon was gone.

Ying sat hunkered down behind an ornate stone dragon on a corner of the temple rooftop. He had a clear line of sight, three loaded qiangs, and a burning desire to exact revenge.

Standing in the open before him were Tonglong, AnGangseh, Xie, the Emperor, and his former brother, Long, now called Golden Dragon.

Who should fall first?Ying mused.

He raised a qiang to his shoulder, resting the long metal barrel on the head of the stone dragon. He’d only had limited training with these foreign weapons, and the current conditions were far from ideal. He had the sun to his back, which was a good thing, but the wind was blowing hard from left to right. Qiang ball accuracy was questionable enough at close distances. At this range, it was almost complete guesswork, especially with a strong crosswind. He knew the chances of hitting three or even two targets were remarkably slim.

Ying lowered his head and stared along the length of the qiang’s barrel, considering his options. All five targets were appealing, but there really was no question about who deserved to fall first.

Ying lined up the end of the qiang barrel with the center of Tonglong’s chest, then carefully adjusted it up and left to account for the projectile’s inevitable drift and drop. He took a deep breath, exhaled evenly, and began to squeeze the trigger.

And then Tonglong grabbed the Emperor and began to run.

Ying cursed as Tonglong, AnGangseh, the Emperor, and Xie headed for cover.

Ying knew he would never be able to hit a moving target at this distance. He let them go.

This was all Long’s fault. Long had been staring at him for quite some time, and Tonglong had glanced back at Long before breaking into a run. Ying wished he knew how to mask his chi.

Dragons like Long possessed unusually large amounts of chi, or life energy, and they had an uncanny ability to sense other dragons’ chi over great distances. Ying had always guessed that his own chi was strong. Now he was sure of it.

Ying turned his qiang toward the pit to take a shot at Long, but Long was no longer there. He was probably hiding behind one of the huge roof timbers inside the pit. Ying leaned over the edge of the rooftop to get a better angle of sight into the pit arena, and Tonglong suddenly shouted from the distance, “Straight over your heads, men!”

Two armed soldiers sprang to life below Ying from inside the temple’s front door. Ying jumped to his feet and shoved the qiang in his hands into the tattered blanket alongside the other two weapons. The qiangs would be useless while he was on the move.

“There he is!” one of the soldiers shouted from below.

Click … fizz … BANG!

A qiang ball smashed into a clay roof tile between Ying’s feet. He hoisted the qiangs over his shoulder and began to run due west along the steep rooftop.

Click … fizz … BANG!

A second qiang ball whizzed past Ying’s ear. He glanced down and saw the soldiers drop their smoking qiangs. Rather than reload, they began to chase after him from the ground.

Ying slowed, allowing the two soldiers to catch up. As they neared, he threw his bundle of qiangs to the ground in front of them.

Click … fizz … BANG!

One of the qiangs triggered on impact, the lead ball lodging itself in the ankle of the first soldier. “Owwwww!” the man howled, and bent over, grabbing his injured leg.

Ying leaped off the rooftop with his arms spread wide, coming down hard on the center of the wounded soldier’s back.

“Ooofff,” the man exclaimed as he hit the earth.

Ying stepped off the soldier, and the man twisted his head up to look at Ying. Ying planted a boot heel into the side of the soldier’s head. The man went limp.

Ying turned to face the second soldier and scowled, curling his lips back over his sharpened teeth. He flicked out his forked tongue.