“I only helped,” Mulan croaked weakly, but she found that the corners of her mouth were slightly curving. Ba was a mighty warrior. She would try to be like him. Her arms tightened again around the gourd.
Lu Ting-Pin flashed her a grin and then hopped back to the boat protruding from the immobile sea beast, even more grotesque in death. Its speckled, turgid flesh was beginning to swell like a blown-up pig’s bladder, and the stench of death wafted. Bracing his legs against the bloated body, Lu Ting-Pin grunted as he forced the boat out of the beast. The purple-blue blood now poured out from the gash, making large spreading pools of a nauseating syrup. Lu Ting-Pin leapt lightly through the air to the back of the boat, now pulled mostly out of the beast’s flesh. The bow of the boat was stained in blood and the mast was broken, the torn sail flapping madly from its single attached rope. Lu Ting-Pin tugged again at the boat, this time jerking it free as the unruly sail swung from side to side.
As the boat came unstuck, an eerie gulping noise echoed across the waves. The monstrous sea creature began to lower in the water, the blood-coated water gurgling violet bubbles as it sank. Mulan gaped, her wide eyes returning the stare of the swollen, bulbous, unseeing eyes of the beast as the water slowly covered and hid them from view. Then, with a sound that was oddly like a rude burp, the dead beast was completely submerged and gone.
“Come on up!” Lu Ting-Pin said, his voice again coming from above and behind her. As she leaned back, she saw that he was standing on the boat. She looked at him helplessly, almost delirious with exhaustion. The sun made a halo of light around him as if granting him divinity, and his arms reached down to her, seeming to extend like the Rabbit’s had when he had pulled her from the gorge. Dreamily, Mulan felt Lu Ting-Pin’s hands grasp under her arms and pull her up onto the boat.
“You can rest,” Lu Ting-Pin said to her. “We’re fine, for now.”
Half-heartedly, Mulan loosened the wrap holding the Rabbit and found him already asleep, his limp body rising and falling in unison with hers as they breathed. Her wet clothes were leaking small lakes of water that seemed to glue her to the ground, and with great effort, she raised her hand to feel the pouch at her hip. Yes, the Dragon Beard Grass was still there.
Then, with her final strength gone, Mulan’s arms splayed to the floor from the weight of her sleeves. The boat rocked like a cradle. Wearily, Mulan closed her eyes, welcoming the still peacefulness of sleep.
MULAN SNORTED awake, feeling as if she were being roused from a century of sleep. She forced her eyes open, painfully breaking the crust that had formed on them during her slumber. As she sat up, she rubbed her mouth with the back of her hand, slightly revolted to find she had been drooling.
Where was she? Oh, she was in the shelter of the boat. Lu Ting-Pin must have placed her and the Rabbit there; she vaguely remembered being carried.
Mulan looked at the Rabbit and she felt her heart pale, a sudden grief falling over her like rain from a clear sky. She knew he had not woken since their encounter with the sea beast, and she suspected that he would not until they had the medicine. For now he was just like Xiu, as still and as white as death. But not dead, Mulan thought, clenching her jaw defiantly. She and Lu Ting-Pin could still save them.
Quietly, she rummaged through the remaining supplies—everything rather soggy and slightly damaged—until she found the saddlebags that she had taken from Black Wind’s back. Carefully, she opened the one she was looking for. Yes, Xiu’s cloth rabbit was still there. Mulan reached for it and saw that, even though damp, it was uninjured. She hugged it close, seeing her gentle sister smiling at her as she closed her eyes.
She inched over to the Rabbit and pressed the toy close to him. Did she imagine it, or did his nose quiver? In the darkness, she couldn’t quite tell, but at least with Xiu’s toy next to him, he looked less lonesome.
“Mulan! Are you awake?” Lu Ting-Pin, probably hearing the movement, called to her. She ducked out of the shelter.
The light of day blinded her and she felt herself flinching from the brightness. As her eyes adjusted, she gasped.
Lu Ting-Pin had somehow managed to fix the mast, and it reached to the sky bandaged, the tattered sail tied to it with a series of questionable knots. But beyond the wounded boat, the sea was lapping in gentle waves and had taken an azure color. The water met the celadon sky with layers of soft, low-hanging clouds. And in that distant mist rose a majestic mountain island—green and gold, with numerous peaks that touched the heavens. The highest summit glinted with a sparkling light, as if it had a twinkling star as a beacon.
“Kunlun Mountain!” Lu Ting-Pin announced with a flourish, even though it was unnecessary. Mulan looked at him and saw that even though he was smiling and looking pleased with himself, his face was worn and the skin under his eyes looked as if it had been rubbed with soot. She realized it had been Lu Ting-Pin’s exertions that had brought them to Kunlun Mountain in time, and that it had been no small feat.
“We made it!” Mulan said, her smile growing into a grin. She laughed. “We made it!”
Lu Ting-Pin joined her laughter, both of them giddy with triumph and hope. Their laughter—Lu Ting-Pin’s deep bellows and Mulan’s clear peals—made a joyous music that echoed in the delicate blue of the sky.
GRR—AAAH—OOOHMP! The boat made a deafening warning groan that was neither joyous nor musical. Mulan and Lu Ting-Pin looked at each other and then scanned the horizon. No other boat; no horrid sea creature. The water and sky were clear, with only the slightly tattered red sail marring the picturesque view.
The boat groaned again. Frowning, Lu Ting-Pin went to the back of the boat to check the yuloh.
Mulan walked toward the bow, just as concerned. Something was not right. She looked out again over the sea, searching for some sort of foe hiding in the water. But no, the waves were like crystal, and while she could see the flashing orange and yellow of playful fish, nothing seemed ominous. There was only the soft slapping of water up against the sides of the boat.
But wait, was the water rising? There was more water covering the side of the boat than a moment ago…and were the fish getting larger? No, the fish were getting closer! The water wasn’t rising—the boat was sinking!
“MASTER LU!” Mulan called, “Look at the water…and the boat.…I think we’re sinking!”
“What?” he exclaimed and rushed over to where Mulan was standing. They both leaned over the edge, watching the water rise against the planks of the boat.
“Great Emperor of Jade!” Lu Ting-Pin said as if swearing. “What a fool I am! How did I forget?”
“Forget what?” Mulan asked, confused.
“The water surrounding Kunlun Mountain is different from the rest of the sea!” Lu Ting-Pin exclaimed. “It’s lighter!”
“Lighter?” Mulan said, still confused. “What do you mean?”
“It’s…it’s…” Lu Ting-Pin struggled to explain, his hands gesticulating in panic as well as frustration. “It’s not as thick.…Things cannot float on it!”
“Things cannot float on it?” Mulan repeated.
“Nothing can float on it!” Lu Ting-Pin said. “Not ships, not gourds, not people! This water sinks everything!”