The Great Wall - The Official Movie Novelization

22

“Lin Mae! Above you!”

William saw her whirl round, then look up, her eyes widening in surprise as the gondola rushed towards her. The three Tao Tei, who had now been joined by a fourth and a fifth, were closing in on her, blood and drool trickling from their jaws, their small eyes glinting.

Knowing he had only a few seconds, he leaned as far as he could out of the gondola, his arm stretching out.

“Hand!” he yelled, but even as he gave the instruction he knew the gondola was still too high, a good six or eight feet above her, and she would never make it.

She was sprinting towards him now, though, the five Tao Tei springing forward, close on her heels. He saw her jam her lance into a divot between two of the tiles that covered the roof and launch herself toward the gondola.

She kicked her legs, as though pedaling the air, to gain as much height as possible. At the same time she stretched upwards, gritting her teeth in her attempt to make her arm, her hand, her fingers as long as she could.

William concentrated on that slender hand. Right at that moment it was, for him, the only thing that existed in the world. He stretched out his own arm and hand just that little bit further. The slim white hand came within reach…

He lunged and grabbed it! Grabbed it and held on tightly. As he yanked backwards, pulling Lin Mae up towards him, she brought up her legs and tucked her knees into her chest, the jaws of a leaping Tao Tei snapping shut on empty air just a couple of inches below her.

“Hold fast!” he shouted as she dangled below him, like a hunk of meat above a pool of hungry piranhas. Then he heard a cry of dismay from Wang and turned his head to see that the balloon was heading directly towards another roof, one that was a good twelve or fifteen feet higher than the roof they were currently flying over.

Still hanging out of the gondola, still gripping Lin Mae’s hand, he shouted, “Pull it up!”

His words were unnecessary. Peng Yong was already frantically cranking the little fuel they had left, while Wang, showing rare speed and nimbleness, had pulled out his sword and was slashing free unwanted ballast.

As the weights fell and the hot air gave the balloon extra lift, the gondola rose so quickly that it tipped a little, then righted itself. Fortunately for William and Lin Mae, it tipped up rather than down on the side of the gondola where he was clinging to her. As a result, she was jerked up into the air. Before she could fall again, William reached out and gathered her in, then allowed himself to drop backwards.

They tumbled into the gondola in a tangle of arms and legs, William on the bottom and Lin Mae landing on top of him. For a moment their bodies were pressed together, their faces so close that their noses were almost touching. Breathless and stunned, Lin Mae stared into William’s eyes, as though unable to believe he was here in front of her.

“I set you free,” she said.

He smiled. “And yet here I am.”

“Hold on!” Wang yelled before she could respond. Both their heads jerked up. Lin Mae used her now freed arms to push herself to her feet. The balloon had cleared the higher roof, but now, thirty feet in front of them, was one of a pair of huge pagodas, its tiered roofs shining red and gold. The balloon was still rising, but the pagoda was at least a hundred feet high and dead ahead; there was no way they would clear it.

They were going to crash!

Commander Chen’s balloon had passed by the right hand pagoda, and he and another Eagle Corps soldier were now firing arrows at a line of Tao Tei that were running along the rooftops beside them. Most of their arrows were hitting the target, but for every Tao Tei that tumbled dead from the rooftops another sprang up to take its place.

Seeing movement in his peripheral vision, he glanced behind him, and his eyes widened. In the balloon that was closest to his own he could see General Lin Mae, Strategist Wang and the foreign soldier, William, who was dressed in the armour of an Eagle Corps warrior. Yet although this was surprising enough, what really shocked him was that their balloon was heading straight for the pagoda his own balloon had just passed by. If the General’s balloon hit the pagoda, Chen knew they would all surely die.

The fuel was all but used up, but for now the brazier was roaring and the balloon was still rising. Peng Yong, having fed as much black powder to the brazier as he could without blowing it up, was now hauling desperately on the ropes, helping Wang steer the craft.

“Left! Left!” Wang was yelling. “Up the center! Split the pagodas!”

They both hauled hard to the left and the balloon responded accordingly, heading towards the gap between the two huge towers.

Behind them, closer to the back of the gondola, William and Lin Mae were now both up on their feet. She was still a little shaky, still recovering from her ordeal. She made no attempt to shrug herself free of William’s grip as he held on to her.

All at once Wang let out a cry of shock

“What is it?” William asked.

Wang pointed at the ground below. “See for yourself!”

William and Lin Mae exchanged a glance, then the two of them made their way up to the front of the gondola, where Peng Yong was now successfully steering the craft towards the gap between the two multi-tiered towers, which rose up majestically on either side of them. When they saw what Wang had seen they both gasped.

The two matching pagodas were standing either side of the foot of the broad North Steps, which rose up towards the huge and magnificent Reception Hall. Here, on the wide mezzanine in front of the vast double doors was a seething horde of Tao Tei, surrounding the Paladins, which had massed into a protective circle. It was clear the Tao Tei had fought and feasted. Many of them were smeared and splashed with human blood.

Lin Mae’s mouth opened in a silent gasp of horror and wonder.

Having successfully negotiated their way around the pagodas, and seen the General’s balloon change course and sail safely towards the channel between the two towers, Commander Chen’s craft had now run into difficulties. Passing to the right of the right-hand pagoda instead of steering the balloon between them had meant having to negotiate a forest of jutting spires on the long building that ran parallel to the North Steps. However some of their ropes between the balloon and the gondola had become caught on, and tangled around, one of the spires, and the balloon, though still airborne and billowing impotently in the wind that wanted to push them onward, was now stationary.

This wouldn’t have been a problem if it wasn’t for the fact that the Tao Tei were now homing in on them, more and more of the creatures swarming across the nearby rooftops to mass on the roof below. As Chen and another Eagle Corps warrior kept them at bay with arrow after arrow, the third member of their crew clambered up on to the side of the gondola and began trying desperately to free the tangled ropes. He couldn’t cut them, because it would mean severing the connection between gondola and balloon, but if he didn’t free them quickly then it would be only a matter of time before the massing Tao Tei swarmed up the spire and overwhelmed them through sheer force of numbers.

Peng Yong was still hauling on the ropes, trying to steer a steady course through the twin pagodas. However, it was not proving easy. A strong, sideswiping wind was blowing them back towards the right-hand pagoda.

Wang was all but jumping up and down in desperation and eagerness. “Left!” he shouted. “Left!”

Peng Yong glared at him, sweat pouring down his face. He snapped something in Mandarin, which William didn’t need to understand to know that the young man had retorted he was doing his best. By the time he yelled something else, a warning of some kind, William’s attention, along with that of both Wang and Lin Mae, had become fixed on the mezzanine area below and ahead of them. They stared in fascination and revulsion as they caught their clearest and closest glimpse yet of the Tao Tei Queen.

She was sitting within her circle of Paladins and appeared to be feeding. The Paladins had allowed a select number of Tao Tei soldiers to come forward and open their vast jaws. Also open was the Queen’s mouth, from which had extended multiple tentacle-like tubes, which had reached down into the throats of the uncharacteristically servile Tao Tei. Now the tentacles linking the Queen to her soldiers were bulging and rippling as she gorged on their already partly digested meal.

William didn’t know what was more disgusting—the Queen’s eating habits or the fact that the belly of her already bloated form was distended yet further by the many thousands of eggs rippling beneath her almost translucent skin. He glanced at Lin Mae, who put a hand over her mouth to demonstrate how the sight made her feel. He grimaced and nodded.

Peng Yong yelled another warning, and William looked up to see that, despite his efforts to steer them the other way, the strong wind had plucked them yet closer to the right-hand pagoda. It was looming up on their starboard side, coming at them both too fast and too quickly. Instinctively William grabbed something solid and fixed with one hand and, as the balloon suddenly swung up in a wide arc, Lin Mae with the other.

Chen kept firing arrow after arrow, but he knew it was hopeless. The ropes were still tangled around the chimney, the balloon above them was now slumping and sinking, and the Tao Tei were becoming too numerous to keep at bay.

He fired yet another arrow, as did the soldier beside him, as four Tao Tei leaped in unison from the chimney towards the gondola. Both arrows found their mark, the creatures twisting in mid-air before falling back into the seething horde of teeth and claws below, but the remaining pair of Tao Tei clamped their jaws around the gondola and wrenched it sideways. As Chen fell backwards, the last thing he saw was the glowing brazier tipping over onto the container of black powder they had been feeding it with.

Then everything disappeared in noise and blinding white light.

The balloon missed the pagoda roof by inches, but the gondola didn’t. As the balloon drifted up and past the multi-tiered tower, the stern of the gondola, swinging behind it, clipped a protruding ledge, which both knocked off a chunk of rubble, and made the vessel spin and shudder.

Feeling as though he was inside a giant barrel being rolled down a hill, William clung on to both his handhold and Lin Mae. Dragging Lin Mae down with him, he crouched low to better center himself, tucking in his head, and so was only peripherally aware of something large and dark tumbling past behind him. Belatedly realizing it was Wang, he looked round to see the little man slam against the inside wall of the gondola as it tipped, then roll back to lie spread-eagled on the floor as it settled again. From the shocked expression on Wang’s face, it was clear he knew all too well how close he had come to falling overboard. If the gondola had tipped just a few more inches, he would have tumbled up and over the side.

As the gondola, though juddering, started to settle, with Peng Yong still hauling heroically on the ropes, William opened his mouth to speak. But at that moment Chen’s balloon, which had been somewhere to their right, on the other side of the pagoda, exploded with a shattering roar.

Once again they threw themselves to the floor as their gondola rocked and spun. A black cloud of smoke and dust and debris rolled over them, making them cough, hampering visibility. That was another balloon gone. Another three soldiers of the Nameless Order who had given their lives to the cause. William wondered how many more of them were left. Wondered whether the future of the entire human race now lay solely in the hands of him and his companions.

Of the many balloons that had launched from the battlements of the Great Wall, only a handful had reached their destination. Following their General’s orders they were landing now in the huge open courtyard to the rear of the Main Hall.

It was a scene of utter chaos. As gondolas careered and scraped across the stone floor, trailing ropes and masses of deflating silk and canvas, hundreds of people, perhaps even as many as a thousand, were pouring out of the Palace like ants from a trampled nest. These were mainly the Palace’s staff—servants, cooks, porters, footmen, laundresses. They were all sizes, all ages, all types, and they were fleeing for their lives, every single one of them terrified out of their wits.

They were heading as one towards the South Gates, in the vain hope that they might somehow escape the marauding monsters at their heels. The Tao Tei were not here yet, but they soon would be; they were not far behind. As the people flooded from the Palace they screamed and pushed and shoved. Many of them tripped over the trailing ropes or the deflating billows of silk, and fell and rolled, often injuring themselves, only to then pick themselves up and limp or stagger on regardless.

In the midst of this melee the Imperial Guard, or at least those that were left, were trying in vain to restore order. In truth, though, they had been completely overwhelmed by the disaster that had befallen them, and were just as scared and disorganized as everybody else.

As yet another gondola crashed down in the courtyard, the balloon it was trailing billowing up and over it like a shroud, the Guards ran instinctively towards it, their swords drawn.

The huge mass of stitched-together silk and canvas and animal skin billowed and furled in the wind. Trapped beneath it, Lin Mae felt as if it was smothering her. For a few seconds she was unable to breathe, overcome with panic.

Then she heard William’s voice, muffled but nearby. “Use your blade! Cut your way through!”

She forced herself to become calm, to reach for that still point in the center of her being. When she had found it, she reached with her fingers, ignoring the silk slithering across her face, and plucked her short blade from the sheath that was strapped to her leg. She slashed upwards, cutting through layers of dark material, feeling them fall away, finally seeing light penetrate the gloom. Cutting the hole wide enough, she clambered out, like a butterfly from a cocoon, and immediately became aware of William beside her, taking her arm and helping her out of the shredded wads of fabric.

When she looked up it was to see an Imperial Officer and several panic-stricken soldiers staring at her. The Officer, in his beautiful gold armour with its royal red and blue trimmings, was pointing a sword at her, his shaking hand causing the blade to quiver like a divining rod.

His voice shrill with alarm, he demanded, “What is this? Who are you?”

William scowled at him. “Back away!”

It was clear the Officer didn’t understand William’s words, but his aggressive manner was easy to interpret. Addressing Lin Mae again, he shouted, “Answer me!”

Lin Mae knew that if the man had had his wits about him, he might have recognized her armour, but he was clearly beyond that. Placing a hand on William’s chest as an indication that he should stand down, she stepped forward and reached into the collar of her armour, producing the gold medallion that General Shao had passed on to her. Silently she showed it to the Officer, who gazed at it as if hypnotized.

Finally, in something like awe, he murmured, “The Nameless Order.”

Instantly the nerve-wracked soldiers behind him dropped to their knees.

“Forgive me, your Excellency, for having eyes that fail to see,” the Officer continued. “I deserve a thousand de—”

“Off your knees, man! We’ve not time for that! Where is the Emperor?”

The outburst came not from Lin Mae, but from Wang, who was now struggling free of the deflated balloon. Behind him, white-faced and blinking and clearly astonished to find himself still alive, was Peng Yong.

As the Imperial Officer merely gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, Wang barked, “We need help. All the help that you can muster.” He turned to Peng Yong. “Black powder. We need everything you can salvage in three minutes.” Peng Yong nodded and scurried away on his mission.

Turning back to the still gaping soldiers, Wang clapped his hands together, like a hypnotist awakening his victims. “Well, come on! Get to it!”

Cowering behind his throne, shaking uncontrollably, the Emperor no longer projected the aura of an imperious ruler who held sway over the Seven Kingdoms. Now he had been reduced to what he really was: a small boy in fancy robes who was terrified for his life. As he heard footsteps clacking towards him, he drew himself into an even tighter ball, and when a hesitant voice said, “Your Majesty?” he couldn’t help but flinch.

For the sake of his reputation he knew he needed to respond, however, and so, after taking several deep breaths, he rose nervously from behind his throne. The magnificent Main Hall, a place that usually bustled with life, was now stark and almost empty. Aside from his Chief Counselor, who was the man who had spoken, and whose hands were pressed together in obeisance, there now remained just a smattering of his Imperial retinue—counselors, eunuchs, attendants—and a small group of soldiers.

Of the soldiers, who were standing at the foot of the throne steps, half a dozen were dressed in the gold, lavishly designed armour of his Imperial Guard. The rest were dressed in variously colored armour—seven in black, three in red, including one foreigner, and one in blue—and they looked battered, bruised and exhausted, as if they had just fought a long and arduous battle. Accompanying them was a small man in dark robes. He and a nervous-looking black-armored soldier were presiding over a pile of ropes and strange weapons and military paraphernalia, all of which were gathered together on what appeared to be a large, crumpled square of torn white silk.

As soon as he looked upon them, the soldiers and the two other men dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. The woman in the blue armour came forward and gave a small, respectful bow.

“I am General Lin Mae,” she said. “Your Majesty’s humble servant.”

The Emperor, recovering a little of his composure now, came slowly down the steps.

“Servant?” he said curtly. “Of what? How have you served me?” Suddenly his long pent-up fear found an outlet, erupting into fury. “The Wall has given way! My Palace is falling! My Kingdom overrun with beasts! Thousands of soldiers and innocents are dead! This is your service?”

Lin Mae lowered her head, as if in shame. “Forgive me, Your Majesty.”

The Emperor stared down at her with contempt. “How many men have you brought?”

Lin Mae hesitated, as if afraid to answer.

“Your Majesty,” the Chief Counselor interjected, “for the sake of the Kingdom, we must leave quickly.”

Finally Lin Mae gave him an answer to his question. Her voice was both apologetic and defiant. “I brought many. But these ten are all that remain.”

The Emperor seemed to sag, his arms reaching out for support. His Chief Counselor and two attendants rushed to his side to stop him from falling.

As though he had had enough of etiquette and deference, Wang rose to his feet and stepped forward. “Where is the captured Tao Tei?”

Everyone looked at everyone else. No one answered. Wang cast an accusatory look at the Chief Counselor, then at the Imperial Officer.

“Tell me you still have the captured Tao Tei!”

The Officer looked at the Emperor for permission to speak, and received a small nod in response.

“Of course. It’s been moved below,” he said. “To the dungeon.”

“Take us there!” ordered Wang.

In direct contrast to the opulence above, the Palace dungeons were dark and dank. Water ran down the slimy stone walls and dripped from the ceilings, as William, Wang, Lin Mae, Peng Yong and the rest of the Nameless Order were led hurriedly down a set of wide, slippery stone steps.

The Imperial Officer, leading the way with a torch held above his head, informed them hurriedly of Shen’s death, and of how the Tai Tei had wrecked its cage, necessitating its transferal to one of the cells in the Palace dungeon. He said that now the magnet had been placed back around the creature’s neck, it was once more dormant and pliable.

It was clear, as a pair of Imperial Guards unlocked and opened the cell, however, how frightened of it the soldiers here still were. They hung back, their faces taut with apprehension, as Wang, William, Lin Mae and (more reluctantly) the Imperial Officer crowded inside.

Lit by torchlight, the slumped Tao Tei did indeed look a fearsome beast. In the enclosed space, the scent that it exuded was musky, bestial. It breathed noisily, its great chest rising and falling, and even in repose they could all see the muscles clenching and rippling in its tree-like limbs.

Perhaps because he felt he had to make up for the terrible losses the Nameless Order had suffered as a result of his suggestion that they use the untested balloons, Wang seemed hyperactive, full of nervous energy.

Indicating the Tao Tei, he said, “We load it up with black powder weapons. We feed it. We pray it returns to the Queen.” As everyone nodded, he added, “We have very little time. With every minute that passes the death toll mounts, and the Tao Tei grow stronger. We must act now! Immediately! And may fortune be with us!”

His words had a galvanizing effect. Immediately Lin Mae started barking orders, which were relayed, via the Imperial Officer, to his own men. Within minutes everyone had an assigned role, and preparations were underway.

A dozen men, a mixture of Imperial soldiers and Nameless Order warriors, carried the Tao Tei up the slippery steps of the dungeon and into the courtyard above, where they loaded it onto an open cart. After heaving and pushing the creature into place, they stepped back, many of them unconsciously wiping their hands on their armour as if they had touched something unclean, expressions of disgust on their sweat-streaked faces.

Meanwhile William, Lin Mae, Wang and one of the Bear Corps warriors fashioned an elaborate harness of chains and leather bindings. As soon as the Tao Tei was in place, they fastened the harness tightly around its neck and arms. On the front of the harness was a pouch, designed to nestle snugly against the creature’s chest, made from a piece of canvas torn from one of the felled balloons, into which they carefully placed the magnet. That done, Peng Yong dragged the makeshift silk pouch, containing its arsenal of black powder weapons, up to the cart and quickly unwrapped it. He began to hand the grenades to William one by one, who, together with Wang and Lin Mae, knotted them tightly to the chains attached to the harness. As they were doing that, two Bear Corps soldiers appeared from an arched entranceway, wheeling forward another cart, this one piled up with meat—whole hogs, sides of beef, stacks of plucked and headless chickens.

Once the bulk of the work was done, the last few minutes were spent in a flurry of final preparations. Soldiers checked their swords and lances; torches were lit; Wang fussily re-checked the harness around the Tao Tei, tightening knots here and there. William strapped an ignition device—one of Wang’s inventions—to his arm, while Lin Mae, standing beside him, tightened her ropes and the scabbard containing her sword. All around them was a babble of voices, of steel weapons sliding into sheaths, of ropes creaking. In the midst of it, William looked up, to find that Lin Mae too was raising her head, turning to him. She hesitated a moment, and then said, “I was wrong about you.”

William smiled. “No. You knew me right away.”

She smiled back at him, but hers was an ironic smile, even a little bitter. “If I had been right, you would not be here.”

“I’m not here,” he said. When she frowned in puzzlement he explained, “The man who first arrived at the Wall is not here. I’m not him any more. I’m someone else now.”

Before she could reply, they were distracted by the creaking sound of a door opening on the far side of the courtyard. Both of them looked across to see the Imperial Officer pushing his torch forward into a dark entrance, illuminating a slope leading downward. William and Lin Mae watched as Wang and the Imperial Officer conferred for a moment, Wang nodding curtly. As Lin Mae translated what they were saying, explaining to William that beyond the door was a tunnel leading under the Palace complex, Wang marched back to a group of soldiers, who were waiting on the far side of the courtyard, and who had been chosen to stay behind as a last line of defense.

“We need all the time you can buy us,” he said.

As one, the small band of soldiers, fronted by two Eagle Corps warriors in filthy, battered armour, bowed in obedience, their faces masks of duty and grim determination.

Wang called together the procession that were undertaking the journey into the tunnel, and seconds later they set off. He and the Imperial Officer led the way, the Officer holding up a torch to light the route ahead. Directly behind them came two Bear Corps warriors, grunting with effort as they pushed the meat cart. Following them were Lin Mae and Peng Yong, both of whom, like the Officer, also brandished torches. Then came the three biggest and burliest warriors that the Nameless Order had at their disposal, all of whom wore black Bear Corps armour, and all of whom panted and strained and sweated as they maneuvered the heavy cart holding the recumbent Tao Tei through the tunnels. And finally, bringing up the rear of the group, came William, their last line of defense.

As the heavy door swung shut behind them, he glanced back, watching the block of daylight between door and frame become narrower until finally it disappeared. Now all they had to combat the darkness were their flickering torches, which threw strange, wavering shadows up and down the walls. Their journey had only just begun, and already the tunnel felt hot and stuffy, the air pungent with the stink of raw meat and the Tao Tei’s musky flesh.

William wondered what the next few hours would bring, whether this would be his last day on earth. He was all too aware he could be with Pero now, riding free across the desert plains, his saddlebags stuffed with black powder. But he had no regrets. He knew if he was given his time over again, he would still choose to be here—fighting alongside Lin Mae and the Nameless Order. Fighting for a cause that, for the first and only time in his life, actually mattered.

The door to the now empty Main Hall crashed open and the Tao Tei flooded in, their black talons scoring long grooves across the highly polished wooden floor. They crashed into pillars, knocked over pedestals, smashed vases and priceless statues, and tore down hanging silks with their claws and teeth.

Some of them swarmed up the steps to the Imperial throne, demolishing the delicate, ornamental balustrades at the sides. They sniffed at the throne and then around it, and then at the bottom of the steps. Their tiny eyes glinted; their maws opened, lips curling back from their rows of teeth, and they let loose a series of shrieks.

They had picked up a scent.

The defensive guard around the courtyard door numbered sixteen soldiers. Thirteen were from what remained of the Imperial Guard, and the other three were from what remained of the Nameless Order. Of the three Nameless Order soldiers, two were Eagle Corps warriors, standing at the front of the group with their bows armed and ready, and the other, standing just behind them with an axe in one hand and a mallet in the other, was from the Bear Corps.

None of the men spoke to one another. None of them shifted from their positions. They stood stoic and resolute, waiting for the enemy.

Waiting to fight and die.

The tunnel was hot and dark and seemingly endless.

Torches flickered. Muscles strained. Sweat poured. Wheels turned.

Silently, determinedly, they went on.

The silence in the courtyard was suddenly shattered by a sound that was distant, though no less terrifying for it. It was a shrill and hideous screech. Wordless, and yet full of rage and hate and awful, endless hunger.

The men in the courtyard stirred. The Imperial soldiers clutched the hilts of their swords with trembling hands; the Bear Corps warrior took a firmer grip on his axe and mallet; the Eagle Corps warriors drew back the strings of their bows, their focus absolute, their arms rock steady.

Another cry rent the air, closer this time, and was then quickly followed by another, and another. And now the men in the courtyard heard the thump of myriad feet, like the far-off rumble of approaching thunder.

The enemy were on their way.

There was light up ahead, Lin Mae was sure of it. It was difficult to tell with the flickering firelight of the Imperial Officer’s torch limning the rocky walls, but all the same she was certain she could see the faint glimmer of a different light beyond that—one that was softer, purer, more natural.

Was this new light coming from above? Yes, she was sure it was. She felt a pang of alarm as she wondered what could be causing it. Was it coming from a breach in the ceiling that had been created by the Tao Tei? Could their enemy have become tactically aware enough to anticipate their plan and intercept them?

But no. As they neared the light, she saw it was coming from a row of four open iron grates, like barred windows, set into the low ceiling of the next section of tunnel. The corridor broadened out a little here, and looked more man-made. The Imperial Officer turned and held up a hand, instructing them all to halt. When the wheels of the carts had creaked to a stop, he indicated a longer, darker section of tunnel that lay beyond the grated section directly ahead.

“That’s where we’re heading for,” he said. “Fifty more paces will bring us to the cellar of the East Pagoda.”

He turned away, holding up his torch, and again they began to move forward, the wheels of the two carts rumbling back to life. Lin Mae glanced over her shoulder at William, who was helping the now weary Bear Corps warriors push the Tao Tei cart the last fifty paces. She saw him glance up at the first of the grilles set into the ceiling—and then she saw him freeze. She glanced up too, following his gaze. Close to the grilles—no more than a few feet away—she saw movement.

At first the light filtering from above was too bright for her to make out what was causing it. But then her vision adjusted and she drew in a sharp breath. So close she could have reached up and touched it had the grating not been there, she saw a mass of shifting green flesh, interspersed with brief flashes of black taloned claws and glistening white teeth.

The area directly above their heads was teeming with Tao Tei!

Eyes widening, she looked at William. Casting a warning glance at the Imperial Officer at the head of the group with Wang at his side, he leaned forward and whispered, “Eyes forward! Keep moving! Tell them!”

But no sooner were the words out of his mouth than the Imperial Officer glanced up at the grating above his head—and froze in terror. He came to an abrupt halt, causing the rest of the procession to stop again too.

There was snuffling and grunting now from above, a new eagerness and awareness among the Tao Tei. Whether the creatures had seen their flickering torchlight, or heard their rumbling carts, or perhaps simply caught their scent Lin Mae had no idea, but all at once the light from above grew dimmer as the creatures moved across to press eyes and snouts against the grates. Next moment scrabbling talons appeared through the gaps between the bars and drool thick as candle wax began to drip down on them.

Wang gave the Imperial Officer a shove in the back and hissed sharply, “Press on! We’re almost there!”

The Imperial Officer looked at him, his face stark with terror, and then, with an effort, managed to recover himself. He gave a sharp nod and lurched forward, his movements jerky and panicked, the torchlight veering this way and that.

As they hurried through the long tunnel as fast as they could, the activity above them grew yet more frenzied. The shafts of daylight leaking in from overhead became fewer, and then were blotted out completely, as the Tao Tei crammed forward, turning the gaps between the bars into a slavering, hissing mass of squirming green flesh. More talons poked through, scrabbling at them, causing them to duck their heads. Lin Mae felt alarm lurch inside her as the grilles began to creak and bend under the intense pressure exerted by the weight of dozens of Tao Tei bodies. She felt an urge to run, but the carts were too heavy to push at anything more than walking pace.

Suddenly, in front of Lin Mae, there was a splintering crack and one of the grilles gave way. Instantly a Tao Tei arm burst through into the tunnel, long talons sinking into the shoulder of one of the Bear Corps warriors pushing the meat cart and plucking him up through the gap in the ceiling as easily as a child might pluck a crab from a rock pool. The soldier gave a short scream of agony and then he was gone, his shield, which was too big to fit through the gap, clattering to the floor, followed almost immediately by a pattering rain of blood.

Before anyone could react, a second grille burst open and a second Tao Tei arm reached in and plucked away another of the Bear Corps warriors. Then, in quick succession, several more massive green arms swiped down and grabbed the remainder of the soldiers, one of them snagging the shoulder of Peng Yong’s armour with its pincer-like talons and hauling him upwards.

Peng Yong screamed and struggled, his legs kicking wildly as he was dragged towards the drooling mass of Tao Tei. Lin Mae had been unable to act swiftly enough to prevent the sudden and shocking deaths of the rest of her soldiers, but now she tugged her grappling hook from her waistband and instinctively threw it.

The hook flew straight and true, the chain wrapping around the Tao Tei’s wrist like a metal shackle, the four prongs of the hook itself securing themselves around the bent and twisted bars of the damaged grille. This clamped the Tao Tei’s arm in place, at least temporarily, and prevented it from dragging Peng Yong up through the rent in the ceiling.

Lin Mae knew it would only be a matter of time, however, before the Tao Tei managed to yank itself free. Behind her she was peripherally aware of William running forward, dipping down. She turned just in time to see him snatch up the blood-spattered shield of one of the dead Bear Corps warriors, turn it sideways and hurl it like a discus.

The shield, spinning like a top, flew with such speed and ferocity, that it severed the Tao Tei’s arm cleanly at the wrist. As Peng Yong dropped to the floor, the taloned claw still hooked in the shoulder of his armour, the Tao Tei let out a bellowing scream of agony. With green, foul smelling blood gushing from it and splashing over Peng Yong, the creature’s arm retracted through the breach in the ceiling. Lin Mae knew, though, that the Tao Tei’s injury would not prevent others of its kind from trying to get at them.

“Stay low!” she shouted as she, William and Wang rushed forward to retrieve her grappling hook and check on Peng Yong.

The three of them crowded round the young Bear Corps warrior, who was slumped against the wall, his face contorted in agony. Carefully William lifted aside the mangled, blood-spattered flaps of armour and cloth at Peng Yong’s shoulder and examined the wound beneath.

“You’ll have one hell of a scar,” he said. “But you’ll live.”

Quickly Lin Mae translated William’s words. Peng Yong nodded weakly, his face ashen.

William could tell that the young man, though not mortally wounded, was in no state to jump to his feet and return to the fray just yet – and they had no time to wait for him to recover.

“We’ll come back for him,” he said to Lin Mae.

She hesitated a moment, then gave a decisive nod.

It was much harder going now that the rest of the soldiers were dead, but with William, Lin Mae and Wang putting their all into getting the two heavy carts down the tunnel, they creaked and rumbled slowly onward.

With a thundering clatter of clawed feet and a chorus of enraged, ear-splitting screams, the Tao Tei poured into the courtyard. Instantly the Eagle Corps warriors began to unleash their arrows, their hands a blur of motion as they loaded and fired. The Bear Corps warrior gave a roar of his own and waded fearlessly into the fray, swinging his axe and mallet. Even the Imperial Guards, unused to combat, fought bravely, slashing and hacking with their swords.

In spite of their courage, however, the battle was over in seconds, the soldiers managing to dispatch only a few Tao Tei before they were overwhelmed by sheer force of numbers. There was a brief, mad, dark swirling blur of green flesh and blood and screams, and then the Tao Tei were smashing the heavy wooden door from its hinges and flooding into the tunnel.

The fifty paces to the pagoda cellar entrance were the longest of William’s life. Together with Lin Mae and Wang, he hauled and heaved at the two carts, edging them inch by inch towards their destination.

Eventually they crossed the threshold of the long tunnel into what appeared to be a small junction chamber. Directly ahead of them, on the far side of the chamber, an arched opening framed a set of wide, stone steps leading upwards. To their left, set at an angle, was a wet, dripping, spillway tunnel, the ceiling of which, some distance ahead, was inset with more of the grates through which daylight poured like a line of misty white ghosts. From what William had seen of the layout of the Palace grounds from the air, he suspected that this tunnel stretched towards the North Gate steps.

“Here,” Wang gasped, stepping back from the cart. His dark robes were crumpled and smeared with grime, and his face shone with sweat.

He looked exhausted, in need of a rest, but William knew there was no time. He was about to reply when, from back down the tunnel, they heard the triumphant screeching roar of the Tao Tei.

All three of them looked at one another, then swung round. In the far distance, beyond Peng Yong’s slumped form, they saw flashes of green, rippling shadows, the suggestion of movement.

“They’ve broken through!” Lin Mae cried despairingly.

“Do it now,” William said to Wang. His words were punctuated by another echoing screech, this one a little closer.

“We need more time,” said Wang, his voice desperate.

“Look!” gasped Lin Mae.

William turned to see Peng Yong staggering to his feet. The young man clutched the black powder weapons he had been issued with to his body and touched the fuse of one to the ignition device attached to his wrist. As it fizzed into life, he turned to look back at him, his eyes steady in his waxy, sweating face. He said something in a quiet, calm voice, and although they were too far away to hear his words, the message was clear. Peng Yong was both resigned to his fate and determined to do his duty.

The boy had finally become a man.